Poldark (2015–…): Season 5, Episode 3 - Episode #5.3 - full transcript

He could help us discover who
falsely accused you.

My money's on that bastard Hanson.

At the time of the hearing,

was there ever mention of a man
named Bannantine?

His testimony could have made all
the difference.

If I, or you, attempt to go against
'em...

You've no idea what they're capable of.

A veritable Nelson!

And all on credit! Unless I can
secure a wealthy benefactor.

...keep her distance still?

She's yet so broken...



...and may never mend.

Are you sure, George? Is this really
what you wish?

Have I not a mind of my own?!

Sir, I cannot allow my nephew to
sign this document.

What?!

Since your reconnection with Despard,

you've embarrassed the Crown and its
ministers.

Now the Crown requires you to make
amends.

Are you happy now?

With our feet back on Cornish soil?

All's right in the world.

London cannot touch us.

Why do you smile?

Why do you?



Recalling a certain night?

When you asked me if I liked you?

And do you?

Like me still?

For some strange reason!

As I, perversely, still like you!

Well, that's only fitty!

Everything's fitty...

...now we're home...

...and London and its strange ways
are far, far away.

Captain Poldark...

...if you are reading this letter,
then I am dead.

With my demise, you must be made
aware of the forces

with which you are dealing.

They are without remorse.

If you would preserve yourself, and
your family,

distance yourself from Ned Despard,

lest the association be fatal to you...

...as it has been so to me.

Bannantine's dead.

What?

How?

Drowned!

His landlady says...

An accident?

You think it likely?

Hanson's in Truro.

I can't know if he had a hand in
Bannantine's death

but I do know his presence here...

Is unlikely to be for the good of
his health.

He'd be well-advised to avoid me.

And you him.

In fact, you'd be well-advised to
avoid confrontation of any kind.

So, I should go to ground?

Literally. Below grass.

Have we broken through yet?

I told 'em they should've used more
powder.

The Colonel must bear with us.

We're a cautious lot here!

So the job takes twice as long!

Come on, man! Where's our derring-do?

Oh!

Ned and his fireworks!

Seems to have whetted Master Ross's
appetite for 'em!

Ned learnt his trade building
fortifications in America.

He knows what he's doing.

Rosina!

Oh, dear! Poor Tommy.

Have you been fighting?

No, mistress.

I'm feared 'tis scurvy.

Dr Enys warned me it might return.

Well, that won't do, will it?

Hm?

Thank you, ma'am.

Sithee, Captain! My lad, Arthur, be
12 now

and more than fitted for work below
grass.

And, when he's 14, he shall have it.

Aye, but that's two year away.

How do you expect him to survive on
children's wage till then?

You know very well why I keep
children above grass

until they're 14.

They earn less in the short-term
but, in the long-run, more.

They live longer.

Now's when the living's needed.

My lad's weak with hunger!

And Demelza, at this very moment, is
in Sawle handing out supplies.

He don't want charity. He wants
men's work.

And if he'll not offer it, I know
who will.

Come on, lad. We'll ask Warleggan
for work.

Your mother would be most aggrieved
to think of you

neglecting your studies.

But I haven't.

Am I not correct, dear?

We certainly want no dunces here!

Sir.

My dear, would you care to accompany
me to Truro?

I have matters to attend to at the bank.

Ah, I think not.

Cardy, assist Sir George to his room.

He's unwell.

He is no such thing.

My dear, you tell him, I'm perfectly
fine.

Cardy, take his arm.

This is... this is outrageous! Unhand me!

Elizabeth, tell them to unhand me!

See it done by tomorrow.

Orders from Mistress Poldark.

'Tis lucky my sister have such a
generous heart.

After what ye did.

Not many'd give you a second chance.

Maybe I give her a second chance?

How so?

How long do you think I be content
to skivvy

and scrape and take orders?

'Tis only biding time till better
comes along.

Better what?

Better work.

Better wage.

Better mistress.

Better mate.

Don't trouble yourself to fetch this.

I'll have brother Sam send it.

Brother Sam it be, then.

Head of the Royal Cornwall Infirmary?

Well, Dr Enys, it's no more than you
deserve.

But more than I desire.

Note the timing?

Hard on the heels of the Hadfield trial?

Yes, my love, but, whether you like
it or not,

you are now a celebrity.

So, you think I should accept?

Do you not?

And abandon my patients here?

Well, Horace believes your patients
here take you very much for granted.

Horace knows that one of the few
advantages of being a wealthy

squire is my ability to treat
patients without

the need to charge excessively.

At least consider it.

I will consider it.

Sit down. Leave it.

Take a seat.

Mr Hanson!

Are you enjoying Cornwall?

Two ales, please.

I'm here on business so have little
time for pleasure.

But surely the two are not incompatible?

Depending on how one conducts one's
business

and what its aims might be.

Surely the aim of any business is to
make a profit?

Sit down.

Did you enjoy the pamphlet?

I found it a little one-sided.

Like the reports which accused its
subject of treason?

You wouldn't happen to know who's
responsible?

I don't concern myself with other
people's affairs.

Are you quite sure of that?

Ned...

...I think we're wanted elsewhere.

What portion of "avoid
confrontation" was unclear to you?

Apologies.

I could not resist.

Besides, ask yourself...

...what really brings that man to
Cornwall?

Who's this?

Charlie and Jacob.

My apprentices.

Good day to you, sirs.

Can we afford them?

No.

But they come every day, begging to
learn, and I can't ask 'em

to work for naught.

- And better here than down the mine.
- And don't I know it!

I went below at nine and I'd never
wish such a fate on any son of mine.

Thank you.

Wedded bliss! Are they not enough to
recommend the state?

Not to me! No disrespect, ma'am,
but I value my freedom.

Little as it is!

Well, perhaps one day you'll meet a
man who'll change your mind?

The man does not exist!

Have you been showing Miss Hanson
the sights hereabouts?

We've visited Hendrawna...

And the holy well?

Now, that we cannot miss.

You know I don't hold with religion?

This is not religion.

- This is faith.
- And magic.

I must go.

My father will be sending out a
search for me.

Cecily? Perhaps one more sight?

Sir George still resting?

We left him undisturbed, sir, as you
instructed.

Nephew.

Where did you get that?

Oh, George, what are you doing?

How will that serve any of us?

It will serve me to be rid of that thief!

Put the pistol down, George.

Compose yourself, George.

- What have I stolen?
- George?

She was never yours to begin with.

- Never.
- George, it's me.

- I pity you...
- Nephew, it's your uncle.

- ...but there it is.
- Listen to me!

I don't want your pity! I want you
in hell!

Nephew. Just put the pistol down.

- You were always an atrocious shot!
- It's me.

OH!

Mr Ralph Hanson to see you, sir.

Uncle...

Sir George is not to leave this room.

- Uncle...
- Yes, sir.

- Did I hear a gunshot?
- What?

Ah, yes, our gamekeeper.

You'll forgive me calling unannounced.

I'm in the district on business and
wondered if we might

resume our negotiations concerning
our mutual interests in Honduras?

Oh, well, that might prove somewhat
tricky.

Sir George has been called away to
the North of England.

When does he return?

Ah, well, there's no definite day.

These things take time, as you well know.

Time is of the essence if we are to
purchase more slaves

and harvest our new territories.

Young Valentine.

Clumsy child.

Boy's getting out of hand.

I must go and reprimand him.

Allow me to show you out.

'Twas a right of way till
Sir Warleggan fenced it off.

Could we not explore?

'Twas, after all, a Poldark house.

And may be again.

But, for now, no Poldark must set
foot in it.

Come on.

Clowance!

Folk ask, "How can God love us when
He let the harvest fail?

"When mines close? When children starve?

"What more do the Lord require of us?"

Patience.

Forbearance.

Fortitude.

Rum and Gaff.

Jesus tells us, "As the Father loved
me..."

You've no gratitude.

Everyone do know Captain Poldark
employs more than he needs

and pays more than he can afford.

Yes.

But is it enough?

Perhaps once, but now?

There've never been such scarcity.

Could more be done?

I'd say so, mistress.

Unless rich folk be happy to

see girls go sell theyself
down Truro Quay.

Is that their only choice?

Reckon so, ma'am.

We ain't all lucky enough to sell
our body to our master

for the price of a wedding ring!

Mistress.

She'd no business to say that.

She's right.

I knew what I was doing when I went
to Ross's room that night.

He was an honourable man and I took
advantage, in his time of weakness.

I, too.

14 nights I nursed my master
through the fever.

On the fifteenth, he asked me to his
bed and I went willingly.

Before you were his wife?

Mama, can I read to you?

Yes, if you like.

And me, Mama! Can I?

I'm the best! I'm better than Tommy!

He can't read a single word!

Why can't he, Mama?

I expect no-one's taught him.

Why not?

Because they didn't think it mattered.

Where have you been?

Exploring.

I dislike the thought of you
roaming the countryside.

I meant the shops, Papa.

Truro is so quaint.

Well, make the most of it.

As soon has my business here
is concluded,

we shall be returning to civilisation.

What is that business, Papa?

When I deem it needful for you to
know, you will be informed.

I admire your patience.

To who?

Your rebellious housemaid.

Not only does she try to burn
the house down...

She swears she did not.

But she resolutely declines
to know her place.

Did I know my place?

When first I came?

She's as unlike you as it's
possible to be.

And yes, you did.

Except for that night,

when I came to your room.

I think if you had not, I'd have
come out and fetched you!

Lord, Ross, what an urchin I was!

I was fond of that urchin.

Imagine if she'd remained as
she was, though,

never learnt manners,

to read or write.

You could never have married her.

Because I cared if you could
scrawl your own name?

But I cared!

And, now it seems to me that
the true difference

between commons an' gentry
is simply that,

learning.

Because without it, no-one can
rise above their station.

I have an idea.

We have nigh on 50 children working
above grass at Wheal Grace.

But Captain Poldark has agreed to
give 'em Saturday afternoon off,

with pay, so they can learn
reading and writing.

Children don't need schoolin'.
They need feedin'!

The Lord say, "Man do not
live by bread alone"!

Will learnin' house or clothe a body?

Not yet.

But in the long run...

Now! Now is when we need it!
Not sometime next century!

Daughter!

How do you like our Cornish climate?

It's better than London's,
I can assure you.

Let him be.

He's not worth your attention.

I applaud your forbearance.

Well, I do not!

Such affronts should not be tolerated.

Do you think to challenge him to a duel?

I think I might challenge
the entire county.

A gathering,

to which the great and the good of
the county will be summoned.

For the purpose...?

Of broadening their narrow little minds!

I told you it would fall on deaf ears.

And yet, forgive me,

how can they appreciate
what they're missing

if they don't understand the benefits?

Why did you all learn to read?

So I could preach the gospel of our Lord.

So I'd not disgrace myself in company.

So I wouldn't be sent away to school.

So I could write letters t'
Miss Morwenna Chynoweth.

You see? You all had cause to learn.

These people have none.

Or none that they can see.

My brother Tommy's thirsty.

Could he beg a cup of milk?

Of course.

Come in.

Come in.

Please, take a piece of cake.

Thank you.

Would you like to look at this
picture book

while you eat your cake?

The evidence is there, not
prejudice or supposition,

but scientifically ratified by men
who are experts in the field.

The eminent Carl Linnaeus.
Do you know him?

Lady Whitworth brought him.

Apparently, they share some
business interests.

Divides the human species into
four distinct varieties.

At the top, naturally, is the
Europaeus Albus,

fair, white, blue-eyed,
strong-minded, rational, discerning.

Genteel, inventive, noble, pure...

And at the bottom?

Oh, your Africanus Niger,

Small of brain, broad of skull...

My dears, how delightful to see you.

...crafty, cunning...

Come and meet some of our guests.

...and incapable of
understanding anything

other than brute force and
simple instruction.

May I present our friends,
Colonel and Mrs Despard?

Lady Whitworth. Dr Penrose.

Did I hear you correctly, sir?

I am cunning, witless and
in need of a beating?

Of course, he speaks purely from
a scientific perspective.

My dear Lady Whitworth, it's so
comforting to feel superior,

is it not?

Especially when we have science
to back us up.

I can only apologise.

Caroline thought to invite all
the local worthies,

but forgive me, I should have checked...

Please, don't distress yourself.

Our paths need not cross, I'm sure
she'll be eager to avoid me.

Could it get any worse?

May I offer you a brandy?

Oh, Morwenna, I am so glad you came.

Lord, they're as fearless as you!

Am I fearless?

How else does a miner's brat rise
to be a great lady?

I'm a great lady?

It's why Tess do envy you.

- Tess? Why bring she in?
- Why, indeed!

Were it I, she'd not come within
five mile of aught I love.

But you seem blind to her malice.

Because I'd give her the benefit
of the doubt.

I hope you'll not live to regret it.

Mr Warleggan. Is Sir George with you?

He's been called away to the
north on business.

I trust he's well-armed! I hear
it's quite barbaric.

Do you know Dr Penrose? Incumbent
Head of the Cornwall Infirmary?

I believe another candidate
thrust himself forward.

But his eccentric views will
count against him.

- Views?
- On lunacy, sir.

This individual espouses methods

which go against all proven treatments.

Proven, you say?

May I speak with your Ladyship?

Would you excuse me?

Might I consult with you, sir,
on a private matter?

Lady Whitworth, would you be so kind...

...as to tell me how John Conan is?

I see no reason to account to you
for the welfare of my grandson.

Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am.

But as a mother, if ever ye felt a
mother's love, or loss...

...what harm can it do to tell her
what she longs to hear?

John Conan is a somewhat sickly child.

He has two tutors, a fencing master,
a riding instructor

and a personal physician.

He's being educated as befits
a Whitworth-Godolphin

and I'm confident he'll surpass even

the attainments of his eminent father.

Your ladyship is very kind.

May I ask...?

Does he ever speak of me?

Your name is never mentioned.

It is best for all concerned

that both parties forget
the other exists.

You may rely upon me, sir. I am
the soul of discretion.

I wonder what business he's about now.

Hunting a suitable match for you?

Let's assist him! What shall we look
for in my future husband?

Obscene wealth?

A monstrous, grand estate?

An ancient family name?

Not forgetting utter stupidity!

For then he'll not notice that
I have a brain, where he does not!

But then, how could you respect him?

I could not!

In which case, how could he expect
me to be faithful?

Lord, what a terrifying creature you are!

Does your friend not find Cornwall chilly

after the jungles of Honduras?

My friend has lived in England
for some time, sir.

I think she's used to the climate.

She should make herself at home.

I believe her stay will be
of some duration.

This is not my home, sir.

Nor my husband's. Our home is the Bay,

and we intend to return there
with all possible speed.

I find that strange.

Here, you almost pass as civilised,

whereas, there you must always be
reminded of your savage origins.

My husband, before he freed me...

...bought me from a man named O'Hara.

O'Hara...?

Your overseer?

My mother begged him to sell me.

Because she would not have
you debauch me!

I was 12.

Is it not a slave's duty
to perform as directed?

You should have been grateful
for my notice.

As you should be grateful that the
first I hear of this

is in the house of my friends,
whose hospitality I will not abuse

by spilling your guts in full
view of their guests.

Ned? Ned...

Our motto, Ned? Allow me.

Now, do you see why he's known as
Mad Ned in the Bay.

Known by whom? His colleagues?

His workers? I think not.

Nor his secretary, who's sadly no
longer with us.

But of course, you knew that.

I had no notion.

Now why do I doubt that?

Indeed, why do I think you had
a hand in his demise?

I assure you, I know nothing of such.

Well, if you do not...

...who does?

Sir, you are standing on my foot.

Oh, I do beg your pardon.

How careless of me.

Ross! What are you thinking?
Come away. What's got into you?

This man had Bannantine killed.

Let me through there's been an
accident! Accident at Wheal Plenty!

Massive rock fall in the 30 level,
blocked main shaft,

up to 20 miners missing, some
of 'em children.

If the main shaft's blocked,
what means of escape have they?

None.

Oh, dear God!

Will the Warleggans attempt a rescue?

Has word got to Sir George yet?

These will relieve the melancholic
congestion of the brain.

Blistering will draw out
the noxious humours.

Bleeding will expunge the mephitic
matter rioting in the bloodstream.

And this decoction of lachryma
papaveris will subdue

the animal spirits which have seized
the patient in their grip.

From Wheal Plenty, Sir.

Come to commiserate, have you?

My Arthur, trapped below grass.

And you come to make excuses for
the sins of thy ilk?

What ilk?

Wheal Plenty's none of ours.

Difference do it make?

What care any mine owner
'bout 'is slaves?

About my Arthur?

You should know, Jacka, since you
worked for Ross long enough,

and know he'd never ask you to do
aught he wouldn't do himself.

All mine owners should
be taught a lesson.

If they lost their mines, they'd
soon lose thy fancy living!

And what'd that solve?

Would it not bring more misery?

Don't talk to me about misery till
you've lost a son!

Oh, Arthur...

Bessie, why do we never go to the sea?

That'll be all.

Captain Poldark, Sir...

What do you intend to do
about Wheal Plenty?

Mine Captain Carter here has
assessed the damage and regrets that

any attempt to clear the main shaft
will take at least three weeks.

Too late for any survivors.

And the cost would be prohibitive.

In Sir George's absence, I have
taken the decision

to close the mine.

Permanently?

Permanently.

And the livelihoods of those
who survived?

They may thank God they're still
alive to seek employ elsewhere.

This is the main shaft.

Here, I suspect, is where the poor
souls will have fallen.

This level peters out to the south...

Where did it lead before it petered out?

Came out about here by the caves,
just off Tregunna Cove.

Could we blast inwards?

Break through to the 30 level from here?

It'd take precision.

And we can't be sure exactly how far
we'd be from the main shaft.

I have a fair idea.

And though it grieves me to say so,
it's folly to even consider it.

Well, I say to hell with it!

Who's with me?

Have you any notion of the
risks involved?

Judas, Ross, it's not even our mine!

So, the attempt must be a secret.

We've no right to interfere,
and if Warleggans get word,

they will doubtless sue us for trespass!

Meanwhile, I'm to look Morwenna and
Caroline in the face and

pretend you've all gone fishing?

- Excellent idea!
- Ross, I despair of you!

My love, if it were Jeremy trapped below,

would you not be begging me
to bring him home?

Yes. I'd be beggin' you.

Just promise me you won't let Drake
and Sam take any risks.

I intend to leave all the risk to Ned.

For a man of Sir George's stubbornness,

conventional treatments are of no effect.

A more robust approach is thus required.

Who knows these caves?

I. Nearest point to the tunnel's
through here.

Do we go after 'em?

There's no point.

Just leave it to the Colonel.

You'd like to see some books?

And perhaps a piece of cake?

Yeah?

Fuse lit!

Take cover!

Right, lads. No time to lose. Follow me.

Where's my Tommy? I want him home!

He wants to learn to read.

I've lost one son to greedy mine-owners.

I won't lose another
to high-fallutin' nonsense!

Jacka, until children are taught
their letters,

they'll have no choice but to risk
their lives down the mine!

Is that what you want for your child?

Don't tell me what's best for my child!

Something's happening at Wheal Plenty!

Come on!

Wait, wait, wait.

We must cross that first.

My boy.

Help him.

Grieve me to say it, Ross,

but we'll never reach 'em before
the roof comes down.

Let's not waste time chattering!

Clear the way!

Ned!

Ross, think of the risk...

- Stand aside.
- Think for a moment!

No.

Next time you find me dying on
the battlefield, walk on.

- Go fetch help.
- I could've managed it myself

but I had to find some way to
get you to cross!

Make haste! Are any alive?

Yes!

We'll need to find something
to bridge the gap.

I want to speak to Papa!

"Demand the mine owners take steps
to effect a rescue"?

These people!

Rescue be damned.

- They alive?
- Some of them.

It's a miracle any survived.

Arthur?

It's Jimmy Rogers.

Billy Nanfan.

Keep them props steady.

Come on, boy, we got you.

Send it back.

Bring him here. Lay him down.

- It's Robby Kernow.
- Fetch water.

You safe now, child.

Make way.

Are you in pain?

Can you tell me where it hurts?

Dead or alive?

Alive, I think.

Is it Arthur?

Is it my Arthur?

Is he dead?

Tell me. Is he dead?

He's breathing.

What happened?

Well, we might have been to Wheal Plenty,

formed a rescue party to see
if there was aught to be done.

And was there?

14 brought out alive.

And you didn't tell me you were going.

Well, would you have let me?

Have you looked outdoors lately?

This is inhuman.

As is the patient.

The lunatic, you see, has lost
all reason, which is

the essence of his humanity.

His unchained animality can only
be mastered by discipline

and brutalising.

I swear I could sleep for a week!

Where's your backbone, man?

Kitty? Demelza?

Vittles and rum?

Why not?

Look at that, a roaring fire.

Forgive me if I don't share
the general euphoria.

You mislike Ned?

Oh, on the contrary.

I admire him.

I agree with everything he stands for.

But what happened today was
an act of pure folly.

Yes, it turned out well, thanks to Ross,

but it could have ended in
utter catastrophe.

Will you say this to Ross?

He's not ready to hear it.

In America Ned was a hero,

or so I thought.

But I begin to view his brand
of recklessness

as more akin to madness.

I wish I'd known. I would've helped.

I'm glad you did not.

There was loss of life.

You think I've not seen death?

My mother nursed dying slaves.

Unbeknown to my father.

She sounds remarkable.

She was.

As is her daughter.

What is that child doing out alone?

That's my brother.

Valentine.

Geoffrey Charles?

I come to offer congratulations.

14 souls saved at Wheal Plenty.

Oh. Ah

Erm, well...

A master stroke.

And Cecily, being a sentimental
soul, will warm to Sir George

if she believes it was his idea.

Which, of course, it was!

I hope you don't mind.

We found him in the village, unattended.

- Valentine!
- Morwenna?

You must find it rather dull,
being there by yourself.

Very dull.

Well...

Jeremy, Clowance, come.

Here's two friends you can play with.

Pleased to meet you.

Pleased to meet you, too.

Good boy.

Since Miss Hanson is with you in Truro...

The moment Sir George returns,

we will move matters forward with
all possible speed.

♪ I'd hold a finger to my tongue, ♪

♪ I'd hold a finger waiting, ♪

♪ My heart is sore until it
joins in song ♪

♪ With your heart mating. ♪

Why did you do that?

I thought you were about to fall.

Would it matter?

I wonder, would you allow me
to accompany you back to Trenwith?

Er, would you excuse me a moment?

Lucy. Away!

May I ask how Sir George came
by these injuries?

They're not injuries, sir.

They are the result of prescribed
interventions for his condition.

Which is?

Call yourself an expert on
mental conditions?

Sir George is quite clearly in
the grip of animal spirits.

What other interventions has he suffered?

My nephew has been frozen, burnt,
blistered, drowned and shackled.

And you permit this?

My concern was to have my nephew's
cured as quickly as possible.

To keep his illness a secret.

Sir George is clearly suffering
from the acute distress

of losing a beloved wife.

He requires kindness and patience.

The only lunatic in this room is there.

For the sake of your nephew,
I beg you, dispense with this brute.

His methods will induce madness,
not cure it.

Come, you two. Time for bed.

Ross, the child needs to go home.

I'll take him.

- Goodnight, Papa.
- Goodnight, Papa.

I'll keep you company.

After all, Trenwith is my house.

And if George objects...

I'll come, too! I'd like to see your
monstrous, grand estate.

Well, I er...

...don't wish to keep you.

It's almost as if you're trying
to get rid of me.

The very idea...

Look who brought me home!

Home?

From where? Where have you been?

He was found wandering alone
in Sawle village.

Did no-one realise he was missing?

Do you think she would have liked me?

I think she would have found you...

Unruly? Unladylike?

A little.

But she loved me.

And would have made it her business
to love anyone I...

Admire.

Think highly of.

Does George not care about
the welfare of his son?

Sir George is away in the
North of England.

No, he isn't!

He's upstairs. I've seen him!

Good evening.

Papa.

I was not expecting...

No.

I see that.

I must congratulate you, sir, on
the daring rescue at Wheal Plenty!

Sir George has written,

offering the use of our town house
for the duration of your stay.

Well, that's very generous of him.

But Cecily and I will be travelling
to Bristol, where I have business.

Oh, must we?

Since Sir George is in such a
benevolent mood,

perhaps he'd care to fund his
stepson's first year

at the Military Academy?

Oh, er...

Since he can well afford it.

To whom should the note be made payable?

Did Ross ever tell you of James Creek?

Where he got his scar?

He never mentions it.

Ned does.

The skirmishes they fought, the
ambushes they plotted,

how they egged each other on,

how they came to think themselves
as invincible.

Do you wonder why it took me
so long to come to you?

Do you think I did not look for
a less impetuous man

to champion my husband?

But none stepped forth, so...

...I took his offer gratefully.

So, I know what it is you fear.

That apart, they can be restrained
or reasoned with.

But set 'em together, and
one of these days...

They'll bring the whole world
down upon their heads.

Consider this a loan.

Convey our gratitude to Sir George.

Geoffrey Charles!

Will you come again, brother?

Gladly.

May I visit you again?

If you like.

Is it my fault Bannantine died?

If I'd never given out those pamphlets...

My love, neither of us could have
known what we were dealing with.

But Wickham...

When he bid you report on Ned, what
matter of act did he mean?

Openly treasonable?

Or random acts, as might betray a
reckless or unbiddable nature?

Such as happened today at the mine?
And Killewarren?

That in itself could not be
construed as seditious.

But it concerns me how volatile
and impetuous Ned is.

Whereas you are the soul of restraint.

But Wickham need not know.

If you do not tell him.

He'll not hear it from me.

But from someone else he might.

Sir George has taken refuge in
a world of shadows.

He needs to learn that it is safe
to return to this one.

Do you suppose there are spies here?

I think it's wise to assume
they're everywhere.

Can a mother truly forget a son
she birthed?

She had no choice but to
give up John Conan.

My father's chosen me a husband!

Who is the fortunate soul?

I come to make an offer for Plenty.

- It's folly.
- It's worth the risk.

Is your marriage?

All they ask is common decency.

How do you answer?

With this.