All language subtitles for Jonathan.Strange.&.Mr.Norrell.S01E01.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

- He's a magician.
- No, he smells too nice.

Good morning.

Your book, sir.

I'm obliged to you.

Some years ago,
there was,

in the city of York,
a society of magicians.

They met up on the third
Wednesday of every month

and read each other long,
dull papers

upon the history
of English magic.

They were gentlemen magicians,

which is to say they had never
harmed anyone by magic.

Nor ever done anyone
the slightest good.

In fact to own the truth,

not one of these magicians had
ever cast the smallest spell.

Nor by magic caused one
leaf to tremble upon a tree,

made one mote of dust
alter its course

or changed a single hair
upon anyone's head.

With this one
minor reservation,

they enjoyed a reputation

as some of the wisest and most
magical gentlemen

in Yorkshire.

Mister...

- Mr. Segundus.
- Yes, excuse me.

Er...

It has been no small inducement
in my coming to York

that your excellent

and, er, distinguished
society exists here.

Not to mention your extensive
library of magical books.

Er, I have studied magic,
gentlemen, for many years.

The histories of
the Raven King,

the great magicians
of long ago.

I've read the new publications

and even made my small
contribution to their number.

Excuse me.

But I... But I have recently
begun to wonder

why the great feats of magic

that I read about remain in
the pages of my books

and are not seen on the street
or on the battlefield.

I have begun to wonder why
modern magicians are unable

to work the magic
that they write about.

In short, gentlemen,
I wish to know,

why is magic no longer
done in England?

It is a wrong question,
Mr. Segundus.

Magicians study magic,
the history of magic.

We do not perform it.

You don't expect an astronomer
to create stars, eh?

Or a botanist to invent
new flowers, eh?

Er, it is a child's question, I
appreciate, but nevertheless...

Practical magic, sir,
is not a thing

for the gentlemen
of this society.

Nor any gentleman.

I do hope

that you have not been
trying to cast spells, sir.

You told me certainly that there
would be books coming in.

You took a guinea from me.

Good day to you, sir.

Mr. Segundus, I say...

Honeyfoot, I was there at
the Society last night.

May I?

I have made myself disagreeable.

No, sir. I think you
hit upon it quite correct.

Why is magic no longer done?

I cannot find it
answered anywhere.

Can you believe there are no
books of magic to be had...

in York!

Books about magic
are rare enough.

Books of magic.

Oh, my dear fellow, they're more
precious than rubies.

Even the Society
only has a few pages.

I have tried everywhere else.

The Society is my last throw
of the dice.

- Sir!
- We're growing stale.

We need fresh opinions.

Oh, I'm... I'm afraid that those
books have been sold, sir.

- I reserved them!
- Yes, I am sorry for it, sir.

Oh, it is no matter.

Do you have anything upon
the nature of clouds?

- Rain, atmospheres?
- Yes, sir.

Yes, I do as a matter of fact.

Oh, that's interesting. I'm most
fascinated by clouds myself.

- Keep an eye open.
- Mr. Segundus...

At least I can find the devil
who keeps swiping my books.

Ah, there!

Norrell.

Hurtfew Abbey.

It is not an age for magic.

Why then do you persist, sir?

What is it?

Tremendously dirty.

From a street magician
in London.

"A spell to join together
articles

which have been parted."

- Does it work?
- No.

For he was a vagabond,
you see.

Yellow curtain sort of fellow.

Persuaded me to part
with a rather

large sum of money for that.

And then he called me back,

said he'd tell me
a secret for nothing.

Told me that one day magic
would be restored to England

by two magicians.

Old prophecies are nonsense.

I know. But it set me
upon my present path.

We are two magicians.

John Segundus
and Mr. Honeyfoot.

Sounds well.

One would expect him to pretend
that I was one of the two,

but in the end he told me,
rather plainly,

that I was not.

Mr. Norrell?

Come in.

Watch your step, gentlemen.
The way is convoluted.

It's Mr. Honeyfoot
and Mr. Segundus

of the York Society
of Magicians.

I read your account of
the careers of Martin Pale's

fairy servants, sir.

It's a creditable piece
of work.

There was Master Fallowthought,
was there not?

You left him out. A minor
spirit, but nevertheless...

Fallowthought? I have never
even heard of him.

Forgive me, sir,
but what a library!

Yes, I forget...

Of course, he is described in
Holgarth and Pickle's

histories of their own dealings
with Master Fallowthought,

which you can
scarcely have read.

Well, you have that book?

May we... May we be
permitted to...

Nothing would be more
agreeable to me.

How to Put Questions
to the Dark

and Understand its Answers.

It's a foolish work.

This is Belasis'sInstructions!

Every copy of this was
destroyed centuries ago.

I did devote a great deal of
time to Belasis in my youth,

but no longer.

He is mystical when he
should be clear

and clear when he should
be mystical.

These are all books of magic.

Mr. Norrell, such... Surely you
will find your answer here.

- Answer?
- To a simple question, sir.

In the past magic was done
as a matter of course.

It was as much a part of this
country as the rain.

Then 300 years ago it died,
seemingly overnight.

We wish to know
why magic has fallen

from its once great state.

We wish to know why is there no
more magic done in England?

It is a wrong question, sir.

Magic is not ended in England.

I myself am quite a tolerable,
practical magician.

Well done.

Well, it is done.

Show these gentlemen
out, Childermass.

Absolute tripe.

Oh, I'm so sorry, sirs,

to see you bringing magic
into such disrepute.

This Norrell is lying.

I... I disagree.
I believe Mr. Norrell.

Did you see magic done
or did you not?

Hmm?

Gentlemen, the answer is
a simple one, eh.

We shall invite Mr. Norrell to
prove his ridiculous assertion.

To do magic for us.

And if he cannot, or will not,

to lay off
disturbing our peace of mind!

This is the hour and place he
appointed, and he doesn't come.

Mr. Norrell concedes defeat.

Not at all.

Who are you, sir?

A word or two
before you go in.

If Mr. Norrell fails to do the
magic he has promised,

he will publicly withdraw
his claim

to be a practical magician.

Indeed a magician of any sort.

And swears never to make
any such claim again.

- Here's his hand on it.
- I'm sure he needn't go so far.

We have no desire
to punish him.

However, my master only
thinks it fair to extract

the same promise
from each of you.

Should he succeed?

Well, here's the paper and there
is the stuff to sign your name.

Well, I do not believe
he can do magic, and so...

I will sign because
I believe he can.

And I hope he achieves
recognition

and will use his powers
for the good

of the nation in this time
of war.

Sir.

I will not sign.
Magic is my life, sir.

What shall I do
when it is taken from me?

We shall say Mr. Norrell's
contract

is with all members
of the Society...

except Mr. Segundus.

I saw him.
Tyranny. Tyranny.

He murdered her.
He murdered her.

We know. We know. We saw him.
We saw the font.

There was no one
to see but the stones.

The stones, the stones. He
murdered her! And no one saw.

- The statues.
- The stones. Dig up his bones.

Let him be punished
for his wickedness.

He has brought them alive.

- Usurper.
- Usurper? How dare you?

Lady Catherine.
Catherine of Winchester.

- You killed my horse, sir!
- Forever upon that damned horse.

Get you gone, Father.

My boot is on the wrong foot
and it is paining my bunion.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

I don't know!

We have not seen
the likes of that

for three centuries.

- I am sorry for it, sirs.
- Do not be.

Magic is restored to England.
I hope it can do some good.

Do you think Mr. Norrell
would be offended

if I wrote to the
London newspapers of this?

I very much think he would be.

But I rather think my master has
hidden his talent long enough.

It is time for him
to take his place.

And London is where
I shall take him.

Well, if that is how the first
magician behaves,

I dare not think what the
second will be like.

The Lord be with you.
Let us pray.

In the desolate plateau
of the Iberian Peninsula...

...and on the battlefields of
France and the low countries.

Lord, we beseech your help
in these times for our country,

fighting a godless enemy.

Lord, we ask for courage
and wisdom.

For the support of your grace

and the endurance
of your providence,

which daily
strengthens us. Amen.

Amen.

Well done, Henry.

You're using your voice
much better. More authority.

Yes, I think
you have definitely improved.

Especially the, erm...
The voice.

- Thank you, Jonathan.
- We'd saved a place for you.

Oh, I did not see.
I was at the back.

Yes. Right at the back.

Enjoying your Sunday,
Mr. Atkinson?

I've done everything you want
in the way of...

I hardly play cards,

I drink very, very little.

Scarcely more than
a bottle a day.

And, well,

I've no objection to going
to church more often.

Twice a week
if you'd like it better.

I leave such matters
to your own conscience.

I do not know.

Perhaps you don't like my going
to Bath or Brighton or...

But really the ladies there, you
have nothing to fear from them.

They are without doubt
very charming, but...

That hadn't even
occurred to me.

Oh, Arabella.

Jonathan...

I only wish that you would find
a way to occupy your time.

No one loves a holiday
better than I,

but perpetual holidays...

- Does it make you happy?
- You make me happy.

A man needs an occupation,
Jonathan.

Arabella, you know perfectly
well that my father...

I'm going away.

What?

With Henry, to his new parish.
Help him settle.

Oh. I'd not thought to do this
now, but I see I must act.

Jonathan...

Do not act. Think.

I'll not be gone forever.

It is cruel, sir,
for a fellow of my age

to be kept from taking up any
useful position in the world.

It is no wonder that I go
to seed in this manner

of which you so
desperately disapprove.

Which useful position
had you in mind?

Any, sir. Give it to me
and I shall fill it.

One more of those and you'll
lose your position, sir.

As for you, let me see...
You have...

Good God, man.

For pity's sake, Father.
Have him close the window.

That man is clearly ill.

Open all the windows.
I'm not blind, my son.

This clergyman's girl wishes
you to be a man of destiny.

She does not know that you,
like your mother,

are weak and skittish

and doomed to fulfil no function

more useful than that
of a clothes horse.

- My dear fellow.
- Leave him!

On your feet, sir.
Stand beside the window.

And you, sir, you've proved
yourself a failure

in everything you've done.

And you shall have
no assistance

in finding any occupation

whilst I am yet living and
master in this house.

I had thought to ask your
permission to marry your sister.

But I rather think it is her
permission I'd struggle to get.

Have some brandy in that, Henry.
It makes it taste much better.

It is Sunday, Jonathan.
I have a carriage to catch.

Arabella loves you, she merely--

I have tried.

She just wishes you to
have purpose.

I have tried to
buy an ironworks,

the smelting room
gave me a headache.

I have tried to establish
a business

to collect fossils
at Lyme Regis.

- Yes.
- Much too rainy. Have you...

Have you been to Lyme Regis?

Cannot your father--

My father delights
in torturing me,

as he tortures his servants.

As he tortured my mother.

Jonathan. God will...

A way will become clear
to you, Jonathan.

All I've ever truly wished for
is your sister.

It often happens
in the most unexpected of ways.

Goodbye, Jonathan.

Do not drown yourself.

I'll have but one more.

What?

I fear there's been a quarrel.
The door, it's quite jammed.

The poor fellow is ill!

It's as cold as
a Scotsman's chimney.

Father!

Father?

She regrets
her absence in Cumberland.

She does not like to
think of me being

alone and friendless
at such a time.

Well, I have an estate to run.

I'm not to be without
an occupation now.

What sort of an interval
do you think is appropriate?

- Eh?
- For me to ride up there

and ask for her hand, Jeremy.
To Cumberland.

What sort of period of
mourning do you think is fit?

A month? Two weeks?
Three days?

"And Mr. Norrell having taken a
London house for the season..."

I have not taken it, I have
bought it. 210 guineas.

"Having taken a London house
for the season

leaves us hungry to see which,

if any, new wonders
he will perform

after the miracle of York."

Miracle? The miracle of York.

"Are we to see the proof of
his genius with our own eyes?

Has magic truly returned,

or is Mr. Norrell simply
a wealthier version

of the familiar conjurer in
his yellow-curtained tent?"

I have never... I have contented
with this for 40 years.

Sniggers and disapproval.

Well, this is why we have
come here, is it not?

We have come to change that.

The Star has reprinted

Mr. Segundus's letter
with illustrations.

Why is London
so expensive? So noisy?

And the smell.

Is that supposed to be me?
With a beard? And a pointy hat!

They intend
no disrespect, sir.

That is what most folk believe
a magician to look like.

The magic of the old country.

The magic of the Raven King,
300 years gone,

and turned to feathers.

The Raven King.

These men give the practice of
magic such an appalling name.

Well, if nothing else, sir,

you should pull that picture
out of their heads.

Whoa!

Listen. This is what
you have worked for.

This is your great opportunity.
If all goes as it should here,

when folk think of a magician...

They will think of myself.

Courage, sir. And charm.

He is the Secretary
of State for War.

Remember what a gift
it is that you offer,

then I am sure
he will be your friend.

You, sir, are an embarrassment

to your party and
to this whole house.

Our forces are hopelessly
outnumbered by the French.

We stay in Salamanca and
be massacred

or lead our troops
over the mountains

and leave them to the snow.

This is a final disgrace.

The final act of a criminally
incompetent government.

Shame upon you. Shame!

Order.
Sir Walter Pole.

The honorable gentleman is
well known

for his excellent impromptu
speeches,

and it is good to know that
the time he spends

preparing them is not wasted.

I would have been happy
to hear a deal less of it.

But as Napoleon himself
has said,

you should never interrupt
your enemy

when he is making a mistake.

There will be no retreat
from Salamanca.

But I am a man of my word and a
custodian of English blood.

There will be no retreat.

- Well done, Sir Walter.
- Thank you, Albright.

Sir Walter.

Sir Walter. Sir Walt...

What assistance
may I be to you, sir?

I have an appointment with
Sir Walter to talk about...

Magic.

Are you the magician?
Mr. Norris?

Norrell.

Sir Walter begs humbly
that he may receive you

at his private residence.

Aha, I'm very glad to
meet you, sir.

It seems London talks
of little else,

but the extraordinary
Mr. Norrell. Please.

Mr. Norrell is a magician,
ma'am.

A person of great reputation in
his native county of Yorkshire.

And where are your
fairy servants, sir?

Are they visible only to
yourself or may others see them?

Oh, er, fairies are mythological
creatures, madam.

Mythological?

I meant to say that they do
not... They did not exist

in the way
the stories have them.

They're a poisonous race.
Their help is always regretted.

It is always a heavy price.

You are not at all
what I expected, eh, Stephen?

I had not formed a picture
of Mr. Norrell, sir.

I had heard you were
a practical magician?

I hope you are not offended.

It's a great relief to see that
you are nothing of the sort.

You are a theoretical
magician, I imagine.

They say you have something
to ask me?

I...

Well, that is to say I beg
your pardon, but I am in fact

a practical, erm, magician.

But I very earnestly hope that
I will not, by this admission,

lose your good opinion.

No, by no means.

The misapprehension
under which you labor...

By which I mean, of course,

the belief that all practical
magicians are charlatans,

arises from the appalling
idleness of English magicians

in the last 300 years.

I have performed one small
feat of modern magic,

which the people of York

were kind enough to say
that they found astounding.

I am come, Sir Walter,

to offer you my help in
our present difficulties.

- You mean the war?
- Yes.

My dear sir, what has magic
to do with the war?

I believe I have heard
what you did in York

and I am sure the housewives
were very grateful.

But I can scarcely see how such
magic may be applied to the war.

True enough, soldiers get
very dirty.

Sir, I made half-a-hundred stone
figures talk in York Minster.

It was nothing to do
with housewives.

- My fiancee, Mrs. Wintertowne.
- Oh, er, enchante, miss.

Very fond of magic myself.

There's a... There's a wonderful
street magician, Vinculus,

- he's all lies and doom...
- Oh, no, no.

Street magicians
are the very worst.

All magicians are vagabonds.

My dear Emma is to be married
to Sir Walter

at St. George's
in ten days' time.

Many congratulations.

I am often ill myself.

I find some warm
lemon and nutmeg...

Mr. Norrell, I'm not sure what
help you hope to offer us.

I'm sorry to say,
it will not do.

Magic is not respectable, sir.

The government cannot
meddle in such things.

Frankly, had I better understood

what you were proposing
to offer,

I would not have
agreed to meet you.

- How'd it go?
- Very well.

- Tolerably well.
- As bad as that, eh?

Did you do any magic for him?

This is not the way
to the house.

Hanover Square is that way.

We're going to Lady Godesdone's
house. It's a soiree.

A party? I wish to
go home and read a book.

Powerful gentlemen spend
more time at parties

than they do in Parliament.

You cannot do this from the
comfort of your own fireside.

We're not in
Yorkshire any more.

Er, excuse me.

I heard all the
ladies of Yorkshire

may put out their dirty linen
in baskets at night,

and in the morning
it is magically clean.

He is as rich as a Jew.
A wealthy uncle died,

leaving him a large estate,
Hurtfew Abbey.

It's in Yorkshire.

Wealthy uncles are in short
supply these days.

I was with him
only this morning

to avail of the wonderful magic
he's been doing.

What kind of wonderful magic
are we talking about exactly?

I know the cleaning of
laundry is common enough.

Admit it, you don't know him.

On the contrary, nobody in
London knows him better.

We came here on the expectation

of seeing something
very extraordinary,

such as we have read inThe Times.

And instead we have been forced
to make our own entertainment.

That gentleman
is reading a book!

- I beg your pardon.
- No, you do not know him as I.

Mr. Norrell has a shrewd
notion of his own value.

A gentleman who buys
a house in Hanover Square.

- I beg your pardon.
- What?

I am Mr. Norrell.

Oh, Mr. Norrell...

I can scarcely begin
to express my delight

in making your acquaintance.

I had mistook you, sir.

But now that I behold you,
I plainly see,

you have the measured
and dignified air

of a magical scholar.

Lascelles, do you not think
Mr. Norrell

has the grave and sober bearing
of a scholar?

Suppose so.

My name is Drawlight.

I have been your
John the Baptist, sir,

preparing the way for you.

I knew we would be friends.

Here we are, chatting
so comfortably to one another.

This is all for you, sir.

Yes, I am becoming
aware of that.

Let me announce you.

And I pray, do not think
it would be considered

an insult to the company

if you were to perform
a trick or two of magic.

No, no, no...

My lords. My lords!

Ladies and gentlemen,

may I introduce to you
my dear friend,

the savior of English magic,

the magician of Hanover Square,
Mr. Norrell.

He has disappeared.

Can I help you, sir?

You're right, he'll make
a door for me.

And I shall walk through it.

Oh, yes, you think yourself
a very fine fellow.

Hoarding books
like a miser hoards gold.

Open up!

Well, I have a book, sir.

A book you won't find in your
library or any other.

It's written by the Raven King
and it tells me all about you.

Vinculus, magician of
Threadneedle Street,

at your service.

Well, know this, magician...

Your coming
was foretold long ago.

I've been expecting
you these past 20 years.

Now I've come to explain
your destiny to you,

as it's written in my book.

Oh, prophecies, is it?

Well, magic cannot see into
the future

and rascals who claim
otherwise are liars.

Childermass!

These are the words
of the Raven King.

He was a charlatan, sir!
Childermass!

Two magicians
shall appear in England.

Two?

The name of one shall be
Fearfulness,

the name of the other,
Arrogance.

- Did you say two?
- Shh. The first shall fear me,

the second shall
long to behold me.

The first shall bury his heart

in the dark wood beneath the
snow, yet still feel its ache.

The second shall see his dearest
possession in his enemy's hand.

Both will fail.

The nameless slave shall be
a king in a strange land.

I will return.

His words, sir, not mine.

I will return.

Goodbye.

Childermass!

I want that man gone.
I want him run out of London.

You shall have some spells.

I don't need any spells.
What did he want?

What?

The man put himself to a great
deal of trouble

and risked a hanging.
What did he want?

To give a prophecy from
the Raven King. Nonsense.

- The Raven King?
- He said he had a book.

Nonsense. But if he does
have a book,

I want it,
and then I want to go home.

To Yorkshire.

To Yorkshire?
We've only just moved here.

This house is not respectable
enough. Such a tiny library.

No, you're doing it wrong.

You've got dozens of invitations
to fancy houses

and you, you either turn them
down or you scarper.

That's not how you
get things done.

Why do you not at least do some
magic here? Just show them.

I'm not a performing monkey.

Have Davey bring down
the packing boxes.

Do you wish to make a success
of this? Or do you not?

There. Take these spells.

Use them if you must.

One penny spells.
Two penny spells.

I've got a guinea spell
for you, sir.

Let me importune
some fortune

into your sorry
little life, sir.

Pull out your purses and
procure some curses.

All right, darling?

For five shillings I'll confer
with the River Thames

and find that runaway husband
of yours. Eh? No?

- How much for your pies, mate?
- More than you've got.

Ah, Mr. Norrell, sir.

Drawlight, hmm?
Your John the Baptist.

A moment of your time, sir.

Huh?

Ah, a spell to make an obstinate
man leave London.

One spell to discover what my
enemy is doing presently. Cheap.

Well, you can tell the
magician of Hanover Square

that his spells have
no effect on me.

That's because I haven't
cast them yet.

There's a true magician
in England now.

I know magicians and I
know magic and I say this,

all magicians lie,

that one more than most.
Oh, yes.

I think you and I had better
have a chat, don't you?

Why?

You left so suddenly
last night, sir,

and I had so much to say

and I'm sure we will
be such friends.

Davy, you should use
some calf-skin gloves.

Do mind the spines,
Lucas, the spines.

You are not leaving, sir?

I came here to restore magic
to respectability

and to do some good for the war.

I am clearly bound to fail,

these men in government
will not listen.

Sir, if you will permit me,
I know these men.

Just a spell or two

would have them embracing you
like a brother.

I only ask that I be
the gentleman

to introduce you to society.

Just one small piece of magic.

Like you did for the
housewives in Yorkshire.

I have never washed any linen
in my life

by magical means or otherwise.

- Who invented this nonsense?
- I suppose it is no matter who.

So where's this book of yours?

You'll never have my book.
You'll never even see it.

- It's my inheritance.
- From who?

The Raven King? Well, you
can't hide the truth from me.

The cards of Marseilles.
Shall we see your fortune?

For the present,

your actions are governed
by a hermit, Norrell.

We knew that already.

Ah, this one tells me
you've weighed your choices

and made a decision.

This one tells me what it is.
You're going wandering.

You have a message to deliver.

To him.

The Knight of Wands.

You may expect a meeting,

leading to an ordeal of some
sort, perhaps even death.

The cards don't say whether
or not you'll survive.

But, regardless, you will
achieve your purpose.

Do you know what I am yet?

Well, there's nothing in here
that says you're anything

more than a charlatan.

Then you won't mind if I tell a
fortune myself then, will you?

- My fortune won't interest you.
- Not yours, his.

Norrell's?

He is at a crossroads,
your magician.

Let's see which path
he chooses, shall we?

Someone's left a dirty
thumbprint on the card.

I drew these myself, there's
only one king in the pack.

Tell that to the magician
of Hanover Square.

His past, his present,
his future.

He is coming, you know?

The raven is coming.

And his spell
is about to be cast.

I do not wish to attend soirees,
dinner parties or salons.

I have offered my services
to the country,

they have been declined.

I shall return to Yorkshire.
Good day, gentlemen.

Well, sir, you have
your revenge,

at least as far as
Walter Pole is concerned.

- I'm sorry?
- Sir Walter's bride is dead.

Poor thing. £1000 a year
and quite dead.

She only contrived to remain
alive till the end of the week.

Dead? The young lady.
That is most unexpected.

To the contrary,
nothing was more likely.

Sir Walter's need of the money
is quite desperate.

He spent £1000
on the last election alone.

It's a very dangerous thing
to bring

someone back from the dead.

It has not been done
in 300 years.

No, no.
I could not attempt it.

Indeed, sir, no one proposes
that you should.

Well, I know the form of it.

But it is precisely the sort of
magic I've set my face against.

It relies so much upon...

Well, that is to say
the outcome...

It is quite unpredictable.

It is quite out of
the magician's power.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
I shall not even think of it.

No, sir, I understand.

You have in mind a great
act of magic.

A testament to your
extraordinary powers.

I must say I think
the idea an excellent one.

Should you succeed,

all the Poles in England
will be on your doorstep.

I have labored all this time to
make magic, my profession,

respectable in the eyes
of these men

and then still they despise me.

Oh, my dear Mr. Norrell,

such an opportunity is unlikely
to occur again.

With one stroke, you return to
us that sweet young woman

whose death no one can hear of
without shedding a tear.

And you re-establish magic
as a power in the realm

for generations to come.

There is scarcely any form
of magic more dangerous.

It is dangerous
to the magician,

and furthermore, it is
dangerous to the subject.

But the subject,
as you term her, is dead.

What worse fate
can befall her?

And a brave magician, surely.

I will need to send
for more books.

I'll make an excellent
landowner, Jeremy.

She will tell me
that I will be bored,

but I shall tell her about
my plans for alms houses,

and demonstrate my concern for
the plight of the common man.

The common man over there is
attempting to violently accost

the other common man, sir.

I don't suppose you brought
a set of pistols, did you?

No, sir.

Jeremy, go and fetch me
a large stick.

I say! You!
We are armed and ready.

Shh. Sir, shush,
you'll wake him up.

- Who?
- The man. Under the hedge.

He's a magician.

If you wake a magician
before his time,

his dreams come after you
and haunt you.

- Don't touch him!
- He's awake.

Knight of Wands. Two magicians
shall appear in England.

What did he say?

The name of one shall
be Fearfulness,

the name of the other,
Arrogance. Both will fail.

My name is Vinculus, sir.

For three days now, I have been
walking westward in search

of a man destined to
become a great magician.

Due to certain mystical signs,
I can see that it is you.

Two magicians shall appear
in England.

The first shall fear me.

The second shall
long to behold me.

The first shall be governed
by thieves and murderers.

The second shall conspire
at his own destruction.

You do not make it
sound very appealing.

Choose someone else.

I did not choose you,
Magician.

You were chosen long ago.

Well, whoever did the choosing
will be disappointed.

I am no magician.

Then buy these two spells
from me, sir.

They'll get you started.

I got them from a great magician
in London.

How much do you want for them?

Seven shillings and
six-pence, sir. Cough up.

All right, all right.

The nameless slave shall be
a king in a strange land.

Hey, you!

Let's have you. Workhouse.

- Vagrancy.
- That's your lot.

I'm not a vagrant, sir.
I have money.

- Who gave him money?
- Next time you're going, Jeremy.

I pray remember me

upon the moors,
beneath the stars.

- Good day, gentlemen.
- I will return.

His words, sir, not mine.

I will return!

When I take over the
management of my own estate.

You always told me you
hated farming, Jonathan.

- Will such a thing do for you?
- Well, I...

You once said that you would
rather put out your own eyes

than spend one moment
managing the estate.

Very well, I'm going to
study magic. Will that do?

Why on earth would you
want to do that?

I met a man under a hedge who
told me I was a magician.

- Now, did you indeed?
- You do not believe me.

No. On the contrary,

it's all of a piece with your
usual way of doing things.

I purchased two spells from
the man under the hedge.

Would you like to see one?

Very dirty.

We magicians do not regard
a little dirt.

Ancient, mysterious spells
such as these.

The second of February?

- Three days ago.
- Indeed.

"A spell to make an obstinate
man leave London."

"One spell to discover what mine
enemy is doing presently."

Why on earth would you want to
make people leave London?

These are horrible, Jonathan.

I require a mirror
and something dead.

Er, Jeremy, those flowers.

I think we can find you
a mirror, Jonathan.

Now, madam, an occupation.

If I make a success of this,
might I then

- presume that you'll agree...
- Here we are.

Er...
Thank you. And, er, now.

The flowers must be
arranged like so

and, er, then I draw a circle
on the mirror, like this,

and then I quarter the circle.

Jonathan, where did you
get this nonsense?

From the man under the hedge.
Henry, do at least try it.

Henry, that...

That is not your ceiling.

Who on earth is he?
And why is he your enemy?

- Do you owe him money?
- I do not think so.

He could be a banker.

It looks a little like
a counting house.

Well, Arabella, good magicians
conjure up fairy spirits

and long dead kings.

I appear to have summoned
the spirit of a banker.

But at least I am a magician.

I wish with all my heart,
Sir Walter,

that I might invite you
up with me

to see what it is I do.

But the nature of this
magic demands solitude.

I will, I hope, have the
honor of showing you

some magic on another occasion.

No, do not send them away, sir.

Gather as many of them around
the bed as possible.

Impress the servants.

We should have brought
some Chinese powders

to throw on the fire. Bang!

Er, I wish to go to where
Miss Wintertowne is.

This way, sir.

We will stand quietly
in the corner, sir,

and afford any assistance.

- No.
- But sir, we...

Gentlemen.

I have in mind to write a play
based on this sorry affair.

I shall call it, "Tis Pity
She's a Corpse."

Ahhh!

Who in the world are you?

I am the greatest magician
of the age.

I am the man who is destined
to restore magic to England.

Well, obviously you are that
or I should not be here.

But who are you?
What magic have you done?

Who was your master?

I had no master.
I taught myself from books.

Books.

There are some rather helpful
books these days.

At least they
might be helpful

when they're considered
altogether.

Should I agree to restore this
beautiful young woman to life...

what would be my reward?

Well, what sort of thing--

Oh, my wishes are the most
moderate things in the world.

I simply wish to be able
to aid you in your endeavors,

to advise you in all matters
and to guide your studies.

Oh, and you must take care

to tell the world that
your greatest achievements

are due, in large part, to me.

Were I the sort of magician

who entrusts his business
to other persons,

then I would.

But I fear, unfortunately,
that I have no notion

to employ you or indeed

any other member of your
race ever again.

Well, this is most
ungrateful indeed.

Perhaps I would do better
to speak to the other one.

- The other who?
- The other magician.

No, there is no other
magician. I am the only one.

Of course there is
another magician.

He is your dearest friend
in all the world.

I have no friends.
So you will not help me?

I must confess that in
recent centuries,

I have grown somewhat tired

of the society of my
cousins and servants.

I have need of new companions,

and this young woman would be
a charming companion indeed.

Grant me half her life
and the deal is done.

What would her friends and
family say if they knew.

Half a life is better
than none.

How long is a life?

How long would you like?

Well, let us suppose that
she might have lived

until she was 94.

And she is 19.
That's another 75 years.

Seventy-five years then.

Exactly half of which
belongs to me.

- Shall we sign something?
- No.

No. I should take something of
the lady's to signify my claim.

- One of her rings?
- No. Ah, I have it.

- And then you will go back?
- I am sorry.

After you've finished the spell.

You will go away not to
come back any more?

You need never see me again.

Emma?
Miss Wintertowne.

What are you doing, man?

Open this door!

For the love of Christ, sir,
open this door.

What have you done?

Oh, my Lord, my Lord.

Emma.

You've been wicked.

It is not right you did not
tell me how poorly I was.

I do believe for a moment
I may have been dead.

Though I don't seem to be dead
presently. How unusual.

Oh, Walter, I rather like you.
I am glad. Let us dance.

Emma...

Your finger.

I don't feel it.
Dance with me.

A miracle!

The magician of Hanover Square

has restored the young
lady to life.

My dear friend, Mr. Norrell,

he has performed that
which medicine could not.

Physicians had abandoned her,
the poor young lady...