All language subtitles for Jonathan.Strange.&.Mr.Norrell.S01E05.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

I am a king, you are a king.

Let's all be kings together.

Your Majesty.

Sir!

My reputation has
been ruined and my servant

- has been shot, sir.
- Let me go! No!

Everyone will ask
why she did this.

But nobody knows
who shot at you.

Lady Pole may be put
in an asylum.

You are Norrell's men.

I am sold once more. Stephen!
Turn me--

We are no friends
to Mr. Norrell.

What happened
behind the mirror?

The King's Roads.

Promise me
you will not go out

on those roads again.

- No.
- Damn magic to hell.

Damn where it's led us.

Can a magician
kill a man by magic?

I suppose a magician might.

But a gentleman never could.

He has murdered my book.

We must not let this stand.

You must not!

I am home.

We'll go back to Shropshire.

And I will cease to do
practical magic.

I will write down
my thoughts in a book.

Once again
it is the stupid magician

who thwarts us.

We must find and awaken
a moss-oak.

He will bargain her life away

and he will have no notion
that he has done so.

- Napoleon is back.
- What?

The Duke, he asks you
to renew your commission.

I am sorry, Mrs. Strange,

but your husband
is the army's magician,

and we have need of him.

Keep going, come on!

Move, move, come on!

Hold the gates.
Hold the gates!

Not rain, Merlin! Not rain!

You may have this rain,
or that fire!

They're climbing
over the wall!

Merlin. Where is Wellington?

- Can you see him?
- Find him.

Merlin.

Merlin,
they're scaling the wall!

Merlin!
They are breaking through!

Stop messing around
and find my reinforcements!

Ahhh!

These gates
won't hold much longer!

Down!

Charge!

No!

Hold the gates!
Hold the gates!

Jonathan?

Have you written much today?

Oh. Yes. Quite a bit.

I was told you were dead.

I felt certain you would be.

Well, gentlemen.

The war is over.

What do you think
they'll do with us now?

Come.

I want to show you something.

The King's Roads.

They're almost finished.

Bell, you are clever.

That's four of them done,
but, of course,

Mr. Murray will want them
engraved.

This is just how it looked.

You make me very proud.

The light's very good in here.

But why publish
Strange's book, Mr. Murray?

I am a book
publisher, Mr. Norrell.

Surely it should be
no great surprise

that I publish a book?

Magic is a very
popular subject.

The Friends of English Magic
sells well.

Mr. Lascelles' book
sold very well,

until Mr. Strange reviewed it.

Why undo all this good work
by putting out a book

so at odds with the orthodoxy?

That would be with your
orthodoxy, Mr. Norrell.

And how do we know
that it will be--

Because that is what
he does, sir!

Three volumes laying
English magic naked

for all who choose
to salivate over!

I do not know what the end
of it will be!

Well, the beginning of it
will be that Volume 1

of Mr. Strange's book
is published in August.

It is the most dangerous
and seditious thing

of which I have ever heard.

Publish and you shall have
no more editions

of The Friends
of English Magic, sir.

That is Mr. Norrell's
prerogative.

You have made an enemy
of us, sir.

Aye, well.

There you go.

The History and
Practice of English Magic.

"Marvel at what he has done.

Dare to dream
of what he may yet do.

Mr. Strange's remarkable book
of magic."

Why on Earth does he insist on
punishing me in this manner?

- Whatever wrong did I do him?
- None, sir.

It is not for myself I fear,
Mr. Lascelles.

It is for England.

There is a danger,
both in what he will say

and in the very fabrics
of the books themselves.

Really, it would be most
agreeable to me

to never see or hear
from that man again.

Madam!

Madam!
Madam, I beg your pardon!

Madam.

Mrs. Strange?

Mrs. Strange!

Mrs. Strange!

Mrs. Strange!

- A bell?
- Yes, sir.

What bell could there
have been, Mr. Hyde?

Well, that was just
the beginning.

I looked to the south,
and I...

I saw a lady...

walking away from me.

Just walking on into the snow.

Black gown, no shawl,
not even a pair of shoes.

Only, when I reached the top,
she was nowhere.

Forgive me, I do not
see why you come to me.

You should ride
to the Magistrate.

It was Mrs. Strange, sir.

My mother? My mother is dead.

You... You believe
you saw her ghost?

Your wife, sir.

It could not have been
my wife.

Mrs. Strange's father was
curate of my parish 47 years.

I've known her since
she took her first steps

in Clunbury churchyard.

Arabella has not left Ashfair
these past five days.

Besides,
she never wears black.

I hate to see her in black.

I'm not the first to have seen
a woman in black

wandering hereabouts.

Well, whoever the poor woman
is, she is not my wife.

We may call Mrs. Strange here.

You may see
with your own eyes.

No. No. I do not wish
to distress her.

Sir, could it not be something
to do with...

your magic?

I have ceased to do
practical magic.

I did my last at Waterloo.

I just write my book now.

And Mrs. Strange
spends most of her time

encouraging me to finish it.

Well, I...
I'm glad Mrs. Strange is safe.

I'm sorry for disturbing
you, sir.

Thank you.

Look after her, sir.

Do you think
there will be another war?

It is my most fervent hope
that there will not be.

And how do you think things
between you and Norrell

will fall out?

Oh, like any other dull,
academic controversy.

Books, articles, factions.

One of us will win,

posterity will take
a little from us both,

and then we shall both
be forgotten.

As for my own future...

I wish to spend it quietly,
with my wife.

Hmm.

I should also like to cut down
the copper beeches

that my father planted

and do something about
the east garden.

And what about a child?

That would be a fine thing,
would it not?

Then we should see
what we can do about it.

Mr. Segundus. Mr. Segundus.

Mr. Honeyfoot...

- Good Lord. Whatever is it?
- Mr. Segundus.

You must send a message
to Jonathan Strange.

Something terrible
is going to happen.

You must send word.

- What did she say?
- She says we must go

to Jonathan Strange's house.

It is very important
that you listen to me.

- Do you understand?
- Wait a moment.

On a May morning in 1310,

the wife of a Christian
lighthouse keeper

found a cupboard
in her kitchen.

- Do you understand?
- No. I'm so sorry.

The cupboard
kept calling to her

again and again.

She told her husband
who thought she was mad.

But when she stepped
inside the cupboard,

she was never seen again.

I mean to say
that she was stolen away.

Your friend, madam,
she's in great distress.

May I take you to her?

You must send word
to Jonathan Strange

at Ashfair House.

Tell him he must not
make the bargain.

- He must not.
- I'm sorry, madam.

I do not understand.

I mean...
I mean to say moss-oak!

Moss-oak!

Moss-oak!
Mean to say moss-oak!

Moss-oak!

Ahhh!

Bell! No.

Bell, no!

Mary, where is Mrs. Strange?

Is she not still in bed, sir?

No.

Would you find her
for me, please?

An hour ago,
I saw Mrs. Strange

upon the Welsh hills.

I am in no doubt, sir.
It was her.

Bell. Arabella.

She is not in the house, sir.

We do not know where she is.

Oh, she'll freeze herself
to death.

Bring me some water, Mary.

Now!

Fill it up.

Mr. Strange,
ought we not ride out--

Quiet. Quiet.

Sir, what is this meant to do?

Find her.

Not in England, not in Wales,
not in Scotland.

Mary. Mary!

Fetch my coat and boots.

Madam!

Arabella.

Mrs. Strange.

Mrs. Strange!

Arabella!

Mrs. Strange!

Where are you?

Bell.

Mrs. Strange!

Arabella.

Mrs. Strange!

So, we have Clunbury, Ashfair,
and the marches.

I think I woke last night.

You did not say this before.

I did not remember before.

Arabella was getting
out of the bed.

I thought I had dreamt it.

Bell. Oh, thank God.

Where on Earth have you been?

Walking. In the woods.

With my brothers and sisters.

Oh, madam.
You are as cold as the grave.

What have you got on?

It's this way, madam.

Please!

Madam. Madam, please. Quickly.

Am I... Am I your wife?

Of course you are.
Of course you're my wife.

Do you... Do you accept me
as your wife?

Yes, yes. What...

Madam, madam.
We must make haste. Please.

You renounce all other wives?

Bell, of course I do.

Of course. With all my heart.

Where is my friend?

I'm sorry, madam.

Madam.

Welcome to Lost Hope.

Oh, she's dreadful cold, sir.

Bell, my love.
What were you thinking?

You are a poor husband.

Your husband
has bargained you away, madam.

He has sold you to me

in exchange
for a piece of wood.

You are to be mine

for all time...
And never leave.

- I tried to tell you of this.
- Emma.

- Bell.
- Emma.

- Take us home, Stephen.
- Shh.

Mmm.

I do not offer anything

that will not be exquisitely
agreeable to you.

My husband will hear of this.

There is no husband.

Not any more.

Bell.

Bell.

Bell, no.

It's me.

No. Bell!

No!

Bell, no! It's me.

She is quite peaceful now.

What is this you do?

My mother used to tell me
tales of magicians,

different creatures.

It was really what first
drew me to magic

the romance of it.

The tales I heard
when I was a boy.

When she die...
When she... When she died,

I went around collecting
folk tales,

writing them up.

And that story
Lady Pole told last night,

the lighthouse keeper
and his cupboard,

it made me think
I've heard it before.

It is much like a tale

told by the fishwives
of Flamborough

about a man called Bloodworth,

who lit the lamp
in the lighthouse

during the 1500s.

- Is it a common story?
- No.

And the way she told it
was not quite the same

as I have it in my book.
But...

And what do you mean to say?

I do not believe Lady Pole's
stories are nonsense.

I believe there is
a pattern to them.

Bell?

Bell?

Oh, God, Bell.

And what do you consider

so dangerous about this book?

Everything.

Do you think I take the books
of English magic to myself

because I am some
sort of miser, sir?

Because I rub my hands
in glee,

desiring to have it all?

No, sir, no.
No, I gather these books

because they are so
very powerful and dangerous,

and Mr. Strange's book
is the most dangerous of all.

You consider
that his book

will give ammunition
to the Johannites?

It is not a matter
of consideration, my Lord,

it is a matter of...

I beg your pardon.
Give... Give ammunition to...

The Johannites.
Machine-breakers.

- The rioters in the north.
- I do not understand.

What do rioters have to do
with magic?

Do you never look
in a newspaper, sir?

No.

These men have lost
their employment

to the new machines.

They destroy factories
and looms

and proclaim themselves
to be the followers

of the Raven King.

They carry his banner,
they daub his blazon

- on the walls of--
- There is a ragged preacher

going around the north,
telling people

that the Raven King
is coming back.

He's not coming back, is he?

That is a ridiculous notion.

But I... I...
I see your anxiety.

I...

I see your anxiety.

After all, the Raven King

has always been associated
with riot and revolution.

You think Strange's book
will support the Raven King?

Everything he's done
and said would say so.

Then we must
hope he sees sense.

Or that something occurs
to stop him.

Yes.

Yes, indeed.

Not now, Henry. Not now!

I hope you'll forgive
the mess.

I rather thought it was...

Now, Henry, do not take on.

It is all right.

Come now.

Let us have something to eat.

I can spare half an hour.

- May I conduct the funeral?
- Funeral, Henry?

What would be the point
of that?

But, well, how else?

There is to be no funeral,
Henry.

I'm going to bring her
back to life.

I must get on.

- Jonathan, what do you mean?
- Precisely what I say.

But such a thing is not
possible, you cannot just--

It is perfectly possible,
Henry, believe me.

I did such a thing,
of a rough sort, in Spain.

Of a rough sort?

Dammit, Jonathan,
she is my flesh and blood.

And she is my heart and soul.

What is magic to me otherwise?

How'd it go?

It is the problem
of the Johannites

which concerns them.

Of course, you are aware
of the Johannites?

Aye.

I fear, and I said it to them,

that Mr. Strange's book

will put fire
into their hearts.

Mr. Lascelles is of the
opinion that I should have

an attorney serve
Mr. Strange--

Forgive me, sir.

I think you take the advice
of Mr. Lascelles

a little too freely.

- Do you indeed?
- Well, I may say

that it was you who suggested

that I turn to him
and Drawlight

- in the first place.
- Yes, sir, I know--

If I did not have
Mr. Lascelles,

I would be quite alone.

And Mr. Strange would be free
to dictate the direction

that English magic will take

and spoil everything
I have done.

I will not have this book,
Childermass,

and Mr. Lascelles
will help me to ensure that.

I do not think Mr. Strange
will be publishing

anything any time soon, sir.

His wife is dead.

Dead?

She went walking in the snow
and caught a chill.

Oh,

Mr. Strange will feel
that very badly.

"And so
I beg of you, dear sir,

for the sake of any friendship
that once we enjoyed,

you tell me what magic
you employed

to bring her Ladyship
back to the bloom of life.

Tell me but this one thing,
whatever magic it is,

and I promise you
I shall tell no one

and that furthermore I shall
put aside magic entirely,

cease to call myself magician,
and trouble you no more.

Your affectionate friend,
Jonathan Strange."

What shall I do?

Nothing, sir.
There's no need.

There's already talk
in Shropshire

that he killed his wife
by black magic.

That he has another
wife somewhere.

If it were now known
he plans to raise

the original from the dead,
as he did those Italians,

his reputation will be ruined.

No one would buy his book.

I rather think
Mr. Norrell was asking

what he should do to help.

Were you not?

Can we talk without
the servants present, sir?

No, let's not talk without
the servants present.

Strange has made his promise.

He's a man of his word.

You and he can bring
Mrs. Strange back

between you, I'm sure.

I presume you now understand

what went amiss
with Lady Pole,

- she need not come back mad.
- Could we talk without

the servants present, sir?

It is most vexing.

I mean to say, his first
reaction when his wife dies

is to turn to black magic.

It is the measure
of the man, sir.

But perhaps Childermass is...

Well, perhaps
if I just explained to--

Childermass has his own
reasons for doing anything.

Mr. Strange has broken
with you, sir.

He has gone against
your wishes time and again.

Sir, all you have done
is for the good

of English magic.

You are...

the good of English magic.

Do not allow your goodness
to be used against you.

- Yes, but...
- Write to him if you wish,

but I could not
in all conscience,

stand by and see you
inflict such damage

upon your own cause.

I fear I could no longer
be your friend.

Poor man.

There is no
need to whisper, dear Stephen.

He can neither
see nor hear us.

He is attempting to summon me.

Ignorant fool.

He may be ignorant,
but he still succeeded, sir.

What?

After all,

you are here, sir.

Yes.

I dare say.

But if I choose not to make
myself heard, nor seen,

what use is that?

Stephen, quick,
turn the pages of that book.

There is no breeze in the room
and it will perplex him.

Really, watching this
fellow try to do magic

is like seeing a man
sit down to eat dinner

with his coat on backwards.

He has just lost his wife,
sir.

Yes.

And what a delicious irony
that he summons me.

Oh, give his neck a pinch,
Stephen.

He will think it is a gnat.

It is said the Raven King

brought the son of a nobleman

with whom he had quarreled
back to life.

Henry Barbatus,
died of a fever.

The King had his body dug up
out of its grave.

Perhaps it involved
some exchange of...

The life of trees,
or dogs, or...

Jonathan...

The Raven King was nothing
if not practical.

You will not
come back speaking

in the tongues of Hell.

You will come back
with the voices of Heaven.

Bell?

Wake up.

If you please.

Please wake up.

I'm sorry, my love.

There.

Nothing from Norrell. Nothing!

It is seven days, Jonathan.

One more day. I beg you.

No, Jonathan. I believe
in the resurrection

to eternal life.

Norrell does not want
to tell me.

I will go to him.

- I will make him.
- Jonathan, stop.

- Get out of my way.
- Do you honestly believe

this is what Arabella
would wish?

Do you think she would be
pleased with you?

She would be alive, Henry.

I wish her to be alive!

But she's dead.

The corpse lying upstairs

is no longer your wife
or my sister.

What would it be
if you brought it back now?

Please stop.

Please, respect her
and respect yourself.

It breaks my heart
to say this, Jonathan,

she is the only family
I will ever have,

she's my most beloved sister.

She must...

be let go.

You were the very reason
I did magic.

You were the reason
I did anything.

The excitement of it
was very much to see

how you would look at me.

The excitement of life
was very much to see

how you would look at me.

Goodbye, my love.

...and that I shall
rise out of the earth

on the last day.

And shall be covered
again with my skin.

And shall see God in my flesh.

Yea, and I myself
shall behold him,

not with other,
but with these same eyes.

For as much as it has pleased
almighty God

to take unto himself

the soul of our dear sister
here departed,

we therefore commit her body
to the ground.

Earth to Earth,

ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

In the sure and certain hope

of resurrection
to eternal life,

through our Lord Jesus Christ,
Amen.

It seems a waste for you

to have come all this way,
Stephen.

Sir Walter wished you
to be told in person.

He wishes me to stay by you.

He considered you
might be very distressed

by the death of Mrs. Strange.

I am very distressed
by what has happened.

No one is
more distressed than I.

I had considered at least
it would have given me

someone to talk to.

But she is so very,
very far away.

So it is when someone is dead.

Mr. Black, my colleague and I
consider we would fail

in our duty of care if we
did not ask you something.

What is it, gentlemen?

We know how impatient
you and her Ladyship

are of magicians, sir,
but, erm--

The nonsense that she speaks,
sir, well,

we have been
listening to it when it comes.

I have been reading
my old notes,

and I believe it has
a pattern, sir.

We were wondering if you think

we might induce her

to speak in that way,
in order to study--

No. I think you may not.

But, you see, sir,
she speaks in fairy tales,

- as we would call them--
- Gentlemen.

Do not meddle in such things.

You have no idea
of where it will end.

And you are not fit to do it.

But, surely if we can help--

No, you cannot.
No one can help.

We must accept that
she cannot be cured.

And yourself?

You do not have my permission.

And I do not want
any more talk of it.

- Did you see it?
- No.

Well, I see it plainly
on both of them.

I vote we go ahead.

Stop!

- You are changed.
- Truth to tell,

I was not quite
myself for a time.

Would you give this
to Lady Pole?

I think Bell would be
pleased to know

that your wife had something
to remember her by.

I'm sure she would
be most... Comforted.

You have not
given up magic, then?

- It is just I had heard...
- What had you heard?

I...

I am no longer
a practical magician.

That does not mean
I have abandoned magic.

Norrell is in agonies whenever
your book is mentioned.

Agonies...

Well, the book is
only the beginning.

I mean to say, when you
consider the matter,

what does our so-called
restoration of English magic

really amount to?

What have Norrell and I
actually done? Illusions.

Storms and bad weather.
His silly sea beacons.

He still has not
completed them.

Compare our sorry reckoning

with the magicians
of the Golden Age.

They, they transformed
themselves into mice,

foxes, rivers.

They made ships out of cobwebs

and houses out
of rose bushes--

Mr. Strange, I... I do
not much like saying it,

but it occurs to me
Norrell may be right.

These kinds of magic
will not suit us nowadays.

How can you say that
when none of us knows

what magic it is?

No, we must turn
our attention to the life

and magic of the Raven King.

- And when we do--
- I am sorry, Mr. Strange.

That is the one thing
we must not do.

I am serious.
I tell you this as a friend.

Too much talk of other kings

is bound to make
the government nervous.

How can we restore
English magic until we know

what it is we're supposed
to be restoring?

We do not require English
magic to be restored any more

than it already has been.

Leave John Uskglass

in the obscurity Mr. Norrell
has placed him.

Norrell has poisoned
your minds.

Literally, in your case.

Do you not consider...

Do you not consider
what happened to your wife?

Do you not question
why she went mad?

- This idea is madness.
- Madness is what it is not.

Whatever you hope to gain
from this--

My liberty, Stephen.

- Mine and hers.
- You cannot fight him.

Mrs. Strange.

She doesn't know what is done.

She is happy. You and I...

We have survived so far.

What would you suggest,
Stephen?

We should accept our position
and be thankful for it.

He has poisoned your mind.

So, gentlemen,
what are we to do?

Try and, er, describe

what most distresses you,
my Lady.

Bell, no. It's me.

There was once a Christian
who went hunting

in a wood of wych elm.

His horse got its hoof
caught in a rabbit hole

and he tumbled in.

He found himself
in a strange country,

lit by its own sun
and nurtured by its own rain.

In a wood very much
like the one he had just left,

he found a brugh
where a party of gentlemen,

some of them rather odd,
were playing napdraw.

Here. The Huntsman
and the rabbit hole.

Er, but you heard her
say "brugh"?

And, erm, "napdraw",
what is that?

Er, I think it is a card game,

rather like what we
would call Spoil Five.

I think it best if you speak
generally, my Lady.

If you aim right
for the truth,

you veer off
at even stranger angles.

- Yes.
- Speak around it this time.

There was once a farmer
of Harrogate--

--who desired very greatly

to grow broad beans
bigger than any in Yorkshire.

To this end, he enlisted
the assistance of Col Tom Blue

who helped him grow beans
as large as a man's foot.

Madam, please,
we must stop this.

Go on.

Col Tom Blue
had enchanted the beans

as a means to capture
the souls

of the little children.

The little children
were then carried off

to the Castles of the Five.

I have it. She said,
"Castles of the Five."

That's a common story about
a fairy but he is unnamed.

You called him Col Tom Blue.

I think what you are telling,
my Lady, are fairy tales.

But told, in some way,
from the point of view

of the fairy himself.

Human tales, as it were.

- Is this the madhouse?
- Yes,

it most certainly is.

I've got a madman for ya.

- He's blue.
- Blue?

With your permission, madam,

we would like
to write to Mr. Strange.

Yes. Please!

Mr. Segundus.
Mr. Honeyfoot.

Excuse us, ma'am.

Madman. He's been
going round markets, pinching.

Shouting all sorts of nonsense
about Raven King.

We'll need all of you
to bring him.

- What is the matter?
- Madman.

I've met you before.

And you.

I have a message for you,
nameless slave.

Unhand me.

The rain
shall wake it all for me--

Unhand me!

Do you see anything in this

that might be called
seditious?

I see that he would
tear England to pieces.

I see that he will spoil magic
for generations to come!

Why did you not let me have
my magical court?

From what I understand from
my man at Murray's,

there is no direct call

for the restoration
of the Raven King.

But such a call would not
be against the law,

as it currently stands.

May we keep this...
For a while?

We will remain in touch.

I do not know how
I shall prevent him.

I do not know.

Oh, what do you want
to prevent him for?

Call a halt to this
bloody stupid feud.

It won't end well
for you both.

Join him, if you wish.

Join him and Murray
and the other traitors.

I'm not going anywhere.
Don't worry.

That is a shame.
I agree with you, though.

Between us, I'm sure
we can put a halt

to Strange's book.

Childermass? Is that you?

I've been expecting you.
How is your master?

Poorly, sir.

Colds and headaches and
tremblings in the limbs.

All the usual symptoms
when someone has vexed him.

And no one vexes him
as you do.

And what does
he think about you

turning yourself into shadows

and making yourself invisible?

I have been 18 years in
Mr. Norrell's service,

and before that
I was a pickpocket.

I would have to be
a dull fellow

to have learnt nothing at all.

That was not what I asked.

Well, come and see
what you were sent to see.

I have nothing to hide.

They are very beautiful.

I aim for the whole book
to be a work of beauty.

So, these are
the King's Roads?

Built by
the Raven King himself.

What is the country
that the bridges cross?

I do not know.

What is your opinion,
magician?

I suppose it is Faerie.

Was the magic difficult?

You need a
spell of revelation,

I used Doncaster,
and another of dissolution

to melt the mirror's surface.

- Do you follow me?
- Yes, sir.

Have these landscapes
always been there?

I believe so.

Well, why have magicians
not been able

to go about upon them?

These roads were all closed,
hidden behind mirrors.

But now...

Something has occurred
to open up them up again.

Now, there is more magic
in England

than either you or I
can understand.

I think that is true.

Is it not time, Childermass,
that you left

Gilbert Norrell's service
and came to me?

There need be none of
this servant nonsense.

You would be
my pupil and assistant.

Thank you, sir. Thank you.

But Mr. Norrell and I
are not done

with each other yet.

And besides, I think I would
make a very bad pupil.

Worse even than you.

Was I so very bad?

I merely asked questions.

Surely that is
the prerogative of any pupil.

I do not know how it will end
with you and Norrell,

but I tell you what I'll do.

If you fail and Norrell wins,
I shall leave his service.

I'll take up your cause,

and then there will still be
two magicians in England

and two opinions upon magic.

But, if he should fail
and you win,

I'll do the same against you.

Good enough?

Yes.

Thank you for
your frankness, sir.

It is Norrell who likes
to keep secrets, not I.

Besides,
I have told you nothing

that is not already
in my book.

Within a month, every man,
woman and child in the kingdom

will be able to read it

and form his own
opinions on it.

Which is just as it should be.

Regarding that, sir...

I think I should warn
you to be careful.

Of what?

Of your book, sir.

What do you mean?

He is trying
to have it stopped.

How?

By whatever means he can,
I think.

God damn him.

God damn him.

What have I ever
done to him, Childermass?

What did I ever do apart from
be frank and pleasant?

This book will stand
as tribute to my wife.

- Mr. Strange--
- Damn him. God damn him!

No. Bloody idiot!

Mr. Norrell. Mr. Norrell,

it is your former pupil
and former friend!

Mr. Norrell is not
at home, sir...

Oh!

Mr. Norrell!

What is this?
You quarrel with my book?

Your book
cannot be published, sir.

- We will not allow it.
- Why?

What on Earth does it matter?
Leave me be!

Do you not consider
you have hurt me enough?

Do you not consider
you have hurt

- Mr. Norrell enough?
- What hurt?

I wrote begging
with everything I could offer

that he help do for my wife
what he did for Lady Pole!

I pleaded, sir,
on any condition,

that he help me bring
my wife back,

and he did not even reply.

What was the magic?

Why will you not tell me?

I know why.

I know why.

Charlatan!

You're no friend of mine!

House-breaker!

Merlin.

I'm here to help you.

The most terrible things are
being done against you.

They seek to arraign you
for breaking

into Norrell's house.

They say I killed Bell.

They say that if a charge
can be found under modern law,

they plan to try you
for murder by witchcraft.

Ah.

So, what do you mean to do?

I shall summon a fairy.

I do not think that germane
to your situation.

You are wrong.

You wonder if such a thing
is even possible.

The received opinion
is that fairies

do not visit England any more.

But I tell you,
I was in company

with one at Windsor Castle.

No magician of any era
could help me

as much as a fairy.

I've tried every spell I know,
this way and that.

Nothing seems to work.

But then I thought on it.

I did not see the fairy.

That is the difficulty.
To see and hear them.

Yet there was one present who
perceived him very clearly.

Why could he,
when I could not?

Merlin, let me bring
you out of here.

It is very important
that I do this, Grant.

Well, was this fellow
a magician?

No. This man was just... Mad.

Now what must be done
is to get you away from here.

We will enlist
Sir Wellington's help.

Sir, open this door.

This is the Duke
of Wellington's man!

He will not have
you slandered so.

But then again, madness is not
such a very queer notion.

Think of the magicians
of the Golden Age.

They were the fairies'
near-neighbors

in wildness, insanity.

- Perhaps I am too tame...
- Mr. Strange, listen.

But how does one work up
a little madness in oneself?

Perhaps I should go wandering.

Perhaps the wilderness
will make me mad.

I think you've hit upon
something, Grant.

My book is finished.
London is set against me.

It is time for me
to become the magician

- I am destined to become.
- Merlin, you cannot propose

that you purposely become a...
a lunatic.

You will only help
your enemies.

What must be done now
is to take you away from here.

Now then. Gaoler. Gaoler.

Come on, man.
Unlock this door.

Look sharp.
At the double, go on.

Come on, man, at the double.

Merlin?

The prisoner's
missing! Guards!

The magician has escaped!
Guards...