All language subtitles for Poldark.S03E08.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+5.1.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

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

She willhave a headstone.

She was the last
of the Trenwith Poldarks.

Barring Geoffrey Charles.

What is my offense, 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.That'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.

Warleggans cut wages
at three o' their mines.

Again?

Twelve mile these've walked
on the off-chance o' 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 armor of God,
that ye may be able

to withstand the wiles
of the devil!

For strait is the gate,

and narrow is the way,

which leads to virtue
and purity of heart.

My dear,
what an age it's been!

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 does she
complain of now?

Of nothing, sir.

She merely answered my question

about the nature
of your marital relations.

What?

She'd 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
and 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?

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 pounds 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 pounds 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,

emphasizing
my Godolphin credentials

and connection
to Lord Falmouth.

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 favor.

Hm?

Oh, um...

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!

He's charming.

Like his mistress.

Although when he first came,
he was wholly uncouth.

Like his mistress?

You'll stay to dinner?

I'm expected
at the Teagues'.

Mrs. Teague
has four unmarried daughters.

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.

He lives in a dream.

Armitage.

You know his sight
is failing?

A 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 'ee had any sense, maid,

'ee'd be roughling and tumbling
about the meadow

with that pretty boy!

Oh, Prudie!

Well, makes the blood boil,

to hear Mr. Ross talking like
there's none to compare with he.

Perhaps there ain't.

Never know till ye try.

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 I'm right?

Do I look the marrying kind?

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

when she have men
dangling on a string.

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

Choose wisely and it needn't be.

Hm.

Can 'ee 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, you'll be wishingto 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 favors 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.

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 favorsfrom me.

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

Good day.

Garrick, get down!

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.

DWIGHT:And the voting
begins at 2:00.

Shall we go together?

DEMELZA: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.

That contract I obtained
for you last month,

it may have to be canceled.

Mr. Noye?

Your purchase of land
at St. Clement.

It may now not go through.

Disgraceful.

Quite so.

Yet the alternative...

I sympathize.

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 labors
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.

Uh.

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 pounds
I lent you,

it may have to be repaid.

Vicar?

Forgive me.

Dr. Enys thought
you should know.

You have a son.

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 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?

Next week.

I shall take a house
in London.

Then we'll no longer
be neighbors.

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

or a Member of Parliament.

My apologies, sir.

My regards to Westminster.

To Mr. Warleggan!

Our new Member of Parliament.

EMMA:Ah, but then
what d'that make thee?

Not to be crossed...

An' useful t'know!

Think on that, maid!

Parson Carne!

Have you been here
all this time?

Why would 'ee not come and have
a drink with us?

The Lord hath forbid it.

What do 'ee hope to gain
from stalking me?

A soul for God.

And naught for thyself?

Walk me home,

and mind 'ee 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?

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
favors 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.

GEORGE:You have my list
of instructions?

Yes, sir.

Or, only...

regarding Mrs. Warleggan...

Yes?

What part of my orders
is unclear?

You will watch her.

Where she goes,

who she meets.

PRUDIE: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!

An' are you content?

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 'ee want, Sam?

To bring 'ee to God.

I don't believe 'ee.

I suspicion what 'ee wants...

is me.

If I want you, 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.

You're askin' I...
to wed 'ee?

I am.

I've rolled in the hay fields
with many a man.

I've drunk, and cavorted,
and cussed...

And I've prayed for 'ee.

'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 will 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.

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.

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.

'T'would 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 it vexes him
every time he sees you.

He cannot still be jealous
of our former attachment?

Whatever was between us

is long passed.

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?

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 are 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 like
another eight-month child.

I must go.

Yes.

Goodbye, Ross.

I'd sooner make a wheel

than learn stupid
Latin declensions.

'Taint 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.

DEMELZA: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.

Fifteen 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.

DEMELZA: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 favor

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 does not 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.

Why, 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 labor 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 idolize 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 favors

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 well-being.

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... err...

I think you would.

Should you like me
to sit on your lap?

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.