All language subtitles for My.Lady.Jane.S01E03.With.A.Girl.Like.You.AMZN.WEBRip

I do.

Because I'm your Lord husband.

- Who you are to love, honor, and obey.
- Ha!

- Tell me about you.
- My fiancée has the plague.

Oh, bad luck.

My husband's dead.

- Where is Lord Guildford?
- He keeps a bed down by the stables.

Jane,
I really need to be alone.

You're a horse?

Guildford can't control

- his Ethian powers.
- Why?

It's a sort of horse-by-day,
man-by-night thing.

It's a poisoner's box.

- To whom did you sell this?
- Guy with a creepy ring.

- Jane, what do you know about poison?
- The Florentine Widowmaker?

- How bad is it?
- Catastrophic.

I have reason to believe that
my would-be assassin is somebody at Court.

- How's my baby brother?
- He knows.

- The King knows.
- I'm taking charge.

Jane, you don't know
what it's like out there. It's dangerous.

Ethians, the Pack. You won't be safe.

- I'm so sorry.
- So am I.

Susannah, go!

- We must safeguard the Will.
- Right now?

Whoever gets the crown controls the world.

King Edward's Will. It's missing.

- This marriage was never my desire.
- So a divorce.

Fine. You find me my cure,
and this marriage is over.

I have ascertained
the identity of your poisoner.

Arrest Lord Dudley!
The eye ring...

We must move you
to the North Turret.

Must have fallen
trying to escape.

Edward is dead!

The ideal honeymoon
has oodles of wine, food,

and vigorous rompy-pompy.

But for Jane Grey, newlywed life
offers nothing but solitude, reading,

and research about a horse curse
that plagues her husband.

It's... rather lonely.

Oh.

I imagined you in bed.

I-I mean, I thought you'd be asleep.

Well, I don't sleep much.

I'm preparing our next attempt.

Can you tell me
about the first time you changed?

Perhaps if I understood more.
You refuse to talk about it.

We don't have time for that.
It's almost dawn.

Get your things.

Guildford,

what if we've been
going about this all wrong?

- We've tried nine cures... all failures.
- I'm aware.

I read all your Ethian cure books.
Most of them are poppycock.

The point is, what if rather than
trying to cure your condition...

...we find a way to control it?

I'd still be Ethian.

- Yes, but if you could hide it...
- Jane, try to understand.

I want to be free of this curse. Forever.

- Gods...
- Even if it kills me.

- Have you always been this melodramatic?
- Have you always been this argumentative?

Yes, actually.

Take off your shirt.

Exi ergo, transgressor animalus.

For those of you
who didn't go to that kind of school,

Jane's Latin is an incantation
that promises to drive the Ethian devil

from Guildford's soul.

At this moment,

her natural intellectual skepticism
has been replaced with,

of all things...

hope.

Exi ergo, transgressor animalus.

- Exi ergo, transgressor animalus.
- Please.

- Please, please... no!
- Exi ergo, transgressor animalus.

No, no, no, no.

No!

Oh.

You thought Jane could perform magic?

Well, I'm sorry.

This isn't that kind of story.

Few things vex Jane as acutely as failure.

As she makes her way back
to the faraway ancestral home

of her equine husband,

Jane finds herself stumped.

And if Jane, the smartest girl
in the Kingdom, is stumped,

one might conclude...

Wait a moment, what's that?

A ransom note!

Susannah.

Oh, how many times?

Will you stop your urination?

This is a ventilation aperture,
not a pissoir!

Oi, shut it!

You there, open up!

What do you want?

Listen to me. I did not poison the King.

But I do believe his life
is in the gravest of danger.

I must speak to His Majesty.

There's been a terrible misunderstanding.

All you prisoners say that. No.

It's true!

You should boil alive for your crimes.

Boiling? Are we still doing that?

You're doing that.

On Friday, actually.

In a great big iron pot in Smithfield.

Ye gods, in this day and age.

You'd think we'd be
a bit more sophisticated.

Do you remember Richard Roose?

I said to King Henry, I said,
"Boiling your own cook,

that's a bit on the schnoz,
isn't it?"

- Look, Jim...
- George.

George, I am innocent!

I've been framed!
The King must know the truth.

So we can straighten out
this whole kerfuffle.

Rumor is, he's already dead.

What? No, th-the Wi... the Will!

No. Please! Get my son. Stan.

Lanky fellow, hair spun like gold.

Get my son!

Oh, Bertie, thank the gods.

Sweet Lady Jane.

Care for a nice, fresh peach?

Fragrant bath?
Cat in the barn's just had kittens.

- I need 50 pounds.
- Fifty pounds of what?

Gold. Silver plate.
Please, I need to help my friend.

You'll have to ask the master
when he returns from town.

He is my husband. What's his is mine.

No, what's his is his. Including you.

Did you treat
the former Lady Dudley this way?

Guildford's mother.

Now, there was a Lady. Brilliant.

But more usefully, beautiful.

And a wonderful bosom.
Firm, pert, succulent.

You know what they say.
More than a handful's a waste.

And when she died,

poor Guildford was nearly...

Nearly what?

Dear me, what was I saying?

Ah, yes.

Without the master's permission,
I cannot give you anything.

Except a peach. Or a kitten.

I need to see
my brother immediately.

Your Highness,
the King's health has taken a turn.

He must not be disturbed.

On whose orders?

Oh!

The King is dead!

Say it again.

The King is dead!

When you're celebrating

a successful regicide
and your own impending coronation,

the last thing you want...

is a drop-in.

Not today, thank you.

Lord Seymour,
I haven't seen King Edward for days.

- Have you seen him?
- No.

God, she's irritating, isn't she?

Bess suspects.

No, no, no, that's just her face. Come on.

I tire of waiting, Seymour.
I wish to announce Edward's death.

Not yet!

We spoke about this, Squidgy.

It's a process.

First, we have to get
the Privy Council involved.

- We have to retrieve Edward's body...
- Oh, fuck that noise.

He's probably floated
halfway down to Kent by now.

Since everyone believes he was poisoned
by Lord Dudley, why do we need a body?

Let's just announce it,
read Edward's Will, get on with our...

Not yet!

Why not?

You have the Will.

It names me.

Of course I have the Will.

Of course it names you.

Seymour is lying.

Just... give me this evening
to tie up a few loose ends.

Fine.

Seymour does not have
Edward's Will.

The document has in fact
fucked off to parts unknown.

Gods save the Queen!

It's not in the Chancery, Sire.

We checked every nook and cranny.

New assignment, Phillips.

Find Lady Jane Grey
and her drunken spouse.

Kill them.

Shall I chuck her
down the stairs, Lord Seymour?

- Oh, classic.
- I don't care!

Yes, get creative.

Go in disguise
and make it look like an accident.

Yes, Sire. Just one question.

May I take the new boy with me?

Pop the old murder cherry.

Make a man of me, m'Lord.

Whatever. Just kill them.

Tonight.

- Dad!
- Stanley!

Have you got the Will?

- Don't be mad.
- Oh, bugger.

I went to the Chancery,
just like you asked.

But the King's Will for the Succession
has been stolen.

- Stolen?
- Stolen.

The door was smashed to smithereens.

All right. Plan B.

I need an alibi.

Here's a pitch. We were on a chummy jaunt.

To the coast. Devon.

Just you and me.

Father and son. Best mates.

I need an alibi people will believe.

Well, I suppose you'd like me
to fetch Guildford.

You leave Guildford out of this.

He's safer where he is.
No, no, no, no, no.

We need someone with royal blood,
someone with skills, with smarts,

with the scheming prowess
to get me out of here.

I need...

Frances.

Frances.

- Dad's going to be boiled alive.
- Yes, and?

Well, and... Oh, hi, girls.

We must save him.
He's innocent, you know that.

- Hmm.
- Gosh, you all look awfully smart.

Wait.

What are you girls doing?

There's my precious lambkin.

Come hither,
my little turtledove, come hither.

Darling Katherine,
I knew this day would come.

Ever since I held you
in my arms in your babyhood.

Oh, it's a wedding! I love weddings.

Rupert.

Guildford, finally...

The master
has returned from town.

Evening, Bertie. Marvelous spread,
you've outdone yourself.

Mm.

Guildford. Guildford!

Thank you, Bertie.
You may retire for the night if you wish.

Look at this.

A ransom note?

The Pack wants 50 quid
for someone called Susannah...

My maid. My friend.

She's Ethian. The Pack must have seen us
speaking in the tavern and turned on her.

And now she's their hostage.

It's all my fault.

This is extortion. We can't pay this.

They said that they'll slit her throat
if we don't.

No, Jane, I mean
we literally can't pay it.

My father's in debt up to his balls.

Eyeballs.

So you lied?

You're supposed to be rich,
that was the whole point.

I didn't arrange this marriage!

Fine. Then I'll take your family silver.

Are you serious? Jane. Jane. Stop.

The beasts won't harm each other,
but they will not hesitate to kill you.

You do not know that.

- I know Ethians.
- Guildford,

either you help me
or you shut up and get out of my way.

And what if I forbid it?

Oh, go on, then. Forbid it.

And tell your po-faced servant
to lock up your wife. I dare you.

- Go have a nice big drink!
- Yes, I will, thank you.

- Have fun getting yourself killed.
- I will, thank you.

My sister and I
have been praying all night

for the health of our beloved brother.

Sadly, our prayers have failed.

King Edward will not last the night.

He has been overtaken by delirium.

But... before he succumbed...

he commanded me, as his heir,

to expand the Division Laws

and once and for all
eliminate the Ethian menace.

Nay. Nay.

Nay.

He is not yet dead.

Give it a few hours.

And you are not yet Queen.

You cannot change laws,
let alone sit on the ruddy Throne,

until Edward is confirmed deceased

and... his Will names you.

Lord Wessex, what remarkable devotion
to our dear brother.

Your grandpapa fought valiantly
at the battle of Towton, did he not?

And?

Well, it's never too late
to reward a good turn.

How's Skipton Castle sound?

I've always wanted that castle.

Good.

Off you go.

In fact, you're all dismissed.

Not you, Bess. Stay.

S-Sister, may I...

- I-I mean, I wish to visit Edward before...
- You cannot.

I must confess something dreadful.

But you must guard this secret
with your whole heart.

Edward is already dead.

What? When?

Last night.

In the throes of his delirium, he...

...defenestrated.

Oh.

Right out the window.

It's devastating.

But then again, Edward was at death's door
for his entire life, really,

so it's not that much of a shocker, is it?

That makes you...

...Queen.

Yes, I shall be.

The first Queen in 500 years.

Think of it!

Oh, my sweet stalwart Bess,
what would I do without you?

If only Daddy could see us now.

Fun fact.

Traversing the woods at night

is and always has been

a very bad idea.

Oh, fucking tits, fuck!

You?

Did you really intend to brain me
with that rock?

Of course, I thought you were a vagabond
or a brigand or something.

I'm far too handsome to be a vagabond.

Or a brigand.

- Next time, pick a bigger rock.
- You can't force me to go back.

Well, it's clearly quite impossible
to force you to do anything.

But seeing as a dead wife
might be challenging

to explain to the authorities
without drawing unwanted attention,

I... Jane! Please, Jane, come on.

I am here
because you asked me to help you.

So let me.

I know a shortcut.

We'll reach the Ethian camp
and surprise them.

Fine.

You'll need a dagger.

Luckily, I have a spare.

That's not a dagger.

This is a dagger.

Hmm.

You know the old adage
about forcing your daughter to marry

against her will in order to assure
your own financial security?

It's easier the second time.

And of course,
as the illustrious Knox said,

to promote a woman to bear rule
above any realm is

repugnant to nature!

But in any event,

I'm confident that the rumors
of Edward's imminent demise

are greatly exaggerated

and we need not fear the idiocy
of a female monarch!

Smile.

A toast to my wife!

- To Katherine.
- To Katherine.

- Ah.
- My Lord, please may I be excused?

Of course you may, my little treasure.

And I'll be with you very, very soon.

Okay, thank you.

Katherine, you can't let Mother do this.

It's already done.

Meanwhile, in a place
that Ethians only whisper about...

It's me. Hurrah!

Lord Seymour. The Will is nearly done.

You will need the Royal Seal
to prove authenticity.

No one will dare refute me.

And by morning,

the only possible usurper
to the Throne will be dead.

Oh!

Look at that.

Princess Mary will be pleased as punch.

Congratulations.

You have won your freedom.

- Truly?
- Yes.

Thank you, Sire.

No, no. Not like that.

People might think I have some sort of
untoward Ethian prison down here.

Go on, change.

Aw... such a little fellow.

You're undercover as a peasant,
Hodgkins, not a slob.

Yes, Phillips.

Wake your master.

I do beg your pardon?

Where are my manners?

We have a message for your Lord and Lady.

If I were you, I'd rouse them sharpish.

I can take that message.

The Lord and Lady are unwell.

Bad eels. My fault.

My mother always said,
when it comes to eels,

- only eat them in the month...
- Shut up.

Well. Good night.

Aah!

It might interest you to know

that I have a particular set of skills.

Mostly pertaining to killing people.

So tell me where they are,

or I'll use this as a teachable moment
for my young friend here.

They went for a moonlit stroll.

You know what newlyweds are like.

Exactly where did they go?

- What?
- What?

- You were staring at me.
- No, I wasn't.

Fine.

It's just, that's not
how you hold a dagger.

- Oh.
- And I'm only saying that

so you can defend yourself

when we're inevitably attacked
by a bunch of bloodthirsty Ethians.

Right. What am I doing wrong
in your expert opinion?

It's your, it's your wrist,
it's too delicate.

Look, let me show you.

Did you know
that the old King was obsessed

with Edward learning the art of combat?

Oh.

Archery,

- swordplay, hand-to-hand, et cetera.
- Et cetera.

And we were educated together
until the age of ten, so,

as someone who bested Capo Ferro
at the age of eight,

I can confidently say you're holding
that dagger like a falchion sword.

And I could take it from you
in 15 seconds flat.

I doubt that.

You shouldn't.

Shall we put it to a wager?

You have nothing to wager, remember?

- You're skint.
- There must be something you want.

Name your terms.

I want to ask you a question.

And you must answer honestly.

Agreed.

And I'll expect the same from you.

Agreed.

Come on, then.

I win.

No, you don't.

I take it all back.

You're the greatest swordsman
who ever lived.

Now, come on, ask me your question.

Tell me about the first time you changed.

Why won't you talk about it?

You promised you'd answer my question.

I lied.

Come on.

The funny thing
about heavily spiced, rancid Tudor wine

is that it tastes an awful lot...

A succulent little beauty,
wouldn't you say?

...like guilt.

Nice wedding, Mother.

She's yoked
to that crapulous pignut for life.

And she's gotta shag him.

Disgusting.

Leicester will be asleep
in his cups by midnight.

I-I-I told the servants
to lubricate him well.

Well, what about tomorrow night?

- And the night after?
- That's enough.

We need his money.

Now go to your room. Go on. Scram.

Scram!

Hi.

What?

So, about Dad. Do you think...

If he wants me to help craft
some feeble defense,

then he is pissing up the wrong tree.

Mm.

Will nothing change your mind?

I know a salty little badger
who likes a tickle.

Ow!

You can go outside and relieve yourself
against some plant,

you concupiscent peasant.

My father shall be boiled alive
for a crime he did not commit,

and you, to whom I have exposed
my bloody beating heart

and my wanton turgid member,
could not care less?

- What kind of woman are you?
- I am not your mother or your wife.

I am your superior
in rank and circumstance,

and I am weary
of your ceaseless presence in my life.

Thank you for your confidences
and your, uh, youthful vigor.

Neither service is further required.

Are you absolutely sure?

Go up to my bedroom and wait for me there.

And don't touch anything.

- Almost midnight. Gods, we're lost!
- We're not lost!

It's ten minutes that way. Trust me.

I spent years in these woods.

My father sent me here
when I first changed.

We will find your beastly maid.

"Beastly maid"?

She's my best friend.

Yet she never told you
the truth about herself. Hmm.

Oh, imagine that.

I'm sorry, is there something
you wish to say to me?

Yes, you're a deceitful, penniless arse.

You tricked me into this marriage.

- In order to save my own life.
- At the expense of mine.

The punishment for intermarriage is death,
which I'm certain you must know.

- I'm risking my life for yours right now.
- Not for mine, for Susannah's.

The most important person in the world.

Yes, actually, which I'm sure
you would never understand.

Try me.

My father died at sea
and suddenly we had nothing.

My mother locked herself away
and Margaret stopped talking.

Katherine just wouldn't stop crying.

I was all alone.

Until one day,
the new maid asked me how I was.

Nobody had even thought to ask.
Nobody cared.

Susannah always cared.

She always made me laugh.

Well, that is rare indeed.

Tread softly, we're very close.

Mm, how confident you are.

The Pack.

- Well.
- Hello, trouble.

Are you sure she's...?

Susannah.

Wait, that's her? That's your hostage?

- Yeah, she's gonna be there. Trust me.
- Are you sure?

Mm-hmm. I promise...

Jane, let's just go home.

Wait here.

- We'll be back.
- Go on, don't leave her waiting.

She set you up.

Jane. Jane! Stop. Jane.

Susannah! How could you do this to me?

Don't move. Or he'll gut you.

- Jane...
- He really will. He hates Ethians.

I thought you were in danger.

I am such a fool.
I was coming here to rescue you.

- I am in danger.
- No, you just want money.

Money you don't need. But we do.

- Oh, spare me.
- It's the truth.

Ethians cannot survive
another winter in the wild.

Not with the new Kingsland Guards.

They torture us,
burn our camps, lock us up...

Everyone knows that
the Pack are a bunch of violent criminals.

This is your husband?

Fine, I'll wait outside.

We are not criminals, Jane.

I mean, yes, we steal to survive.

But we try not to hurt anyone.

So you are with the Pack?

How long?

Since you left my mother's house
or far longer?

Does it matter?

I thought you were my friend.

I scrubbed your floors.

Was I really your friend?
Or was I just there?

In all the years I worked for you,

did you ever really ask about my family
or where I come from?

Okay.

Tell me now.

Please.

I changed young.

My parents beat me half to death.

The Pack saved me.

They helped me find work
in a noble Verity home.

I was safe.

Until you asked me to run away.

Take this.

I know it doesn't fix anything.

Thank you.

Jane!

Yes, again!

Quick, hurry.

The only good Ethians are dead Ethians.

- Oh, gods, we have to help him.
- No, wait.

Let's get out of here.

Susannah, you have to go.

- Now!
- Looky what we have here.

- Go.
- Jane, be careful.

Halt!

- Stop!
- Come back!

- We see you!
- Jane!

Come on!

- Jane!
- Guildford, leave me.

No!

I'll thank you
to take your sword out of my face.

Be quiet.

Listen to your husband, Lady Jane.

Oh, yes. We know who you are.

And we have orders to kill you.

Like this, Mr. Phillips.

You'll make a cracking
Kingsland Guard, Hodgkins.

Jane, run!

Got you now.

Kill him, Hodgkins.

- Holy shit.
- Holy shit.

Run away!

No! No! No, no, please!

If you ever have the opportunity

to make l'amour after nearly being killed
by your cousin's soldiers,

following an attempted rescue
of a faked kidnapping

by the metamorphic underclass
hiding in woodland camps

in your divided Kingdom,

well, you simply must.

It's tremendous fun.

Gods, I want you.

I want...

I...

I want a divorce.

We had a deal.

This...

is... madness.

Yeah, you're right.

This is madness.

I bid you good night.

- Has Leicester sent for me?
- He's passed out drunk.

Mother made sure of it.

Thank the gods.

You need more wine.

Margaret, I...

I always thought,
with Jane marrying Guildford,

Mother would find me
someone I could actually... love.

You can't stay married to him.

I have no choice.

You're giving up?

- You're pathetic.
- And you're a child.

But one day you'll be just like me and
Jane and every noble girl in the Kingdom.

You'll do what you're told.

Fuck that.

I thought you didn't sleep.

I thought you knew how to knock.

I did. For quite some time.

I could hear you snoring through the door.

What do you want, Guildford?

Believe it or not,
I came to see if you were all right.

Those men we bested were Kingsland Guards.

And they knew our names.

They were looking for us.
Why would they want to kill us?

I don't know.

I'll write to Edward first thing.

Look, Jane.

I don't want to be the kind of man
that doesn't keep his word.

You asked me
about the first time I changed.

It happened the day
that my mother was murdered.

I'm so sorry.

Please.

Don't make me talk about it.

I promise.

I'll never lie to you again.

We'll try another cure tomorrow.

And then you might get
your precious divorce.

If therapists
were invented in 1553,

our brooding, tortured hero
would be a different man,

and this would be a different story.

But they weren't.

And he isn't.

And it can't be.

So here we are.

How long does it take
the average person to suffocate?

If the average person
is a rheumy-eyed septuagenarian

with liver failure, sleep apnea,

dropsy, galloping syphilis,
and, of course, gout,

the answer is...

...not long.

Has anyone seen Leicester?

Hmm?

Oh.

Seems to have taken a bit of a turn.

That's a pity.

Hmm.

Come on, girls.

Busy day.

The King is dead!
The King is dead!

The King is dead!

It's go time.

The King is dead!

Didn't I tell you
it would be worth the wait?

The King is dead!

Call the Council.

The King is dead!

It's time to read the Will.

Why, there it is, Edward's Will.

Bess stole it to ensure its safekeeping
and had it this whole time.

Don't look at me like that.

What a clever clogs.

If Edward named Jane,
Mary will never recover.

Who knows what might happen to me?

But if it's Mary, then it's Mary.

Pet, what would you do?

Petunia!

Thank you all for bearing witness
on this historic day.

A historic day indeed.

Ah, my Lord Seymour.

- The King's Will.
- Mm-hmm.

Where's the Royal Seal?

It'll be fine.

- Seymour, the King's Seal...
- It will be fine.

Stop micromanaging me.

My fellow counselors...

...I confidently believe

that our King left us
in the most capable hands.

So let us see whose hands those are.

I have King Edward's Will.

And it bears his Royal Seal.

Oh, my word.

Jane knows
she ought to be researching,

but she just can't stop thinking
about Guildford.

His tragic past.

His uncertain future.

And if a cure even exists,

will she ever find it?

My Lady, a messenger from London.

My husband's not in, I'm afraid.

It's for you.

A message for me?

Are you from the Palace?

Edward?

King Edward is dead.

Gods...

His Majesty named you heir to the crown.

Long live Queen Jane.