Original subtitles

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.

Gentlemen, you of all people

should know that Gilbert Norrell

does not look favorably 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!

Have 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 that 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 am 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 sewn on the sleeve.

You may cut up those dresses.

But they are so very fine.

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

Is this your wedding dress?

Cut it up.

My... 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.

Ah, Mr...

How is your husband?

Is he still... Wherever he is?

I, uh... I have not heard from him.

He is sure to be bored at home, madam,

as soon as he has tasted war.

Move!

Excuse me? Excuse me, hello?

I am the magician.

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

to find out what the lines are?

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

Uh, 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 was 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 and the Portuguese, my--

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?

Norrell, my Lord. But he is in London.

I am Strange.

Indeed.

Grant, talk to Capitan Saornil and the guerilleros.

Offer them as much gold

as they can fill their pockets with.

I must have those guns for the advance.

- My Lord. - Uh... My Lord.

What I chiefly require, sir,

is more artillery and more men.

Can you make them appear?

It is an interesting question, my Lord.

Uh, in the book, De Generibus Artum Magicarum--

I don't care about the book,

De Generibus Artum Magicarum, 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 great nuisance to the army, sir.

These visions you've shown the ministers

have 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!

Goodnight!

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.

Do you think it matters?

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.

- Damn you, sir. - Pure and plain!

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.

This is Stephen.

This is Stephen, the King to be.

Here I am with a rose in my mouth.

The reason I cannot speak clearly of it.

Will you write to your husband of this?

Oh, 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 particular friend.

It is because you are the only person

who will see me.

It is because your husband is who he is.

- My Lady! - Shh, Stephen!

- Perhaps I should, um-- - Mrs. Strange.

I cannot say it to you, I must show it!

- Lady Pole is there. - Mmm-hmm.

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 hope you do not take it amiss.

But it is a very hard thing for a 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?

- Oh, 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 hurt 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 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 made me a promise when you asked

if you might continue to 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 our 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.

Good evening, gentlemen.

Good evening, Ned, Winespill.

A devil of the 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?

I know it is an odd question--

A magic woman, sir.

Toasted bloody cheese.

Here you are, sir.

Thank you, Jeremy.

Excuse me, sir?

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

Do... Do you need magic?

Um, 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 am expecting a parcel.

Does she not say anything about me boots?

Boots?

I asked her to send new boots, sir.

I'm sorry, she...

she merely sends her love.

Damn Portuguese roads,

they tear a man's boots to ribbons.

What's the use in love

when she could have sent boots?

Bring it up, lads. Heads down, heads down.

Goodnight, sir.

Goodnight.

...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., um...

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 the 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.

One and the same time.

We've been talking, arguing rather,

about magic, how it's done.

Major Grant here says that 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.

Hmm.

Very good.

That 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,

if 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 the modern kind of magician at all.

Mr. Norrell and I are endeavoring

to make magic respectable, my Lord.

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

Besides, I've got to call you something.

- Strange? - Ah.

Merlin it is, then.

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,

and 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--

No, that would take too much time.

I am in a hurry.

- Where's the magician? - Here, sir.

I would counsel, my Lord,

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? - Hmm.

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.

It is not so very large.

These are living things, my Lord.

They will have humors of their own.

They may not care for soldiers.

Then perhaps we have reached the limits

of your abilities, Mr. Strange.

Grant, Daylight.

Take a few men and 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 lunch time. They will not be happy.

I must find the oldest tree.

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

Perhaps we should cut them all down

and count the rings.

This one perhaps?

Jeremy.

Heavensy.

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.

- Mr. Strange! - Quiet.

You have drawn their notice!

Quiet!

Commence firing!

Steady!

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.

I'm sor...

Stand your ground!

Captain, let's fill this flank!

Hold your places!

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.

Taken 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 apologize.

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, Mr. Strange.

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?

Madam.

Oh, God.

Get Sir Walter.

My dear, Sir Walter.

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 horrors.

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 Vittoria.

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 thirty were Neapolitan.

Were they indeed?

It is my view that they killed the others

and will shortly try to sell the cannon

to the highest bidder.

Why have we not heard from them?

They have been sending messages

to their relatives in the French army

to desert and join them.

They believe that with the money they will get

for the cannon they will all be able to sail back

to Naples together in a golden ship.

And they do not wish to return home

to face their mothers and aunts without bringing

their relatives back with them.

Yes, I've always heard Italian women

are rather 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 of where the thieves are

and where they have put the guns.

Unfortunately, Grant, the only Neapolitans we've encountered

have been dead ones on the battlefield.

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.

You recognize 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.

I think 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, for all the good

that will do us.

What? What is it?

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

modern 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 'em, Mr. Strange.

I do not see they are so mutilated.

Does it matter if 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 may be 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.

Signore!

Come along, Grant.

Ask them where our guns are.

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 should have the guns by morning.

This is it, my dear Merlin!

That was easy, come.

Good man, Merlin.

- You. - My Lady.

You have murdered me!

No, that was not my intention.

Do you know what you did, sir?

Madam, I was tricked.

Were it not 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, my Lady. - No!

You have opened a door to Hell

and invited the Devil into England.

Shh... I beg you, I beg you!

Just 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.

Ah!

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! - I'm sorry.

No! 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.

But 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 the devil 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 haven't seen you in days, man.

Look at them, poor wretches.

What do they say?

They, um,

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 in any way reverse it,

I've tried everything.

Everything?

Merlin,

oblige me by leaving off trying to kill people

who are already dead,

cheering yourself up, 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'm 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 is 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 magician's wife

has rather prevented us discussing the matter

of you becoming a king.

But I have begun to realize

how very useful such a thing might be.

It has been the cruelest 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 monopolizing 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?

Mary?

I am home.

Oh, God. Oh!

Oh, God.

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 very 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.

Tell them 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.

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!