All language subtitles for Jonathan.Strange.&.Mr.Norrell.S01E07.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

I want you to teach me
how to be mad.

He plans to trap himself
a fairy,

and to return
to England with it

and restore magic
to its rightful place.

Yes!

I should take
something of the lady's

to signify my claim.

Who was the last English
magician you dealt with?

I do not have
to tell you that.

What token did he give you?

- I do not--
- Bring it to me!

Bell, are you alive?

- She has forgotten you.
- What?

Do you wish
to dance with me, sir?

Stop!

Arabella!

I demand that
you give me back my wife!

Can I not help you?

When the time is right,
you will know.

You must deliver
three messages.

Three messages.
Do you understand?

Show me this book,
if there is one.

Let us kill him.

You will discover
I am very hard to kill.

Oh, no, sir, please. No.

He told me I would be King.

Of course you will,
dear Stephen.

He has it written
all over him.

It says,
"The magicians will fail."

Order!

Order!

Sir Walter Pole...

I have here letters
from the Lords Lieutenant

of Lincolnshire, Yorkshire,

Cornwall, Somerset
and Warwickshire,

all complaining
of the disruptive new magic,

which has recently been seen
in those counties.

We all, I'm sure,
can report similar stories.

The mirrors
of England are broken.

We now border upon lands

about which no one
knows anything.

Mr. Strange
has opened the doors

between England
and the other realms,

and in doing so,

he has brought magic
flooding back in.

We do not know his reasons.

It is said
he has gone mad.

It is said
he is returning from Venice

and bringing
his Black Tower with him.

We can only assume
he is coming here

and that he means
to do us harm.

Before these men,

before Mr. Strange
and Mr. Norrell,

magic was dead in England.

It was part of history

and not...

Not respectable.

I deeply
regret my part

in bringing it back to life.

It should have been
left alone.

It entails nothing
but horrors.

To speak personally
for a moment...

To speak personally,

I can scarcely describe
my feelings.

It is not treason exactly
what Mr. Strange has done.

Lady Pole, Lady Pole...
Please wake up.

I suppose it is a...

It is a species of revolution.

Where is Mr. Norrell, sir?

Mr. Norrell has returned
to Yorkshire.

Order!

I must say,
I find it hard to think

of any more
distasteful reports

that has ever been
delivered to this House.

With that in mind,
I tender my resignation

as a Minister of the Crown
and a member of this House.

Hypocrite! Sir, you...

Where is Norrell?

Stephen,
good morning.

Will you prepare
my carriage?

I would like to visit my wife.

Oh, Henry.

Thank goodness
you are here.

You were to remain
at Venice until Strange left.

I told you that plainly.

You have to take me
to London.

Why did you not kill him?
No one would have known.

I would have done it.

Go to Venice and try.

Where is he now?
What did he say?

He's trapped within
an awful tower of black.

Oh, Henry.
The terror of it!

- He's plotting.
- Plotting what?

Revenge.

He gave me a letter
for Lady Pole and--

Show me.

I've already sent it.

- What else?
- I'm to--

to tell Childermass
that Norrell

had a fairy to help him
raise Lady Pole.

He sold her.

And to give Childermass proof

of what Norrell has done.

A box with
instructions inside.

Give them to me.

No, I--I must give them
to Childermass.

He's to take them to Lady Pole
and when Strange sends word--

Give them to me.

And...

I am to tell Norrell
that, uh...

That Strange is--
is coming back.

Oh.

Disgusting superstitious
nonsense.

You are a fool.

I must deliver it!

These are important
instructions.

Strange will kill me.

Do you not understand?

Your messages
will never be delivered,

except the one for Norrell and
that I shall deliver myself.

Henry...

Henry, please. Please.

Do you honestly believe

I would allow you
to destroy Norrell?

Which is to say,
destroy me?

Henry, please. Please!

It is well
you have come, sir.

Lady Pole has taken
to her bed for some days now.

We cannot wake her, sir,

as much as we've tried.

The doctors have
found nothing.

It is our belief, sir,

that Lady Pole
is not mad at all.

We believe she is under
an enchantment.

Who writes to my wife?

Jonathan Strange.

May I speak with
you a while?

It would be a pleasure.

I've been in contact
with your husband.

I am to watch over you.

When the time of our
disenchantment comes,

I will show you the path.

Until then please try
to hold some memory

of who you once were.

- And of your husband.
- Husband?

My ladies,

this is the very picture
of beauty.

To see my two rarest
and finest flowers

entwined so happily.

You know, it is said,

that in the lands
on the far side of hell,

they dance a dance
of three partners.

I was taught it once
4,000 years ago,

but sadly,
I have forgotten the steps.

So I shall content myself

with just one partner.

- My lady.
- Allow me.

Stay safe, my friend.

Ah!

Your coachman made
a leisurely ride of it, I see.

Where's Drawlight?

Yes. Strange gave
Drawlight a message.

What does it say?

He says that he is coming.

That is all.

Strange is coming to England?

To you, sir.

- To do what?
- To fight.

To exact his supposed revenge.

Oh, my dear Lord.

But, sir. No, no. Sir.

Sir, this is our chance
to destroy him completely.

Establish you
as the only authority

- on magic in the realm.
- To fight?

What on earth
were you thinking?

To come here without
Drawlight. Where is he?

He's gone back
to Bruton Street.

Bruton Street?

Our Lucas will fetch him.

They'll have him here
by tomorrow.

- Lucas!
- No! No, no, no, no.

He's gone to visit
an uncle in Chatham.

- Where in Chatham?
- I do not know.

I need to strengthen the
labyrinth around my library.

I will be safe there.

We must hurry.

Bloody useless.

I've been wondering,

have there ever been
magical duels in the past,

struggles between magicians,
that sort of thing?

Ralph Stokesey seems
to have fought

two or three magicians
by magic.

Then there is a curious tale

of the Cumbrian
charcoal burner.

Did such duels ever result
in the death

- of one of the magicians?
- What?

Uh, no. I do not think so.

The magic
must exist, surely?

If you gave your mind to it,
I daresay you could think

of half a dozen spells
that would do the trick.

Or you could make one up.

I do not make magic up.

It would be like
a common duel

with pistols or swords.

There'd be no question
of prosecution.

It will not come to that.

My dear Mr. Norrell, what else
could it possibly come to?

Magic has apparently
returned to England.

England needs
a magical leader.

You, sir.

We must clear your path
of every obstacle.

Fear not, sir.

I will help, I will advise,

I will be with you
all the way to the top.

What do your little
cards say now?

They say you are
a liar and a thief.

They say that you have been
given something,

an object of great value.

It is meant for me
and yet you retain it.

How dare you address
a gentleman in such a fashion?

Is it the act of a gentleman
to steal from me?

You whoreson, you dregs
of every Yorkshire gutter.

Apologize!

Better a whoreson
than a thief.

I will teach you
better manners.

It is done!

We are safe as long
as we remain in this room.

- Mr. Lascelles.
- He called me a thief!

He is a thief.

He stole this.

Give that back to me!

Mr. Strange sent it.

And my cards say
Drawlight is dead.

Sir, what colors will this man
show when Strange arrives?

This law unto himself,

who receives gifts
from your enemy.

Your enemy meant me
to take it to Lady Pole.

With your permission, sir,
that is what I will do.

No.

No, you do not have
my permission.

You cannot take it.

Goodbye, Mr. Norrell.

You've made
the wrong choice, sir.

As usual.

Traitor. Johannite.

If I were you, Mr. Lascelles,
I would speak more guardedly.

You are in the north now.

Our laws were made
by the Raven King.

Our towns and abbeys
were founded by him.

Mr. Norrell's house
was built by him.

He's in our minds
and hearts and speech.

And he's coming back.

Childermass...

Give me the box.

The Raven King.

Always the last resort
of vulgar minds.

Come here and face me!

Mr. Lascelles!
We mustn't leave the library!

Come back! Mr. Lascelles!

Stay with me. You'll get lost!

Mr. Lascelles!

Childermass,
you coward!

Childermass!
Come out and face me!

Mr. Norrell?

Mr. Lascelles!

Mr. Norrell?

Mr. Norrell!

Childermass!

Mr. Norrell! Unlock this door!

- Mr. Norrell!
- Mr. Lascelles!

Who's there?

Mr. Norrell!

Seven people
from Norwich in 1124.

Four from Aysgarth in
Yorkshire, Christmas, in 1151.

Twenty-three
at Exeter in 1201.

One at Hathersage
in Derbyshire in 1243.

It was a problem
he never solved.

- I beg your pardon?
- The Raven King.

He could not prevent fairies

stealing away Christian
men and women.

Why should I suppose myself

capable of something
he was not?

Where is Childermass?

He is gone. He received a...

A box from you and he left.

I liked
your labyrinth.

- You use Hickman?
- De Chepe.

A minor scholar,
but very good at labyrinths.

It was meant to be
impenetrable.

How did you break it?

I did
what I usually do.

Copied you and added
some refinements.

Please. Please,
Mr. Strange. Please!

It is not I.

It is the fairy's curse.

The spell grows stronger,
and I weaker.

- I do not have much time.
- What did you expect?

Opening a pathways
to other lands,

breaking everyone's mirrors.

Disreputable magic, sir!

This is its consequence.

Boo!

Please, Mr. Strange. Please!

Get out of my library, sir,

or I give you warning
I shall--I shall--

Do your very worse,
Mr. Norrell.

I am changed.

Do you really believe
you can challenge me now?

I have warned you.

Don't laugh at me.

Please.

It is cruel to laugh.

Rain is very...

I may not have
your imagination, sir.

I may not be as daring
a magician, but--

You do yourself a disservice,
Mr. Norrell.

I'm sorry I laughed.

You have not come here
to kill me.

No, sir.

But I have been your enemy.

Yes.

I have slandered
and plotted against you.

Why are you not angry?

Because I do not
have the time.

My wife is stolen
and I am dying.

This Darkness will kill me
before I can save her

if I work alone.

Alone?

You wish something from me?

What is it?

What I've always
wanted, sir...

Your help.

Good lord, Mr. Childermass,

whatever happened
to your face?

Someone mistook it
for an apple, Mr. Honeyfoot.

Mr. Black.

Childermass?

I wish to speak urgently
to your master.

He's with Mr. Strange.

Excuse my interruption.

Mr. Strange sent this to me.

I think he intended that
we use it to help your wife.

Then it is true.

I had thought this
the ravings of a madman.

Is it from Strange?
May I see it?

He writes that you serve
this creature, Stephen?

- Sir--
- Whose servant have you been?

- Sir Walter--
- You have betrayed

the trust of my family.

- Please, sir.
- You have colluded

in the theft and torture
of your Lady.

Please, sir!
May I speak freely?

There was once a priest...

What?

There was once a priest

called Elidorus
who--who hid in--

hid himself
in a hollow beneath a tree.

- Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey.
- No, no, please.

- You are a savage!
- In order--

in order to commune
with what he believed...

- Lock him up.
- But were in fact...

Honeyfoot!

Mr. Segundus!

- Daniel!
- Put him in!

- Careful.
- Get him out.

If I understand correctly,

your wife is under a very
particular magical contract.

To break such a thing
is very hard.

Uh, as I recall Belasis says

the 100th anniversary
of the bargain

is often an auspicious moment.

Arabella.

I have his book here.

Lady Pole.

As I understand it,
the death of the enchanter

brings to an end
all such contracts.

- Immediately.
- No English magician

has ever killed a fairy.

- Not since the Raven King.
- But it can be done.

Mr. Strange,
it is my strong advice

that you do not set
yourself against him.

You will only bring
a worse fate upon yourself.

Upon those around you.

What worse fate
could I suffer? Tell me.

I am dying and my wife
is a prisoner

of the creature
you unleashed upon the world.

I do not know
what you are talking about.

I do not know any creature.
I do not know what you mean.

Enough.

- He cheated me.
- Of course he cheated you,

that is his nature.

You knew that
as well as anyone.

You will have read it
in your books.

I only meant to do it once.

I tried time and time again

to prevent you
from falling into my mistake.

You might have done that
by telling me the truth.

We cannot kill a fairy.

This is your responsibility,
Mr. Norrell.

All that has happened has
been a direct consequence

of your actions.
You unlocked a door

that had been sealed
for centuries

and you had not the courage
to close it again.

I'm sorry,

but I have absolutely
no idea how to help you.

I do not have the knowledge
to fight or defeat a fairy,

and if I get it wrong,
my wife would be lost forever.

So I set to thinking,

and I thought how there was
one man in all the world,

in all the worlds
that ever were,

who would know
how to defeat my enemy.

One man who would know
what magic to do.

I realized the time
had come to speak to him.

But I must tell you

that I no longer regard myself
as your superior.

My reading has been
more extensive than your--

I did not mean you.

I meant John Uskglass.

The Raven King.

No magician has killed
a fairy since he.

I intend to summon him here.

I intend to place all of
English magic into his hands

and then I shall
command him to do it.

There is a danger, sir,

that if we succeed
in breaking the spell,

the lady will return to the
state she was in before.

Namely, death.

She has often said
she would rather be dead

than as she now is.

You should try
what you can do.

Summoning the Raven King

is a very dangerous idea.

The greatest difficulty
is that we do not know

what to call him.

The spells of summoning,
especially the old spells

of election require one be
most particular about names.

Surely John Uskglass
is his name?

No, that is the name
of the Norman aristocrat

who The Raven King,
our John Uskglass,

claimed as his father.
But that is most disputed.

It need not matter
that we do not know his name.

Of course it matters.

He was stolen into Faerie
before he could be christened.

- If we use an ordinary spell--
- No, he became

the nameless slave,
Mr. Strange.

- Nameless being the key.
- If we use an ordinary

English spell of summoning
then we can make the elements

of the spell identify him
for us. Can we not?

No, no, no, no.
Of course we cannot.

And I never heard
of such a thing.

This house was built upon

the Raven King's land,
correct?

With stones
from the King's abbey.

The river that runs outside
bore the King on its waters.

And in...

And in my garden
is a pear tree

that is a direct descendent
of some pips

that the King spat out

when he sat
in the garden.

If we let the abbey stones
be our envoy,

the river be our path--

And the orchard pears
be a handsel.

Then we may name him simply,
"The King".

And the rivers
and stones and the trees,

they do not know any other.

Which summoning spell
should we employ?

This book contains
the best I know.

It is the spell you used
to summon Maria Absalom.

This is my book.

I could not destroy it
utterly, Mr. Strange.

It is the most beautiful book
of magic I have ever read.

I will fetch some pears.

It requires a spell.

What about Drake's

Restoration
of Flown Tranquillity?

No. Chauntlucet, perhaps.

Or Martin Pale'sRectification.

Come along, gents.

We must know something
to the point.

We are all magicians
and England is full of magic.

I do know one spell
that might...

Do the magic.

Wait here a moment.

I suggest we go to Hurtfew
and seek out Mr. Strange.

No, that is just
what we must not do.

And why is that, sir?

Strange wishes my wife
to remain bound.

He instructs her
to stay there.

This is why she sleeps.

It's a spell to join
together two articles

which have parted.

I have been wrong.

This was not meant to be.

Mr. Strange tells
Lady Pole to wait.

Why?

You know the enchanter,
Mr. Black.

The man with the answers,
he is hanged.

Which man?

He was the book
of the Raven King.

He said...

my fortune was written
on his body,

and the fortune
of your masters--

Vinculus.

I helped hang him.

Where did you hang him?

Where did you hang him?

In a ravine not far from here.

I've had his spell
for a long time.

Sir... Sir!

You must not
let them do the magic.

- What?
- He will punish them.

Segundus, wait!

Stop! Stop!

They have stolen her from me.

Thieves!

English thieves!

Stephen!

Why have you brought me back?

I was supposed to stay.

I was to show Mrs. Strange
the safe path out.

- My darling. Oh, my darling--
- No. Not yours.

- What?
- I was sold.

Bargained away for the sake
of a wicked man's career.

What are you saying?

My own...

Mrs. Strange will be lost.

Lady Pole is gone.

It is too soon.

You told me Childermass
had my letter.

No, I said he had a box.

I do not know anything
about a letter.

We must do the magic now!

Sir, what happened?

I'm off, Mr. Black.
I have to find a hanged man.

Please let me free!
Open this door!

Open this door
and let me out!

Why does he
not despair, Stephen?

Why does he not just fail

as he is meant to and die?

Stephen, what are you
doing in that tiny room?

Are you ready?

Your hands are shaking.

It is because I am afraid.

My hands trembled
like that in the Peninsula

and after Waterloo.

Sometimes it was a sign
that I was afraid.

Sometimes a sign that
I was doing great magic.

The two things go together.

Mr. Strange, you have been
in the darkness longer than I.

You will die first.

If we should fail in this,

then I will continue trying
to free your wife

with all my power
for as long as I live.

I do not believe
we are destined to fail.

This is the magic
we were born to do.

They have
locked you in, Stephen.

They have bound you fast.

We must go and kill them all.

It is rare that anyone
released from an enchantment

is permitted to live long,

not if I have enchanted them.

Come, Stephen!

Let the abbey stones
be the envoy sent

to seek the King.

Let the Hurtfew beck

be the path by which
the King shall come.

Let the fruit
from the orchard trees

be the handsel
the King will receive.

Let the moment
of this flames death

be the time
the King shall appear.

Where has he gone?

Dammit, where has he gone?

This is my body, sir.

You have been warned, sir.

Let him be. Let him--

We must summon
him back! Quickly!

Kings do not do as other men.

He has come,
he saw us and he's gone.

Well, do not just stand there.
What is his fairy name?

That is lost.

What... what about that other
thing you mentioned,

- the nameless--
- The nameless slave.

That is
what he calls himself

in the prophecy.
Let us try that.

The Black King.
The King in the North.

The Nameless Slave.

That is extremely imprecise.

You were hanged, sir.
You were hanged!

I have changed.

I've changed.

I do not say what
I said before.

Well, what do you say now?

I don't know, books
cannot read themselves.

Come on.

I must bring you to
my masters.

Come on.

What gift will you offer him?

I will return
his magic to him.

The magic of England's trees,

hills, her sunlight,
her water, earth and stones.

Stephen!

Come.

Sir! I beg you, please.

Do not harm Her Ladyship.

My dear, beautiful,
indifferent lady.

- Stand behind me, Emma.
- I will do no such thing.

I have in mind for you

a fate so exquisite.

I have had my fill
of you gentlemen

taking what you want of me.

- Sir, I beg, please do not.
- But I have my voice now,

and I say you are a bore, sir.

An uncivilized, unsightly,
filthy bore,

with your tasteless clothes
and with your hair like...

Thistledown.

Thistledown?

- Sir, perhaps if--
- What on earth is it, Stephen?

Why are you firing
walnuts at me?

You need to give him a token.

A proper physical artifact
to signify the gift.

And what token
could possibly signify

that you will give him
all of English magic?

No.

No, not my books.

No, no. He cannot
have my books.

Sir, I am not about
to stand here

and summon the most
powerful magician

who has ever lived
and say to him,

"I offer you all
of English magic, apart from,

"I am sorry,
Gilbert Norrell's books."

- Half of them.
- Mr. Norrell!

We will both soon be dead.

There will be no leisure
for reading.

Two-thirds.

This lady is under
our protection.

Return to your
other lands, fairy, and...

Release them!

- Walter...
- If you lay one hand on her,

I swear I will--

You have not the right, sir.

For years you have been
quite happy

to see your beloved
endure her trial.

I have been no such thing--

Walter!

You have sold her

and blinded yourself
to the consequence.

I command the magic of
England's stones,

trees, wind
and water to rise up.

Release them. Release them!

Now you may kill them.

He has despised you.

He took your name.

And she has treated
you like a servant.

No, sir! No!

I command that
all of English magic

to put itself into the hands
of the Black King.

The King in the North.
The Nameless Slave!

He has made you a slave.

He has made me as much
a slave as you have.

I command them
to bring him here

and bind him to kill
the Master of Lost-Hope.

Kill him.

Kill him!

My library.

My books.

That is not
the Raven King.

Mr. Strange.

Mr. Norrell.

That is
Sir Walter Pole's butler.

Come, Mr. Norrell.

I have but one shot
and I mean to use it.

Mr. Lascelles, come here.

Come here by my side.

I will do no such thing.

What have you done?

Stephen...

What have they done to you?

My beautiful,
gracious Stephen.

We...

We have channeled
all of English magic

into a butler and shot him!

Stephen, the most noble soul

in the whole world,

is gone from us.

And the world
shall be punished!

Mr. Strange.

Mr. Strange.

Oh, please, no. Please!

We have failed.

We have failed.

I was told we should fail.
I did not believe it.

The butler still has all
of English magic inside him.

There may be something
we can do.

If we can find him before
he takes his last breath,

we can instruct him.
But we must find him now.

They have gone to Lost Hope.

I cannot follow him there
by the King's roads.

The fairy has closed the path.

But not from me.

And mirrors are not
the only way to travel.

"The rain shall make
a door for me

and I shall go through it."

We are not done
with this yet, Mr. Strange.

We are not done
with this yet!

This is Faerie.

Oh, it worked.

Oh!

Oh, why I have not
done this before, eh?

There are plenty
of uses for rain.

There is nothing wrong
with good English rain!

And the Black Tower
has not followed us here!

Fairy magic is seductive,
Mr. Strange,

Because by its very nature
it is instinctual,

impulsive and unpremeditated.

But the creature uses
allegiances

with the forces of nature
within the Christian world,

our world, not his,

ergo his curse
will not affect us here.

I am not dead.

Oh, Stephen,

you are full of magic.

Oh,
this recalls me to my youth.

Oh, I once pictured myself

a dashing magician
traveling to Faerie.

Come, Mr. Norrell,
we have work to do.

My wife is here.

She's enchanted.

Mr. Strange,
spells of perception

were covered
in the study plan.

Disenchantment
is in Sutton Grove.

Go, do your magic.
I will look for the butler.

I feel power.

Power.

It is the power
of English magic, sir!

Use it to destroy this beast!

You.

No.

It is foretold

that I should become King.

Yes.

We shall be Kings together.

You in England,
I in Lost Hope.

It is destined that
I should kill the King

and take his place.

And now I see that
you are that king.

Oh, Stephen.

Bell. Arabella!

No more!

I command the wind!

Arabella!

Bell!

Who are you?

I command the stones!

Stephen, no!

Remember me?

You are
destroying my beautiful house!

Jonathan?

Jonathan Strange!

- There you are, my love.
- Jonathan Strange!

I am very glad to see you!

I feel like
I've just woken up.

And yet I still seem
to be dreaming.

I command the trees!

Come. Come.

Touch this mirror
and think of home.

I will follow
after you directly.

No, no, no.
I want to wait here with you!

No, you must go. Please, Bell!

Trust me, Bell. It is a path
made for you alone.

It will lead you
to my friends.

I will follow.

Do you promise me?

Jonathan?

No, no. Jonathan!

Is this... Is this Faerie?

No, madam.

- Is it in England?
- It is Venice.

Is Jonathan here?

You are Mrs. Strange.

Please tell me
that Jonathan's here.

This is a house
of depraved cruelty!

Mr. Black, let us help you!

Go!

Stephen, no!

I can tell you

your true name!

I am the nameless slave

and I answer to no master now!

She's in Italy!

She's in Italy.

Well, Mr. Strange,

no English magician
has ever killed a fairy.

I'm not at all sure
how we did it,

but it is done.

I must go to my wife.

England is full of magic
and it should be used.

You are a great magician,
Mr. Norrell.

And you are my friend.

Goodbye, sir.

Goodbye.

We are trapped!

We are still in the darkness.

He is dead.
His spell cannot outlive him.

- I do not know.
- Can it?

We know so little
about this magic.

I cannot die here.

We are... We are but men.

Mr. Strange.

I've been
under this spell for too long.

Mr. Strange.

Jonathan.

Jonathan...

My friend.

I will not leave you,
Jonathan.

Do not be afraid.

Look at me.

See...

I am not afraid.

I am not afraid.

Hold...

We are too late.

They've gone.

Do you still not understand
John Childermass?

They are the spell.

They are the spell
the Raven King has spun

and that is all
they have ever been.

He is spinning it now.

Wellington's
the man, they say...

To be Prime Minister.

He has the taint of magic
on him to be sure, but...

Tell me, do you still
enjoy dancing?

I'm going to the continent,
Sir Walter, to help my friend.

I do not intend
to live here again.

I will not go from one kind
of helplessness to another.

There is no more news
from England?

No.

I'm afraid he's not returned.

He was so desperately in
love with you, Mrs. Strange.

It is here.

They believe it is
still cursed.

Arabella.

Bella.

Here.

My love.

Jonathan!

I'm very pleased to see
you, Arabella.

I thought you were dead.

Oh, my love,
what happened to you?

I am just a reflection.

What?

I'm sorry, I cannot stay long.

Why?
I don't understand? What...

And where are you?

I'm not entirely sure.

I'm not entirely sure
I am anywhere.

You look well, Arabella.

I'm miserable, Jonathan.

Do not be miserable.

I do not suffer.

I'm happy that I have seen you
back to yourself again.

It hurt me more than
I could bear

to think of you under
the earth.

I would have done anything
to fetch you safely out.

And you did it.

You did it.

And one day you...
You will find the right spell

and you will come back to me.

Yes, one day.

I will wait.

Bell, do not wait.

Do not be a widow.

Be happy.

Remember the happiness
before the magic.

Jonathan... Jonathan!

If you do not return,

so help me, Jonathan,

I will come
and I will find you

and I will
bring you back myself.

My wife.

My love.

Goodbye.

Jonathan.
No, Jonathan. Jonathan.

Some years ago,
there was in the city of York

a society of magicians.

Some of them
were gentleman magicians.

But only some of them.

For things were not quite
as they were

before magic came back.

Strange's book
was full of black magic.

Mr. Tantony and I
had met Mr. Strange

and he's a book thief
and a murderer.

He certainly murdered his wife
and probably Mr. Norrell too.

Gentlemen!

Some of you may remember me.

I was here some years ago

when Mr. Norrell
did the magic at the Minster.

My name is John Childermass.

I was, until last month,

the servant
of Gilbert Norrell.

I have summoned you here
to tell you

your agreement
with my old master is void.

You are magicians once more
if you wish to be.

And for whatever good
it will do you.

Is Mr. Strange coming?

Yeah, and what about
Mr. Norrell?

You must make do with me.

Where are the books?

All the books of magic in
England have gone with them.

Except for one.

This is a book Norrell
long desired and never saw.

A book Strange
did not even know existed.

It is the Raven King's book.

It held their fates once
and it may still.

It is my hope that we may
decipher its meaning together.

Vinculus.

He was a prophecy before.

The things he has foretold
have come to pass

just as they were ordained
by the Raven King himself.

And now his words
have changed.

What are you now, sir?

I don't know.

Maybe I'm a recipe book.

Or a collection
of pompous sermons.

Or perhaps,

I am a novel.

I hope you are
what you always have been.

The key to our future,

maybe even theirs.

Where have they gone,
Childermass,

Jonathan Strange
and Mr. Norrell?

I do not know.

Wherever magicians
used to go perhaps.

Beyond the sky,

on the other side of the rain.