01x04 - All the Mirrors of the World

Episode transcripts for the 2015 UK TV show "Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell". Aired June 2015.*
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"Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell" is a seven-part British fantasy adapted from Susanna Clarke's book of the same name. Set in England at the beginning of the 19th century, the series presents an alternate history where magic is widely acknowledged, but rarely practiced. Two men are destined to bring it back; the reclusive Mr. Norrell and daring novice Jonathan Strange. So begins a dangerous battle between two great minds.
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01x04 - All the Mirrors of the World

Post by bunniefuu »

Who the devil do you think you are?!

I am Strange.

Indeed.

a*tillery!

Lady Pole is there.

Mm-hmm.

She doesn't see.

Why in the world would you be sad for her?

'Because she is... beset by such horrors.'

Lady Pole? Madam, please, will you help me?

(He roars)

I am home.

I beg you... I beg you to stop trying to persuade Mr Strange or anyone else to understand your predicament.

Argh!

She was not mad before the magic.

She was dead, madam.

Madam! Madam!

(g*nsh*t)

(She screams)

Let me go! Let me go!

Norrell! Norrell!

I'll have her hanged!

I shall have you hanged!

No!

(She continues screaming)

Let me go! No! No!

Quick.

No!

(He gasps in agony)

No!

Oh, no!

Never have I been done such grave injury!

What will this do to English magic?

I...

My reputation has been ruined and my servant has been sh*t, sir!

Allow me to take her away. Please.

Everyone will ask why she did this!

But nobody knows who sh*t at you.

We may put it about that it was a French spy.

Lady Pole may be put in an asylum.

The whole business will be put behind us.

No breath of scandal will attach to you.

Sir.

No!

(He exhales)

(He gasps)

(He coughs)

(He hyperventilates)

Echoing: VOICE: All magicians lie. That one more than most.

Oh, yes.

Why were you performing Belasis's Scopus?

How long have I slept?

And where did you learn such a thing?

How can I do my work when I'm constantly betrayed in this manner?

You taught me yourself... in case I should come across anyone who said they were a magician.

You were afraid...

That does not explain why you were performing it in the square.

Because there was...

There was magic everywhere.

No.

Who was that woman?

Which woman?

The one who sh*t me.

That was Sir Walter Pole's wife.

What? No. No, she was a magician.

There was power.

What was that magic?

It was mine.

It was the magic I did to bring her back from the dead.

That was not your kind of magic.

Who else's should it be?

(Childermass coughs)

I confess there may have been some irregularities that have caused her to take an odd turn.

An odd turn?

(He groans in pain)

Perhaps you were drunk.

Have you ever known me to be drunk in the performance of my duties?

Mr Norrell, that place just breathed magic and she was at the heart of it.

Where was it?

There was no place.

Depend upon it.

There was no such place.

The matter is closed, Childermass. It is the last I will hear of it.

What happened to her?

She returned with Sir Walter.

We agreed... to say nothing further.

He wishes to send her to Bedlam, but Bedlam is a little...

People may pay half a crown to go to look at the lunatics there.

People will go to stare... and people will wonder.

Horror.

I've been in the most desperate need of you, but you've been useless.

You've been asleep for days.

Forgive me.

I am awake now.

You may allow me to take care of Lady Pole.

I'll make certain of her.

And what about your brown jacket? That's very sober-looking.

I've been getting myself dressed since I was...

Yes, yes, yes - but you're married now.

This really is a bothersome thing.

It's a splendid thing! I'm very proud of you.

Look, let me help.

I hope you do not find home dull, Jonathan.

The gentleman at Sir Walter's house said that once you'd tasted w*r, you were sure to be bored at home.

Bored?

Mm.

How could one be bored? With everything clean and just so.

And all one's books so close to hand.

And one's wife, just there whenever one...

Thank you, Mary.

Besides, one can hardly be bored with people sh**ting at magicians every hour of the day.

Hope they catch the French swine.

Mm.

Do you have to go back to Norrell?

I'm in the middle of my apprenticeship, Bell.

I need Norrell.

I need to study with him and address certain questions, which I... require an answer to.

That is all.

I need be no more close to him than that.

Besides, I was in the Peninsula.

I think I can look after myself.

Mm.

Hm...

You're very handsome, Mr Strange.

Although your hair does have more grey in it than it did before the w*r.

I think you are very beautiful, Mrs Strange.

I'm terribly sorry. Er, my... carriage was caught behind a man driving cows in Eton Wick.

As I said, I fail to see what good we are to do.

Magic cannot cure madness.

Well, it does no harm to try.

At the very least, the Prince will give us his Royal Warrant.

Then we may say we do magic by Royal Appointment... and that is very respectable.

(Harpsichord plays melodic tune)

(Harpsichord hits bum note)

Whispering: His Majesty, the King.

(Harpsichord plays discordant notes)

(Discordant notes repeat)

I am Gilbert...

(Discordant notes repeat)

I am Gilbert Norrell, Your Majesty, of Hurtfew Abbey, Yorkshire - the restorer of English magic and the greatest magician of the age.

And... And I'm Your Majesty's servant, Jonathan Strange, of Ashfair in Shropshire.

Magician-in-Ordinary to the army during the late w*r.

It is the hope of Your Majesty's children that our magic may afford you some relief from your...

(Discordant notes repeat)

.. illness.

Ah... thank you. I seem to be very clumsy this morning.

Yes, ma'am.

Do you know a lady called Miss Grey?

No, ma'am.

Mr Strange has never mentioned a Miss Grey to you?

No, ma'am.

You've been walking out with Davey, have you not? Mr Norrell's man?

Oh...

I... I do not mean to pry.

He is very dashing.

He has such a thick Yorkshire voice, you can picture him going about the moors in a most romantic fashion.

Has he mentioned the sh**ting?

Oh.

Only that it was a French spy.

Do people know who it really was?

Davey has not put it about. He knew it was a secret.

It is that Mr Drawlight who, begging your pardon, cannot keep a still tongue.

She is to be put away somewhere.

They do not know where.

Thank you, Mary.

I hate to say it, Mr Strange, but it was exactly as I had imagined.

There are still so many misconceptions about the kinds of magic that we do.

Only the other day, I heard Lord Castlereagh remark that you had, at Wellington's insistence, employed black magic in Spain.

Why, I corrected him of course.

I told him that we only do "modern magic for the modern age".

Mr Strange?

I've seen statues of him in the North and engravings in books.

I never saw a painting before.

Hm?

The Raven King.

That gentleman there with the silvery hair - that would seem to be one of his fairy servants.

Yes.

Yes, and there is a unicorn and a manticore and other similarly ridiculous creatures.

This is a picture of everything that has disgraced and crippled English magic for the last 300 years.

What magic did you attempt?

All of Norrell's old favourites.

They did not work.

I do not consider that he much wanted them to work.

Hm.

I was at Lady Westby's house yesterday afternoon.

I met a young lady there who seems to be under the impression that you're teaching her.

Stylish girl. Not handsome, but... very rich.

Really?

And apparently wild for magic.

Miss Grey.

She has a room decorated with your pictures.

(She chuckles)

She told me that she's paid you 400 guineas to be your...

To be your pupil.

Well... I think I might forget a young lady, but I do not think I could forget 400 guineas.

Then why has she said it?

To make me jealous? I...

What am I to say to her?

Tell her I did not receive the 400 guineas.

Bell, you know I do not take pupils.

Norrell would have a blue fit, for one thing.

I do not understand. I do not understand why people must...

One does one's best, and then, all of a sudden, you're in the middle of a...

Do you know who sh*t Norrell?

Yes.

Well, then, let us not pretend about it any more.

I hope you do not make yourself uneasy about Lady Pole.

Please do not give yourself any blame.

I feel I was stupid, Jonathan.

I'm not even entirely sure that I considered that she was in fact mad.

Will you go back to the King?

Norrell will not.

Perhaps I might go back.

Perhaps I might find a path where Norrell cannot.

Please do not do it because you think you might be able to find a way to help my friend.

Very kind of you, but please do not do it.

Well...

I'm finished with it, Jonathan.

It's too painful to think about.

'Of course, Mr Strange,' my book naturally gravitates towards Mr Norrell's many achievements.

Chapter two concerns the wonderful events at York, the talking statues...

It is a good opportunity to dispel forever the rumour that I use magic to do laundry.

It is a very fine book, Henry.

Lord, I've enjoyed reading it.

Forgive me, gentlemen, I have an... appointment.

Then, of course, the rain ships at Brest, the sea-beacons...

Oh, are they finished?

For the purposes of the book.

There are then 15 chapters dealing with the pernicious nature of the magic of the past.

The remaining two detail our hopes and suggestions for what modern magic might achieve.

Oh, erm, Mr Murray has given me a few more days to come up with a final chapter on Mr Norrell's greatest and most prestigious challenge - his attendance on the King.

Shame it did not work.

We may turn that to our advantage.

Mr Norrell has long held the view that magic cannot cure madness.

Will you mention Lady Pole in this context?

No.

We think it important to present your trip to Windsor as a heroic and patriotic attempt to do magic that simply cannot be done.

Well, we did not attempt absolutely everything.

We attempted every functioning spell that might be applicable.

Well, perhaps there might be spells which... have fallen into disrepute, or have been misreported...

I do not understand what you mean.

I think what Mr Strange is trying to say is that, considering the myths and superstitions which have grown up over the last 300 years, it is near impossible to extract any meaningful magic from the way that things used to be done at all.

Ah.

That is what you meant to say, is it not, Mr Strange?

Yes.

(Harpsichord plays discordant notes)

(Discordant notes repeat)

Well, Your Majesty, this has been a great pleasure.

Perhaps my tutor was right.

(Discordant notes repeat)

(Discordant notes repeat)

(Mr strange whispers under his breath)

(Discordant notes repeat)

(Walls creak and rumble)

(Discordant notes repeat)

Worth a try, eh?

I do not see you, magician, but I see your companion very clearly.

With such silver hair as he has, I ought to be able to see him very well.

Your Majesty?

A king, say you?

Well, that's all very well, but I am bound to observe that I have never heard of any of your kingdoms.

Lost-Hope?

Where is Lost-Hope?

The City of the Iron Angels? Where is that?

I am King of Great Britain, sir, a place everybody knows and is clearly marked on all the maps.

Sir?

Do not be angry.

I am a king, you are a king.

Let's all be kings together.

Your Majesty, can you hear me?

I would dearly like that.

The last time I was permitted out of these rooms was on a Monday in 1810.

946 years ago.

Your Majesty?

Whoa! Whoa!

Whoa, whoa.

May I be of assistance, sir?

Sir?

(Metal clangs)

Sir! Sir!

Let this music be the envoy sent to summon the King.

Let this slipper be the handsel the King shall receive.

And let the moment of this flame's death be the moment the King shall appear!

No! No! No!

No!

(Harpsichord plays discordant notes)

(Discordant notes repeat)

I believe this is yours, Your Majesty.

This act will have consequences, magician.

Where did you go, sir?

(Discordant notes repeat)

A most serious matter has arisen, Stephen.

All our wonderful plans have been rudely overturned, and once again it is the stupid magician who thwarts us.

Who was that old gentleman, sir?

Why, the King of England, of course.

I had brought him here so that you might fulfil your destiny, by cutting off his head and taking his place.

But the King has 13 children, sir.

The crown would be passed on to one of them and certainly not to a man such as I.

No, the King's children are all fat and stupid.

Who would wish to be governed by such frights, when they might instead be governed by you, Stephen, whose noble countenance would look so well upon a coin?

But what should we do?

About what, sir?

The magician, Stephen. He is our enemy.

We must destroy him utterly and take his wife.

Oh, Stephen.

You are brilliant.

Of course, it will be very hard to find, but it will destroy him utterly.

What will, sir?

Moss-oak.

We must find and awaken a moss-oak.

If we use it well, the magician will bargain her life away.

And the beauty of it is, Stephen, he will have no notion that he has done so.

Sir!

(Horse whinnies)

Why are there no spells to cure madness, sir?

Because the Aureates did... Where have you been?

Windsor.

What?!

I'm sure I read once that fairies have a strong interest in madmen.

Is that true? Is it not in Chaston? Where is Chaston?

It's on the north-westerly bookcase.

What occurred there, Mr Strange?

Windsor, Mr Strange?

Yes...

Is it your belief, Mr Norrell, that fairies have left England completely?

And what of mirrors?

I remember a reference in Ormskirk to a kingdom that lies behind reflective surfaces, full of the most remark...

What is all this talk?

I'm sorry, but when I was with the King...

It was agreed we could do nothing for the King.

Yes, but you see, a very odd thing happened with His Majesty...

Well, if you persist in doing magic without reference to me, Mr Strange, odd things will happen.

We must keep to our agreed plan.

We must stand together upon it.

It is more important now than ever it was. Is that clear?

May I speak frankly, sir?

You've heard whispers of it, I'm sure.

But when I was in the Peninsula, after the loss of your books - for which I am very sorry -

I performed magic which... you might not have considered respectable.

Magic of older times.

I'm not proud of it, sir, but often, sir, it worked.

It may have worked in an imperfect sort of way.

Perhaps because you were not in England...

No, no, no, no.

This was a different sort of magic to anything we have done up to now.

It felt different...

Things are done in times of w*r - or for the furtherance of noble causes - which might be most regrettable in times of peace.

I do not say you should be ashamed.

I do not say that.

You have always said that that magic - the old magic - was no longer possible.

It is not.

But of course, there may be remnants here and there...

I do not think these things were remnants, sir.

Mr Strange, I have been studying magic for 40 years.

We dare not meddle with such things.

They are only half-understood.

But surely it is precisely BECAUSE it is only half-understood that we MUST!

If there exists a magic beyond the magic that we do...

Then we let it alone.

We must say that modern magic is the only way, or we will end up beggars in yellow-curtained tents!

This other magic, it will not do, sir.

It will not do.

Have you read the proof of Mr Lascelles' book yet?

No, not yet.

It is a very fine book.

It is my hope that it will establish Norrellite magic for the modern age.

Do you understand?

Yes, I believe do.

Whoa!

You are the madhouse-keepers?

I have a letter for you.

Ah, Lady Pole. My name is John Segundus.

This is my friend and colleague Mr Honeyfoot.

Welcome to Starecross.

Madam.

For your own good, madam.

So, you are the lady whom Mr Norrell brought back from the dead?

(Stephen clears his throat)

Have you been madhouse-keepers for long?

No. Her Ladyship will be our first... patient.

But you are doctors?

Not in the... fullest sense of the word.

Wheelchair: BANGS OFF DOOR Uh!

I beg your pardon.

Oh...

There we go.

Your new lodgings, madam.

So what are you, then?

Well, um...

You are magicians.

I'm not.

Stephen, turn me back to London.

No, my Lady, no.

You are Norrell's men. I am sold once more.

Stephen!

We are no friends to Mr Norrell.

Believe me when I say we are here for your benefit, my lady, and yours alone.

Well, then, you will let me go at once, and not make me stay one more moment in this place.

Stephen! Stephen, turn me back!

Stephen! No! Stephen, please!

Come back now!

Well...

Stephen!

That went very well.

Stephen!

Stephen!

(Footsteps approach down corridor)

Lascelles does not do you justice.

That's hardly a surprise.

I think it is most inconvenient to him that I did not die in the Peninsula.

Well, there's no mention at all of the magic that you did in the w*r.

Everything Norrell's ever done is puffed up to ridiculous proportions.

And the way that he tells about Lady Pole...

If you have any sense, you'll refuse to attach your name to it.

He'll only write another book.

It does not matter.

I do not concern myself with such things.

I am a magician. That is all.

You're the King's magician.

The Duke of Wellington's magician.

I am your magician, Bell.

And my own.

Anything beyond that is distraction.

I have things to discover.

Do you remember the first spell that you did?

Yes, yes, and yes again.

I remember it perfectly well.

What do you expect me to do?

Things are as they are. I... I'm sorry.

It seems to me we've lost sight of why we started on this path in the first place.

They say Napoleon is not finding exile very much to his liking.

They say he has very little to do, and very few hobbies.

It is as if Mr Davey and Mr Faraday and our other great scientists felt obliged to begin all their lectures by expressing their loathing of Isaac Newton.

Eh, you touched your nose.

You're moving the balls about by magic.

A man may sneeze, Grant, mayn't he? I have a cold.

(Grant chuckles)

Might the table be free?

No, it might not.
How is Lord Wellington?

The Duke, you mean? Concerned.

He's worried that Napoleon will return.

Why did they not give you a... baronetcy or something when they made him Duke?

Lord Liverpool says they considered it, but they felt they would have to give Norrell something, too.

And I don't think anyone quite has the stomach to call him "My Lord".

Sirs, you are talking, not playing.

Mr Tantony and I are from Nottinghamshire.

May we not play while you chat?

To ask a gentleman to break off his game before it is ended, sir, is a thing that is never done at the Bedford.

Ah... I beg your pardon.

(I didn't know...)

Well, then, perhaps you could tell me whether you think it will be a short game or a long 'un.

We do not know, sir!

This is Mr Tantony's first visit to London.

I particularly wished to show him in the Bedford, but I did not think to find the people here so very disobliging.

Well, then, I can only suggest that you return home to, er...

Nothing:-ham-shire, I think it was you said?

Are there no pigs to be fed there?

(Laughter)

Mr Tantony and I are not farmers.

We are brewers.

We have beer enough, thank you, sir.

We're not here to sell beer!

Mr Tantony is being instructed in magic by Mr Strange himself.

What?

Oh, yes.

Mr Strange writes Mr Tantony letters full of the most remarkable advice.

Such as?

I will not tell you.

You can come to your own arrangement with Mr Strange.

You pay Mr Strange?

Oh, yes. 70 guineas.

And you have not met him?

No, but we hope to.

We're going to go and stand outside his house tomorrow.

What advice does he give you?

Uh...

Tell him.

Oh, yes.

Well, the other day, Mr Tantony asked for a spell to make it stop raining in Nottinghamshire.

Mr Strange wrote back to say he would never employ such magic.

He said - did he not, Mr Tantony? - that in meddling with English weather, we meddled with England, and in meddling with England we risked destroying the very foundations of English magic.

Have you ever said such a thing?

Yes, but not to these gentleman.

Sir, I am Jonathan Strange and I've never heard of you before today.

You are the victims of a hoax.

Yes, indeed.

You are no more Mr Strange than my wife is.

Well, it is easily resolved.

There are any number of magical things my friend could do to prove it.

Laughing: Oh, yes? And what might they be?

Yes, tell us, Merlin.

Good Lord!

Where did he go?

Er...

And how is Mr Strange?

Oh, busy, madam.

Busy.

But only yesterday, he inquired most particularly after you.

I should think so.

I have paid him more than 100 guineas, sir.

The very last of my money.

Oh, but think of the good it will do, madam. An investment.

You see...

(Walls creak)

How thin the walls are.

You see, Jonathan Strange is...

(Walls creak)

Jonathan Strange is a...

(Walls creak and rumble)

(Echoing footsteps approach)

Jonathan Strange...?!

Ah!

I hope you'll be so kind, madam, as to forgive the lateness of my visit.

The way was a little more meandering than I had anticipated.

I am Jonathan Strange.

Mrs Bullworth.

At last.

I have taken the liberty of writing, by each of their names, the magical punishment which I believe ought to be theirs.

But I should be glad of your recommendations, since you are to carry them out.

"Mrs Bullworth Senior..."

My mother-in-law.

".. to be drowned in a laundry tub.

"To be choked to death on her own apricot preserves.

"To be accidentally baked in a bread oven."

Forgive me, Mrs Bullworth, but even the greatest magician who ever lived could not k*ll the same person three different ways.

Well, as much as you can manage.

And Mr Bullworth. What should I do to him?

A disfiguring disease.

Bankruptcy. Lunacy. Fire.

A villain to lie in wait for him and cut off his...

Mrs Bullworth...

You have been the victim of a deception.

I have never undertaken commissions for private individuals.

Not Gatcombe, not Tantony, not Miss Grey.

I never even heard of you before tonight... and I have never employed this... person.

Drawlight!

I am sorry for it, madam.

Drawlight!

We waited several hours for him to return from the mirror, madam, but he did not, so we thought we would come here and see if...

Ah, he's here, Ma'am. He's quite safe.

Has something happened?

Blockhead.

Where on earth have you been?

Shoreditch. You were not afraid, were you? I was perfectly all right.

I always am.

Well, tell us, where did you disappear to?

I do not have words to describe it.

It... It is another land entirely.

Everything Norrell and I have done is as nothing.

It is the most amazing place I have ever seen.

Shoreditch?

Do not be flippant. Shoreditch is where Drawlight was.

You have been with Drawlight?

Yes, he's been arranging for me to do every sort of black magic one can think of.

Why?

Hm. Money, I presume. He ran away, which is a pity, as I had a great mind to challenge him to a duel.

Oh, it's duels now, is it?

But what happened behind the mirror?

I discovered... the King's Roads.

The ancient paths between this land and the other realms.

They have been closed for hundreds of years, but now... they are open again.

That was where I went.

That does not sound very safe, Jonathan.

Safe? Oh, no, I do not think so.

But then I flatter myself that I am not particularly safe.

And when I return...

Oh, return?!

So, you will be losing yourself in this place every moment that Norrell can spare you, whilst I remain here in the most miserable suspense, wondering if I'm ever to see you again.

Bell, what on earth is the matter?

The matter?!

You are set upon putting yourself in the most horrible danger, and just expect me to say nothing?

I was in the Peninsula...

I know you were in the Peninsula.

You never cease to tell me that you were in the Peninsula.

But having been in the Peninsula, it's not some sort of magical charm that grants you immortality.

When I went to w*r, you were perfectly composed.

I was nothing of the sort.

I was horribly afraid for you.

But then, you had a duty, and you had the entire British Army beside you.

There, you will be entirely alone! I... I say "there", but none of us know where "there" is, do we?

I know exactly where it is.

It is the place Norrell has tried to keep from me from the beginning.

Really, Bell, it is a little late to decide you do not like my profession.

It was you who demanded I get one.

Do not you dare say that to me, Jonathan.

I have never said a word against your occupation.

Until today, you have always been content to make your discoveries in books.

Books! I'm not permitted to read half the books.

Bell, try to understand...

Everything that has happened to me of late - in the Peninsula, with the King, this evening - it has convinced me there is more magic possible than I ever dreamed.

You have no idea where these paths lead.

No, and that is the glorious, wonderful thing of it.

Promise me that you will not go out on those roads again.

No.

Well, then I withdraw my demand.

I don't want you to have an occupation, Jonathan.

I'll have you idle. I'll have you the man that I married!

Damn magic to hell. Damn where it's led us.

Well, thank you for a pleasant evening.

Whoa, whoa.

Ah, Henry. So very good of you to see me.

Ah, erm...

Where... Where is he?

He's at home. I've never seen him so angry.

Let me talk to him.

Absolutely not.

You are to have no contact with him until I tell you that you might.

If he knew I was meeting you, he would have my head on a spike.

Norrell owes everything to me.

Without me, nobody would ever have heard of him, or you.

There would be no book.

You could not do without me then, and you cannot do without me now.

On the contrary. It is most desirable that we do without you.

Damn you!

What convinced you you could succeed in such a perfectly absurd scheme?

I should call you out here and now.

I'm sorry. The money wasn't... for me... My...

My... My debts.

Will you please help?

I'm at the limit of my endurance.

Well, we shall see.

Where are you staying?

I'm at The Shakespeare's Head.

Go there and wait.

And if you ever risk my standing with Norrell again - listen to me -

I will k*ll you myself.

Thank you, Henry. Thank you.

On to Mr Norrell's house.

Oh, and, Lucas, take these to the bailiffs at the King's Bench.

Tell them they're an enumeration for the outstanding debts of Christopher Drawlight, and he may be found and arrested at The Shakespeare's Head, Covent Garden.

I've been considering the matter very carefully - in fact, I have thought of little else.

We must revive the Cinque Dragownes.

The what?

It is a medieval court established to punish false magicians.

Thankfully, the medieval law was never revoked.

But Drawlight is not a magician. Surely a common-law court...

No. His crimes were specifically magical crimes.

We require a magical court.

What other security do I have?

When people att*ck me in the street?

When other magicians - evil magicians - might arise to challenge my authority, to contradict me?

I have to have a court of my own.

Mr Norrell, it is not the duty of any court to exalt one person's opinions above another's.

If other magicians think differently from you, you must battle it out with them.

You must argue and publish and practise your magic, and you must learn to live as I do, in the face of constant criticism, opposition and censure.

That, sir, is the English way.

But the Cinque Dragownes is our best chance of having him hanged.

Hanged?

Mr Norrell, I feel his injury as deeply as you, probably even more so, since it was directed at me.

But I will not be the cause of another man's death.

I was in the Penin... I have been at w*r, sir.

I have seen enough men die.

In any case, I scarcely think Drawlight is any more to blame than you.

Why, what have I done?

Well, what possessed you to go out on the King's Roads?

People will think I approved of what you did that night.

And why should you not?

It is a momentous discovery, sir.

The size of it, the complexity.

Come with me, sir. It is a glorious sight.

Staircases so high I could not see the top of them, and everywhere, in the halls, on the bridges, carved into the very stones, his likeness...

Whose?

The man who built it all, sir.

John Uskglass, the Raven King.

The man we have slandered in everything we have said and done.

There is a great wealth of magic there, sir.

We may go forth together, you and I, and discover it.

What you did will do more to bring English magic into disrepute than anything Drawlight has done.

It is no surprise that he turns out a villain.

But you - you are the Second Magician in the land!

Why did you come to London, sir?

Why did you undertake the restoration of English magic, if not to DO English magic?

To make it respectable.

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

I am going home.

Is it finished, then?

Yes. I think it an excellent little book.

Your help was invaluable, Mr Strange.

May I borrow it?

Keep it.

Please. Keep it.

Thank you.

I'm sorry for the concern that I gave you, Bell.

I'm sorry for the things I said.

I'm sorry for any sadness my occupation has caused.

Well, as you said, it was I who suggested that you get it in the first place.

You were not specific.

I had in mind, in fact, that you might become a justice of the peace.

Or a landscape gardener.

I did not consider that you might become one of the greatest men of the age.

It has surprised me somewhat too.

It is published.

You were right.

If it's published, then what are you doing?

I'm writing a review of it.

You cannot review a book that you helped to write.

I believe I could... if I were to say it is an abominable book.

Jonathan...

If I say it is a fraud.

You're not in earnest.

Why not?

Because you leave yourself open to...

What would Norrell say?

You cannot publish it.

I fear I must.

Then you and I will go home.

What do you say?

My Lady, I am very sorry you do not care for us... but if only for your own sake, you must eat something.

Untie me.

They say that you might hurt yourself.

I'm sick of men in coats deciding what is best for me.

I may very well hurt myself.

But I belong to no-one but myself.

Half my life, I am in chains.

The other half, I deserve to be free.

Untie me.

Stephen...

Stephen, do you have a g*n?

sh**t him! sh**t these men!

No!

What are you doing here, sir? I thought you were ill.

I am better now, and you have Lady Pole.

Lead me to her, Mr Segundus.

Mr Childermass, please...

I have ridden a long time and I have many questions for the lady.

Your letter asked us to take Lady Pole into our care.

It did not say that you would visit her.

It did not say that you had any rights over her.

It seems to me that Mr Norrell has done enough.

I do not know what Mr Norrell has done.

He will not tell me. I am here on my own account.

I am sorry, but you cannot see her.

You will take me to her now.

You may have your ways of carrying on.

You may shut down societies, steal people's books, rob them of their livelihoods... but I will NOT have you distressing a lady, sir!

That is where it will stop!

I have this loaded with all sorts of unpleasant bits and pieces.

And I do not expect you would care to be sh*t twice within the space of two months.

Take yourself off to your master... and think again.

I will return.

Remember this, John Segundus.

There's less to this lady than meets the eye.

Oh, I'm very glad I did not have to sh**t.

I could only find walnuts.

Let us get inside and make sure Lady Pole isn't too distressed by this.

The Edinburgh Review.

He has m*rder*d my book!

All we have strived for!

"Gilbert Norrell Esquire And Mr Strange promises to set out the current wondrous state of English magic, in all its modern glory. I say that if this is what modern magic is to be, I do not wish to be modern. Give me the mysteries and dreams of the past, for they shine brighter than any of Norrell's restrictive rainy days."

That is not all, sir.

"Norrell's book reads like a letter from my great aunt. Succeeding admirably in representing all that is most absurd, constipated and dull about the blinkered Norrellite position. Surely magic should be magical? Surely magic is to dream? Where is the wonder of England's past? Of magic's golden age? There is no mention of the Raven King, except to insult him and strike him low, to purge him from what we do. Norrell calls this the magic of the modern age. I say it is commonplace, mundane. I say that there is much more to English magic than this. There is no mention of the discoveries I have made at my peril... No mention of the Raven King's Roads - or why they have been hidden behind the mirrors of England. Norrell is too afraid to question why The Raven King would do such a thing, too afraid to explore where those roads might lead. Afraid it will take us to places we never intended to go."

We must not let this stand. You must not!

Do you really think the Raven King cares what happens to England?

He does not.

He abandoned us.

Abandoned his throne, rode out of England, and took the best part of English magic with him.

Surely that is enough to mark him out as our enemy?

His magic is not gone now.

There it is, hidden behind our mirrors.

It is coming back.

That is the magic of madness.

That is wild, cruel medieval magic.

We cannot have fairy princes ruling England alongside generals, dukes and mill-owners.

Such magic belongs to an England that is dead.

And it is out of our control.

Then we must learn to control it. We cannot simply ignore it.

Do not think me ungrateful, sir, but... I believe the period of our collaboration is over.

It seems to me that we are too different.

Well, in temperament, perhaps, but we are both magicians, and that is all either of us cares about.

If you leave this house today, you follow your own course.

Who are you going to talk to, as we are talking now?

There is no-one.

We will be quite alone.

I'm sorry, Mr Norrell... but ever since I came back from the Peninsula, it has not felt right for me to call myself your pupil.

Well, then, we let it be a partnership of equals.

The books that I should have lent to you and have kept from you, you shall have them.

We should go to Hurtfew, you and I.

You shall have the keys to the library.

I shall not even challenge that review.

Let it stand, let it stand.

I'm honoured, sir.

You are not usually a man for compromise, I know.

But I think I must follow my own course from now on.

Come, sir.

Perhaps we can do without these, for now.

I must go back to Harley Street.

I am sorry for it, my lady.

It is ridiculous to part so, Stephen, when we both know we will be together again in only a few hours.

Do not be concerned about me.

I feel I shall be more comfortable here.

I feel I shall.

Good day to you, gentlemen.

I beg your pardon...

I do not wish to give you the wrong impression of me, but, um... may I ask you something?

What is it, sir?

What is the magic... that surrounds you and her ladyship?

There is a rose at your mouth.

And another at hers.

I see it.

As clear as day.

What... does... that... mean?

I do not know what you are talking about, sir.

Good afternoon.

I will not go out on the King's Roads again.

What?

We'll go back to Shropshire, and I will cease to do practical magic.

I will write down my thoughts in a book.

I will become a theoretical magician.

Jonathan.

I've had enough of these battles, Bell.

(Knocks on door)

Various battles in various wars...

You were right.

We've lost sight of why all this was done.

We've had no time to be married.

And I would like that time very much.

So would I.

I would like it to begin now.

(Footsteps approach)

I am sorry to disturb you, Mrs Strange, Merlin, but Napoleon is back.

He has landed in France.

He has marched upon Paris, and he has captured it.

What?

The Duke wants you to join him in Belgium.

He asks you to renew your commission.

No... I cannot, we...

I cannot go to w*r.

There is no choice.

The St Serlo's Blessing leaves upon the high tide in three hours' time with you and me on it.

I am sorry, Mrs Strange, but your husband is the army's magician and we have need of him.

Goodnight.

You should do as we planned.

Go back to Ashfair.

Make it nice.

I'll be back before you know it.

No, you will not.

Not before I know it.

You are my entire life, Bell.

And you're mine, Jonathan.

Yes! I have found it.

The moss-oak is in there.

Reach in, Stephen. Take it.

That's it, Stephen. Can you feel it?

There is nothing, sir.

It wants to be born.

Argh!

Pull!

My fingers!

Pull!

Argh!

That's it, Stephen. Strength.

Argh! Argh!

Arrrgh!

(Stephen pants heavily)

For a thousand years, it has been waiting to learn what form it will take.

What is that, sir?

The tears of the lady, shed in pain.

Ah!

(Reptilian croaking)

Beautiful.

Beautiful.

Well?

Our conditions - how did he receive them?

You told him what we agreed?

You told him that, unless he publishes a retraction, we shall be forced to reveal what we know of the black magic done in Spain.

You told him that under no circumstances would you accept him as a pupil...

No.

No, I told him none of those things.

You were right in the beginning, sir.

There can be only one magician in England.

We must now consider him our enemy, sir.

We must work to destroy him... before he destroys us.
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