This is Masterpiece.

My name is Tankard, acting on behalf of Mr. Coke.

Mr. Warleggan, more like.

Previously on "Poldark."

PASCOE: Are they on a mission to own the company?

Just to own me.

GEORGE: I ordered you to scare him, not assassinate him.

Tom got a little carried away.

ROSS: Somehow, you managed to bring the light back to Francis's eyes.

I cannot imagine how.

Can you not?

ROSS: A child is coming, and if you can risk your heart again, then so can I.

"Poldark," tonight on Masterpiece.

♪ ♪ (waves lapping) Mr. Vercoe.

Captain Poldark.

May I ask where these men are headed?

Truro Jail, sir.

And their crime?

Importing goods without paying the required duty.

Some call it free trading.

ROSS: Some call it the only way to afford life's necessities.

Brandy?

Gin?

These essentials, are they?

Salt is.

'Tis my duty to enforce the law, Captain.

Your commitment is heartwarming.

Move out!

You shouldn't rile him.

Couldn't resist.

I'm wanted at the mine.

There are fuses to set.

And you'd abandon me?

Suppose I met a footpad on the way home.

God help him.

(laughs) (loud explosion) (men coughing) Still not through?

Can't be far off.

Can almost smell Trevorgie the other side of that ironstone!

Another blast should do the trick.

Will the shareholders keep faith with us?

They're sensible men, most of them, and I intend to make a robust argument.

So we carry on?

We carry on.

(footsteps) They've broken through?

Almost.

Ross Poldark is tenacious.

Ultimately, I expect Wheal Leisure to do very well for me.

Why else would ye buy shares in it?

On whose land does Wheal Leisure sit?

Who is its main shareholder?

And his latest scheme is about to come to fruition.

It's just too easy.

Were you hurt in the blast?

'Tis bruisin' I have all the time.

Swelling too, same as Ted.

Sir.

What is it?

Like a plague, Ross.

Half the mine's afflicted.

Half the village beside.

Should we send these men home?

They can't afford to lose their pitches.

Well, they won't, of course.

But we need them fit.

Get Dwight Enys.

Dwight Enys is a scoundrel.

For all he knows, I might be dead.

I think I would have informed him had that been the case.

Lift your head up.

Show me your teeth.

(sighs) I can't account for these symptoms.

Swelling, bruising, bleeding gums, listlessness... ROSS: Is it the dust?

The foul air of the mine?

I wondered that, but some of these people are fisher folk.

It's perplexing.

(humming song) ♪ Summer in the May-O, for winter is a-coming... ♪ Is that wise?

With the currents so strong hereabouts?

I know 'em well enough.

Will Ross be happy?

He'll be happy with these.

And who's to tell him where I got 'em?

How long will Jud be gone?

Don't talk to me of that slinkin' great lurker!

Any excuse to shirk his chores and study the inside of Sally Chill-off's kiddley.

"Keeping his head down," he says.

I'll keep his head down.

Could someone have caused the bruises?

She says they come of their own accord.

But how?

I can't fathom it.

Is it paludal fever?

Is it purpura?

I've tried fresh air, sunlight, goat's milk, nutmeg.

Perhaps what I should try is a different profession.

The navy, perhaps?

You'd enjoy ship's rations.

Salt pork, dried biscuit, weevils.

No doubt, and be all the healthier for it.

Of course.

What?

Biscuit, salt, no fresh fruit, no green vegetables.

I thank you, Ross!

What for?

Helping me diagnose the complaint.

Scurvy!

MAN: Captain Poldark, sir?

Thank you, sir.

Dwight!

This just came for you.

From Killewarren.

(horse neighing) You seem in haste, George.

Have you urgent business afoot?

All my business is urgent.

Including your assault-by-proxy?

Excuse me?

My servant, a witness at the trial, was attacked and left for dead.

And how is that my concern?

Only that it would be a mistake to imagine such intimidation could continue to be one-sided.

Is that a threat, Ross?

Is it?

JINNY: Last night in Sawle, they say another drop was ambushed.

More cargo lost and four more sent to Bodmin Jail.

Since the riots in Bodmin, the district's been crawling with soldiers.

They're clean out of salt from Padstowe to St. Ives.

Do bode ill for when the shoals come in.

Where are these from?

Nampara Cove.

You went out in the boat?

No, I whistled and they came a-dancin' at me out the waves.

Have you no sense?

Yes, and an extra mouth to feed!

Then at least do with the courtesy of taking more care of yourself in future.

I won't be home late.

(door closes) ELIZABETH: A Virgula divinitoria.

It's believed to sniff out metal.

That upstart Warleggan hasn't called of late.

He and Francis have quarreled.

I wonder he doesn't call in your loans.

Perhaps he has another plan.

Such as?

Should I know how the devil's mind works?

You better keep him sweet.

Perhaps you should pay him a visit.

Of course we're happy.

I could not be more so.

And yet?

My brother will not forgive me, and Andrew's children decline to meet me.

Not that I blame them.

I've replaced their dear departed mother.

They must hate me.

But when they meet you...

I begin to fear that will never happen.

And if they will not accept me now, how much worse will it be if Andrew and I have a child of our own?

Are you...?

No, not yet.

But children are the natural consequence of marriage, are they not?

It would appear so.

DWIGHT: Dear Madam, I am happy to hear of your recovery, but be assured, as to payment, I am amply recompensed by the knowledge of your gratitude.

CAROLINE: To you, Dr. Enys, no doubt the saving of my life seems a very small service.

To me, it assumes a slightly greater significance.

I therefore enclose a guinea, which is the smallest value, little as I esteem myself, that I could put upon your services.

Be so kind as to attend me today.

Do you think Elizabeth could ever be persuaded to meet me here, even for half an hour, with Geoffrey Charles?

Would she do that?

Behind Francis's back?

No.

She would never.

But I do miss them so terribly.

(sighs) You see?

He will never be reconciled.

(door opens) Dr. Enys.

How kind of you to call.

I haven't been waiting above three months.

I apologize, Miss Penvenen.

I've been busy with my other patients.

Doubtless they're more important than I.

Only insofar as their conditions are more serious.

Well?

Are you going to examine my throat or not?

Open your mouth, please.

Wider, please.

Most satisfactory.

You'll have no further trouble.

How brusque you are today!

Is your friend Ross Poldark so peremptory?

He has little time for pleasantries, if that's what you mean.

Do you ride, Dr. Enys?

For pleasure, that is?

I'm sure you'll appreciate I have very little time when I'm taken up with... More serious complaints.

So tell me, what are they?

Scrofula, phthisis, scurvy... And what can be done for them?

Simple foods-- green vegetables, fresh fruit-- can effect an almost immediate cure.

But these are precisely what the poor cannot afford, so they bleed and die.

Why do they not spend less on gin and more on oranges?

Oranges?

Oranges when they can be had cost thruppence apiece.

Gin costs less than sixpence a quart.

Yet many are as sober as you or I.

But will you do any good by attempting to save these people?

They'll only multiply, and then there'll be more mouths to feed.

And of course it's sad to see them die, but at least it keeps the numbers in check.

Would you excuse me, madam?

My patients require me.

I shall take the liberty of returning your fee.

You consider yourself tainted by it?

I bid you good day.

(door closes) ROSS: Gentlemen, we have good news to report.

Our latest excavations have taken us through to what we calculate to be feet from the old Trevorgie copper lode.

Now, I'm aware this has taken longer than we'd hoped, but it is my belief that the next blast will see us break through.

So it only remains for us to secure your approval to divert this quarter's profits for the last time.

One final push.

Do we have everyone's agreement?

TANKARD: Eight weeks.

ROSS: Yes?

Beyond your wildest estimate, and you're still not through?

Ironstone is no respecter of time or money.

But we as shareholders must be, surely?

Each quarter, we've seen our profits diverted into a scheme which has so far yielded precisely nothing.

Optimism's one thing, but what if you've got your bearings wrong and bypassed the old workings altogether?

There is not a man in these parts who knows the workings better than Captain Henshawe.

But if he's wrong, you might dig on for years and never connect.

HENSHAWE: I say we put it to a vote.

All those in favor of continuing?

All those against?

Motion to continue denied.

Shall we close the meeting?

There's nothing further to report.

One moment, sir.

You will no doubt have noticed the absence of Mr. Renfrew.

As of yesterday, he is no longer a shareholder, having sold his shares to me.

GEORGE: Was he furious?

Not with me.

But then, he knows I am not the actual owner of the shares.

You pass my house without paying a call?

How have I offended you?

As I think you know, George, since the trial...

The trial?

Is that not behind us now?

Cannot we move forward?

Rekindle our former connection?

I'm not sure how possible...

Please.

At least return with me and take some refreshment.

Mr. Trencrom.

Captain Poldark.

What can I do for you, Mr. Trencrom?

May a man not call in neighborly fashion?

Inquire after your affairs, see how they prosper, speak a little of his own?

Suppose you speak first of yours, so I may come to a quicker understanding of your interest in mine?

(laughs) I'm sad you've declined my invitations of late.

We decline all invitations.

We simply cannot afford to return the hospitality.

May I venture to suggest that I am a special case?

And difficult as things are at Trenwith, they could, I'm sure you realize, be so much worse.

And if Francis cannot say so, allow me to convey the thanks of the entire family.

Not the entire family, surely?

My affairs do far from prosper.

Oh, business is brisk as far as consumption goes.

The difficulty comes with the supply.

So I hear.

What do you hear?

That the customs officials at St. Ann's are determined to let nothing slip ashore.

And that all your attempts to persuade them with a share of the profits have fallen on deaf ears.

And now this crackdown from on high means that every time we find a new landing place, we're met by gaugers and military.

All cargo confiscated, crew barely escaped with their lives.

So here's the thing: we've run out of navigable inlets.

And I possess the only one for miles.

Actually, I expect to be seeing a good deal of Ross in future.

I've increased my shareholding in his mine.

Oh.

So I hope I won't have cause to inflict undue pressure on him.

Or on Francis, for that matter.

What might cause you to?

I wonder.

Your cove is not ideal, but we could land there safely on still nights.

I'd handle the distribution.

All you'd need to do is draw your curtains.

And what do you think would induce me to do so?

Ross... We could discuss a lump sum per cargo.

How does 50 pounds sound?

(laughs) I see you've not lost your sense of humor.

(laughs) Is that such a poor offer?

And what would you suggest?

200 pounds per cargo.

Ross!

My dear sir, impossible!

Make the journey almost without profit!

Not to mention salt.

Salt?

There's less profit in salt than tea or brandy.

Less call for it among my more genteel customers.

200 pounds per cargo and six casks of salt.

That's my price, take it or leave it.

(sighs) What is it you seek, George?

Your friendship.

A renewal of our former intimacy.

A gradual increase in it.

Is that too much to ask?

Particularly if it safeguards those you love?

(claps) (laughs) I do not believe Francis would be happy about my visiting here often, if at all.

A pity.

A very great pity.

(door closes) 200 pounds for letting tub-carriers use our cove?

That won't buy you out of prison!

I don't intend to be there.

I can't stand it again.

The fretting, the not sleeping, the picturing you hanging at Bargus Crossroads!

Were we not in dire straits, I wouldn't do it.

Today, I learned that George has bought up more of Wheal Leisure.

With 200 pounds, we can keep our heads above water and Sawle can salt its pilchards.

And why is it fine for you to run risks when I may not even take a boat out in calm waters?

Believe me, I have every intention of keeping on the right side of the law.

Or at least the blind side.

ZACKY: 'Tis a crying shame we stopped the tunnel to Trevorgie.

In my bones, I could feel we were close.

Where do you estimate we'd got to?

Well, nigh on that clump of trees.

ROSS: Halfway towards Wheal Grace?

ZACKY: I'd say so-- your father's old mine.

It's never occurred to me till now how close it is to the old Trevorgie workings.

Reckon it wouldn't hurt to take a closer look at Trevorgie from that end.

Maybe the old men found a way through that we know nothing of.

Is that what Mark meant?

The night he went away to France?

There's money in that mine.

Copper.

We never see'd a more keenly lode.

You think he wandered into Trevorgie?

Could he?

But if it's all underwater... With no way of draining it... We'd need one of them new-fangled pumping engines.

Which cost.

Let me think on it.

If I decide to take it any further, I'll come back to you.

What are you up to?

Daydreaming.

Wheal Grace.

You don't intend to resurrect her?

If my finances ever match my ambitions.

(laughs) The curse of the Poldarks.

Plenty of one, none of the other.

Dr. Enys.

Are you now a peddler?

They're for my patients.

When these are gone, there'll be nothing till next harvest.

Do your patients enjoy worms and mold?

Beggars cannot be choosers.

Almonds, sugar, oranges and chocolate.

You spoil me!

May I not?

But in fact, it is not all for you.

The sugar is for James, the chocolates are for Esther.

They come in a month.

Are you happy now?

Yes, of course!

Ah, Caroline.

This from Unwin, pressing the subject of an engagement.

Now he's an MP... His coffers need to keep pace with his ambitions?

Oh, for shame, Caroline!

One must not assume mercenary motives.

I dearly hope that both of you are marrying for love.

(laughs) You think Unwin loves me?

You do not?

I think he loves my 20,000 pounds.

Oh, I would be sorry to think so.

Does it not strike you as odd?

I'm an heiress, yet I have no money of my own.

Suppose you give me some?

Well, I have no objection to advancing you something, but in Lord of day, what will you spend it on?

I mean, your every need is catered for here.

50 pounds?

How much?

What's the use of being rich if one can't have a flutter now and then?

Caroline, you know I disapprove of gaming.

But this would be a new type of gambling, uncle.

It appeals to me, and I have a fancy to indulge the whim.

(footsteps) I saw Ross.

Was he well?

He's considering a new venture.

Of what nature?

Mining, of course.

What else?

Whether we like it or not, it's in our blood.

Come on, boy!

Shall we go see if we can strike lucky?

HENSHAWE: How far is it?

ZACKY: Quarter mile.

Give me a shovel, I'll dig it myself and be back in time for supper.

(laughing) PRUDIE: Someone's full of the joys of spring.

Always is when he's up and doing.

'Tis sittin' still he can't abide.

ROSS: Well, this section's mostly shallow, but the lower levels are flooded.

HENSHAWE: Mm.

We'd surely need an engine.

Those two young engineers in Redruth.

Trevithick and Bull?

They've some interesting new ideas.

Yeah, at a price.

And we don't yet know if there's ore enough to make it worthwhile.

Is it worth the risk?

We have these samples, this map, Mark's word.

Your pigheadedness.

(laughs) And against that?

Time?

Money?

Common sense?

Is it a secret, or can we all be told?

All in good time.

But for tonight, draw the curtains early.

And ignore any sounds outside.

And where will you be?

Taking delivery of the cargo.

Ross, you cannot!

Already arranged.

Disarrange it!

(waves lapping) ROSS: Here they come.

(tapping) CHARLIE: So far, so good.

TED: So I should hope.

Who else could know about this?

PAUL: Yet the other landings up the coast were surprised.

TED: Mr. Trencrom did advise us to trust no one.

CHARLIE: Keep the horse straight.

Gaugers!

How many?

Just the one.

Vercoe!

I'll head him off.

Nay, Ross.

If he sees you, you're as good as hanged.

It's clear-- let's go.

(barking) If they varmints come a-troachin' 'cross our flower-beds, I'll... (creaking) (sighs) (footsteps) It's over.

Is it?

Demelza, try to see this in a rational light.

I'm home.

The tide is high.

There's no footprints on the beach.

There'll be salt for the pilchards.

And we are 200 pounds less in debt than we were this morning.

Is that not cause to celebrate?

That you go against my wishes?

For the good of us both.

That you take risks that you need not take?

On this occasion.

You think you can do as you please while I always do as you bid me?

Well, think again!

(door slams) BLAMEY: Well, my love?

The Thunderer docks at noon.

I'll collect James, then meet Esther off the Plymouth coach and be with you by 2:00.

Do not make yourself uneasy.

They will adore you as much as I do!

Thank you so much.

Miss Penvenen?

Captain Poldark!

Are you lost?

Do I look it?

You're far from home.

Perhaps I enjoy my own company.

You should make the most of it.

I hear you're to be married soon.

Do you recommend the estate?

When both parties agree.

We cannot all follow our hearts.

Surely an heiress can?

What an amusing idea.

Excuse me, I'm late for the hunt.

Ross!

Is it you I have to thank for this windfall?

What is it?

Oranges!

I think we both know I am not your mysterious benefactor.

Oranges?

Oranges.

If I made you a gift, it would be a better instrument for removing fish bones.

You bruised my mouth with your fingers, remember?

I knew it was you.

I'm very grateful.

They'll be life-saving.

Good heavens, you don't imagine I care about the fate of a few fishwives, do you?

You wouldn't take my guinea.

So...?

I knew your conscience wouldn't let you refuse a gift for your starving patients.

So you see, now you're under obligation to me.

(laughs) Is that where you prefer your men?

You're rather impertinent.

I like you very much too.

UNWIN: Oh, there you are, Caroline!

The fox escaped us, but, uh... Dr. Enys.

GEORGE: Dr. Enys!

I hear you're rather good at curing dogs.

Did you notice Horace has a little spot on his ear?

Has he?

Perhaps Dr. Enys might take a look at it after we've gone.

For 12 bags of oranges, he shall have the best attention I can give him.

(clock bell chiming) HENSHAWE: Do we wait for Mr. Tankard?

He knows the time of the meeting.

Proceed, Mr. Henshawe.

Last month, we sent two parcels of red copper to auction.

This month, we'll have two, maybe three.

The question is, do we take on extra men, aside from those back on tribute since the closing of the tunnel?

Mr. Tankard is not here, so we must take a vote without him.

Gentlemen, should... Forgive my tardiness.

The fox led us a merry dance, but we got him in the end.

Oh, you were expecting Mr. Tankard?

He will no longer attend.

I feel, as a principal shareholder, it befits me to take a more robust interest from now on.

Perhaps you will kindly outline your suggestions and I shall give them my best consideration.

♪ ♪ What do it mean?

It means we cannot move an inch without his say-so.

Nothing to be done.

Or is there?

You will sell half my shares in Wheal Leisure.

If you wish.

And you will demand the very highest price.

I know for certain George will pay.

I think it's for the best.

Indeed, had you done so a year ago...

Still, not too late to pay off your debts and start afresh.

Very true.

But that's not in fact how I intend to use the money.

Ross!

It's good to see you.

Is Francis here?

Yes, he's... FRANCIS: Ah!

I thought I heard your voice.

Is this a social call?

Not exactly.

What?

I'm opening Wheal Grace.

You don't mean it!

Yes.

FRANCIS: That's cheerful news!

ROSS: Henshawe and I have already been down.

The lower level's flooded, we'll need an engine, but we reckon there's enough ore in the shallows to get us through.

Who's investing the money?

I've sold half my shares in Wheal Leisure.

I can realize 600 pounds.

Six hundred?

Yes.

Um... You've told me more than once about the money you've put by.

Yes.

With 1,200 pounds, we could do a great deal.

You're suggesting we go into partnership?

Yes.

ROSS: It's a risk in more ways than one.

George has a long arm.

FRANCIS: To hell with George.

ROSS: And you could well lose your money.

Well, I like a gamble.

One can gamble on a man as well as a mine.

Well, I can't guarantee the mine.

If that's how you feel, let's shake hands on it.

Ross, before you take this forward, there are certain things I should tell you.

Past things?

And I shouldn't feel that I could... proceed unless you were fully apprised of...

If it's the past, let's forget it.

I don't think I want to hear it.

Well, if that's the case, I don't think I want to hear it myself!

To the Poldarks.

The Poldarks.

Mr. Ross won't like it.

Mr. Ross won't be told, will he?

No, mistress.

Will it just be the two of you?

No other shareholders?

None whatsoever.

There is one further point.

I wish my shares in the mine to be vested in my son's name.

But he's still a child, isn't he?

Yes, but if George Warleggan learns of our partnership, he may try to get at Ross through me.

But if the shares belong to Geoffrey Charles, well, then, George cannot touch them.

I've a fancy to buy a nosegay for Elizabeth.

Shall we meet at the Red Lion, then ride home together?

By all means.

(barking) (barking) GEORGE: You may be interested to know I've just purchased more shares in Wheal Leisure.

I wish you joy of them.

So the rumors are true?

You and Francis are going into business together?

I see you have your ear to the ground.

Or should I say to the keyhole?

(laughs) I'm surprised to hear you're pinning your hopes on Wheal Grace.

What do you hope to find there-- gold?

No.

Freedom to call our souls our own.

I suppose you know where Francis got the money he's investing?

Yes, and we're very much obliged to you, George.

Yes, we paid it to him for services rendered.

In exchange for the names of the Carnmore Copper Company shareholders.

600 pounds, or should I say 30 pieces of silver?

MAN: Hey!

Hey, there!

Stop it!

Hey there!

(loud crash) MAN: Get out!

Sir?

(door closes) (boat creaking) (groaning) Could it be true?

Well, Francis certainly had the money from George.

And it's clear to me he had something on his conscience.

But the thought that he'd deliberately sell my secrets to George?

And if it's true, how can I go into business with him?

But if you accuse him and you're wrong...

He'll never forgive me.

So either way, the partnership is doomed.

BLAMEY: Captain Poldark?

Captain Blamey!

You've been in the wars?

My surgeon has patched me up.

Dr. Dwight Enys, Captain Andrew Blamey-- my cousin Verity's husband.

Your servant, sir.

And yours, sir.

If you're sure you'll survive, I've other patients to attend to.

Dwight!

There is one further service you can render me.

I don't think you're at all like your father, are you, my dear?

No, ma'am.

I favor my mother.

She was very beautiful.

More so than... After she died, people tried to poison me against her.

But I know better.

She was a saint.

Of course.

And I know I could never replace her.

But I hope you'll come to look upon me as a loving friend.

Is Verity well?

Exceedingly.

Well, that's not entirely true.

She tries to conceal it, but I know she grieves the loss of her family.

And I am the last person to intervene.

You are.

FRANCIS: Enys told me to come say hello.

Apparently you're barred from the Red Lion.

You!

Walk with us, Francis.

You look as if you need the air.

Thank you, I will not trouble you in this company.

Francis, this is the last moment to wipe out the past.

My, um... ...sister seems to find her new life agreeable.

I will never give her cause to think otherwise.

Not that she takes account of my approval.

She would dearly love it.

That's why I also desire it.

I suppose you've heard of my cousin's encounter with George Warleggan?

Threw him across the Red Lion and broke his nose!

Not quite.

I congratulate you.

I've wished to do the same myself.

BLAMEY: Verity told me about a developing feud.

What was the cause of the quarrel today?

I took a dislike to his neck-cloth.

(laughing) Ow!

(groaning) Time to go.

Time to go home.

(exhaling) Ow!

(door opens) Oh, Andrew, I can't bear it!

Esther despises me.

When James comes, pray excuse me.

I cannot face both of them together!

My dear, this is James.

My son.

Good day to you, ma'am!

I've heard a deal of good about you!

(kisses) You'll pardon the liberty, ma'am, but one don't get a new mother every day of the week!

Come down, Esther!

I know you'll be sulking, but this is our family now, so it's well to get used to it.

Do you have any rum, ma'am?

I've a powerful thirst on me.

Of course!

ELIZABETH: You spoke to him?

Mm.

Civilly?

And shook his hand.

(groaning) Demelza?

Demelza?

Garrick?

Where's Garrick?

Sir, I told mistress not to go, but...

Prudie?!

You let her go?

Ye ever try to stop her?

(shouting in pain) Give me the oars, Demelza!

I can manage!

Give me the oars!

You are the most stubborn, pigheaded... Oh, I am?!

Where would you be if I hadn't come along?

Where would you be if I hadn't come along?!

Drinking and brawling and dodging the noose... Let's examine my failings at a more convenient time, shall we?

Come on!

Oh, Judas!

Stop wriggling.

You're hateful!

You're infuriating!

I could crown you.

By all means!

Once you've delivered our child.

(footsteps) You have a son.

(baby crying) ♪ ♪ GEORGE: Miss Penvenen!

(horse neighing) You're surely not returning to London?

Help me to change her mind, George.

CAROLINE: Don't trouble yourself.

I must return to civilization.

One can only take so many barbarians!

Dr. Enys, I've ordered more oranges.

Oranges?

Goodbye, Dwight.

Such a quaint name.

I wonder if we'll ever meet again.

Drive on.

DEMELZA: Wheal Grace.

I never thought I'd see the day.

Nor I.

Nor any of us.

To the Poldarks.

And Wheal Grace.

ALL: The Poldarks!

And Wheal Grace!

Shall we go have a look round?

Yes.

My father named this mine after my mother.

He did love her.

He did.

Yet folks said he was a wastrel.

(laughs) While she lived, she kept him steady.

He set his course by her.

Like the North Star.

Like the North Star.

But I have no such need.

The North Star is not the brightest in the sky.

Well, what is?

The Dog Star.

Which is fitting, since I found my star in a dog fight.

(laughs) Next time on Masterpiece.

FRANCIS: He's been arrested?

MAN: There's talk of an informer.

DEMELZA: To think of one of our own betraying us.

Are you not afeared?

I'll be on my guard.

Cannot a woman love two men?

Cannot a man love two women?

GEORGE: Ross signed a promissory note for a thousand pounds.

He plunges from one disaster to another and blames me for all of them.

"Poldark," next time on Masterpiece.

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Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org