This is Masterpiece.

MAN: If you are found ashore after midnight, you will be executed.

Previously, on Poldark: DEMELZA: Oh Ross, he's alive!

You must go to Caroline at once.

Put her out of her misery.

GEORGE: I, George Warleggan, do swear to act as a justice of the peace.

20 lashes.

Ross sends his brother-in-law to encroach upon our lives yet again.

ELIZABETH: Are we never to be rid of him?

Not here, but in Truro.

ELIZABETH: I'll miss Geoffrey Charles, of course, but the thought of being out of Ross's reach... Poldark, Poldark, but the thought of being out of Ross's reach... but the thought of being out of Ross's reach... but the thought of being out of Ross's reach... (shivering) (baby crying) MAN: A grain ship's in.

It's in!

A grain ship's in!

MAN: Make haste!

The Princess Charlotte was ambushed this morning at Truro quay.

Was she carrying corn?

Mm-hmm.

Then of course she was ambushed!

ROSS: What else could starving people do?

GEORGE: You have been found guilty of riot and theft, crimes for which there can be no justification.

ROSS: The grain stores have been empty for months.

Failed harvest, worst winter in 30 years.

GEORGE: To summon up a vicious mob, to seize without compunction the property of your betters-- this demonstrates a contempt for the law which cannot go unpunished.

(yell) SAM: How else are poor folks to get food in their bellies?

No doubt they paid dearly for it.

(people screaming) HENSHAWE: 20 dead.

Some shot... (screams) Others trampled underfoot in the panic.

Is the Princess Charlotte not a Warleggan ship?

She is.

Then those who survived will also pay.

I'm committing you for trial at the next assizes with a recommendation that you be sentenced to 15 years transportation.

That's not fair!

(muttering and yelling) (grunts) Move along!

(Demelza breathing heavily) (gasps) Prudie!

Run and make sure all's ready.

I don't like it, maid-- 'tain't sense.

'Tain't clever, 'tain't wise.

'Tis more than wise to avoid the faddlings of Dr. Choake!

Without Dwight, Ross won't hear of me birthing alone, but what he don't know can't hurt him!

(moans) (panting) Run!

HENSHAWE: Do George Warleggan not see the connection between failed harvests and folk rioting... ROSS: And his decision to hoard grain?

Clearly not.

I give you Wheal Leisure!

Once a Poldark mine built on Poldark land.

Begun with high hopes, and the naive aim of giving work and decent living conditions to local men and women.

Now in the hands of a man without conscience.

For whom workers are chaff and profit is God!

'Twas a noble aim, Ross-- 'twas a worthy enterprise.

I wonder if he thinks so.

What did he die of?

Starvation?

Pneumonia.

I'm told he'd been fading for weeks, but declined to stay home and rest.

He has only himself to blame.

It would appear so.

ROSS: This was a good mine before you got your hands on her, George.

My dear Ross, this was only ever an average mine.

Oh, the famous red copper?

The precious commodity which made her such a rarity?

It's finished.

Oh, there are other lodes, far less rich.

Far less profitable.

Yet I see why you're so attached to her.

You're kindred spirits.

Both full of noise, but ultimately lacking in substance.

Go on, Ross, tell me to get off your land.

Oh, wait, you can't.

Because the land we're standing on belongs to the mine.

And the mine belongs to me.

How do you sleep at night, George?

Perhaps you should ask Elizabeth.

Ross.

Shall we?

(clicking tongue) ROSS: Demelza?

Demelza!

Oh, Captain Ross, Mistress Demelza say, can 'ee fetch her up a dish of soup?

Surely that's your... (door slams) Thank you kindly, my man.

Just set it down over there.

Are you unwell?

Never better.

Can I do anything else for your ladyship?

Well, you could say good day to your daughter.

Miss Clowance Poldark.

Where was Dr. Choake?

Oh, 'twas all over afore we could send for him.

(laughing) (Valentine crying) GEORGE: Why is he so fretful?

Dr. Choake says it's willfulness.

He thinks we should put our foot down.

Martha?

See he's kept warm and quiet.

MARTHA: Yes, ma'am.

(Valentine continues crying) I'm going to Lady Randolph's for tea.

Do you dine at home this evening?

At the Trevelyans'.

And then to the Carricks' for cards.

Invitations come thick and fast.

Though not from the Godolphins.

Despite your letting young Anthony off the hook in court.

These ancient families require persistence.

But Christmas is coming.

The perfect excuse for a ball, to which the Godolphins will be invited.

But will they accept?

Drake!

You came!

What's in your basket?

Toads!

You said your aunt loved a toad.

(Geoffrey Charles laughs) I've a gift for 'ee, too, Miss Morwenna.

Winter primroses!

Where did you find them?

That's for me to know.

But if ye ever wish for more, I'll comb the Earth in search of 'em.

GEOFFREY CHARLES: Come on.

Aunt Agatha!

Drake's here!

With a surprise.

GEOFFREY CHARLES: Uncle George hates toads, and had them all cleared from our pond.

Imagine if they ever came back.

MORWENNA: Geoffrey Charles, I'm not sure your Uncle George would approve.

Of the toad?

Of our guest.

Aunt Agatha won't tell him.

Will you, Aunt?

AGATHA: Did you know Geoffrey Charles' friend is related to my nephew?

Of course you do.

For Geoffrey Charles' friend tells you a great deal.

Tell my nephew his aunt is much aggrieved at his neglect.

CAROLINE: I have a letter.

From our celebrated member of parliament, Unwin Trevaunance.

Whom you jilted.

I may have encouraged him to think he had another chance.

ROSS: In return for?

Information on a certain naval officer.

And?

According to this letter, he's brought his influence to bear at the Admiralty and they have everything in hand.

Have they?

Our people are speaking to their people, and shortly all the officers will be released.

In time for Christmas?

Or shortly after.

So Unwin has his uses after all.

(men speaking French) (men coughing and moaning) (man groaning and gasping) A letter for you, miss.

Thank you.

Oh.

Geoffrey Charles and I are to go to Truro for Christmas.

GEOFFREY CHARLES: To Uncle George's?

MORWENNA: The carriage will come for us on Saturday.

How long will 'ee be gone?

A few weeks?

Maybe more.

I'd come to bid 'ee goodbye, but I must be at the christening.

'Tis my sister's child, Clowance.

Your cousin, Master Geoffrey.

If we're away for Christmas, I must give you your present now.

Oh, there's no need.

Oh, there is.

Wait there.

I've nothing to give you.

You gave me this.

It's the most precious gift I've ever received.

You never take it off.

I never will.

(door opens) Here you are, Drake.

So you can write to me when I'm away.

Oh, thank 'ee, Master Geoffrey.

Your cheeks are flushed, Wenna.

Have you a fever?

Be that the light o' God in your eyes?

Maybe not entire, but 'tis sacred to me nonetheless.

But is she worth the risk of your mortal soul?

Reckon so!

Is that wise?

I have neglected her of late.

You swore you'd keep your distance from all things Trenwith.

Agatha is not "all things Trenwith."

She's a Poldark, and my aunt.

George has brought Leisure to its knees, and I'll be damned if he'll do the same to Agatha.

So why shouldn't she come to my daughter's christening?

(pounding at door) (door opens) (church bell ringing) Geoffrey Charles, wait!

You needn't come.

I don't think either of us should.

I'm going, Wenna.

No one needs to know.

ODGERS: We thank You, Almighty God, for the gift of water.

Over it the Holy Spirit moved in the beginning of creation.

My husband is here in spirit.

And is godfather in absentia.

In these times of dire poverty and starvation...

Remind us how You led the children of Israel out of their bondage in Egypt into the land of plenty.

How Your son Jesus received the baptism of John and was anointed by the Holy Spirit as the Messiah.

The Christ did lead us through the toils and tribulations of this Earth, from the bondage of suffering into everlasting life.

I hope you'll forgive our intrusion.

It's no intrusion.

Will you join our celebrations at Nampara?

Oh.

Well... Oh, Wenna, let's!

Don't think we can.

We're leaving for Truro.

Indeed, we're already late.

But maybe just for half an hour?

(sighs): I fear we cannot.

Much as I would like to.

(sighs) You'll spend Christmas in Truro?

More's the pity.

Uncle George is no St. Nicholas.

And poor Aunt Agatha will be left all alone.

ROSS: Indeed.

My brother is a gentle soul.

And has a kind of goodness, the like of which I've never known.

And were he of your station, I'd wish for nothing more.

But he's far beneath it.

Cannot aspire to it.

You know it.

(sighs) I know it.

'Tis well you're going away.

'Twill break the bond.

So I tell myself.

Goodbye, Morwenna.

Come, Geoffrey Charles, we're very late.

(sighs): My hat!

I left it on the seat.

MORWENNA: I'll go.

I'll come and visit.

No.

This must stop.

Can 'ee stop?

Yes.

(gasps) HENSHAWE: Cheery little thing.

DEMELZA: Sometimes.

How has she been?

Just fine.

Did ye hear about the goin's in St. Ann's?

Another corn ship raided.

Two young tackers shot.

Unwin assures me it's only a matter of time before Dr. Enys will be released.

And in the meantime, he receives the best possible treatment.

(laughs softly) Did I not order you to rest, Lieutenant Armitage?

And who will order you to rest?

If any dared, I wouldn't heed them.

Then may I watch and try to learn something useful?

You forget, I've been a prisoner of war myself.

But Dwight's a doctor.

Will he not get special privileges?

Let's hope so.

CAROLINE: I intend to open my house to all émigré nobles fleeing that wicked regime.

It's the least I can do.

She hates to feel useless.

I know the feeling.

Mama!

(laughs) You're very late.

Go up and change before the guests arrive.

Guests?

For the ball.

Oh, but...

I've ordered a new dress for you-- make haste.

ROSS: Geoffrey Charles has some spirit!

I'm impressed he disobeyed his governess.

Which reminds me.

Aunt Agatha never replied.

Per'aps she never received the note.

There's only one thing for it.

I shall go and fetch her myself!

They'll never admit you.

They'll likely shoot you!

Not if I'm with him.

ROSS: We shan't be long.

(chamber music playing) CARY: No Godolphins.

No Boscowans, no Bassets.

It's snowing.

They'll be anxious about the journey home.

CARY: Mmm, very eye-catching.

GEORGE: Always was.

No wonder Francis never let her out of his sight.

CARY: I meant the cousin.

Morwenna, I'm bored.

I wish we were at Uncle Ross's party.

MORWENNA: We should not have even been at the christening.

I'm sorry I allowed myself to be persuaded.

I'm not.

I'd like to know my cousin Clowance better.

I'd wager she's less dull than Valentine.

First thing tomorrow I'll write to Harrow.

I want that brat out of my house.

(knocking at door) Your pardon, sir.

Captain Poldark is here to visit his aunt.

A glass of Canary and a blazing fire, if you please.

Of course I never had your invitation!

Do you think I'd miss a chance to drink port and eat heavy cake?

This room is like ice.

The maids don't make me a fire.

So that's George's plan.

To kill you with cold and infection.

(blows through lips) Come and live with me at Nampara.

And lose the chance to torment him?

Nah!

I was born in this house, I'll die in this house!

If it costs me cake and a few hot coals... What must Geoffrey Charles think, seeing that gamecock strut about his home?

And Valentine?

I feel sorry for any child having that as a father.

Did Morwenna enjoy the christening?

Christening?

Oh, did she neglect to mention?

Her and Geoffrey Charles were at Sawle Church today, where the latest Poldark brat was baptized.

Clowance, I believe they named her.

Ross and Demelza have a daughter?

Let's hope they're less careless with this one.

But how could Geoffrey Charles...

He cannot be blamed.

It must be Morwenna who... She must be reprimanded.

Punished.

Oh, she will be.

Ah.

My dear Mr. Whitworth.

I was so sorry to hear of your wife's death.

How are your two little girls?

WHITWORTH: As well as can be expected, ma'am.

It's only been a week.

Only your kind invitation could have forced me to leave the house today.

Life must go on.

My very thought when I chose this waistcoat.

Huh?

(laughing) TOM: Friends of yours, then, Captain?

Caught robbin' another Warleggan grain ship!

Look pretty with their necks in a noose.

What can I say?

He's within his rights to protect Warleggan property.

Is George not aware the harvest failed?

No corn to be had anywhere?

Of course he's aware.

Which is why he imports, hoards, and sells to the highest bidder.

Riot and theft will not help these people.

So what will?

GEORGE: Say nothing of her misdemeanor.

But surely...

There may be a better solution.

She's not an ill-looking girl.

She must surely hope to be more than just a governess.

Eventually, yes, but...

When Geoffrey Charles goes to school, what does the future hold for her?

I know it would please you to have her well-matched.

And it could be advantageous to us, depending on the candidate.

A highly respected young man.

And his mother is a Godolphin.

(George clears throat) My dear, have you been introduced?

Our cousin, Miss Chynoweth.

The Reverend Osborne Whitworth.

Shall we assay the gavotte, Miss Chynoweth?

Oh.

I hope you'll excuse me, sir.

I'm not fond of dancing.

That can only be because your partners thus far have lacked expertise.

Allow a master to initiate you in the pleasures.

(chirping) ALL: ♪ God bless the master of this house ♪ ♪ The mistress also ♪ ♪ And all the little children that round the table go ♪ ♪ And all your kin and kinsmen that dwell both far and near ♪ ♪ We wish a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year.

♪ That looks good, doesn't it?

How very blessed we are.

I wonder how Dwight will keep Christmas this year.

GUARD (speaking French): (guard laughs) (man coughs) HUGH: Easy now, Williams.

Merry Christmas, sweetheart.

God's grace be with you.

Move it!

Here.

Starvation breeds desperate men.

I never knew it this bad.

'Tis like they could tear us to pieces and eat us alive.

SAM: Humanity have brought this on itself.

Have sinned and must pay the price.

What sin?

Let all examine their consciences to check they are without blemish.

DRAKE: Mine is.

On account of I don't consider love to be a sin.

DEMELZA: Oh, Ross, what can be done for these people?

ROSS: So that's my proposal.

We cannot feed all Cornwall, so we must keep this plan to ourselves.

I admit it's risky.

It requires each and every one of us to play our part and it may fall at the first hurdle.

But unless we do something...

I'm with you.

We all are.

Where do we start?

With an old friend.

TRENCROM: May an old friend speak plainly?

You're out of your mind.

(Ross laughs) That's promising.

Even if supplies were easy to come by-- which in times of war, they're not-- even if we could get 'em across the channel unscathed and land 'em unseen, with no guarantee of a delivery date, the cost would be...

Prohibitive?

I realize that.

But money will be found.

Are 'ee sure?

You have my word.

(men coughing and moaning) WILLIAMS: Enys?

I'm here, Williams.

What is it, my friend?

Water, please.

Water.

(man grunts) ROSS: This will do very well.

SAM: Yet it sit not easy with I that a house of God be used as a cache.

Nevertheless, it will be so used.

It's the last place anyone will look.

I like not your way of doin', brother.

Get used to it, brother.

CAROLINE: What would Dwight make of us now?

Do we look the part?

Of highwaymen?

Is it not our mission to part as many men from their guineas as possible?

(laughs) Good day to you, sir!

A fine morning to address the business of matrimony.

GEORGE: As to the matter of a settlement for Miss Chynoweth, I've been thinking of 2,000 pounds.

Ah... My dear sir, you'll pardon me, but a man in my position must look the part, dress the part, carry himself in such a way as to inspire awe.

Must he?

Besides which, with debts of over 1,000 pounds, I could not in all countenance accept a penny less than... 6,000?

Guineas.

Put simply, Sir John, our mission is this: to raise enough funds to help the poor hereabouts survive the worst winter in livin' memory.

My mother is a Godolphin.

And Morwenna is a Chynoweth.

One of the oldest families in the county.

Daughter of a dean.

Devout, healthy, particularly fond of motherless children.

But if you feel there is another pretty young lady with 2,000 pounds willing to yoke herself to a penniless clergyman, you are, of course, at liberty to seek her out.

CAROLINE: Our own households have begun by pledging 50 guineas apiece.

I've also made a large donation in my late uncle's name.

And we do feel sure you'll not be wantin' in your own generosity.

Far be it from we, Sir Philip, to tell a body how much he should pledge, but perhaps we could mention that Sir John has just offered 20 guineas.

Hm.

My dear, you do him wrong.

I believe he offered 25.

WHITWORTH: I could be prevailed upon to accept 4,000 pounds.

In times of economic hardship, it would be irresponsible of us to increase the offer beyond 2,000 pounds.

As I was saying to Miss Penvenen, you'll not find a kindlier man than Sir Hugh.

He is generosity itself.

It would be impossible to exist on so paltry a sum.

Doubtless God will then guide your steps towards some amiable young heiress.

(chair moving back) CAROLINE: Shall I put you down for 30 guineas?

(panting) WHITWORTH: Taking into consideration the many blessings I would gain in the actual personage of Miss Chynoweth, I believe I'd be willing to accept 3,500 pounds.

Good God, man, do you imagine I have money to burn?

GEORGE: Finally, a deal.

To be related to the Godolphins, I was willing to go higher, but the idiot settled for 3,000 pounds.

(chuckles) Now all that remains is for you to inform the bride.

Oh, but surely, as you are the one who has made all the arrangements...

I would not for the world deprive you of this happy task, my dear.

May I help you?

ELIZABETH: Morwenna?

Marry?

Mr. Whitworth?

ELIZABETH: Well, I need hardly enumerate the advantages of the match.

(sighs) The excellent prospects of the groom.

Your immediate transformation from governess to lady of the town.

The help it will be to your widowed mother and younger sisters.

Mr. Warleggan's generosity in providing the settlement.

Do our kind thoughts displease you?

Does Mr. Whitworth's love mean nothing at all?

I do not know Mr. Whitworth.

We have barely exchanged three sentences.

He knows enough to wish to make you his wife.

As I told your mother... You've written to her?

Emphasizing the excellence of the match, the goodness and piety of the groom.

I'm sure she'll be delighted.

She would be if she thought I loved him.

But I do not.

I think, though your mother would wish you to be happy, she'd be dismayed to think of you finding fault with a match because of some false, romantic notion of what marriage should be.

Is it wrong to hope for love in a marriage?

When you wed Francis, did you not marry for love?

I married for what I thought was love.

The illusion lasted barely a year.

My marriage to Mr. Warleggan was not founded on romance, yet it is altogether more successful.

From Caroline Penvenen.

Begging 30 guineas to help the poor.

You lately spent 3,000 on a dowry.

Will another 30 bankrupt you?

I daresay she expects a refusal.

Then I shall disappoint her.

CAROLINE: From George Warleggan... 50 guineas.

(Valentine fussing quietly) (grunts) (Valentine calls) Can you believe they're at this again?

(door closes) I seen Mr. Ross and the others just now, headin' for the cove.

Right, let's away.

ROSS: There she is.

(women talking) (whispering): Fall back.

(talking continues) WOMAN: Christopher, quickly!

ROSS (sighs): All's well.

CONGREGATION: ♪ The meek and lowly heart ♪ ♪ That in our Savior was ♪ ♪ To us that Spirit doth impart ♪ ROSS: Are we close?

Surely, Captain Ross.

Then let's get gone.

Make haste!

Be gone!

(hooves clipping) CONGREGATION: ♪ How can we sinners know ♪ ♪ Our sin's on Earth forgiv'n?

♪ ROSS: We're not far now.

♪ And feel His blood applied.

♪ All right, put out the candles and wait in silence.

If any be watchin', let's hope we've thrown them off the scent.

(Tom urging horse) Come on!

Come on!

(door opens) They're comin'.

And no one the wiser?

So far, so good.

GEORGE: You're certain it was he?

He's most certain the ringleader.

There's no mistakin' the goods.

TOM: I suspicion I knows where they be headin'.

Did I not bid you stay at home?

Yes, Ross, as oft I bid you, and see how well you hear me.

TOM: What'll 'ee do?

Get a good night's sleep.

And awaken refreshed.

As resident magistrate, I must have my wits about me when I send them all to Botany Bay.

(clears throat) All right.

(door opens and closes) TOM: So the gaugers and the military be on their way to the meetin' house.

Do 'ee wish to be there at the moment of the arrest?

Oh, I think so.

Why should I miss all the fun?

Ah, Morwenna, you received my message?

I've invited Mr. Whitworth so that you may see for yourself what an amiable man he is.

(people calling) MAN: Come on now!

Hurry!

TOM: Folks do love a spectacle.

And no more pleasin' than a fancy gent bein' led away to jail.

(clicks tongue): Come on.

WHITWORTH: Had my partner Willie Hick not led the king of spades on the second round, I'd scarce have know where to look, but thereafter, by drawing trumps, we made 12 tricks between us, and I myself cleared 18 pounds on the evening!

(laughs) Do you play whist?

Not at all.

Huh.

May I say, Miss Chynoweth, that I detect the hand of God in all this?

Guiding me to the Warleggan ball, urging me to wear the lemon silk so you could not fail to notice me?

I felt at once that you'd been sent to console me, to be a new mother to my two young daughters, to...

Comfort me as only a wife can.

And now I know that my sentiments are returned...

I'm not at all sure they are returned.

Your hesitancy does you credit.

All decent women approach matrimony with a degree of shyness.

But as a man of feeling and a man of God, I assure you my love will be returned.

Mmm.

I pray you excuse me, sir.

I cannot.

(door opens) Did she refuse you?

Oh, I'm not disheartened.

Naturally, she'll come around.

In the meantime, let us proceed with arrangements as planned.

ROSS: I regret you've been sent on a fool's errand, Captain.

Thank you very much, sir.

No problem.

Very good.

Men.

CONGREGATION: ♪ And labor on at Thy command ♪ ♪ And offer all my works to Thee.

♪ ♪ Give me to bear Thy easy yoke.

♪ MAN: You're too kind.

DEMELZA: Good day to 'ee, sir.

See the fruits of your generosity?

Have you come to make further donation?

Donation?

CAROLINE: Yes, sir.

See what your kind contribution has purchased.

DEMELZA: Grain, a whole shipful.

Now being sold at half the market price to those most needy in the district.

Shall I put you down for 70 guineas next time?

There will be no next time.

'Tis not my custom to contribute to the welfare of wastrels who are too idle to earn their own bread.

ROSS: In which case, may I ask what your business is here?

Lest you're unaware, this is Nampara land.

And it appears you're trespassing.

As a magistrate, no doubt you're aware of the penalty for such a crime?

I advise you remove yourselves or I'll call back the soldiers you sent and have you both arrested.

(clicks tongue) Bye!

GEORGE: It was deliberate!

An elaborate subterfuge designed to trick me.

Or possibly with a view to preserving calm and averting a riot.

It was done so that I would believe he was breaking the law and would look a fool when I attempted to bring him to heel!

Well, he's overplayed his hand this time.

HUGH: How's Williams?

DWIGHT: He's... improving.

HUGH: I'll sit with him awhile.

No, I must keep him under observation, as I promised.

Did I not vow to learn some of your skills?

If only to give you one hour's rest in 20.

I can manage.

You saved my life.

We need you alive so you can save others.

With no fresh water?

No medicine, no pain relief?

GUARD: Alors, amis, faites vos paris!

(guards speaking quietly) (laughing) They're taking bets.

On what?

Which prisoner will be next to die.

Can I have a word?

George Warleggan's to close Wheal Leisure.

With immediate effect.

DEMELZA: But why?

It do mean the loss of more than 70 jobs.

More hardship for 70 families already struggling.

DEMELZA: But the mine's still in profit.

Why would he close her now?

Because he can.

Because the profits are small.

Keeping her open puts her in competition with other Warleggan mines.

Because she belonged to Ross.

Closin' her will hurt him.

DEMELZA: So to spite Ross, George would send 70 families into direst poverty?

'Tis about the size of it.

I'm to be sent back to Trenwith?

Along with Geoffrey Charles.

Now pack your things at once.

(crying, then giggling softly) GEORGE: Of course she weeps.

To be forced to return to the tedium of Trenwith after the happy bustle of Truro.

She'll soon see the error of her ways and be begging us to name a date for her wedding.

(laughing softly) DEMELZA: I'd say we did what we set out to do.

Five villages will now survive the winter.

Yes.

But at a price we hadn't counted on.

The closing of Wheal Leisure can only have been triggered by our grain venture.

So we've helped some and ruined others.

70 families.

What can we do for them?

CAROLINE: Ross, Demelza.

I came to tell you that I'm leaving for London.

Have you had word of Dwight?

From Unwin.

He assures me that all is well and I have no cause for concern.

What will you do?

Go to the Admiralty.

See if we can negotiate a ransom.

I wish you luck.

We'll bring him home.

Somehow.

The Admiralty doesn't deal in ransoms.

(man coughing) WILLIAMS: Bless you, Enys.

I think you'll live, Williams.

And those barbarians wagered he'd be next to die.

Not if I can help it.

(footsteps approaching) Ah, il sera sorti!

WILLIAMS: No, please!

(gun fires) J'ai gagné le pari.

(cackles) HUGH: Dear God.

(crying) (sobbing) I have an idea.

ROSS: It's a delicate balance.

We're already overmanned.

If we take on more men to take out more ore, we flood the market.

And the price drops.

The ore runs out more quickly.

But here, and here, and here...

There have been indications of possible new lodes.

Which may or may not come to anything.

And which we've so far opted not to explore.

With an extra 30 men, we could explore.

(laughs) 30 extra men?

Each on a wage?

Which I could pay.

If I opted to plow my profits back into the mine, instead of taking a dividend.

But now, Ross?

With the future so uncertain, a war with France?

Yeah, and a wife and two children to support?

My wife is in agreement with me.

(talking softly) Well done.

(grunting) DEMELZA: ♪ I will sing you 12, oh.

♪ DRAKE: ♪ What is your 12, oh?

♪ ♪ 12 are the 12 Apostles.

♪ ♪ 11 are the 11 will go to Heaven.

♪ DEMELZA: ♪ Ten are the Ten Commandments.

♪ ♪ Nine is a moon shine bright and clear.

♪ Oh, need a hand, do 'ee, sirs?

GEOFFREY CHARLES: Drake!

We're back!

Miss Morwenna.

(grunting) (gasps) I think we should let Mr. Carne continue on his way.

(grunts): Go!

GEOFFREY CHARLES: Bye, Drake.

Come and visit us soon!

Thanks for thy help, brother.

They're back.

GEORGE: And how long will Morwenna require?

ELIZABETH: A few weeks, at least.

I must confess, I'm not overly enamored of him.

There's something about him that makes my skin crawl.

The man is a reptile and a prig.

He is also a Godolphin.

Morwenna does not realize how lucky she is.

But she will realize.

WHITWORTH: Gold brocade.

And breeches close-fitting.

To inspire, in a bride, both awe and anticipation.

(yelps) Next time, on Masterpiece... DEMELZA: What will you do?

Free Dwight and bring him home?

A prison break.

(grunts) On French soil.

With respectable men, who are surely being led to their deaths.

ROSS: Load your weapons, we'll make a stand.

(gunfire) He's hit!

Poldark, next time on Masterpiece.

♪ ♪ Go to our website, listen to our podcast, watch video, and more.

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