Outlander (2014–…): Season 1, Episode 15 - Wentworth Prison - full transcript

A visit from Black Jack causes Jamie to realize a fate exists that is worse than his death sentence.

Previously...

I can draw up a petition of complaint,

accusing Randall of crimes
against the Scottish people.

If you can convince the Duke of Sandringham

to deliver that document,

it could lead to a
court-martial for Black Jack.

It's quite simple. Make free of your body,

and there will be no second flogging.

I couldn't do it.

Are we raiding the Chisholms today?

And I could do with a tall,
strong Scotsman.



I'll ride with you.

Where is Jamie?

Macquarrie was wounded.

Jamie wouldn't leave him behind.

I knew full well if I had
any hope of finding Jamie,

I'd need help.

I've news of Jamie.

He's in Wentworth Prison,
condemned to hang.

- We have to hurry.
- I'll no force, any of my men

to go to their deaths, but
I'll no stand in the way

of any that choose to go.

♪ Sing me a song ♪

♪ Of a lass that is gone ♪

♪ Say, could that lass ♪



♪ Be I? ♪

♪ Merry of soul ♪

♪ She sailed on a day ♪

♪ Over the sea ♪

♪ To skye ♪

♪ Billow and breeze ♪

♪ Islands and seas ♪

♪ Mountains of rain ♪

♪ And sun ♪

♪ All that was good ♪

♪ All that was fair ♪

♪ All that was me ♪

♪ Is gone ♪

♪ Sing me a song ♪

♪ Of a lass that is gone ♪

♪ Say, could that lass ♪

♪ Be I? ♪

♪ Merry of soul ♪

♪ She sailed on a day ♪

♪ Over the sea ♪

♪ To skye ♪

== sync & corrections by Wolfen ==
== www.addic7ed.com ==

Outlander S01E15
"Wentworth Prison"

I have to look
on the bright side, Fraser.

Nothing like being hung

to make your tossel
stand up solid as an oak.

Seems it's a little late
to be brandishing iron, does it not?

Ah, takes
the edge off of dying,

knowing that when my neck snaps,
I'll be discharging my juice

like a cannon blast.

I heard tell,

all that happens is ye shit yerself.

Well, so much for me trying
to cheer up a condemned man.

Ye've got an awful dark
view of the world, Fraser.

Lachlan Fife.

When they come to get ye,

I'll wrap my chain around their necks.

And grab his musket.

They'll shoot us down like dogs.

Not dogs. Men.

Is it the rope ye're afraid of?

No.

What grieves me is

to think my wife will never forgive me

for foolishly getting myself hung.

Aye. Nothing like a wife

to make a man feel disquieted
at his own death.

For me, I always knew I was fated to dangle

from the end of a rope, so I made sure

to leave none behind to mourn for me.

Truth be told, I'm no looking
forward to it much, meself.

_

_

Taran Macquarrie.

I'm no gonna let these bastards see it.

I've got one regret, Fraser.

What would that be, Mr. Macquarrie?

Well that I'll be climbing
those steps before you.

Other way around, you could've put in
a good word for me with St. Peter.

To think my last view of the world

will be a bunch of ill-faured,
pasty-faced Englishmen.

My only regret is that I wasted
my life as a common thief,

rather than a patriot serving my country

fighting against you lot.

To the devil with england
and God bless King...

James Fraser.

Ah!

Stop!

Stop the executions!

I'm on the King's business.

Take that man down and put him in a cell...

Remove the rope!

Escort the prisoner
to one of the dungeon cells.

Rory McNeil.

You must suffer from
dodgy eyesight, mate.

That wall is solid stone.

In 20 years, you might get that bolt loose.

'Cept you ain't got 20 years.

Compliments of Captain
Jonathan Randall, esquire.

Must be good to have a friend of means.

If you're smart, you'll eat
a hearty meal, have a wash,

and your luck can change
at any minute, boyo.

Fraser, James.

And you say you know the prisoner?

Yes, that's right.

- Close relation?
- Not particularly.

A family connection. I hardly
know the man, really.

I should think not.

An Englishwoman of fine breeding
and a common Scottish criminal.

Ah. Here we are.

It appears he's been granted
a temporary stay of execution.

At least for a little while.
Stroke of luck, I suppose.

When was the last time you
were in contact with this, um,

- individual?
- Many years.

Old as the connection may
be, I felt it a kind gesture

to come visit.

My Christian duty.

I'm sure you can understand.

I could tell you're a Christian
woman the moment you entered.

May I see him, Sir Fletcher?

I should like nothing better than
to help you, Mrs. Beauchamp.

Unfortunately, I cannot allow it.

If something were to happen,
I would never forgive myself.

I understand your position,
Sir Fletcher, I do,

but this man comes from good people.

How sad that a young man in this situation

would be estranged from his family.

If he wished to write a letter to them,

of reconciliation,

I would be pleased
to deliver it to his mother.

You are thoughtfulness itself, my dear.

One moment, madam.

I don't believe a letter
directly from the convict

would be appropriate.

However, this may give the family solace.

The prisoner's personal effects.

Customarily, we send them on to whomever
the prisoner designates as a next of kin,

after execution.

Perhaps you could take it to them.

I'd be happy to.

Well then, I believe the Lord
will smile upon you for this good deed.

Up you get, lass.

Up you get.

Ooh...

Bastard!

Five in a row!

Come on.

You rigging this?

- It's me now.
- Put yer money in.

Aye, you've got the luck
of the devil, you bastard!

I have two coins left!

Would you listen to those two donkeys?

Jamie's facing a neck stretching
and all they care about

is rolling double sixes.

I didn't realize Jamie's fate
meant so little to them.

Don't despair, mistress.

The boys here prised
you out of Fort William,

right under Black Jack Randall's very nose.

And that was no easy task.

Easier than this.

A fort is only there to keep people out.

A prison is there to keep people in.

And what of it?

I was only stating a fact, mistress.

Cheers.

Cheers.

The next round
is on the two of you.

And the one after that.

Think again.

We're skint.

Ye seem awfully cheery about it.

Well, it's who we lost
to that has us grinning.

They need to know.

By all means, tell them.

What, me? No, I think it should be you.

- You lost more.
- Aye, but you...

Aye, but you kept ordering more ale.

Kept their throats well
lubricated, you did.

Ahh.

Sober up and speak yer piece.

Oh, ho.

While you three were
sitting here looking glum,

we were losing our coin to two...

Not one... but two.

Wentworth jailers.

Those men work at the prison?

What did you learn? Anything useful?

Aye, I believe so.

The warden...

- What's his name?
- Sir Fletcher.

- The very man.
- Aye.

He insists on having his
evening meal in private.

After which, he reads his Bible.

Every day. 25 minutes of quiet reflection.

Introspection.

Self-examination.

And?

The man's away from his
office for a full hour.

Go on.

Isn't that enough? Hmm?

Yes.

I believe it is.

"Whoso pulleth out this sword

"of this stone and anvil

is rightwise King born of all britain."

I wondered when ye'd show yerself.

Expected ye to come alone.

Marley?

Not much in the way of intellect.

But impressively brutal,
when given the opportunity.

I apologize for the prison Commissary,

but I see you managed well enough.

Good for you.

So...

You couldn't keep out
of prison long enough to hear

if your pardon had been granted or not.

Your petition of complaint against me?

Surely you haven't forgotten.

You recognize this?

'Course you do.

I'm afraid that the Duke of Sandringham

likes to talk.

Especially when he drinks.
Certain mutual acquaintances

passed his words along to me,

and...

Well...

We spoke.

Certainly is a most
extraordinary document, a...

Well, a complete
blackening of my character.

If presented to the Court of Sessions,

I would wager they
would find in your favor,

and...

Well...

I'd hate to think what would happen to me.

Might be me up on that
gibbet, instead of you.

Here to see Sir Fletcher,
he's expecting us.

Right this way, ma'am.

Sir Fletcher didn't mention naught to me

about having you back here.

Nor about any letter to pass along.

Are you implying that
Sir Fletcher lied to me

about Mr. Fraser being allowed
to write a letter to his family?

Didn't say anything about lying.

Then perhaps you should ask him yourself.

Sir Fletcher is indisposed, at present.

Must I remind ye, ye're speaking to a lady?

Begging your pardon, madam.
It's not often quality

such as yourself visits this muck heap.

Until Sir Fletcher returns,
you can wait here.

But don't go wandering,

ain't a safe place for the fairer sex.

Your concern for my welfare is duly noted.

Perhaps you'd like to wait with me?

I suspect you've been on your
feet for most of your shift.

Would you like to take a seat?

You trying to get me discharged?
I've got my duties to perform.

Of course. My apologies.

Be at ease.

I promise I shan't leave this room.

And besides, I have my
manservant here to protect me,

should I be in need of such.

And who's gonna protect him?

You're a bold lass, asking him to stay.

I was afraid if I didn't, he
might come up with it himself.

We have to find keys and a map
to this godforsaken place.

May I call you Jamie?

I care not.

But if ye're expecting
me to beg for my life,

you'll be sorely disappointed.

No, that would
be a waste of both our time.

I am unable to save you
now, even if I wished to.

Our time together here...
is but a momentary reprieve.

Well, dinna bother.

I prefer the noose to yer company.

Is that true?

Why? Do I make you uncomfortable?

Do I haunt your dreams since Fort William?

When you awaken in the middle of the night,

shaken and sweating,

is it my face you see
looming in the darkness?

Tell me.

When you lie upon your wife,

and her hands trace
the scars on your back...

Do you ever think of me...

And soften?

What is it you want from me, Randall?

I want you to admit the truth to yourself.

- And what would that be?
- That you escaped Fort William,

but you did not escape me.

Surrender this... this pride
that you hide behind

and admit that even now, you're terrified.

Admit it.

Admit that one simple thing,

and I will give you something in return.

A final gift.

A gift?

The noose,

'tis such an ignoble ending.

Give me what I ask

and I will give you
the death that you deserve.

Clean, honorable, and

of your own choosing.

You could have a Roman death.

You could fall on your sword like Brutus.

Or maybe a Greek demise.

Socrates took hemlock.

No...

Perhaps you do not want

to see my face at the end.

I understand.

I can simply slit your throat from behind.

It's messy, but...

The choice is yours.

How will I ever choose?

But choose you must.

First, you must
give me your surrender.

And make no mistake,

I will have your surrender
before you leave this world.

Claire, we've looked all over.
There's no map.

Well, what good are keys
if we don't know where

he's being held?

Lass, we don't have the time!

I just need a few more minutes!

Thought I'd check in
on you, Mrs. Beauchamp,

make sure you're...

Tie him up and hide him somewhere.

With a bit of luck
I'll be able to find Jamie

before the alarm is sounded.

Wait for me, I'll come with you.

No.

If I get caught, I can say that...

You quarreled with the
jailor and I fled for help.

Well, what will I tell them at the gate?

Tell them that I sent you out
to get a gift for Sir Fletcher.

Remember, you work for an
English woman of noble birth.

And you remember, ye've
got less than an hour

before Sir Fletcher returns.

Meet me in the
woods behind the prison.

We'll be waiting for you.

Good luck to you, too, lass.

- Jamie?
-Who's there?

Are you there?

I'll be yer Jamie, lass.

Come and get me.

Let us out, lass.

Wait, come back.

Jamie?

Jamie!

Does anyone know where
I would find Jamie Fraser?

Of Broch Tuarach.

Not in here. Try down below.

That's where they keep those
of us that hanging's too good for.

Thank you.

All right.

I won't surrender.

To you,

or any man.

I have to admit.

There is a part of me that
would be crestfallen if you did.

You know that every man can be broken.

It's... truly nothing to be ashamed of.

Will you show me your back?

If it'll stop yer talking.

Hmm.

May I?

You're the broken one.

Ye're the one that sees
my face every night.

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Idiot.

You could've killed him.

Get him up.

Do it, dog! Get him up.

I'd truly hoped to spare you the noose.

Hold his wrist.

Hold his wrist!

Argh!

I would lay
it flat, if I were you.

Why do you force me to treat
you in such an abominable way?

Why do you choose to spend
the few hours left to you

as a miserable cripple?

Why do you force me to hurt you?

Hmm?

You're better than this.

Wake up. Look at me.

Look at me.

There.

There you are.

Mm-hmm.

Yes...

Yes, yes!

Hey, shh, hey.

Yes.

Can you feel that?

No... Kill you... Ah...

Can you feel that? Shh, shh, shh, shh.

It's all right.

Ah!

Could take you right now.

No.

I will not give in to coarse passion.

If you'd only stop resisting me,

I could make this so much easier for you.

I'm here to help you. Don't fight me.

Jamie?

Jamie!

Claire, how did you...

You must leave.

Randall will be coming back soon.

Randall is here?

My God...

What has he done to you?

But you must leave.

No. Not without you.

Talk to me, Jamie.

Wake up!

Jamie.

You must stay awake.

We're going to walk out of here together.

Stay with me.

You truly have a gift

for showing up at the
most unexpected times.

You beast.

You can do better than that.

You fucking sadistic piece of shit!

I should have slit your throat
when you were laying unconscious

at Fort William.

Yes.

I'm afraid you will come to regret that

small act of humanity.

You're no coward.

I will grant you that.

A fit match for your husband,

and I cannot give you a
better compliment than that.

The sweat of exertion.

Bravo.

This way. This door's open.

How dare you interrupt me while
I'm conducting an interrogation?

Begging your pardon, Captain,

but we have reason to
believe that earlier today,

that woman there was
involved in an escape attempt.

Well, now you
found her. Congratulations.

But since that is the prisoner
she had hoped to free,

you can see the... the search
can now be called off.

Please, you must take me to Sir Fletcher.

He needs to be made aware
of what's going on in here.

Please.

Will the captain allow us to
take the woman into custody?

No. No, he will not.

This woman is involved in a
rebel plot against his majesty.

- God save the King.
- God save the King!

You tell your commander I have
the situation well in hand.

Yes, sir.

Now get. Out.

Search her for weapons.

Do myself, I'm not
in the mood for cunt today.

But I imagine Marley here
would like to entertain you,

privately in his quarters.

You wouldn't prefer to watch?

I may have what are
called "unnatural" tastes,

but I do have some aesthetic principles.

Hmm.

You are a very lovely woman,

shrewish tongue not withstanding.

Do I want to see you with Marley?

No.

I don't think I do want to watch that.

Right, wake up. Your presence is required.

Oh, Christ.

Are you watching?

Stop!

Make me a better offer.

Have me.

Let her go in safety and you can have me.

I won't struggle. You...
you can do what you wish.

Jamie, no.

You have my word.

So... it becomes a matter of trust.

Your word for mine.

Aye.

Will you allow me a brief
test of your sincerity?

Don't!

Your hand. Lay it upon the table.

No, the ruined one.

No!

- Don't do it!
- Silence her, or I will.

Claire, please.

No, no!

Claire, no! No, shh.

Shh...

Shh, shh.

I haven't even begun.

Now kiss me.

Take her away.

We will remember this moment
for the rest of our lives.

Take her away.

No.

No, no!

I beg you, let me say good-bye!

I can't leave you!

Yes, you will. Do as I say.

- I love you...
-.

I shall return shortly.

Walk.

I recently heard an
extraordinary rumor about you.

There was a trial held at Cranesmuir.

You were accused of being a witch.

Yes.

Witch I am.

And I curse you.

I curse you with knowledge, Jack Randall.

I give you

the hour of your death.

Jonathan Wolverton Randall.

Born September 3rd, 1705.

Dies...

She's away safe?

Yes. You have my word.

It's a masterpiece.

How does it feel,

to be alive,

yet wear so much dead flesh?

Shall we begin?

Murtagh!

Willie!

Murtagh!

Anybody?

You shut your gob, woman.

Ye wanna bring the redcoats down on us?

We have to go back for him.

Pitch dark, and those
idlers still haven't returned.

Claire Fraser, this

is sir Marcus MacRannoch,
a loyal friend to our clan.

This is his home we're sheltering in.

Thank you.

We could use a loyal friend right now.

Tell me,

how many men can you muster?

To rescue yer husband
from Wentworth Prison?

Tonight if possible.

Or tomorrow morning at the very latest.

None.

For it means risking the redcoats

coming around afterwards,

and leveling Eldridge House to the ground.

No lass, I'm sorry.

Temporary shelter I can offer ye,

but I'll no put my family
or myself in jeopardy.

I can pay you.

I wouldn't ask your men
to risk their lives for nothing.

A half dozen or so
would give us a fighting chance.

A dozen would give us
an even better chance.

Where did you get these, woman?

Fraser, ye say your name was?

That's right.

My husband gave them to me
on our wedding night,

they're yours, if you'll help us.

Did he indeed?

Ellen's son?

Your husband is Ellen MacKenzie's son?

Aye,

and ye'd Ken it if ye saw him.

He's the spit of her.

I gave these to Ellen MacKenzie,
as a wedding gift.

I've thought of them so often
around her bonny neck.

I wonder if she ever thought
of me while wearing them.

So, they're yours now.

You wear them in good health.

I'd stand a better chance of doing that

if you'd help me get my husband back.

Ah, I see.

But what I canna see is how it can be done.

I have a wife and three
bairns asleep upstairs.

I must look to their protection.

Aye, I would do a bit for Ellen's lad.

But it's a bit much you ask.

Well, that just leaves the five of us.

It'll have to do.

I know how to get us inside.

I left a door open at
the rear of the prison.

An open door is nay a plan, lass.

Anyone?

It gives me no pleasure to say such...

Absalom!

Man!

I sent you out at daybreak,

to bring in 40 head of cattle!

What have you been up to all that time?

Searching!

All bloody day!

Well, ye sure
as shite didna go thirsty.

How many did ye bring in?

19.

19.

19 out of 40?

What are ye, blind,
man? Is yer nose not working?

19 cattle...

That's no small number.

And what the hell is so funny

about 21 missing cattle?

I know how we can save young Jamie.

== Sync & cirrections by Wolfen ==
== www.addic7ed.com ==