Poldark (2015–…): Season 3, Episode 8 - Episode #3.8 - full transcript

Agatha's dying words have the desired effect on Warleggan, who vents his anger by freezing out his wife and son, and dismissing more mine workers, whom the kindly Ross then employs. ...

I wish Drake and Sam would find
contentment. Have you found it?

The old smith died last month.
It's yours.

I think ye still pine for the girl
who be lost to ye.

I've missed you, sister! Rowella!

I did not know what the obligations
of marriage would be.

Is he unkind to you?

He is a monster.

Truro lacks an MP.

Sir Francis intends to put up
his own candidate

to challenge Falmouth's.

I regret I must decline.



Your stubbornness will be your undoing.

I'm no Leonardo,
but you are surely Mona Lisa.

That was no eight-month baby, George.

So maybe somebody got there before ye!

I should not have told him.

My great aunt is dead.

Bury her in a pauper's grave
with no headstone?

She WILL have a headstone.

She was the last
of the Trenwith Poldarks.

Barring Geoffrey Charles.

What is my offence, George?

Since Aunt Agatha's death, there's
scarce been two words between us.

Of course I was unhappy
that she was buried in haste,

without due ceremony...



We do not know what she died of -

my concern was solely
about possible infection.

and perhaps I was wrong
in challenging you so vigorously -

but why should your displeasure
extend to Valentine?

You've barely looked at him for weeks.

I've been occupied with other matters...

and expect to be so
till after the election.

And then?

I will go to London.

Will you take tea?

I thank you, ma'am. This is not a...

social call.

Ah.

I have...

called...

on a personal matter.

Therefore, what I have to say
must be utterly confidential.

Everything between doctor
and patient is confidential.

Yes, but this pertains not to me,
but to my son, Valentine.

Yes?

He was...

an eight-month child, correct?

Born premature
because of my wife's fall.

And from what I could tell,

suffered no ill-effects
for coming a month early.

I believe...

I am told...

That...

an eight-month child has no nails.

Not necessarily the case.

Or hair. It's usually sparse.

And that the skin is wrinkled.

So is that of many at full term.

My son, if you recollect,
had nails, smooth skin,

and a goodly head of hair.

I observed nothing
at the time of his birth

which might lead me to speculate
that anything...

was not as it should be.

In other words, you will not tell me.

In other words,

I cannot categorically say
one way or another.

Were I able, I would do so.

I would remind you,
you are pledged to secrecy.

And I would remind you
that I am a gentleman, sir...

as well as a doctor.

Warleggan's cut wages
at three of their mines.

Again?

12 mile these have walked
on the off-chance of work.

Shall I send 'em away?

The spirit is willing,
but the flesh is weak.

Watch and pray,
that ye enter not into temptation.

Put on the armour of God,

that ye may be able to withstand
the wiles of the devil.

For straight is the gate,
and narrow is the way...

which leads to virtue
and purity of heart.

My dear, what an age it's been! Hmm!

You and George must dine with us.

I would have asked him today,
but he left in such haste.

George has been to visit?

Oh, not me. My husband.

A social call?

A private matter.

Concerning?

Oh, you know Dwight.
Never discusses his patients.

I've examined your wife, sir.

She is within a month of her time,
and I have some concern.

What's she complained of now?

Of nothing, sir.

She merely answered my question
about the nature

of your marital relations.

What?!

She's no right to discuss
such matters with you!

She has every right, as do I,

to ensure the safety
of your unborn child.

You have, if I may say so,
a substantial physique.

Unless you wish to risk
crushing the child...

You're suggesting I forgo my...

My conjugal rights?

To a man of God,
abstinence can surely be no hardship.

Not in the least, sir.

Those men we took on when George
shut Leisure - they're at 40 level.

Could we make use of the
new arrivals there?

'Tis not down to you to
feed half the county.

True -

but then the tiresome creatures
sicken and starve,

and it's damned expensive,
mopping up corpses, digging new graves.

Cheaper to find 'em a pitch?

For my own convenience,
I see no other way.

Ah, Zacky. Will you tell my patients
I'll be with them directly?

Thank you.

Forgive me. I was disagreeably detained.

By whom?

George Warleggan.
And Reverend Whitworth.

I can't decide which encounter
was the more unpleasant.

In what regard?

Mmm...
Nothing I'm at liberty to disclose.

Regrettably.

A rare bloom...

for one still rarer.

The Reverend Philip Webb
is lately deceased,

and the parish of St Sawle
is worth ?200 a year.

I feel it an excellent opportunity
to add to my portfolio.

You live in Truro.

Reverend Webb lived in London,
God rest his soul,

and paid Odgers ?40 a year
to manage the parish.

I would do the same.

I...

might even preach there occasionally.

I've applied to the Dean of Exeter,
in whose gift the living lies,

emphasising my Godolphin credentials
and connection to Lord Falmouth.

Oh, forget Falmouth.

Since I intend to vanquish
his nominee on election day,

you'd do better to apply
to Sir Francis and I.

Oh, well, in that case...

I feel sure your support would
sway the decision in my favour.

Mmm?

Oh! Erm...

Lieutenant Armitage brought me
a plant from his uncle's garden.

It seems we share a love of flora.

And fauna?

Of the mangy, flea-ridden variety?

Oh! Garrick! Down!

Down! Out! Out!

Out! He's charming.

Like his mistress.

Although when he first came, he was
wholly uncouth. Like his mistress?

Will you stay to dinner?

I'm expected at the Teagues'.

Mrs Teague has four unmarried daughters.

Well, having escaped one prison,
I'm in no haste to enter another.

You take a very sour view of marriage.

But not of love.

For, in love,
we keep company with the gods.

I don't think Mrs Teague
will be thinking along those lines.

Hmm.

He lives in a dream.

Armitage.

You know his sight is failing?

Pity.

He's an able navigator.

Yet he isn't a dream.

He's very real.

And I rely on your wonderful
common sense to remember that.

I'll take him to bed.

My wonderful common sense.
Mind I don't box your ears with it!

If ye had any sense, maid,

ye'd be roughin' and tumblin'
about the meadow with that pretty boy!

Oh, Prudie! Well...

Make's the blood boil to hear Mr Ross

talkin'
like there's none to compare with he.

Perhaps there ain't.

Never know till ye try!

SHE LAUGHS

Fire and iron, fire and brimstone.

Both possessed.

'Tis as good a way as any
to drive off heartache.

A well-chosen wife would do the same.

For thee, also, brother?

Good day, all.

My brothers sing in praise
of wedded bliss.

Do you think 'em right?

Do I look the marryin' kind?

As I see it, a girl's only power be

when she have men danglin' on a string.

Once they get her,
string's round her neck.

Choose wisely, and it needn't be.

Hmm. Can ye fettle this?
I'll return tomorrow.

Valentine, my sweet, shall we ask Papa

if he'd like us to accompany him
to Truro?

Imagine him as a Member of Parliament!

Papa is...

going to Tregothnan.

To see Lord Falmouth?

To inform him of the burgesses'
decision,

and thence to Truro -

and an election is no place
for children.

May we wish you luck?

Unnecessary.

Ah, gentlemen! Apologies -
I had business with my steward.

Now, erm...you'll be wishing to know
the name of your new member.

It is Mr Jeremy Salter of Exeter -
a distant cousin of mine.

Here are his credentials.
He is the man to vote for.

You'll wish to circulate them in
time for the voting this afternoon.

Your Lordship,
the burgesses met last night.

Oh, good.

Good.

And, as Your Lordship knows,
have always voted as you directed.

Naturally.

And if they ever felt bereft of choice,

the promise of favours,
or the threat of their withdrawal,

has made them sensible
of the need for compliance.

So the issue is...?

They now wish to vote
according to their own inclination.

Do they presume to suggest
some candidate of their own?

I myself have been asked to stand.

Ah. An entirely disinterested party!

And from trade, like your...

your sponsor, Basset.

We are not in France, sir -

your pitiful attempt at a revolution
is doomed to fail.

So commend me to your friends,
gentlemen.

All have received favours from me.

As I'll remind them
when I see them this afternoon.

Good day.

Garrick, get down!

Jeremy, why do you have to do that?

Is this what Caroline and I
have to look forward to?

I somehow doubt it.

Truro will be worse - it's election day.

And the voting begins at two.

Shall we go together?

My husband wants me to join him
at the Red Lion for the results.

I believe he dislikes me
entertaining while he's away.

No guest would give me
a moment's disquiet.

Except perhaps Hugh.

Bodrugan.

I'll get my hat.

Gentlemen, the voting to elect
Truro's next Member of Parliament

will now commence.

Oh, Mr Buscombe!

Erm... Now, that contract
I obtained for you last month...

It may have to be cancelled.

Mr Noye!
Your purchase of land at St Clement...

It may now not go through.

Disgraceful.

Quite so.

Yet the alternative...

I sympathise. Your dilemma is acute.

Gentlemen.

Sister?

What is it?

Mrs Whitworth?

Tell her I'll come at once.

And if we run into George,
don't tease him on his defeat.

I may not be able to resist.

Mrs Whitworth's labours
have taken a dangerous turn.

She's fallen into convulsions.

But the child will live?

At present, I'm concerned
for the safety of mother AND child.

Oh...

Dear Lord...

I begin to comprehend your purpose,

for you see now that my present wife
is unsuited to this life...

and if you ordain
that I should be widowed again...

guide thou my footsteps toward a...

suitable replacement.

Mr Fawcett! Yes, Lord Falmouth.

The loan of ?35 I made to you...
It have to be repaid.

Vicar?

Forgive me.

Dr Enys thought you should know.

You have a son.

A travesty. Unbelievable!

You will shortly see a different result,

affecting your finances and trade...

Let us leave this despot
to his rantings.

where your contracts are cancelled,
and your loans revoked!

Six and a half pounds!

My mother will be delighted.

I've already chosen a name -

John Conan Godolphin Osborne -
as a nod to the family connection.

Mrs Whitworth is sleeping.

She survived?!

Your prayers have been answered.

Oh, indeed, yes.

God be praised!

When can I see my son?

He won? Judas!

It's lunacy!

Dear me, Ross - you've placed me
in a deuced awkward position.

I enjoy cordial relations with Basset,
despite our banking rivalry,

and I fully support his wish
for reform...

yet I voted against him.

The devil you did!

I need hardly add,
had you accepted the nomination...

I would not have been suitable.

Basset's second choice is far less so.

Yet Sir Francis
seems a decent man at heart.

Ross!

This is well met.

Are you here to congratulate me?

I came to town with no other purpose.

When do you take your seat?

Er...next week.
I shall take a house in London.

Then we'll no longer be neighbours.

Oh, during summer recess.
If I cannot avoid it.

But if Trenwith becomes
surplus to requirements,

I may think of selling.
You should make him an offer.

Don't waste your time -
it will never become available to you.

Now, now, sir.

How does Geoffrey Charles
at his new school?

I fear he's inherited his father's
idle habits.

At school, as you recall, his father
was cleverer than either of us.

A promise he did not fulfil.

I, of course, pay the whole cost
of the boy's schooling,

when he should by rights have
sufficient income of his own.

From what? His shares in your mine.

Elizabeth sold his shares.

Under pressure, to you,
at a fraction of their worth.

And what news of Aunt Agatha's
headstone?

Could I possibly care less?

I'll call and discuss it with Elizabeth.

You will do no such thing.

Since it's a Poldark family matter...

Elizabeth is not a Poldark.

She was...

and so is her son.

Damn you, Ross. Damn your blood!

This is not seemly.

It does not become a gentleman,
nor a Member of Parliament.

My apologies, sir.

My regards to Westminster.

To Mr Warleggan!

Our new Member of Parliament.

Oh, but, then, what do that make thee?

Not to be crossed...

and useful to know.

Think on that, maid!

Parson Carne!

Have you been here all this time?

Why would ye not come
and have a drink with us?

The Lord hath forbid it.

What do ye hope to gain from stalkin'
me?

A soul for God.

And naught for thyself?

Walk me home...

and mind ye don't lay your
hands on me behind a hedge.

I... I never would.

For the Lord forbid it.

What a killjoy he be.

Come on, bufflehead.

And you are...?

Ah... Begging your pardon, Vicar.

Arthur Solway from the library.

I brought these books for Miss Rowella.

I disapprove of libraries.

The danger of exposing uninstructed
minds to ideas beyond their scope.

These are histories, sir,
of France and Greece.

Be off with you!

So, my dear,
you're to go to Westminster.

Where shall we take a house?

Caroline speaks highly of Hatton Garden,

but Lady Whitworth
favours Fitzroy Square.

I shall be going alone.

Why did you go to speak to Dwight?

What a peculiar question.

Is it?

Every husband needs time away
from his wife and children.

It makes them more appreciative
when he returns.

And I shall have much to do
in my first weeks in London.

Forging connections
with those that matter

must come before family distractions.

So, I'm to remain here.

For both our sakes.

You have my list of instructions?

Yes, sir.

Only...

regarding Mrs Warleggan...

Yes? What part of my orders is unclear?
You will watch her.

Where she goes, who she meets.

This just come from Tregoth...what's it?

Tregothnan?

I wondered how long it would take.

Lord Falmouth invites us to visit
before his nephew returns to sea.

Of course, that's merely the pretext.

His real motive... Is what?

We'll soon see.

And Lieutenant Armitage?

Do he have another motive?

Oh, shush!

There he goes.

Cornwall's hope for democracy.

And are you content?

That he speaks for Cornwall

while you stay home
and plough your fields?

Entirely content.

I like to be out of doors.

The climate of Westminster
would not agree with me.

What do ye want, Sam?

To bring ye to God.

I don't believe thee.

I suspicion what ye wants...

is me.

If I want ye, Emma...

'tis in purity of heart,

in the belief that your soul
could turn to Christ.

And if I want ye in another way...

'tis not from carnal lust...

but from a wish to sanctify our union.

Yer askin' I...

to wed ye?

I am.

I've rolled in the hayfields
with many a man.

I've...

drunk...and cavorted, and cussed...

And I've prayed for ye.

'Tis a waste of breath, Sam.

For I'm happy in my sin.

As you're happy in your goodness.

Right.

You're a rare good man, Sam.

But...

not for the likes of me.

How do you do, ma'am?

You're quite the young gentleman.

Is Uncle George here?

In London.

So it's just we two?

And Valentine.

Well, in that case...

can we have cakes by the fire?

And jellies.

And cream!

Do you not love him?

I must find a way.

It's no fault of his that I struggle.

What is it?

This morning...

Osborne came to me...

demanding...

that I...

That he...

But did not Dr Enys advise
at least six weeks of abstinence?

He did.

I wish he had advised six centuries.

Try to rest, sister.

I'll return when I've taken a bath.

We will say a prayer.

No, Ossie, Please! I cannot!

It'll soon be over.

Just close your eyes and submit.
No, please!

I confess, cousin,
I'd hoped to see you stronger.

I will be soon.

It grieves me that I cannot
nurse my baby.

I wanted to,
but Osborne insisted on a wet nurse.

Rowella,
can you take me to visit the child?

Of course.

I've missed you, Wenna.

And I you.

School is very diverting,
but it doesn't compare

to the beach at Hendrawna,
and our days there together.

Do you still think of him?

You mustn't ask me that.

I shall visit him soon.

May I tell him that I've seen you?

No.

Yes.

Tell him...

Tell him I do not forget him...

and never will.

If anything, she grows worse.

What treatment has she had?

Since the birth, none at all.

The vicar believes it's a nervous
complaint, which must be ignored.

Ah!

Cousin Elizabeth!

You find us in excellent health?

On the contrary,
I find Morwenna failing.

Why has Dr Enys not been sent for?

Expense, for one thing.

For another, I wonder if it's wise
to pander to hysterics.

Osborne,
if you do not send for Dr Enys, I will.

Mmm...

I must again ask you a delicate
question, Mrs Whitworth.

Good God, sir - the impertinence!

Of course I've resumed
marital relations!

Then you must cease forthwith!
How dare you suggest...

As her physician, I insist. Her body
is not healed. Nor her nerves.

If, after a month,
my treatment has brought no improvement,

you may dispense with my services.

Er...

I beg your pardon, vicar.

A month, then.

For my wife's sake.

Prudie!

What do we think for Tregothnan?
The scarlet or the green?

It's only a small gathering.

No need to get fligged up.

I have some business to attend to.

Might as well wear sackcloth -

'twould have the same
effect on some folk!

Elizabeth!

I came to see Agatha's grave.

I, too.

I gather from George
there's to be no headstone.

When did you speak to George?

On election day.

We met at the Red Lion.

Is something amiss?

Newly amiss, you mean?

You know how it vexes him
every time he sees you.

He cannot still be jealous
of our former attachment?

Whatever was between us is long past.

Its consequences may not be.

What does he imagine?
Oh, Ross, what do you think he imagines?

That Valentine is not his child.

And is he?

I cannot say. You WILL not say.

I will not say.

What...

does George suspect?

Have you never hinted?

Do you think me a monster?

To injure the woman I once loved?

Demelza, then.
It would destroy her to speak of it.

Then who?

Well,
who else was in the house that night?

Agatha.

Dear God!

Since the day of her death,
he's been icy towards me.

She must have told her suspicions,
for she could not know for sure.

Precisely what does George suspect?

He will not say.

Make him say, then deny it.

Lie, if necessary.

He has no proof that Valentine is mine.

There is no proof.

You're the one person who can do this,
Elizabeth.

I know George.

He would do anything to keep you.

He's wanted you from
the moment he met you.

I saw how he looked at you then.

I never dreamed he stood a chance.

Nor did he.

Nor did I.

Can you imagine how I felt
when I learned he was to have you?

You left me in no doubt that night!

Forgive me.

And thereafter?

Leaving me with no word,

making no attempt to see me?

Oh, how could I?
To break up your life afresh?

My life?

Our families?

And now?

Is it not perverse to
try and save a marriage

you did your best to prevent?

For the sake of your son...

do you not wish to save it?

I wish to save it.

Then there's one thing you can do,

which would put a seal on George's trust

which no-one could ever dispute.

Give him another child.

That cannot alter what's gone before.

It could...if there were
some confusion over the dates,

if it could seem to him
another eight-month child...

I must go.

Yes.

Goodbye, Ross.

I'd sooner make a wheel than
learn stupid Latin declensions!

It ain't only Latin, though.

You're learnin' how to be a gentleman.

And when I inherit Trenwith, you'll
come and live there as my steward,

and we'll make wheels together!

I saw her today.

She's had her child.

She asked me to give you a message.

You went to visit Aunt Agatha's grave?

And what did you find there?

Things I needed to attend to.

I met Elizabeth.

For the first time in years, we talked.

At first she was hostile,
but then she softened.

I kissed her.

I love her, Demelza.

Not as I did, but with fondness -

the ghost of a love.

I pity her.

I want to help her.

My conscience is sore,
for I treated her ill.

15 years ago I would have
given the earth for her,

and she hasn't changed.

She's no less lovely...

but I have.

I have changed because of you.

Ross, what things needed attending to?

I thought granite for the headstone.

Nothing else will survive the elements.

Now, if you've finished asking
questions, may I dress for dinner?

My dear friends!

Welcome.

Ross, my uncle would esteem it a favour

if you'd join him in his study.

You may trust your wife to my care.

I would hope so.

I assume Falmouth has
some proposal for Ross.

To put a sack over
the head of his beautiful wife?

So his nephew doesn't make
a complete fool of himself.

Tell me, Poldark,
what are your ambitions?

To live as I want,

to raise a family,

care for the people around me,

to be unencumbered of debt...

I think you underestimate your talents.

I am wholly aware of my capabilities.

I am also aware they are not for sale.

You and I have something in common.

We dislike George Warleggan.

And?

His friend Sir Francis Basset.

George and Sir Francis are not that
alike, despite current appearances.

True, they're both wealthy,

and their power has been generated
through the labour of others,

but whilst Sir Francis
values his menials,

George despises them...

as do many who enjoy inherited powers.

Basset is the new order. I am the old.

He seeks to overthrow me.

I would like you to help me prevent him.

And how would I do that?

I'm the unhappiest of men.

The woman I love more than life

is married to the man to whom
I owe my life...

and now I'm going away,
I can't bear the thought of losing her.

How can you lose what you've never had?

I've had her company,

her conversation,

the sound of her voice,
the touch of her hand...

I suspect what you think you've had -

the woman you think you see -
is not really there at all.

You think I idealise her?

It is not perfection that I seek.

It is flesh and blood.

I think I should like some more port.

When George's course is set,
it's hard to unseat him.

Nonetheless, I invite you to try.

Well, there's one possible way to
obstruct his parliamentary progress.

Which is?

Reconcile your aims
with those of Sir Francis.

Our views are totally opposed!

I see that. You're a hereditary peer
who exists to command.

You take governance as your right.

For you, the common man has no rights.

And never will -
he would not know what to do with them!

No, it is for we,
the aristocracy, to govern -

who better to uphold the traditions
that made our country great?

And the tradition of governing
through promised favours

and purchased influence?

Your exploits in France impressed me.

I assumed you'd gone there to
strike a blow against revolution.

I now find you are one of its advocates.

You are mistaken, my lord. I do not
endorse bloodshed and lawlessness.

But liberty, equality,
fraternity - these I can put my name to.

Well, I have no intention of so doing.

No, power must exist -

someone must possess it,

and since man is not perfect,
sometimes it is misused,

but who is more likely to misuse it?

The man who newly finds it in his grasp,

like one who has
never before tasted liquor?

Or the man who by heredity,
like you and I,

has learnt to take it in his stride,

who may taste the heady brew
without becoming drunk on it?

I think I must rejoin my wife.

She will think I've abandoned her.

Do not ask me for a smile

Life is short but love is long

Let me not your heart beguile

Pray content you with a song

Do not ask me for a kiss

Life is short but love is long

You may never know that bliss

So I offer you this song

Do not ask me for my heart

Life is short but love is long

Knowing we are soon to part

Consolation be my song.

I must go up and rest.

Before you do, sister,
this came for you.

Going to bed, my dear?

Take all the time you need.

Nothing matters more
than your wellbeing.

Thank you, Osborne.

Excuse me, Vicar. I'm going to my room.

My love...

Did you want me, Vicar?

Ah, yes!

I want to speak with you
about...your reading.

The Iliad?

At which part are you now?

Patroclus has just been slain by Hector,

and now there is a terrible
fight about his body.

For as you know, Vicar,

it is of great importance to the Greeks

that the funeral rites be performed
in full upon the body.

The body, y-yes...

Why do I not think you're very
interested in this story, Vicar?

Call me Osborne, would you?

Should you like to sit down, Vicar?

Oh, er...

I think you would.

Should you like me to sit on your lap?

I'm not sure I...

But of course you would.

You seem far away.

No more than you,
when you returned from Sawle churchyard.

We swore we'd keep no more secrets
from each other, Ross.

I have nothing to tell.

Do you?

Yes, though I think you will
find it hard to hear.

Try me.

I want to tell you that
I wish I could be two people.

One, your loving wife,
the mother of your children,

content in our life, as I am,
and as I ever wish to be.

And the other?

Someone else, someone new...

who could love another just for a day.

"Another"?

Laugh with him, kiss him,
love him, just for a day,

without feeling disloyal
to the man I truly love.

And do you think "another"
would be content with that?

I don't know.

Would you?

I think so,

for I know who it is
who truly owns my heart.

Do you doubt it?

Not till tonight...

till I saw you look at him...

the way you once looked at me.

I will look at you that way again, Ross.

Just be patient with me...

as I have been patient with you.

One. You have responded to the call
to defend your country.

Two. Can he be trusted?

More to the point, can you?

Three. There is no kindness
in giving false hope.

Four.

You will do as I command.

I'll kill your son!

Five. Is the matter handled?

Well and truly, sir.

Six. I love you.

Seven. Is he my son?

Eight. Who else's could he be?

Nine.

I may soon have a real battle to fight.

Spare me this one!

Ten.