All language subtitles for The Witchfinder.S01E06.Episode 6

I was this close to offering myself
up to the Witchfinder General

at a trial that starts in 12 hours.
Wiiiitch!

I'm getting executed in the morning
and I want to look my best.

I'm heading to... Ipswich.

Got talking to a merchant
who's heading that way.

Thomasine!

Go and get him.

Gideon!

Someone's given you a second chance.

What are you going to do,
Master Gideon?

We're going to save her, Myers.

We're going to save her life.

Oh, I feel good. Unencumbered.

There's a lightness to me.
This horse doesn't think so.

The trial starts in two hours
and it keeps slowing down.

Yes, it's cos you keep
squeezing your thighs.

It thinks you want to stop.

Squeezing means go! No,
it does not mean go. It means stop.

You're just wrong, Myers.

I'm serious. Relax your thighs.

Will you stop whingeing?!

When you relax your thighs!

They're like pincers
cutting into him.

Not you as well.

So you off to Ipswich market?

Yes. What's in the sacks?

Just produce.
Oh, what kind of produce?

How wonderful to have
such an inquisitive mind.

Oh, look, there's Ipswich.
That's Ipswich?

Oh, it's not what I imagined.

See those woods with trees
swishing in the breeze?

That's known as the Swish.

And over that hill is the River Ip.

This is simply where
the Ip meets the Swish,

so the Saxons called it Ipswich.

Oh. And the trees were here
in Saxon times?

It's funny how they look quite new.

Now, your father's address?

Oh, it's Coptandle Lane.

Oh, yes. You know it?

I know it well. It's not far.

Great. Well,
I'll just get off here then.

No, no. I said I'll take you
and I shall.

Nah, the walk will do me good.

Honestly, I'm fine. I said no.

It's fine!

I said no.

Looking for this?

What is this?

We're on the way to your father's.
On Coptandle Lane? Yes.

Which I just made up. Ah.

This isn't Ipswich, is it?

I have a witch! Help!

Someone alert
the Witchfinder General!

You! Washing boy! Go, quickly!

Give him the sword.

How did you get here?

Give...him...the sword.

I...don't...think...so.

Thomasine...

..give ME the sword.

En garde, sir.

You look ridiculous, Buzzy.

The name is Gideon Bannister.

Why does he call you Buzzy?
Is it cos your dad's a beekeeper?

Stay out of it, you. A beekeeper?
The man's obsessed with them.

You don't know about
his beard of bees?

Wearing a swarm on his face
to amuse children?

People don't do that. Father does.

At every social occasion.

Every summer.

When I went up to Cambridge with
the sons of physicians and clerics,

I was not Gideon Bannister,
son of Edward Bannister of Harwich.

I was Buzzy Bannister,
the bee beard boy.

You're lucky it wasn't butterflies.

Hm?

That was father's obsession.

Always in the lepidopterarium.

On hot days, he'd stand there,
arms out like Christ,

waiting for his precious butterflies
to land on him.

I never lived it down at school.

They called me Flapper.

I didn't know.

Well...why would you,

when I just made it up
to distract you?

Rule number one of fencing -
never drop your guard.

Good rule.

Sorry about that.
He was just winding me up.

I just thought I'd clip him...
Yeah, with a spade.

Shall we...?

Yeah. Yeah.

That's her!

All right, pal?

Get off me! Get off!

Come on! I'll speak to Matthew
Hopkins. I'll get you out of this.

Gideon! Gideon!

Wet stockings.

Are you taking me to see him?

I said, are you taking me
to see him?

Hello? Hello.

So you can hear me? Yes.

Are you taking me to see him?

I am asking -
staggering, by the way -

if you are taking me
to see Matthew Hopkins.

You do know who he is?

Everyone knows
the Witchfinder General.

I have to say, you timed it well.
Trial starts in one hour

and a few of our witches
died in jail overnight.

Important to get the numbers.

I just wanted to have a very quick
word about my one. About your witch?

Well, this was the issue I had
hoped to... Thomasine Gooch.

Used sorcery to kill a pig.

Sworn depositions here, too.
Looks good. No, they all help.

I had expected at least half a dozen
to be brought by John Stern,

but there's no sign...

How did you get this pouch?

It belongs to John Stern.

John Stern's dead, sir.

Eee-eee-eee-eeeh!

Oh...

Oh, John.

Dear, dear John.

A fine man. A truly good friend.

I shall miss you very much.

Still, we move on.

Do you want to know how he died?

No, I don't think so.

Unless, of course,
she killed John Stern.

Oh! No.

Oh, this is fantastic.

No, that was a theory, but...
Oh, the court will adore this.

And, of course,
I shall need a new associate.

I wonder if this is
why you came here.

Well, it was originally...
After all, you bring me a witch

by way of a calling card, like a dog
with a dead bird in its mouth,

but not just any dead bird -
the bird, with sorcery,

killed my cherished right-hand man,
my dear, dear friend...

John. ..John!

Because that kind of prize
deserves rewarding.

Come.

Naturally, you will need
some finer clothes.

A better cloak, wider hat.

Important to create the right image.

What are you? A 38 chest?

Susan!

Your residence shall be
this one across the way.

I like to keep a few homes dotted
around the East of England,

depending where work takes us...

You, there!

Morning, Matthew.

Yes, it's Mr Hopkins now,

and you're moving out,
so you have the time it takes me

to load this pistol
to leave the premises.

Thank you!

That's Mrs Stern, John's mother.

Don't worry, they won't be long.

It's a lovely place.

Similar to mine here.

Oh, Mary!

I don't know if you've had
much of a look around.

I've loaded it!

The previous owner did
a tremendous job of it...

Ah!

..but he didn't want to give it up,
truth be told.

Good.

..witches?

Sorry? They were witches?
Oh, yes, yes

I was paid a small fortune to
prosecute their case

and I ended up with this house
into the bargain.

Ah, Susan, fetch my angora cloak
and my other hat.

There's a good girl.

Susan is very good.

We thought at one time
she was a witch.

I undertook an investigation
and it turned out...she wasn't one,

so now she is my assistant.

Yeah, a similar situation
to the woman I brought.

She seemed a witch initially,
but then she might not be.

I notice you have said that
for a third time,

even though I pointedly
ignored the first two.

Why is that, I wonder?

Just that we have spent
some days together.

Her hooks are in you.

Womankind is persuasive and wily.

Witness how Eve convinced Adam
to eat that fateful apple.

Some scholars believe Adam
didn't even like apples.

God had only intended
for her to be the first woman,

but due to some sort of mix-up,

also appears to have
created the first slag.

I just think in this case,
there may be one or two grey areas.

Hmm. Our problem is your grey areas.

They reflect on me, especially
if I'd given you the cloak

and the hat and the house
and all that money,

renowned across half of England.

So is there a grey area...

..or is she a witch?

A Will Gooch for you, sir.

Gooch?

Gooch, as in...? Thomasine's dad.

How did you find out about this?

There's a Mr Hebble been putting the
word about that she's been accused

and so I came down the trials
and somebody says they got her,

so I thought,
"Well, I have to speak up."

You wish to speak
as a character witness?

My word's going to count
for a lot, isn't it?

I mean, you only get one father.
Yeah.

Unless you're Jesus, because, you
know, he was raised by Joseph as is,

but, actually, God is his dad.

I mean, I suppose Jesus
must have thought that, like,

God was...like, a friend of his
mum's that just stared at him a lot

and got-got sad at birthdays...

You know, I'm no expert on much, but
you ask me anything about Thomasine,

absolutely any...
Not shoe size, though,

cos I'm not good on shoe sizes,
but anything else...

Can I just stop you there?

Shall I see him out? If you would.

Come on, pal. All right.

I have you, she has her father.

A weight off the old mind,
I imagine.

But to the case.

You mentioned a grey area.

It's more of a...

..grey speckle, if I'm honest.

I am 95% sure she's a witch.

98%.

I like to round up.

100%.

Well, God knows we needed a witch
of the calibre he brought.

Another two died
in the jail overnight.

You arrange a big trial
and these wretches can't even muster

the good grace to stay alive
for the damn thing.

Oh, I must introduce you
to Lord Salisbury.

He will be the judge today.

You wouldn't want to
take him on at backgammon,

but he'll always do the right thing
in a witch trial.

God, I love a trial.

The thick must of an English court,
the stench of theatre.

I presume you've noticed my clack?

Pardon me, your...? Clack.

I've had a copper panel
added to each heel

so that it sounds that bit louder.

It means as I approach,
I can be heard from some way away.

Clack, clack, clack.
"Could that be him?"

Clack, clack, clack.
"It's getting closer!"

Clack, clack, clack -
and suddenly there I am,

swishing my cloak
as I sweep into the room.

It just adds that bit of drama.

I do something similar
with an egg. Right? Um...

You'd have to see it live.

Well, I look forward to that.

You, boy!
Have a fresh egg laid at once.

Oh, a fresh one.

Myers.

Mmm. Hm.

How's the cotignac?

Slightly bitter, but that's not
for the reasons you think.

I think they just
skimp on the sugar round here.

Look, an innocent lady has nothing
to worry about at trial.

Even if it's one-sided?

Or feels a bit David and Goliath?

And David won, remember?

He had a slingshot.

She has nothing.

No, not true, Myers.

The Good Lord has sent a guardian
angel as a character witness

who will speak on her behalf.

She's got her father,
which means she walks free

and I keep this job.

Right, let us convict some witches!

I've heard that grey ones
can run about 11mph,

so that's about one mile
every seven minutes.

You know, a lot of people
forget about that.

Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.

Guard just told me how quickly
geese run. Don't know why.

Not as fast as I'm going
to run when I get out...

New cloak?

This? No! God, no. No, no.

This has been the family aeons.

Funnily enough, my great-uncle
used to wear it hare coursing,

but since he coursed
his last hare, I became the...

Mr Hopkins gave it to me.

But you did get him to let me go?

Yeah, bit of a topsy-turvy
few minutes, actually.

Good chat with Matthew.
Had a very good chat with Matthew.

He pointed out that, although
you are currently innocent,

and there will continue to be
a presumption of that innocence,

the best way to prove that innocence
would be...

For the court to decide.

..for the court to decide. Exactly.

She's got it.

All right?

Is she going to hit me?
You going to hit me?

She just stares.

They're not mistreating you
or anything, are they?

Nah, I think they save that
for the hanging.

Come, now.

You're talking as if it's
a foregone conclusion. Isn't it?

The day's not done.

Bugger me!

OK. She'll see you now.

She? Thomasine.

Your daughter.

Why would I want to see my daughter?

You've come here to testify for her.

No, against her.

They said there's a reward.

20 shillings for any testimony
leading to the conviction

of a witch or sorceress.

You horrible prick of a cock
of a dick of a knob of a man!

You're her father!

You're getting settled in Ipswich,

then you're going to come
and get her.

Ipswich? Well, I don't what
her mother chose to tell her, but...

You wrote her letters.

Letters?

Where did you just go?

What are you doing?!
Get off of them!

Are these your father's letters
that your mother read to you?

Well, I can't read them.

"Sold some meat today."

He writes beautifully.

Mum never did get
to the end of that one.

Would you read it to me?

Nah, it's private. Please.

"Can't wait for you to come here
and stay with me.

"I think they'd like you.

"And even if they don't, I like you.

"You're a good person, Thomasine.

"People might try to change you,

"but that's because there's
something wrong with them,

"not because
there's anything wrong with you.

"Remember that.

"There's something
infectious about you.

"Not like dysentery.

"Although it's important
to be hygienic, Thomasine.

"I mean more like an honesty
that makes other people

"want to be honest as well.

"And I've had
a new delivery of sausages..." Ha!

"..which are selling well.

"Yours, William Gooch.

Funny that.

You know, he came from nothing.

And then there's people like you
who live in your big houses,

cotignac, and you could
never say anything as decent

as that in a million months.

Mr Bannister,
hate to have to drag you away

from the killer of my dear, dear...

John. ..John, John Stern,

but I have found you
some shoes that clack.

I didn't kill John Stern!

Hm, I wonder who I should believe.

Let me have a little think.

Oh, yes - the man!

So this was your plan all along?

To pin the man's death on me.

And to think that I thought,
deep down, you were a good person!

Yeah, well, I'm not, am I?

I'm a bad person!

And, no, I don't care!

I do bad things to people.

I'm not nice like you!

I like dark clothes!

I like men who pound
their fists on the table

and make the cups
jump up a little bit!

Well, good luck sleeping tonight.

I don't need it.

I'm going to go out and celebrate,

and I'm going to sleep with a woman
for money!

And I'm going to underpay her too,
with small denomination coins

that she has to pick off
the table herself!

Thanks, mate.

Well, if the father won't,
then that only leaves you.

Done my bit
and it fell on deaf ears.

I have made vigorous representations
to Mr Hopkins on her behalf,

but to no avail.

I have pleaded with her father
to testify and he would not.

Myers, you must understand,
we cannot always get what we want

in this bloody life of ours.

You have been praying to God
to remove your cataracts

for the last decade.

No, all I've been praying for
is a sign that I'm godly.

Yes, and he's ignored you.

Well, maybe he's not ignored me.

Maybe he's saying
he doesn't like this.

You've changed your tune.
So have you.

I thought we agreed,
this is not what God wants.

Since when have you worried
about what's right?

All you're after is a little pat
on the head. Good doggie.

You are gagging for a choir
of angels to visit you.

Well, Edith said she heard...

Edith is full of shit!

You think God is wasting
a choir of angels on Edith?

Or you for that matter?

Wake up!

Ugh!

Aaargh!

Mr Bannister, the introduction?

Ladies and gentlemen, pray silence
for the Witchfinder General,

Mr Matthew Hopkins.

Got a fucking move on.

Heard that.

And this must be Thomasine Gooch.

How does she plead?

Not guilty. Hm.

Clever girl.

Prosecution ready to proceed,
Mr Hopkins?

Oh, it's not me who will be
prosecuting, your honour.

Yes, I was rather hoping to take
the next case, Mary Higgins.

She bewitches ducks and geese.

I mean, basically, all the waterfowl
in Suffolk, she controls.

Yes, you'll be doing her as well.

Fantastic. That's great.

So hold the Bible in one hand
and raise the other one.

The other Bible?

Nope, the other hand.
Do you see another Bible?

Raise the Bible?

Hold the Bible, raise your hand.

The one without the Bible.

Then say, "I swear by Almighty..."
I swear by...

Wait till I've finished saying it
before you start saying it.

"I swear by Almighty God
to say the truth, the whole truth

"and nothing but the truth,
so help me, God."

Yeah, but you don't really need
the first one.

You just need to say, "The whole
truth and nothing but the truth."

But it is, "The truth, the whole
truth and nothing but the truth,

"so help me, God."
But if you tell the whole truth,

then it stands to reason
that you're telling the truth.

I mean, you can't tell
the whole truth and then go,

"Oh, yeah, I'd best tell the truth
as well," because you've already

told the truth
when you've told the whole truth.

Can we...? Yeah, I'm just saying...

What was it I was saying?

Hold the Bible in one hand,
raise the other one, then say,

"I swear by Almighty God to tell
the truth, the whole truth

"and nothing but the truth,
so help me, God."

Then I'm under oath. Yes, you are.

But doesn't that
make YOU under oath?

Fine.

I'm under oath before Almighty God.

I think you'll find there's
very little to unearth here.

Do I pretend not to hear

if an old lady asks me to help
with a particularly heavy bag?

Yeah, quite often. Do do that.

Do I laugh
when I see a very tall lady

walking along with a very short man?

Yeah, I'll allow myself a snigger.

Do I think that Mr Hopkins's shoes
are too loud?

A little, maybe, but I'm a big boy.

Do you think I'm a witch?

Come, now. How is what he thinks
of any relevance?

He knows me better than anyone here
and he's under oath.

Do you think I'm a witch?

I think we've rather gone
beyond that, don't you?

Do you think I'm a witch?
Ask me a harder one.

Because I don't think
you do think I'm a witch.

You keep saying
how disgusted you are by witches,

but I don't think you're disgusted
by me. I wouldn't bet on it, love.

That night in the woods, I woke up
and found your head on my chest.

I was trying to leech a modicum
of warmth for the day ahead.

And when I said that you had
no honour, you were upset.

Thomasine, listen...

Thomasine! You started
calling me Thomasine.

It was always Gooch and now
you've started calling me Thomasine.

It was a shorthand!
Thomasine's longer!

Well, that depends on how much

you elongate the "oo" in Gooch,
doesn't it?

Thomasine Gooooch.
I think you enjoyed the journey

and I think there's a part of you
that wishes we hadn't got here

and it had carried on a bit.

I think you're carrying on a bit
at the moment.

Did you enjoy the journey?

Yes. Do you think I'm a witch?

If you can stand here now and
tell me that you think I'm a witch,

I will change my plea to guilty.

So do you?

Do you think I'm a witch?

No more questions, your grace.

Your honour, I move
that we strike that from record.

What? The key charge here
concerns the inexplicable deaths

of a man called John Stern
and a pig called...

..Richard.

You see, to me, it's very simple.

This is 1645.

We are at the cutting edge
of human enlightenment.

If a thing appears odd
and lacks a ready explanation,

most likely it is witchery.

Are we to believe this pig
and John Stern died

of old age and misfortune?

Right, strike it all
from the record.

What?!

No, no, I know
what you're going to say...

Don't you ever
criticise my shoes in public again.

Now, I want you to return to my
study and collect the black cloth.

It's customary
to wear it on your head

when passing a sentence of death.

Doesn't the judge usually do that?

Yes.

But I want you to do it!

Case of Thomasine Gooch -
accused of witchery.

Those who succumb
to the lure of witchcraft

and use their sorcery to harm others
commit a crime punishable by death.

To that end,
I have now reached a judgment.

Your honour? Exhibit B.

Easy, easy.

Calm yourselves.

My name is Gideon Bannister.

Some of you may know the name.
Now, Mr... Oh, now they nod!

Well, Mr Hopkins says
that which appears odd

or can't be explained
must be witchcraft.

Really, is this not enough for you?

Can anyone explain this?

No! But - is it the work of Satan?

Of course it's the work of Satan!

Wrong.

This is perfectly natural.

What you see isn't witchery,

it's just a swarm of bees.

Admittedly, about five times
more than I expected,

bearding around the queen.

Bearding? You see,
odd occurrences can be explained.

In this case, the queen
is giving off a womanly odour

to attract male bees,

just as the smell of a bitch's
vagina attracts local dogs...

One's gone in.

Ow. Ow!

Satan!

Satan, Satan....

Oh, God...

Go.

Yeah. Oh, ah!

You're a witch.
No. I know you're a witch!

No. I can tell. No!

Yeah, you are. You're a witch!

You made a pact with the devil.

Confess!

I hear them.

I can hear them.

Thank you, Lord!

I can hear them!

Good idea, this -
leave the back way.

How about some wine
brought to my quarters?

And that witch with the freckles.

Tell the judge
to pick one for himself, too.

A good day's work calls for...

Are you going to hit me?

Is she going to hit me?

I wouldn't worry.

My cousin once fell in nettles
and her hands swelled up so much

you couldn't see her knuckles.

There were more like big bags
with fingers sticking out.

It was like having udders
at the end of her arms.

Well, I wasn't worried.
You said the swelling had gone down.

It has - nearly.
Honestly, you can hardly tell. Mm.

The important thing is
to avoid detection.

The whole of East England
will be looking for you.

We could say I'm a travelling
merchant and you're my bag carrier.

I'm not your bag carrier.
I'll say you're my bag carrier...

I'll say you're MY bag carrier.
Why would I be your bag carrier?

Why would I be YOUR bag carrier?

Then let's just walk quietly
and take it all in.

The important thing is
we get out of Anglia undetected.

What about Ipswich?
I was going to see my dad.

Well, we can write to him.

He stopped writing after Mum died.

I reckon he'll start again.

How long do they hang around for?

Hm?

Oh, the stragglers?

Anything up to an hour. Oh.

I can flick them off
if they're bothering you.

No, I think they suit you. Hm.

Weird thing to say.

Vagabond
by Beirut

# Now as the air grows cold

# The trees unfold

# And I am lost

# And not found now

# Now left the vagabonds

# A trail of stones

# Forward to find my way home

# Now as the air grows cold... #