Outlander

Previously...

I love ye, Jocasta MacKenzie.

This world may change...

But that will never change.

Must get a message to Murtagh, then.

If he can be warned, maybe he can convince his men to retreat.

I'll deliver the message to Murtagh.

You cannot win. You do not win.

The history has been written.

Then I do fight.

Ye're with the militia, are ye?

I came to warn you about Tryon.

So ye're a traitor.

I released ye from yer oath.

I'd never betray yer mother,

no matter who asked.

Murtagh?

Roger?

Bree.

Fear not, it's not life or death.

Just a bit of red pen...

Or is it, Mr. Jones?

I'm sorry, sir?

Is it life and death, do you think?

I... I don't suppose so, sir.

But I was wondering, what does it mean

when you write the term so-and-so "was finally able to bury the hatchet"?

We all know that means to make peace in some way,

but can you tell me why anyone would go

to the trouble of burying one?

Perhaps you should just go, then.

Unless you have any last words for us before ye leave.

"I came, I saw, I conquered."

Not quite what I'm looking for, Mr. Morgan.

And those were not Caesar's last words.

Although he did meet an unhappy end.

Stay, Mr. Jones.

I wanted to see if you'd agree with me,

because I do believe it's a question of life and death.

Your essays on famous last words were forgettable.

I wanted you to really think about why

people say what they say

and perhaps to consider

what your own final words might be, given the chance.

What does it matter, sir?

This is history, not creative writing.

Because people live and die by their words.

They shape our thoughts and deeds.

Often, they define us.

Like bullets, once fired,

well, we can't take 'em back.

They have impact,

so choose them wisely.

Make them meaningful.

Live a life worthy of them,

especially your last words.

They outlive us.

And what will yours be, sir?

It is my dying wish, O Lord,

that my students write structured arguments...

Supported by evidence and legible handwriting, amen.

No, really, sir.

I'd say...

I'd say let history forget my name...

So long as my words and my deeds

are remembered by those I love.

That's all for today.

Until next week.

You're early.

Couldn't resist the chance to see you in action.

And if you wanna make The Great Train Robbery,

we need to get a move on.

Yeah, are you sure you're all right

with a silent movie marathon?

You aren't just humoring me?

No, I am.

But you suffered through an entire lecture

about suspension bridges.

So fair is fair.

Would those really be your last words?

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

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

Everything looks good.

Your throat's healing nicely. Scar's faded.

How do you feel?

You really should try to speak, Roger.

It'll sound croaky at first, but it's perfectly normal.

Maybe just try to whisper.

All right, well...

Just know that I'll be teaching Jem to say

"sweater" and "aluminum."

It's not gonna be "jumper" or "aluminium."

70% of communication is nonverbal,

so, who needs words, anyway?

We can pretend we're in one of those silent movies

we used to go and see in Oxford or Kenmore Square.

Lord John has brought a-a whole trunk of books and gifts.

Would you like to come up to the house to see him?

All right, well...

I'll go with you.

Coward, whichever way you look at it.

My roommate from MIT, Gayle,

she had this boyfriend who went to Vietnam.

I didn't really know him all that well,

but she asked me to go with her to see him a few times after he got back.

He'd been back almost a year when I first went.

I don't really know what I was expecting, but...

He was like a zombie...

Just no life in his eyes at all.

Gayle called it his "thousand-yard stare."

He was hit by some shrapnel,

but he wasn't seriously injured.

Yeah, we would call that "war neurosis."

Shell shock.

It's been months now,

and you said that Roger is physically fine.

So maybe it is war neurosis.

I mean, it must be mental,

psychological...

It's like he's drowning in silence.

And he has that same thousand-yard stare in his eyes.

I'm afraid he's lost.

No matter how lost he is,

you just have to have faith that you find him.

There'll be nae more liltin'

Nae laughin' or kissin'

Go in peace and

Leave us to grieve

Sighin' and moanin'

On ilka green loanin'

The flowers of the forest

Are all wede away

I thought perhaps I could have had

a headstone made for him.

I ken 'tis no' my place.

Murtagh and I were not husband and wife.

Neither were we father and son,

but it doesna make the pain any less...

Or easier to bear.

He was as stubborn as yer father.

If only he'd stayed by your side.

He did.

He kept his vow to me, to my mother.

He was loyal above all.

We canna fault him for that.

Your carriage awaits, Mistress.

Ye'll give my thanks to Claire once more.

Aye.

Well...

Good-bye, Auntie.

How careful we'd be if we kent which good-byes were our last.

"I offer my apologies for the injury done to your son-in-law.

"It was a most regrettable error."

Governor Tryon has granted Roger

5,000 acres in the backcountry.

What? Why?

Compensation.

Or perhaps he thinks he can buy your forgiveness.

And what will we do with 5,000 acres?

It won't undo what's happened to Roger,

but it's a valuable tract of land.

Tryon can keep his land. I don't need land.

I need my husband back.

I brought something...

Something that always made me feel as though

I had the wisdom of the heavens

in the palm of my hand.

The astrolabe is, in many ways, a model of the universe,

an instrument you can use to find your position,

whether on land or at sea.

You can even use it to tell the time.

To find our place in the world?

Perhaps we should start with something small.

How 'bout telling the time?

So...

If the sun was there,

that would mean...

5:30.