All language subtitles for Jonathan.Strange.And.Mr.Norrell.S01E07.720p.HDTV.x264-FoV

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!

Argh!

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.

~ 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.

Argh!

Can I not help you?

When the time is right,
you will know.

Aaah!

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 report

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.

Absurd!

Where is Norrell?

Where is Mr 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...

.. er, that Strange
is... is coming back.

Disgusting superstitious nonsense.

You are a fool.

I must deliver it!

These are important instructions.

Strange will kill me.

~ Ah!
~ Do you not understand?

Your messages will never
be delivered, except the one

for Norrell, and that
I shall deliver myself.

Argh!

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 have 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 have 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, 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 have 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.

And 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? Er, no. I do not think so.

The magic must exist, surely?

If you gave your mind to
it, I dare say, 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 would 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. Apologise!

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!

Mr Strange sent it.

And my cards say Drawlight is dead.

Sir, what colours 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!

00:14:35,880
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.

23 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 like 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.

Argh!

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
the pathways to other lands.

Breaking everyone's mirrors.

Disreputable magic, sir!

This is its consequence.

Ah!

~ Ah!
~ 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.

Do not 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... in a
hollow be-beneath a tree.

~ Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey...
~ No. No, please.
~ You are a savage.

In order to commune
with what he believed!

~ Lock him up.
~ Honeyfoot!

~ Daniel!
~ Careful. Get him out.

Get him out.

Sir Walter!

If I understand correctly,

your wife is under a very
particular magical contract.

To break such a thing
is very hard. Er...

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 realised 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 yours...
~ 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 that one be most
particular about names.

Surely John Uskglass is his name?

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.

But 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!

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's Rectification...

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's sleeps.

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?
~ Huh?

WHERE did you hang him?

In a ravine, not far from here.

I have had this spell
for a long time.

Sir.

Sir!

You must not let them do the magic.

~ What?
~ He will punish them.

Mr Segundus, wait.

Stop! Stop!

They have stolen her from me.

Thieves! English thieves!

Stephen!

Ugh!

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 set 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.

'And let the moment
of this flame's death

'be the time the King shall appear.'

Where has he gone? Damn
it, 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 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've changed.

I've changed.

I do not say what I said before.

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 you. Please do not.

But I have my voice now and
I say you are a bore, sir.

An uncivilised, unsightly,
filthy bore,

with your tasteless clothes

and with your hair like thistledown.

"Thistledown"?

~ Sir, perhaps if you would...
~ What on earth is it, Stephen?

Why are you firing walnuts at me?

'You need to give him a token.'

A proper physical artefact
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.

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...

Argh!

Agh!

Release them!

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!
~ Argh!

You have sold her and blinded
yourself to the consequence.

Argh! Argh!

I command the magic of
England's stones, trees,

wind and water to rise up.

Release them. Release them!

Re...

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 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...

~ Argh!
~ Argh!

What have they done to you,

my beautiful, gracious Stephen.

We...

We have channelled
all of English magic

into a butler...

.. and he shot him!

Stephen, the most noble soul

in the whole world.

He's 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...

This is Faerie.

Oh, it worked!

Oh! Why I have not done this before?

There are plenty 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.

This recalls me to my youth.

Oh, I once pictured myself a dashing
magician travelling to Faerie...

Come, Mr Norrell, we have work to do.

My wife is here.

She is 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!

Argh!

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. No, Jonathan!

~ Is this Faerie?
~ No, madam.

Is it 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!

Argh!

She is in Italy! She is in Italy.

Well, Mr Strange, no English magician
has ever killed a fairy.

I am 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.

Ugh!

~ 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. We are...
~ I cannot die here.

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.

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 am 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 has 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.

Bella.

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'm anywhere.

You look well, Arabella.

I'm miserable, Jonathan.

Do not be miserable.

I do not suffer.

I am 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 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.

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...
~ It was his daughter...

Mr Tantony and I met Mr Strange,

and he's a book thief and a murderer.

He certainly murdered his wife,

~ and probably Mr Norrell, too.
~ Gentleman!

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.

For whatever good it will do you.

~ Is Mr Strange coming?
~ 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.