Original subtitles

♪♪

♪ Memories like voices that call on the wind ♪

♪ Medhel an gwyns, medhel an gwyns ♪

♪ Whispered and tossed on the tide coming in ♪

♪ Medhel, oh, medhel an gwyns ♪

♪ Songs like the dreams that the bal maidens spin ♪

♪ Medhel an gwyns, medhel an gwyns ♪

♪ Weaving the song of the cry of the tin ♪

♪ Medhel, oh, medhel an gwyns ♪

♪ Voices like songs that are heard in the dawn ♪

♪ Medhel an gwyns, medhel an gwyns ♪

♪ Singing the secrets of children unborn ♪

♪ Medhel, oh, medhel an gwyns. ♪

Do he think he can buy we off with faggons?

Hush, ye black worm!

Cap'n Ross already be looking after we

by turning a blind eye to us living in his barn.

Do he know we live here?

Course he do!

PRUDIE: Bless him for it, maid.

And ye, too.

And curse 'ee,

ya mizzerly, maazerly mongrel!

Oh, I could leather the arse of him.

(horse whinnying)

(bell tolling)

GEORGE: Impressive operation, though,

the smelting works on Trevaunance land.

CARY: Mm. Though it's difficult, I imagine,

without any actual copper.

Yes, pity it will shortly no longer be required.

Their mines produce a fraction of what's needed.

At the last four auctions, they were outbid.

And if they get no more copper at the next auction,

surely that'll be the death knell for Carnmore?

Were I Sir John Trevaunance,

I might regret having

a brand-new smelting works on my land,

and my money invested

with nothing to produce.

You should go, dear.

Kate'll be wantin' you.

How is the child, Jinny?

She's better, Cap'n Poldark, sir.

Dr. Enys say 'tis not the putrid throat after all.

That's a mercy.

'Tis, sir.

Only this week, there's three dead of it in Sawle.

Here, take these for you and Jim's mother.

I'm that glad to serve 'ee again, ma'am.

I know 'ee can scarce afford me.

Jinny, if we did what we could afford,

we wouldn't get out of bed.

She has a new tooth coming.

Soon she'll be able to bite like Garrick.

(laughs)

What's this?

It's from Verity.

When will Verity be home?

This is not Verity's home.

My throat's afire.

Get Mrs. Tabb to fetch me a posset.

She's unwell.

All the servants are unwell.

I'm not unwell.

93,

and the appetite of a girl of 20!

If Verity were here, she'd prescribe honey and liquorice.

Dr. Choake prescribes leeches.

I've no faith in Dr. Choake.

Nor I.

And even less in Verity.

Verity seems content.

So your experiment ended well.

And yours?

Carnmore?

Our hopes are pinned on tomorrow's auction.

We have scraped together enough capital to bid high.

If we get sufficient copper, we'll survive.

If we had more capital, we'd stand a better chance.

I wish to help.

Let me help.

We could raise a mortgage on Nampara.

Already raised.

You could sell my brooch and my best frock.

By no means.

We're not yet so desperate

that I must steal the gown off your back.

But I would feel better.

If I could somehow make amends...

I'll be home tomorrow.

Tonight, I'll stay at the Red Lion.

'Twill go well at the auction.

You'll win all your bids, get all the copper you need,

and Carnmore will be safe.

Wave!

You're wasting away.

I've no time for feasting.

Since Keren's death, you take no care of yourself.

Since her husband's exile,

I try to care for those he left behind.

You've had word of him?

Safe and well in France, with no plans to return.

So you may cease to lash yourself

into a frenzy of work.

May I?

With this latest epidemic?

The putrid throat?

I'm struggling to contain it.

Whole families have gone under.

If the poor were better fed and housed...

It's no respecter of privilege.

Choake has been summoned to Trenwith.

Who has it there?

All of them, I believe.

Can you not call?

They're Choake's patients.

He'd resent my interference.

Besides, I lay no claim to a cure.

Sometimes the weak survive and the strong go under.

Stand aside, Mr. Poldark.

We are on urgent business.

I won't detain you.

I came to inquire after the family.

Is it the putrid throat?

Morbus strangulatorius?

What fool gave you that idea?

We have isolated the symptoms,

we have applied remedies, and they are all on the mend.

So soon?

'Tis merely a question

of competent treatment, sir.

They'll be up and about in no time.

(sighs)

(coughs)

(glass clanks on table)

I have next to dispose of a dole of ore from United Mines.

50 tons.

Sold to the South Wales Smelting Company

for £7, 16 shillings a ton.

Do you want some bread? Hm?

(door opens)

You've heard the news from Trenwith?

Tell me.

Wheal Busy.

Parcel of red copper.

45 tons.

Sold to the South Wales Smelting Company

for £8, 4 shillings a ton.

All the servants ill?

Not one fit to tend them?

And Dr. Choake called away to Truro

and not back till morning.

Wheal Leisure.

40 tons.

Wheal Leisure ore is sold

to the South Wales Smelting Company

for £7, 19 shillings.

And that concludes the auction for today.

Thank you, gentlemen.

(sighs)

If I'm not back by nightfall, see Julia's milk boiled

and that she's put to bed.

Hm?

Are we all that remain?

The Warleggans have been most efficient.

I call to order this meeting

of the Carnmore Copper Company.

Proceed, sir.

I have to report that today, yet again, we got no copper.

Since the prospect seems unlikely to change...

We bow to the inevitable?

It is with extreme regret that I declare

the Carnmore Copper Company dissolved.

Ross!

You're becoming a hermit.

Margaret was only saying how much she's missed you

at our little gaming parties.

I've no time for cards these days.

Oh, well, Cousin Matthew will be sad to hear that.

You know Margaret's on her third Lord?

I don't know how, but she sucks the life out of her lovers.

Her instinct for survival is voracious.

And you should know!

She told me she once had a fancy to marry you.

Not you?

My sights are set somewhat higher.

And how is your wife?

She was much remarked on at the last ball.

You should bring her out more.

We've no time for socializing, George.

The smelting company keeps you busy?

Wheal Leisure.

Ah, yes, one of the few mines

which still offer prospects for the investor.

I believe some shares

are shortly coming onto the market.

And whose are they?

Oh, I understood them to be yours.

But perhaps I was misinformed.

You were.

(door creaking)

Verity?

Is that you?

No, it's Demelza.

Ross's little bud.

I came to inquire after the family.

They're sick, every last jack of 'em.

And who's to care for 'em with Verity gone?

She'd no business to go.

Her duty's here.

'Twas a selfish, cruel thing she did, to leave us like that.

(coughing)

GEORGE: It goes without saying I would offer a generous price.

ROSS: I have no control

over my partners.

You could approach one of them.

What is it that offends you, Ross?

That we Warleggans have dared to drag ourselves out of poverty

and aspire to gentility?

Poverty doesn't offend me.

Nor does aspiration.

But you are mistaken if you think greed and exploitation

are the marks of a gentleman.

You know, one of these days,

you'll find yourself without means,

without colleagues, without friends,

and with no one to blame but yourself.

Good day to you, George.

(indistinct conversation)

Demelza?

I came to see if I could help.

Oh, that's very kind of you.

I'm in despair.

My poor little boy.

He has these spasms,

then he vomits and there's relief,

but only for a time, and then it begins again.

You're sick yourself, Elizabeth.

You ought to be in bed.

I cannot leave my boy.

I'll stay with him.

I'll stay and look after you all.

(sobbing)

The man imagined he could drive up copper prices.

(chuckling)

And get a "fairer deal" for the mines.

GEORGE: And so he did.

Till we became wise

and outbid him.

And now?

His smelting works stand idle.

The price of copper will fall again.

He'll be left with enormous debts.

And no obvious means to discharge them.

Perhaps he will throw himself upon your mercy.

He may try.

Excuse me.

PASCOE: It must be galling.

ROSS: To have nothing but debt to show for 12 months of hard labor?

Bad enough.

But to see your assets now in enemy hands...

The smelting works?

On Trevaunance land?

What did you hear?

That Sir John, after battling against the wind for months,

is now preparing to sail with it.

By selling to the Warleggans.

He must cover his losses.

While the rest of us go bankrupt.

If the servants hadn't been so ill...

But Dr. Choake said half the village is down.

Shh. You ought to rest.

(stirring from sleep)

Who is it?

Demelza.

She's come to help us.

FRANCIS: It is good of her to...

overlook past quarrels.

Mm.

So my own debts,

in addition to the mortgage on Nampara?

Around £900.

More than I feared.

You have assets.

My shares in Wheal Leisure.

I was approached only yesterday by a man named Cole,

with a good offer.

One that could clear all your debts.

For all of my shares?

I got the impression he'd go even higher.

Oh, he would.

On behalf of his master, George Warleggan.

As you once remarked, beggars cannot be choosers.

This time I can.

The Warleggans have a habit of buying up mines

and closing them down

just to suppress competition to their own holdings.

I'll be damned if I let that happen to Wheal Leisure.

So...?

So...

I require capital of £1,000.

Without security.

(chuckles)

(breathing fitfully)

Here.

It will ease the rawness.

Will he die?

Not if I can help it.

Any luck?

Would I call it that?

To saddle a man with a 12-month loan at interest of 40%?

I urge you to reconsider.

Start again, rather than plunge in so deep

there might be no getting out.

I'll take my chance.

The odds are against you.

I know it.

And should I doubt it, the sight of Matthew Sanson

parading about like a prize cockerel,

permitted to trade and socialize

as if his integrity were not in tatters.

Who's to gainsay him?

The Warleggans are complete masters of the district.

And this ship?

The Queen Charlotte.

Their latest venture.

They seem pleased with her.

They consider her their flagship enterprise.

And themselves unassailable.

(whinnying)

You shouldn't be out alone at dusk.

Poverty breeds desperate men.

You have news?

It will keep.

There's sickness at Trenwith.

Geoffrey Charles had it worst.

But I believe the crisis is past.

That's a relief.

I may never forgive Francis,

but I would not wish the putrid throat on my worst enemy.

Ross.

Yes?

I swore I would never keep secrets from you again.

And so?

I went to Trenwith.

But they turned you away?

No.

I stayed all last night.

In God's name, why?

Ross, I had to.

They were all so sick, even the servants.

They had no one to tend them.

And Geoffrey Charles was so weak.

Twice I thought him gone.

But this morning, he brought round,

and Dr. Choake says the worst is now over.

I cannot believe you would do such a...

What would you have done?

What did you do

for Jim Carter?

You're right.

It was a kind and generous act.

Perhaps in a fortnight,

I'll be in a mood to appreciate it.

(thunder rumbling)

(baby's cries echo)

(crying continues)

Put on a gown.

You'll catch a chill.

I'm hot.

'Tis she that is cold.

(Julia continues crying)

Bring her to bed.

Shh.

My throat is dry.

I'll get some water.

Shh.

What is it?

My throat is swollen.

You have a rash.

(thunder rumbling)

(door opens)

DWIGHT: They both have it.

The symptoms are unmistakable.

How bad will it be?

If they get through the night?

Dear God.

Surely...

There's no reliable treatment.

What can I do?

Pray.

(breathing fitfully)

Can you hear me, my love?

(whimpering)

Can you hear me, Demelza?

Try to drink this.

Just a sip.

She won't take it.

The fever's worsening.

Can you save her?

(panting)

Saved?

Are ye saved, daughter?

Are ye saved?

Are ye saved?!

FRANCIS: Saved from what?

An impudent trull like that?

DWIGHT: We must get her to drink something.

TOM CARNE: Drink is the devil's work!

Turn away, daughter.

Come home and live a clean and pure life.

DWIGHT: There's little more I can do.

ROSS: You must fight, my love.

You must fight.

TOM: Fight me? Fight me?

Come on, then, come on!

JINNY: Corn! We must have corn!

How else are we meant to feed our starving children?

SANSON: 15 shillings a bushel!

15 shillings and not a penny less!

ROSS: Demelza, do not underestimate the scale of your ignorance,

your arrogance,

your utter disregard for truth and consequence.

DWIGHT: She's fading.

She's fading, oh, dear God.

ROSS: What can I do?

ELIZABETH: Let go, my dear, let go.

I'll take care of Ross.

You know he would rather be with me.

You know he would rather be with me.

You know he would rather be with me...

(thunder rumbling)

Forgive me.

Forgive me, I cannot save her.

I will stay with her.

I would not have her be afraid.

(sighs)

Julia...

(wind blowing)

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Poldark will not be bothering us for a while.

Because?

He'll be otherwise engaged.

With what?

His daughter's burial.

(birds chirping)

DWIGHT: You should try to rest.

I should have provided for them.

Who?

It's the custom after the burial.

The winter's been savage.

The least I could've done was fed and watered them.

Who would expect it?

They know of Demelza's illness.

Everything I touch is cursed.

You cannot believe that.

So many came.

Yes. So many.

They care for you.

I should have provided for them.

There's no change.

For better or for worse.

You should take some air.

And then sleep.

(wind blowing, waves roaring)

♪♪

(wind whistling)

The maiden voyage of the Queen Charlotte...

The demise of the Carnmore Copper Company...

and its chief architect.

(thunder rumbling)

Something amiss?

Far from it.

Today, I omitted to provide for the mourners.

Now that will be remedied.

Jud!

Jud, wake up!

Goddamn, if a man's not king

of 'is own blathering 'ouse...

There's a wreck, Jud!

Where? Where's she struck?

Hendrawna Beach.

Go and rouse the others.

I'll to Sawle and Marazanvose.

Why bring in all they?

She's a prize of a ship.

Carrying food.

There'll be pickings for all.

Zacky! Zacky!

Hendrawna Beach, there's a wreck.

Paul! Go rouse the village.

What is she? A brigantine.

Grain aboard, pilchards,

enough to fill your bellies for a month!

How do you know?

I know who owns her.

Yah! Yah!

How long mun we wait?

My gizzards is rumblin'.

You'll be fed soon enough.

Paul, Zacky, get the fires going.

Tell the women to form a line.

And keep the children clear.

Hellfire and damnation!

It cannot be!

Hendrawna Beach, isn't that...?

Poldark land.

(shouting)

Feed the children first.

There'll be plenty for all later.

These people should hang!

Give me a rope and I'll do it myself!

Captain Bray must testify.

To what?

To the plunder and lawlessness!

Better still, Matthew.

He can testify against Poldark.

Always assuming he witnesses.

Whether he witnesses or not!

Good God, boy.

You don't suggest we wait for actual evidence?

Matthew is a gentleman.

He's a Warleggan worth two of any Poldarks,

and his word will carry twice the weight.

And I'll be damned if we don't turn this debacle

to our advantage!

♪♪

(laughing)

Do we think he'll be there?

If the reports are true.

Of his daughter?

He may not be in the mood for plunder.

Then again, he may.

And if he is?

He'll be caught in the act.

Cap'n Ross!

Cap'n Ross!

They be comin' from 'Luggan.

Who?

Why, the blathering miners!

They saw the boat up from the cliffs

and followed her round the coast to 'ere!

They'll be wantin' a piece of her, that's for certain!

We'll give 'em a bastin'!

We bamfered 'em once, we can do it again!

'Tis a clubbish lot they are, though.

'Tis said they'll leave a man drown

just to 'ave the shirt off his back.

'Tisn't right, 'tisn't fit, 'tisn't fair, 'tisn't proper.

'Tis our beach, 'tis our vittles.

Clear as much cargo as we can before they arrive.

Once they're here, it'll be out of our hands.

It's mine, it's mine!

She's mine!

I'll not be parted from 'er!

Ugh!

The situation is grave.

I'm given to understand there's a serious risk

to passengers and crew.

From drowning, sir?

From the rabble on the beach.

And since many of the passengers are gentlemen,

in particular my own cousin, Matthew...

And then there's the matter of the cargo.

'Tis generally accepted that what's washed ashore

is property of the finder.

It is the property of the Warleggans,

and anyone plundering will be guilty of theft

and committing a capital offense.

I'm certain we understand each other.

Indeed we do, sir.

I had hoped...

I could've sworn she'd come round by now.

Will she yet, do you think?

I wish I could know for certain.

You should go, Jinny.

Help your family at Hendrawna.

(knocking at door)

(door opens)

I'll be off now, sir.

Who was at the door?

Someone to look after mistress.

The 'Luggan miners be 'ere, Ross!

Far end o' the beach.

Go home.

Make the women and children safe.

Keep your doors shut and bolted.

Nay, I'll budge for no man!

'Tis our cove, 'tis our pickings.

Let them strip the vessel if they choose.

We've had the best of her.

Take him home, before his mouth

gets him into mischief it can't talk him out of.

Yes, Mr. Ross.

Lord bless you, Mr. Ross.

Survivors, Ross!

Bein' washed ashore!

Where?

Far side o' the beach, comin' in on the tide.

They won't last long with 'Luggan's finest to greet 'em!

Get everyone off the beach now.

What will you do?

See what I can do for the survivors.

(shouting)

(faint screaming)

(screaming)

(shouts and screams)

(blade rings)

Help! Help!

Help!

Hey!

(coughing)

Sanson!

Keep your distance, man!

We are armed!

I was about to offer you shelter.

Who are you?

My name is Poldark.

I have a house nearby.

Have you no control over these savages here?

None whatsoever.

It's a disgrace.

Two years ago, I was shipwrecked off Patagonia

and treated less barbarously.

Perhaps the natives were better fed than these miners.

Fed?

If it were only food!

But all of our cargoes has been pillaged

and we ourselves barely escaped with our lives.

It's monstrous.

There is much in this world which is monstrous.

Those who prefer not to freeze to death, follow me.

How do we know it's not a trap?

You'll have to take my word for it.

The word of a gentleman?

I must get word to Mr. Warleggan.

He's already apprised, sir.

'Twas he who dispatched us.

You'll set about reclaiming our goods from this rabble?

Never fear, sir.

We'll soon restore order.

I wouldn't count on it.

I have my orders.

Then at least wait till daylight.

These people are fighting drunk

and quarreling among themselves.

Interfere and they'll turn on you.

But if we fired into them...

Not half of you would come out alive.

You'll pardon me, gentlemen, but may I ask for quietness?

My wife is seriously ill.

Ross, you're back.

These men survived the wreck.

They will need your attention.

Forgive me.

I was trying to sleep.

Then who's with Demelza?

I was too weak to come to the funeral.

But hearing she might still be in danger...

There's no need.

She saved my child.

Yes.

And lost yours in return.

Oh, Ross, if I could do anything that would...

You can.

You can pray to God I do not lose the love of my life.

Of course.

Come back, my love.

Come back.

Come back.

Has she come to take you?

No.

No, my love, she will never take me.

(seagulls crying)

I was sorry to hear of your loss.

The world is a darker place without her.

And a brighter one without him.

Could you have saved him?

Why would I wish to?

Common decency?

He showed none.

You insist that we are enemies

when, in fact, we have much in common,

and could be allies.

God forbid I should ever be so desperate.

Where's Julia?

Shh.

You've been asleep a long while.

There was a shipwreck.

Where?

On Hendrawna Beach.

I've never seen a wreck.

Where's Julia?

(crying)

But I was not with her.

I was.

Could you tell that she was leaving us?

Was she afraid?

She was peaceful.

I held her in my arms.

Oh, Ross!

(crying)

♪♪

That upstart is here again.

I really cannot face him.

I...

Let him be told we're not yet recovered.

I will make our excuses.

Forgive my intrusion.

I was returning from the wreck.

No doubt you heard my cousin Matthew perished.

I wish there was some consolation I could offer.

There is.

These are strange times, Elizabeth.

We should no longer stand on ceremony.

If you say so.

Sooner or later,

we must all declare for one side or another.

For which side do you declare?

For no side.

At least... for no man.

You must not say this to me, George.

Oh, I must.

And I do.

I will no longer have my feelings misunderstood.

Or my intentions.

I bid you good day, Elizabeth.

(crying)

I wish...

I wish...

What do you wish?

I wish I'd had the chance to say goodbye.

DEMELZA: Geoffrey Charles is well.

We must take heart from that.

Can you?

And so must you.

Will you make it up with Francis?

Even though he betrayed us?

You make me ashamed.

Your heart is so generous.

You always see the good in things.

I will invite him to join me at Wheal Leisure.

Together, we will try to resurrect the fortunes

of the Poldark mines.

Will that satisfy you?

So there is hope.

And it will not have been for nothing after all.

Captain Poldark?

I have orders to take you to Truro Jail.

On what charge?

Wrecking.

Inciting a riot.

Murder.

'Tis a mistake!

You cannot believe it.

Ross, tell him!

Who accuses me?

Who accuses me?

George.

♪ I'd pluck a fair rose for my love ♪

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♪ Love's in my heart ♪

♪ Trying so to prove ♪

♪ What your heart's knowin'. ♪

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