Original subtitles

Easy.

Blood.

- Fresh. - Yeah. Too fresh for my liking.

- And there's more of it there. - Look around.

- Hey, Captain! - What is it?

And there's blood on it.

l think l know whose blood it was.

Tholly, we need an Indian scout.

You've got one, Captain.

- That's all of 'em. - You're sure?

- There's no more on the boat. - Then it's time we moved out.

- Clear the boat. - Wait there, Drake.

Come down, get him down.

Pull! Pull!

- How is he? - Nasty flush in his cheeks.

l don't like it.

You're not pulling! You'll get this!

Pull!

- No necrosis yet. - You think it imminent?

The ball may have carried some clothing into the wound.

- How can l tell without instruments? - God save we don't lose another.

lf the wound goes putrid...he's done for.

How much further till we reach the sea?

Two miles. And your ship?

There were French guard ships.

lf one became suspicious, Trencrom would've gone.

Then either we'll get recaptured by a Frenchman

or we'll drift out into the Atlantic.

The men are exhausted.

Hey. Hey!

A ship's lantern, not more than a mile off.

ls it a Frenchman?

Tell the truth, Cap'n... l don't care much.

- Morning. - All right?

Ross?

Ross!

We brought him back for you.

l haven't stopped since l got your message.

- Where is he? - Sit down, Caroline.

Oh, Ross, don't make me wait any longer!

Do what l say, sit down. And, er...drink this.

- l don't want a drink. - Yes, you do and so do l.

Sit down.

Trencrom's brandy.

We'd all about given up hope before he found us.

We'd been two days on that small boat.

Dwight's wounded, isn't he?

No, he's not.

But he is angry with me for having sent for you.

He's been through hell, Caroline.

He's been starved,

he's worked 24 hours a day keeping men alive.

His heart and his conscience are still in Fort Baton.

What are you trying to tell me?

You know we lost Joe Nanfan? And Drake is fighting for his life.

God knows how it'll go. At least it's keeping Dwight busy.

But if the boy dies, Dwight may very well go with him, mentally if not physically.

What should l do?

You've helped him before, help him now.

Make no personal demands.

Give him time, Caroline.

How is it?

Still clean.

But the fever is worse.

l don't understand it.

The wound keeps weeping.

Maybe l am changing the dressing too often but...

if suppuration is allowed to congeal...

lt's so hot down here.

- We could move him. - No.

No, if we move him, we wake him. He must be kept still.

Caroline's here.

You're going to have to see her sometime.

Not now.

Not like this.

How do you know now isn't the best time?

l'm not the same man who went away.

l'm not the same woman who saw you go.

l made promises, l...

They were two other people, Dwight.

Perhaps they're still there, somewhere.

Perhaps not.

They need time.

To meet again...

to fall in love again.

lt may happen.

l want you to know...

l shall not blame you if it doesn't happen again.

Dwight?

Oh, Dwight!

- Miss Poldark... - Hold your tongue, woman.

- Now... - May l go now, Miss Poldark?

You know exactly what l want?

- Six yards black Flemish lace. - The best, mind you.

l have all the measurements for your gown and you want a new cap.

And a fitting in 14 days from now.

l'll have no shilly-shallying, l want all ready for my party.

Miss Poldark, l have a distinguished clientele and am not accustomed...

Don't come high and mighty with me, Mrs Trelask.

You may be a fine dressmaker now

but l mind you when you came out mending stockings

for a penny or two.

Will you send the wig-maker to me?

One of my young ladies shall call on him.

Oh! ''One of my young ladies shall call on him.''

And will you do me the kindness

to deliver this on your way home, Mrs Trelask?

lt's a little out of my way.

You may put it on your bill.

l daresay you will anyway - and more!

Ah, Mrs Trelask, have you hit upon something pretty?

- See my sketch, Mrs Warleggan. - Oh, yes!

See the pelisse falling to the waist?

And the two white roses - don't you forget 'em.

Er, l do not forget, Miss Poldark.

And now l have other calls.

Lady Pentire is expecting me.

Well, good day to you. l shall deliver your letter en route.

A very good day, Mrs Warleggan.

Hah! Tradespeople.

A miner's wife has more courtesy.

Oh, Elizabeth, l'm so excited.

l shall have such a birthday. Such a birthday!

Have you ordered my new choker?

- l have. - And my silver shoe buckles?

Yes, Aunt, l really have. And your topaz ring is being mended.

Oh, l shall look beautiful, girl!

Beautiful! Like a bride.

And now to have this wonde_ul news about Ross.

Ross?

The servants are full of it. It must be all over the county.

He's in Falmouth - he's back from France.

He plucked this young man out of a French jail

and fought his way through all those Frenchies

and sailed right home.

Now, ain't that just like Ross?

So he'll be able to come now to my birthday party.

We must think about George.

George?! Oh, fiddle-faddle George!

l'll say no more cos you're married to the man

but l've just sent Trelask with a letter to await Ross at Nampara.

''Welcome home, Ross,'' it says. ''Welcome home, dear boy!

''And you must come and tell me everything and kiss me at my party.''

At my party.

So, l can go back with good news for Demelza?

l'm feeling a lot better, sir.

At 19 if a man doesn't die, he quickly recovers.

- Dr Enys says three days. - Dr Enys says a week or two.

We'll have you ashore before then.

Whatever you do say, sir, but l shall keep my word.

- Your word? - To go away.

- Drake, l've got something to tell you. - Sir?

George Warleggan said there was to be no marriage

between Miss Chynoweth and Osborne Whitworth.

Keep still or your wound will open!

Are you sure she's not to be wed, sir?

George told me. And don't call me sir, my name is Ross.

l'll call you Ross when l'm 21, Cap'n Poldark.

- Where is she now? - At Penrice, l imagine.

- l don't hope for anything... - Why not?!

- Why not, sir? - You two boys are my kin.

Damn it, any kinsman of mine can marry any girl.

- You mean...? - l shall do all l can for you and her.

Me and Morwenna, m-marry?

First we must get her away from Warleggan's house.

Wah-hey, Demelza!

Oh, l never thought l'd see ee again!

Never thought she'd see ee again!

l never been so happy.

She's right, Cap'n, l've never seen her so happy.

Back in your own house with your own head.

Stupid woman, he wouldn't be here with any other 'ead!

- You do know what l do mean. - l know what you mean, Prudie.

- Where are the children? - l'll send for 'em.

- If l'd known you were... - No matter, send for them.

Will...W-Will l get

some of that there brandy wine from the cellar, eh?

- 'Tis the time for a drink now. - Are you ever going to send?

Yes to everything - the children and the brandy.

l'm back again, Prudie, with my own head.

- And it's the happiest day of the year. - You should have sent us warning.

- Why? - Oh!

Oh, l never been so happy! l can scarce believe my eyes!

Would...would you like the brandy first or the children?

- Er, brandy. - Ahh!

- And you, too, Prudie. - Oh! Yes.

Oh, dear God!

This came for ee, sir. A letter.

l was bringing it in for the missus.

- Thank you, Jud. - Come on, you old fool!

- From Penrice. - Oh?

An invitation for the 10th of August.

Aunt Agatha. A party for her 100th birthday.

Are we invited to Penrice?

- This is signed by her only. - What's that mean?

lt means she got this out without them knowing.

Oh, my darling.

l can't tell you what it means to be home again.

- And Drake? - He was wounded.

Wounded? How?

Sit down. l've a lot to tell you.

George.

l want to tell you about Aunt Agatha's party.

One would think Ross Poldark had won the war for us.

They're bound to make a fuss over a Cornishman. Aunt...

Since his escapade, an invasion of France has been defeated.

That is clear in spite of the half-truths.

The only course now is to go on with this war.

Dear bread and empty bellies.

That is more important than Poldark's antics

so must you talk of Agatha Poldark's party?

She's written to remind Ross she expects him to come.

- l should have been informed. - l didn't know until now.

By the servants. How dare they carry a letter without informing me?

l'll have no more intrigues like Morwenna's.

- She sent it by the dressmaker. - By premeditated deception.

l think not. l just did not want you to be taken by surprise.

Nothing surprises me from that old hag.

l wondered if we might look the other way, reconcile ourselves...

To Ross Poldark entering as a welcome guest?

lt'll only be for a few hours.

But a short while ago he stood there and declared war on me.

He called it a declaration of war.

Was it not rather a kind of appeal?

lt is something l shall never forgive.

He shall not set foot in this house.

But the old lady will have her way.

Perhaps she will not. Now, excuse me. l have work to do.

lf Drake hadn't pulled me down, it would've been me lying on that ship.

- And he knew what he was doing? - He knew.

lt was as though he wanted to end his life.

- He wanted it to be him instead of me. - Oh, Ross.

Oh, why did Joe Nanfan have to die?

As soon as l've seen the children l must see his father.

Oh, Ross. Don't torture yourself.

You saved two men - Dwight and that Lieutenant Armitage.

Joe Nanfan knew the risks he was taking, everybody did.

- l need you. - Oh...

Children'll be here soon.

Demelza, can you think of any reason why,

if we set him up in a respectable position,

say in two or three years,

why Drake should not marry Morwenna Chynoweth?

- Ross! - What have l said?

- Darling, you don't know. - What?

Last week in Sawle church,

Morwenna Chynoweth married the Reverend Osborne Whitworth.

Don't tell me any more! l don't want to hear any more!

l knew it were too good to be true.

- l reckon l'll go outside for a bit. - Drake.

l went through the same thing - there's no hell worse.

- Can l go now? - No, listen.

You don't want to but it may help later.

l loved a woman to such excess it drove me out of my mind.

- Excuse me. - l said wait!

l didn't get her.

And after... l fell in love with your sister.

- Good thing for you. - The best. It was meant to be.

- l know nothing about that. - Who does?

- You've yet to find why you survived. - l'm not thankful l did.

- Nonsense. - l've nothing to do with my life now.

Some can be happy in God, l can't.

Come home. Talk things over with Demelza.

- l'll not go back there. - It helps to talk. Time helps.

l don't want to see those woods!

You're talking like a coward. Stop pitying yourself. Act like a man.

You knows well l can act like a man!

l'm not under your command any more, Cap'n Poldark.

Vomiting, diarrhoea,

excessive sweating.

The maid can't keep her blanket on, she's up all night with him.

A morbid tenderness of the bones,

wrists swollen...ankles swollen.

ls it serious?

lt's a common enough ailment amongst children - rickets.

Rickets? My child? l can't believe it.

Perhaps a second opinion, at your discretion.

lf you wish. But the diagnosis is beyond doubt.

My son? You mean he may grow up handicapped? Not pe_ect?

lt will be my aim to minimise the deformation.

- Deformation! - This ailment is rife among the poor.

My boy has had the best of everything.

Rich and poor alike. The disease respects no social position.

What is to be done? Spare no expense. Retain whatever assistance you desire.

l shall need none.

l shall call daily at six in the evening.

l shall open a vein in both ears between the junctures.

l shall mix the blood obtained with twice the amount of aqua vitae

and rub this into the child's body.

To the affected bones,

l shall apply a green ointment of my own preparation

which must be applied as hot as may be endured.

- Oh, no! - It must be done.

The child must at no time be taken out of his bed

and there must be no change of garments.

But he soils them almost hourly.

- l must be obeyed in this. - You shall be, Doctor.

When ready, l shall apply splints - bound tight -

to both arms and both legs.

Doctor, l pray that this torture will serve.

lt must. Doctor, we are talking of my son.

My heir. He must not be deformed.

Let him suffer now but make him pe_ect.

Hold it still, girl.

No, higher. Oh, Lucy Pipe, what's the matter with you?

lt's the baby.

Have you never heard a baby with the wind?

- It do go on and on. - Maybe he's ailing.

No one tells me.

They told me nothing about Morwenna till she went.

Hm. What shall l wear? This...or this one?

Never mind the child, he's crying himself to sleep.

- Well? - The second one's lovely, ma'am.

You're quite right.

And l've not worn it for years.

l shall wear it to my party.

There, l said he'd tire himself out.

Where's his mother? Did ee tell her l wanted to see her?

lf Polly give her the message.

l weren't let into the sick room.

Well, go down again. Go on, be sharp.

Three times that'll make.

- You wanted me, Aunt? What is it? - Oh. Come in, then.

l can't hear you well from there.

l am very busy.

What ails the child? He gives me no peace.

l'm sorry but he's not well. l have no time for conversation.

lt be nothing serious?

No. But l...

Well, l just wanted to know...

- l have told you! - Oh, Elizabeth.

Go outside, girl.

Elizabeth, if it were nothing, you wouldn't talk to me like that, not you.

l made out to the maid it was nothing

but the child has been screaming dreadful.

You must tell me.

He has rickets.

Dr Behenna has been. The treatment makes him scream.

Aye, the rickets.

So l were right. l said he had a bad inheritance.

l cannot discuss your prophecies.

Oh, wait. It is bad when they come with the leeches,

with their swaddling and binding and choking.

l've seen many a child die that might have lived.

- It is my party so... - l have no time for your party now.

l want to tell you about my party...

Oh! Dress up in your jewels and leave me alone.

To tell you that it cannot be!

lf so be when August the 10th comes near

your little one is still bad,

then l must do without my party.

We can have no drinking, Iaughing and chattering at such a time.

Go.

Whatever did you want to say that for?

l said what l had to say.

And God forgive me, it was not from the heart.

When you're my age,

your own life seems more precious than a babe's.

l want my party.

l...l want my party.

l want my party.

My dear Whitworth. Morwenna. This is a pleasure.

Whitworth, how is it to be a married man once more?

- It was timely, sir. - You have no reason for regret?

l do not regret it.

And Morwenna, you find marriage to your liking?

l trust you are all well?

My son's condition gives us cause for concern.

We didn't call at an awkward time?

- In fact... - Possibly so. But life must go on.

l am much grieved.

Well, to lose a little one is to give a soul to heaven.

But we shall pray for his recovery.

You are always welcome here but it's so soon after the marriage.

lndeed. l would have waited until Miss Poldark's party.

- That may not now take place. - Oh?

The child. l shall not hesitate to cancel it at the last moment

if the boy's condition necessitates it.

Of course. Not knowing of this illness

l would not have wished to come to a party with business matters.

- Business matters? - Not pressing but requiring discussion.

Come. l imagine the ladies will take tea in their own good time.

How are you, Morwenna?

Well.

Do you not now think you did the right thing?

l did not see Miss Agatha before l left, may l go to her now?

Of course.

George, l'm going up to Valentine.

Now...

lt concerns the repairs to the vicarage, sir.

- Ah, yes. - You may recall...

We dealt with it in the marriage settlement. The sum was...

f250, sir. That was the estimated cost of repairs.

Not an estimate, an agreed sum.

As l look at the settlement, l say it was an estimate.

And now the dilapidations appear to involve a far greater sum.

How unfortunate.

lt would be most imprudent to spend the capital you so kindly settled upon us.

l cannot accept any further responsibility.

lf l did, it might go on indefinitely.

Heavens, sir! What do you take me for?

My dear mother is bringing a cousin to stay with us shortly.

- Indeed? - Sir George Fenton.

- A great man in the county. - The same, sir.

Since we are now related,

l will entrust with you a family secret.

He is much embarrassed - gambling debts.

ls he?

And might be persuaded to sell some of his acres cheaply.

- Would you care to meet him? - If we are free at the time.

Splendid. Then you can see the dry rot for yourself

and we could agree upon a figure.

Come, you deserve another drink.

Poor Elizabeth.

And all she can do to get the baby to sleep

is to give it some laudanum.

Well?

Well, girl? You haven't got much to say, have you?

Tell me about yourself.

No, it's you we're talking about.

And it's, ''Yes. No. Not too badly.''

What kind of answer is that?

l have nothing of interest to tell.

Nothing? A girl just wed?

Are you pleased with yourself?

ls the man to your liking?

You got tired of being Miss Nobody, living on charity.

You wanted to be the parson's wife with a carriage.

Was that it? Eh?

Well, is it worth it?

Girl...why did you do it?

Why did you wed that man?

l saw the boy.

- The boy? - Yes.

lt was young Drake Carne, wasn't it?

l saw him once from my window - a fine lad.

Not of your class...

but you'd no need to take the other.

Drake went away. They said he wouldn't come back.

At first, cousin George said the marriage would not take place

but he never wrote to Mr Whitworth as he said.

He said he and Elizabeth had talked it over.

They now believed l had done nothing wrong.

They would not wreck my future for an infatuation that was best forgotten.

They said l was too young to know my own mind,

to be grateful to George for setting Drake free,

- did you know about that? - Aye, servants talk.

l was grateful but l was frightened as well.

l felt l had brought that trouble upon Drake

and they'd do something worse to him if l did not forget him.

But you've not put him out of your mind.

l have married Osborne Whitworth.

l accept my lot.

You should not have wed.

What else could l do?

lt was all so quick, they were all at me.

My mind was in a whirl.

And my poor mother came,

she begged me on the memory of my father's grave.

They rushed it through in three days.

'Twas wicked! Wicked.

Shh. There, there, my love.

Mama's going to make it all better.

Mama's going to make it all better.

- l heard you come in. - Where's the child?

Just a minute. Get rid of those sheets.

Scrub out the cot and make it up with fresh linen.

Open all the windows, l want fresh air in here.

Yes, ma'am.

- George, come. - Where is the child?

- You will see. - But this! How dare you?

Come and see Valentine.

But you must not wake him.

We can talk downstairs.

l am stunned. l cannot believe this.

- What if he wakes up? - We'll be called when he does.

- l cannot believe it. - Believe your eyes.

You have just seen him asleep and not drugged.

This is the first time we have not drugged him into silence.

- Do you know what you've done? - l have bathed him,

put him in a clean gown and made him comfortable in our bed.

- You've undone Behenna's work. - He was being tortured!

- For his own good. - To death!

You challenge the knowledge of a medical man?

Because l am his mother!

You've been stampeded by fear, by womanish instincts.

Yes, George, instincts. To a woman they are knowledge.

- l shall send for Behenna. - No.

- This is my child. - Our child.

You don't know what he means to me.

You cannot love him more than l do.

He had to suffer so that he should not grow up

to take my place with twisted limbs.

George, are you thinking of him or yourself?

l shall send for Behenna.

That man will not touch our child again.

Before all the servants,

you will have to tear me away from that door before he passes.

l do not...

l do not know you.

Perhaps it is only such a moment that reveals us to each other.

l-l do not know what to do.

Let him sleep.

Give him a day. Then we can see what to do.

Very well.

l shall wait for 24 hours only.

Bravo!

Dwight, are you all right? l'm sorry.

- It's nothing. - Some Madeira?

Thank you.

l'm very pleased with myself.

After all, l travelled from Falmouth to Kilwarren,

came visiting here, l'm eating well.

Yesterday l rode a horse.

- Yes. - Thank you.

He rode one of my eldest mares.

l held Dwight and a groom held the reins.

- But l kept my seat. - Yes.

And my taste for good wine has returned.

That's the main thing. Will it be a big wedding or a quiet one?

- A quiet one. - A big and splendid one.

You shall be lord and master afterwards.

Was Drake well when you left Falmouth?

He had started to take exercise. That's what he needs.

Yes. l'm glad Sam went to stay with him.

Made me sad thinking of him all alone pining his heart out.

lt'll do him good to have Sam.

- A groom just come... - You must bring them on a tray.

My hands ain't dirty. Leastways.

And 'tain't for ee.

'Tis for ee, Doctor.

Thank you, Prudie.

A professional call.

That's ridiculous. You can't practise for months yet.

l shall answer this one.

Well, l won't let you.

l heard Dwight Enys was visiting at Nampara today,

so l sent there.

You sent to Nampara?

l would send to hell for Valentine's sake.

l believe Enys is a sick man.

But he is the best doctor in the county.

- Our opinion is divided. - Will you take his word?

- About Valentine? - l shall abide by what he says if you will.

Mrs Warleggan is expecting me.

- That is Enys. - We will take him straight upstairs.

Whose idea was it to remove the dressings?

lt was mine, Doctor.

l congratulate you, Mrs Warleggan.

Now, there's a good little man.

Now, let me look at this leg.

Will he be well?

lf treated properly.

Keep him quiet and warm.

Glad to see you're letting some air into the room.

Don't let him stand up but let him move in his cot.

Play with him, make him laugh, that's the best medicine.

He must have as much milk as you can persuade him to drink.

Will he be straight of limb?

A slight curvature of the right leg but scarcely visible.

Be thankful for him, Mr Warleggan, and be thankful to your wife.

l'll have another look at him when l call for Miss Agatha's party.

Ross, look.

The clothes Rosina Hoblyn made for the children,

for Aunt Agatha's party.

Still no official invitation.

lt'll come. It must. Even he couldn't be that petty.

- Couldn't he? - For Jeremy.

- Oh... - l measured him for it.

But he's growing so fast l'm wondering.

- Looks good. - Hmm.

Now...

- for Clowance. - Pretty.

- She's coming on amazingly. - She's rising one.

lt's frightening how our time passes. So much has happened.

The real business of life - watching your children grow,

cutting hay, quenching your thirst with home-brewed ale,

seeing the smoke from your mine chimneys,

your toil coming to something.

Not killing. Not killing.

l pray God there'll be no more of that for me.

Amen to that.

And now, what do you think of Aunt Agatha's present?

lt's coral and it's strange and beautifully made.

- All the way from the Pacific. - Hard to know what she wants.

- It'll tickle her vanity. - Vanity! At her age?

You don't know so much about women.

Are you expecting someone?

- It could be Zacky. - Oh.

Sam!

Oh, Sam, how good to see you.

- Sam? - Er...no, Cap'n.

- It's only ale. - l've had some water.

Why are you back so soon? Didn't you like Falmouth?

- You didn't bring Drake back? - He weren't there.

- Not at the ship? - Nor anywhere. l searched the town.

- He went away the day afore l got there. - Without a word?

He told the bosun he wished be on his own.

- Mayhap he's gone to Illogan. - Mayhap.

Mayhap he's took to the road and been murdered.

- Sam! - Or pressed into the fleet.

l knows Drake. Despair can make him wild.

And he's in black despair.

Demelza, l'm feared for him.

My shoes are tight.

Can't you find something to stretch them with?

l like the buckles but l can't wear tight shoes at my party.

l am glad Elizabeth's child is better.

l was sorry for the little spud

but he very nearly spoiled my party.

Girl? Girl?

George Warleggan.

What brings you?

You've never seen fit to come to my room before.

- Your party. - Oh! That is kind of you.

Of course, it is but five days' time.

l'm glad for your little boy.

Thank you.

How many have accepted?

Oh, it will be a grand party.

There will be no party.

What's that you say? It's my hearing.

Your party will not now take place.

Oh! Why ever not?

What has happened?

The child is better,

is there smallpox or plague or... In God's name...

None of these things. It is my decision.

No, you can't. You cannot do it.

l must stop it, Miss Poldark, l cannot have you shown up as a liar.

A liar? Liar!

This must be some trick.

Can you hear me, Miss Poldark?

l should not like your bad hearing to prevent you.

When Morwenna married Osborne Whitworth,

l observed the register in Sawle church.

l saw that its records went back a century and a half.

Something moved me to return later and examine them.

lt was a history of the Poldarks and Trenwiths,

all in faded ink.

l looked for your baptism 100 years ago in 1695.

- It was not there. - What's that?

lt was not there. Can you hear me?

Oh, you were baptised, l found the entry -

but it was for September 1697.

- Well? - It is a lie!

lt's a scabby lie.

Hark, then, dear lady.

l was not content with that

for l know that baptisms do not always instantly follow births

so l have been searching.

ln the dusty attics of this house, in the papers we rescued from Trenwith -

hard work, dusty work and all done by myself,

for l could hardly risk exposing you to servants, could l?

And finally l found...this.

- What is it? - l think you recognise it.

Your family Bible.

Would you like to read it?

Then let me read it to you.

l dare suppose this is your father's handwriting?

The ink is faded but it's clear, very clear.

lt says...

''Ye 10th day of August, 1697.

''Born to us this wet summer morn 1 1 o'clock in the aforenoon,

''our first child, a daughter,

''Agatha Mary.

''Praise be to God.''

Shall l read it again?

ln the margin is written,

''Christened 3rd September.''

So, Miss Poldark, on Monday next you will be but 98.

l'm going to instruct that Ietters be written to the guests.

l shall inform them you made a mistake as to your age

and new invitations will be issued in two years.

You would not dare!

- Oh, it is my duty. - Elizabeth would not allow it.

Where's Elizabeth? Send Elizabeth.

Birthday on Monday whether or no.

98! It's a good old age.

- There shall be no party. - Wait!

l'll not live two years more.

You know that.

Who'd know if you said naught?

l...l'll n-never cross you again, George,

but l've been looking forward to this for so long.

l'll not cross you again, eh? Eh?

lt'll do you no hurt because l'll make a new will

and l'll leave you the money l have in consols.

No one need ever know.

l don't want your money.

Let us be frank, old woman.

We hate each other.

l could feel sorry for you but l'll see you rot in this room sooner than lie.

lf you do this to me,

may ee rot too...

and rot ee will.

And your twisted little son.

- Rave, you witch. - Little Valentine,

born under a black moon and twisted already.

He'll eat the worms of this world afore his father.

l'll not listen to this!

The last of the Warleggans.

Or be he a Warleggan at all?

That wasn't no eighth-month baby, George.

l seen 'em seven months, eight months many times in my life.

No nails they have, see?

And their skin wrinkled like an apple that's been kept too long.

And...no cry. Well, a poor, wee cry.

And no hair.

That were a full-term child.

Your precious, twisted Valentine

were a full-term child, l lay my oath.

So maybe you and Elizabeth

didn't wait for the wedding ceremony, was that it, eh? Eh?

Or maybe someone else was riding she afore ever you was wed.

Madwoman! What are you saying?

- Who put this in your mind? - Maybe someone else was the father.

Spit it out! Come on, spit it out!

Spit out your filth!

Spit it out! Spit it out!

Spit it out, damn you!

Spit it out.

Woman?

Woman?

lsn't he beautiful?

Such a good boy. He drank all his milk today.

Oh, isn't he beautiful?

Our child.

George. What's the matter?