All language subtitles for 3 Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrelllish

My government
will assist you in any way you wish.

Mr Segundus has it in mind
to establish a school for magicians.

I think this will suit our purpose nicely.

You should know that Gilbert Norrell
does not look favourably on other magicians.

But you are his equal, Mr Strange.

You are his equal.

Look at what one magician
has been able to accomplish.

Only consider what two might do.

No, I must not go to sleep!

- The doctors found nothing?
- I'm sorry. Magic cannot cure madness.

Send him to Portugal? I'm astonished
you would even suggest such a thing.

Every man must be prepared to make sacrifices
for his country in time of war.

Jonathan, when I saw Lady Pole
at Harley Street,

- I promised her I should tell you something.
- What is it?

- She told me that...
- He awoke to find the carpet

covered in legions of tiny people, about
two inches high. They rode white polecats.

Lady Pole is not in her wits.

She hates Mr Norrell, Jonathan.

Mr Strange should know
what kind of a man he is dealing with.

- What a strikingly attractive woman.
- Sir...

The bargain is done.

Half her life.

I have need of new companions.

Lady Pole.

Lady Pole!

Mrs Strange!

Oh, do you visit Lady Pole?

How very Christian of you.

How is she?

She's very well.

Sir Walter puts me off with one excuse
after another. It is always the same.

Her Ladyship is unwell or a little better,
but never quite well enough to see anybody.

Apart from you, it would seem.

If she is ill, then, of course,
the rabble must be kept away,

but I saw her when she was a corpse.

Oh, yes.

You know some people think that
her resurrection

has made her proud and unwilling
to mix with ordinary mortals,

but I think the truth is quite different.

I think it has bred in her
a taste for morbid experiences.

What do you say?

I beg your pardon, Mr Drawlight,

but I'm quite unable to give you
the information that you require.

It'll be found out in the end.

I always find it out.

Odious, odious little man.

I am cheered to see you so occupied, my Lady.

This would look very pretty
with a little flower sewed on the sleeve.

You may cut up those dresses.

But they are so very fine.

Perhaps. I have a more important use
for them now.

- Is this your wedding dress?
- Cut it up.

M... My Lady, it may seem a long time distant,
but you may have a daughter one day.

- It would give you great sorrow...
- I will have no daughter.

I would not offer up a child,
least of all a little girl.

They save up all their children to pay
off their tithes to the Lord of Hell.

What does your Ladyship sew?

Lost-Hope.

And who do you sew it for?

For you.

She is as secret as the grave, sir.

There is no gossip to be had about Lady Pole
anywhere in town.

I fear we shall never discover her secrets.

There.

May I...?

Well, if you're done with me relieving folks of
letters, I'll be off to see a man about a school.

Mrs Strange.

Oh, Mr...

How is your husband?

Is he still... wherever he is?

I, er...

I have not heard from him.

He is sure to be bored at home, Madam,
as soon as he has tasted war.

Over here.

Excuse me? Excuse me?
Hello, I'm the magician.

I...I wonder where in Lisbon
I might find Wellington?

Lord Wellington is not in Lisbon.

- Well, where am I to find him?
- Lord Wellington does not stay in one place, sir.

Lord Wellington goes wherever he is needed
and Lord Wellington is needed everywhere.

His Lordship's in the Lines, sir.

Ah, the Lines.

Capital, capital.

Altogether. Come on.

Can we get one of your friends
and find out what the Lines are?

...men, keep up at the rear!

Ah, excuse me, my good man. Er...

Yes.

Er... Excuse me, I say...

Winespill! The gunpowder!

- Winespill!
- Yes, sir. Right away, sir.

Hello.

I'm the magician.

Are you indeed?

- Winespill!
- Yes, sir!

Do you by any chance know when
Lord Wellington will come back?

- I do not. Lord Wellington is...
- In the Lines, yes. Yes, I know.

They're only shooting squirrels.

Norrell's quite correct. The position of
magician is by no means well enough respected.

Winespill!

I have them, sir.

Some idiot was sitting in front.

Attention!

My orders were perfectly clear. I think you were
to take the cannon into the caves at Cartaxo.

- In fairness to ourselves...
- Senator Hawkins, ask him how he considers

- we feed 200 men on eight chickens.
- Yes, my Lord.

You and the Portuguese drew attention to
the convoy, got my new artillery captured.

I had considered you
my best Intelligence Officer, Grant.

I'm gravely disappointed...
Who the devil do you think you are?

- The magician, my Lord.
- Norris?

Erm, Norrell, my Lord, but he is in London.
I am Strange.

Indeed.

Grant, talk to Capitán Saornil
and the Guerrilleros.

Offer as much gold as
they can fill their pockets with.

- I must have those guns for the advance.
- My Lord. My Lord...

What I chiefly require, sir,
is more artillery and more men.

- Can you make them appear?
- It is an interesting question.

- In the book De Generibus Artium Magicarum...
- I don't care about the book, sir.

Can you make them appear or not?

I can make it rain, my Lord.

It's rained all winter.
It's only just stopped raining.

You and this other gentleman
have been a nuisance to the army.

These visions you've shown the ministers
convinced them

they know how matters stand in Portugal.
They do not.

Only I know what
needs to be done in Portugal, sir,

because only I am acquainted with
all the circumstances.

What I say is I have no
need of a magician here.

I could bring down a plague of locusts
upon the French, my Lord, or... or frogs.

You'd do just as good to drop roast chickens
on them, sir! Good night!

It looks very splendid, sir.

Childermass.

You cannot do this, sirs.

You must give up this notion.

He'll get to know, sirs, and it would be better
that you wind up the business before he does.

- I did not sign that agreement.
- You must choose some other business.

Not a school for magicians.

The next time I hear that a lord or a lady has
need of such a place, I'll send them your way.

I do not want another kind of business.

I'll be seeing you.

This is tyranny, sir.

- This is tyranny, pure and plain!
- Damn you, sir, and damn Mr Norrell!

This way of doing business
will come back and haunt him!

Well, my Lady,
your tapestry has come a long way.

It is for you.

To show the freedom
that has been taken from me.

Come closer, I will show you.

So this is Stephen.

This is Stephen, the King to be.

Here I am with a rose at my mouth.

The reason I cannot speak clearly of it.

Will you write to your husband of this?

I write to my husband of everything.

I hope my letters cheer him.

One from him would certainly cheer me.

Oh, we live in blackness and misery
all the days of our lives.

My Lady, you are surrounded
by many wonderful things.

The love of your husband.

Do you not consider it a blessing?

My husband's love
has never done me any good.

Never shortened a dreary ball
by so much as a minute.

Do you consider your husband's love
to have ever saved you from anything?

Well, I think I am more in
the habit of saving him.

Mr Strange is not the most patient of men.
Often, when people hector him about magic...

You will tell him. You
will write to Mr Strange.

If your Ladyship wishes, of course.

Yes.

He is the King of Lost-Hope.

It's very striking.

I thought I had explained myself.

- I am making it for you.
- And I am very flattered...

It is not a present for you
because you are my friend.

It is because you are
the only person who will see me.

- It is because your husband is who he is.
- My Lady!

- Ssh, Stephen!
- Perhaps I should, erm...

Mrs Strange, if I cannot say it to you,
I must show it.

- Lady Pole is there.
- Mm-hm.

Tell your husband! Stephen, does she see?

- She doesn't see.
- My Lady...

She doesn’t see.

It is not easy for me to ask,

Sir Walter, I...

I hope you do not take it amiss.

But it is a very hard thing
fora lady, or anyone,

to fix their mind upon cheerful thoughts when
their circumstances are so enclosed and dreary.

Do you suppose I have not done
everything I can for my wife?

- I merely...
- She does not have the will to go out.

Bells, crowds, society...
all these things distress her.

And if...

Forgive me, Mrs Strange,
this is to remain strictly between ourselves.

If she is allowed freedom to go about the house,
she has more than once hurl herself very badly.

Can you not speak to Mr Norrell?

Mr Norrell says that magic
cannot cure... madness.

- She was not mad before the magic.
- She was dead, madam.

Perhaps there was some irregularity
with the spell?

I asked Mr Strange about that.

He could not bring himself
to broach the subject with his tutor.

Your wife has asked me
to write to my husband, sir, and to tell him,

well, of the details of her...

To the world beyond the doors
of Harley Street, madam,

beyond ourselves, Norrell and her doctors,
my wife is merely unwell.

You promised when you asked it you might visit
her that you would say nothing of what she told.

I expect you to keep that promise.
Even between husband and wife.

Good afternoon.

Whatever are we doing here, sir?
This is the magician's house.

Why, to discover her heart's desires, Stephen.

The very thing that she
would give her world for.

Sir, must you take people like this?

From the order of their house,
from those who love them?

Oh, who loves her, Stephen?

Not the magician, he has abandoned her.

Who loves Lady Pole
with her dreary disposition?

And who loves you?

No, it is best for you
all to be at my house...

...where it is known you are of kingly birth
and no-one frowns at this.

I am so very tired, sir.

We must listen to her, Stephen.

We must pay very close attention to
what she says and what she does.

We must find the correct moment.

And when we have it...

...we can carry her to Lost-Hope,
where she will be loved and admired...

...as no man has loved or admired her before.

Evening, gentlemen.

Evening, Ned, Winespill.

A devil of a job
keeping the dust out of one's tobacco.

It is, sir.

Would you like some of mine?

Thank you, sir. Drink, sir?

Thirsty?

Thank you.

Winespill, what is it that you chiefly desire?

What could a chap help you with?

- Well, I know it is an odd question...
- Magic woman, sir.

- Toasted bloody cheese.
- Here, sir.

Oh, thank you, Jeremy.

Excuse me, sir?

You're the fella with all the books, isn't it?

Do... Do you need magic?

Erm, no.

Sir...

"My dearest Ned...

It pains my heart to say it
to you, my love, but...“

But what?

"...but I have spoiled our wedding china,
by spilling a pan of jam upon it."

Bloody old bitch.

Who is it, then?

Thomas Potter, eh?

- Bloody Thomas Potter.
- Sorry, Ned.

I'm expecting a parcel.

- Does she not say anything about my boots?
- Boots?

I asked her to send new boots, sir.

I'm sorry, she...

She merely sends her love.

Damn Portuguesey roads,
they tear a man's boots to ribbons.

What's the use in love
when she could have sent boots?

Break it up, lads.

Heads down. Heads down.

Good night, sir.

Good night.

Bring it with you.

Reverend Wilson called out,
"Vive la France!"

Ah, been sleeping in the mountains, have you?

- Have some breakfast.
- Thank you, my Lord.

How do you like the war, Mr erm...?

Oh, it was rather confusing at first,
but I grow used to it.

I have been robbed once.

I have been shot at once.

Once I found a Frenchman in the tent
and had to chase him out.

And once the house I was sleeping in
was set on fire.

- By the French?
- No. No, sir. By the English.

It was a company of the 43rd
who were very cold that night.

Set fire to the house to warm themselves.

Oh, that always happens.

Finest fellows in the world, the British Army.

I heard your Lordship refers to them as
"The scum of the earth.'

Well, they’re both.

At one and the same time.

We've been talking, arguing rather,
about magic, how it's done.

Major Grant here says you and this other chap
have given every word in the Bible a number.

And then you think of words to make up a spell
and you add up the numbers and then...

That... That is not what I said, my Lord.
You have not understood at all.

I'm afraid I've done nothing resembling it.

It seems rather complicated
and I do not think it would work.

As to doing magic, my Lord,

there are many procedures,
as many I dare say, as for making war.

Good and evil.

Can a magician kill a man by magic?

I suppose a magician might,
but a gentleman never could.

This road, sir,
which you have been so good as to offer us.

What sort of road would it be?

Give me Stokesy, Jeremy.

Very good.

Thai should do it.

Come on, Jeremy.

No, really, I have hardly any criticisms
to make. It's an excellent road.

Only make it a little straighter tomorrow,
it you will, Merlin.

Er... Not Merlin, my Lord, if you please.

- Why ever not?
- Well...

Merlin, if indeed he existed,
was a very vagabonding type, not...

not the modern kind of magician at all.

Mr Norrell and I are endeavouring
to make magic respectable, my Lord.

You'll have a job, sir. This is war.

Besides, I've got to call you something.

- Well... Strange?
- Ah.

Merlin it is, then.

Move on!

What are you tutting at?

- This post-boy, is he to be trusted?
- I'm giving him a pound a week.

What does the letter say?

A deal about love.

He writes to her of love and doggerel poems,

she writes to him of heartache and dresses...

I'm not easy about this business, Mr Norrell.

I have to say it.

There, you have said it.

I want to know what the matter is...

...if you wish my assistance in these matters.

These concerns are not frivolous or prurient,
Childermass.

I should think you knew me better.

I know you very well.

I am concerned Lady Pole...

Well, as you know she is
visited by Mrs Strange.

I am concerned that they talk.

Well, naturally they talk.

They are women.

What should they talk about
that might harm you, Mr Norrell?

If you tell it me, it may be I can help.

There is something...

There's another encampment
over the other side of the forest, my Lord.

French soldiers of the 9th, and they have
with them all of the armaments from Cartaxo.

- My cannon? My pretty new artillery?
- Exactly so, my Lord.

Now, if we were to take the 7th
up along the hill...

That would take too much time. I'm in a hurry.
Where's the magician?

Here, sir.

I would counsel against placing
too much reliance...

Yes, Grant, I'm sure you would.
Ah, there you are.

There, the assorted gentlemen
of the 7th Division

and here, General D'Erlon's French,
with their backs to us.

Now, if you'd be so kind
as to move this forest,

I think we might very well give them
an unpleasant surprise.

- A forest, my Lord?
- Mm.

That is a different kind
of magic to that which...

It is not modern magic.

- So?
- It is not straightforward.

I would think one would have to negotiate
with the trees.

You've moved churches, rivers and so forth.

I cannot think it would be so difficult
to move a forest.

These are living things, my Lord.
They will have humours of their own.

They may not care- for soldiers.

Perhaps we have reached the limits of
your abilities, Mr Strange.

Grant, daylight Take a few men,
escort Mr Strange into the forest.

Do your best to see he's not shot.

- At least till he's moved it.
- My Lord.

We wait your convenience, sir.

- Jeremy, pack my books.
- Which ones, sir?

All of them.

Must you crunch and crackle like that,
Mr Strange?

I have no wish to disturb the French.

It is lunchtime. They will not be happy.

I must find the oldest tree.

I can't see much of an age from here.

Perhaps we should cut them all down
and count the rings.

This one, perhaps?

Jeremy.

Heavensy.

(Indistinct chatter in French}

Is he... talking to the trees?

His Lordship asked you to move these trees,
not lead them in song.

Do your work quietly, sir.

I am trying.

- Les Anglaises sont là.
- Mr Strange...

- Quiet.
- You have drawn their notice!

Quiet!

Commence firing!

On your right, fire!

- Steady!
- Stand fast!

Mr Strange, move this forest!

- Can I not call down a mist?
- No.

They are turning their cannon about.
Follow your orders.

Jeremy, find me Ormskirk.

Artillery!

Hold your places!

Mark your target.

Jeremy.

Oh, sir. Your books...

I'm sorry for it, sir.

Here is one that's left.

Stand your ground!

Captain, let's fill this flank!

Hold your places!

Mark your target.

Mr Strange.
Mr Strange, this mist, is it yours?

Mr Strange!

General D'Erlon
and the French have fled, my Lord.

Singing trees and sudden miasmas
seem to be too much for them.

Taking my cannon with them.

I did not ask for mist, Merlin.
I asked you to move those trees.

I lost my books, my Lord. I apologise.
I've exhausted everything I know.

- I've a good mind to put you on a charge.
- Well, do it!

You've made me rely upon you.
I will not have you let me down again.

I regularly demand the impossible of
my engineers, my generals and my officers.

I see no reason
to make an exception in your case.

- I'm at the limit of my magic.
- Find other magic!

Do not give yourself too much grief.

Your mist may have lost him his cannon,
but it saved our lives.

Most of us.

Come.

Mackenzie has a burial detail.

He'll see your man right.

How has she been, Stephen?

Madam, I know it's not my place,
but may I speak frankly?

Of course.

I do not think it's wise for you
to visit her Ladyship.

I thought you were my
friend in this, Mr Black.

I am your friend, please believe it...

...but I fear there is danger for you.

Lady Pole... Madam, please, will you help me?

Oh, God.

My God.

Get Sir Walter.

My dear Sir Walter.

Er, Sir Walter, if you'd be so kind...

Please excuse me.

Thank you.

What is your distress, madam?

I am sad for my friend.

Why in the world would you be sad for her?

Because she is beset by such honors.

Lady Pole has no horrors.

She merely has a rose at her mouth.

A rose?

Why, I could take that away...
as easy as breathing.

What do you mean?

That I could remove what they please to call
my Lady's madness.

And how would you do that?

I would need your help, madam.

Your assent.

But I should not ask for anything

that would not be exquisitely
desirable to you.

You ask for something in return, sir?

If you can do such a thing... If it is within your
power to help, then, for the love of God, do it.

But do not make a bargain of my friend.

You will forgive me, sir.

We should not meet again
without my husband present.

General Caffarelli was intending to bring
the cannon to the French at Victoria.

The good news is that the
cannon never arrived.

Caffarelli made up his escort of
the first 30 soldiers that came to hand.

Ten of those 30 were Neapolitan.

- Were they indeed?
- My view's that they killed the others

- and will sell the cannon to the highest bidder.
- Why have we not heard from them?

They have been sending messages to relatives
in the French army to desert and join them.

They believe,
with the money they will get for the cannon,

they will all be able lo sail back to Naples
together in a golden ship.

They do not wish to face
their mothers and aunts

without bringing their
relatives back with them.

I've heard Italian women are fierce.

But we cannot wait for
100 Neapolitans to desert.

All we need do, my Lord, is find
some Neapolitans and question them.

They will have been informed where
the thieves are and where they put the guns.

The only Neapolitans we've encountered
have been dead ones.

Sir, make yourself useful.

I require a vision of
some Neapolitans and some guns.

As I said, my Lord, visions are precisely the
wrong kind of magic for this sort of thing.

I must have the location of my guns by
morning. Kindly bend yourself to it.

Do you recognise anything, Merlin?

Olive groves and pine trees.

Could be anywhere within a hundred miles.

Perhaps they're saying something useful.

I do not understand the language.

It mostly concerns the food they wish they were
eating and the charms of their absent wives.

Are you married, Major Grant?

A soldier has no business marrying, sir.
It is unfair on the man and unfair on the wife.

You did not think to come to war
for jokes and picnics, Mr Strange?

I did not consider it.

I'm sorry, Major Grant,
I can think of nothing else.

Perhaps you have some Neapolitans
among the prisoners?

No, sir, we do not.
You might expect that we checked.

We have some dead ones,
tor all the good that will do us.

What? What is it?

The magic I will do this night
is not... modem magic.

In fact it is very ancient.

It is the magic of the Raven King.

I do not wish it to be
mentioned in dispatches.

You have my word, Merlin.

Enough.

That's enough.

Is that for the magic?

It is for the smell.

I thought I told you no-one was
to interfere with these corpses.

None of the lads has touched them, Mr Strange.

I do not see they are so mutilated.
Does it matter it they are?

I suppose not, only I have to look at them.

Sharp knife, please, Ned.

Borrowed life.

Borrowed life.

Borrowed life.

Dear God! What language is that?

I believe it maybe one
of the dialects of Hell.

They've learnt it very quickly.

Can you speak this language?

- Signore.
- Is that Italian?

- Be my guest.
- Ah, that's more like it.

Come along, Grant,
ask them where our guns are.

(Indistinct utterance in Italian}

San Giacomo.

We have it, sir. It's in a small town
called San Giacomo on the road to Vittoria.

They've hidden it by the church.

We shall have the guns by morning.

This is it, dear Merlin!

- That was easy. Come on.
- Good man, Merlin.

- My Lady.
- You. You have murdered me.

- That was not my intention.
- Do you know what you did, sir?

Madam, I was tricked.

Were it nor for
the very particular circumstances, I would...

What I did, I did to further the cause of
English magic and to help win this war

- in which innocent people must suffer too.
- What can be done?

I cannot free you of this enchantment.

No!

You have opened a door to Hell
and invited the Devil into England.

Ssh! I beg you. I beg you
to stop trying to persuade Mrs Strange,

or anyone else, to understand
your predicament, please.

Please, do not try to communicate
using tapestries or the like.

It cannot do you any good
and it may cause you further harm.

- And it... Ow!
- Further harm?

How old are you, my Lady? Forgive me.

I am 19.

I may tell you that you will live
another 75 years under these circumstances.

- No. No!
- I'm sorry.

Mr Norrell!

Mr Norrell!

Mr Norrell!

- Mr Norrell!
- Nothing at all has changed.

- No!
- Thank you for your help, sir.

No!

Nothing can be gained by her excitement.

I understand that certain ladies wish to occupy
themselves in what they consider charity.

It seems to me that all that has been achieved
has been to harm her Ladyship even further.

I worry that these two ladies merely...

...exercise one another's emotion.

I would suggest that these
visits are curtailed.

Merlin?

Merlin? Merlin, where are you?

- What are you doing up there?
- I do not know how to make them dead again.

Set them loose
and let them wander in the bushes.

We have the French on the run
and we need to press on.

His Lordship is asking for you.
We've not seen you in days, man.

Look at them, poor wretches.

What do they say?

They, er... plead with you
not to send them back to Hell.

They ask you to send them home
to their little sons and daughters.

There is such power in this magic.

I cannot reverse it. I've tried everything.

Everything?

O, signore.

Merlin, oblige me by leaving off
trying to kill people who are already dead,

and moving the bridge at
the end of the valley.

The bridge, sir, away from General D'Erlon's
French and where my cannons may cross.

Victory is within our sights

and we may lance this Spanish ulcer
and return home to our wives and mistresses.

That is an order.

At your command, my Lord.

Grant, lock these corpses in
and set the mill on fire.

- They're distracting my magician.
- My Lord.

I'll lead your horse around, sir.

Thank you, Winespill.

May I come in?

What is the matter, Stephen?

I am instructed that
Lady Pole is not to receive visitors.

Let me through, Stephen. This is ridiculous.

Madam, please.

- Believe me when I tell you that it is for the best.
- Stephen...

Madam, in 1349,
there was a parson called Dundridge.

He was followed by a tiny man that dragged him
into a pot to meet his many wives.

I'm sorry, madam.

You were right.

It's best she does not come.

I have been meaning to offer you an apology,
Stephen, and an explanation.

No explanation is necessary, sir.

My recent concern for the magicians wife

has rather prevented us discussing
the matter of you becoming a king.

But I have begun to realise
how very useful such a thing might be.

It has been the cruellest thing in the world,
how she has spurned me.

I cannot break her resolve.

The husband will soon return

and I am sorry to say,
a magician is not an easy thing to kill.

Especially not one
who seems intent on monopolising me.

But, if you were to be a king...

Sir, I have been for some years the king
of my own little land in Harley Street.

I flatter myself,
known amongst the best servants in London.

If you wish to do me a kindness...

It is not unusual, Stephen,
for a slave to take his master's side.

The Raven King himself began life
as a nameless slave

in a fairy kingdom and rose to great heights.

I am not a slave, sir.

No man who stands on English soil
can be a slave.

Sir Walter's father, he was kind to me.

He had me christened and educated.

Christened?

What was the name your mother gave you?

I...

I don't know.

Indeed.

Come.

Out of my love for you, Stephen,

I have prised guts out of dying men
to discover your future.

Magic cannot tell the future,
but it can throw shadows.

It is said you are to kill the king
and take his place.

What is this place?

Why, this is the place of your birth, Stephen!

There is your mother...

...about to whisper your name.

My...

...mother.

This is the ship of Sir Walter's family,

where you were born a slave
and your mother died a slave.

This is what has been done to you.

This is what has been taken from you.

I can make you king.

Oh, madam...

What is it?

Man?

I am home.

Oh!

Oh, God...

Oh, G...

Jonathan, I cannot keep my countenance
if you stare at me like that.

Sorry to disappoint you,
but you never did look at me so often.

You always had your nose
in some dusty old book.

I had entirely forgotten
how quarrelsome you are, Mrs Strange.

Jonathan...

Beg your pardon, sir. Mr Norrell to see you.

Some water!

It's all very well for you, Henry,
you have periodicals to edit.

You're writing your book about him.
I need some new lorgnettes.

Answer some of his letters,
I will give you a guinea.

Mr Norrell does not accept commissions.
What on earth are you doing?

- Has Strange been here?
- Of course he's not.

Where's Norrell?

Someone is doing magic here.

Childermass.

I'm so glad that you're home, sir.
I am so relieved.

Lascelles and Drawlight
have been in my house a great deal.

I'm sure of it.

But there is no talking to them of magic. No.

No, you must come to my house tomorrow.
You must...

Thank you. You must come for breakfast, sir.

And you can tell me in great detail

all the different types of magic that
you employed and you can return my books.

Yes.

Yes...

...your books.

- It's in the square.
- What on earth are you talking about?

- What is in the square?
- Magic.

What are you doing, man?

Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.

It's Mr Norrell's carriage.

Madam! Madam!

Wait!

Sir!

Mr Norrell.

Sir!

No!

No!

No! No!

No! Mr Norrell!