All language subtitles for Jonathan.Strange.&.Mr.Norrell.S01E03.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

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!