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.
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.
Do you wish to dance with me, sir?
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 k*ll him.
You will discover I am very hard to k*ll.
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".
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 d*ad 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.
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.
Where is Norrell?
Where is Mr Norrell?
Stephen, good morning. Will you prepare my carriage?
I would like to visit my wife.
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 k*ll 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 gave me a letter for Lady Pole, and...
I've already sent it.
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 k*ll me.
Do you not understand?
Your messages will never be delivered, except the one for Norrell, and that I shall deliver myself.
Henry. Please. Please...!
Do you honestly believe I would allow you to destroy Norrell?
Which is to say, destroy me?
Henry, please. Please!
(g*n, crows caw)
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?
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.
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.
(Stay safe, my friend.)
Ah! Your coachman made a leisurely ride of it, I see.
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.
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.
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.
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 p*stol 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.
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 d*ad.
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, you do not have my permission. You cannot take it.
Goodbye, Mr Norrell.
You've made the wrong choice, sir. As usual.
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.
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!
<Childermass, you coward!
Childermass! Come out and face me!
(Door slams closeby)
Mr Norrell! Unlock this door!
(Wind whistles, whispering)
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.
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.
Please, Mr Strange. Please!
Get out of my library, sir, or I give you warning 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 k*ll me?
But I have been your enemy.
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 k*ll me before I can save her if I work alone.
You wish something from me?
What is it?
What I've always wanted, sir.
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?
Whose servant have you been?
You have betrayed the trust of my family.
You have colluded in the theft and t*rture of your lady.
Please, sir. May I speak freely?
There was once a priest...
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.
Careful. Get him out.
Get him out.
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.
I have his book here.
Lady Pole. As I understand it, the death of the enchanter brings to an end all such contracts.
No English magician has ever k*lled 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.
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 k*ll 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 k*lled 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.
She has often said she would rather be d*ad 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 sl*ve, 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 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,
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.
He was the book of the Raven King.
He said... my fortune was written on his body.
And the fortune of your masters.
I helped hang him.
Where did you hang him?
WHERE did you hang him?
In a ravine, not far from here.
I have had this spell for a long time.
You must not let them do the magic.
He will punish them.
Mr g*n, wait.
They have stolen her from me.
Thieves! English thieves!
Ugh! (she gasps)
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.
I was sold.
Bargained away for the sake of a wicked man's career.
What are you saying?
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.'
The Gentleman: 'They have locked you in, Stephen. They have bound you fast.'
We must go and k*ll them all.
It is rare that anyone released from an enchantment is permitted to live long, not if I have enchanted them.
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.
Both: '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 sl*ve.
That is what he calls himself in the prophecy.
Let us try that. The Black King. The King in the North.
The Nameless sl*ve.
That is extremely imprecise.
You were hanged, sir. You were hanged!
I do not say what I said before.
What do you say now?
I don't know - books cannot read themselves.
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.
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.
Sir, perhaps if you would...
What on earth is it, Stephen?
Why are you f*ring 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, 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.
We will both soon be d*ad. There will be no leisure for reading.
This lady is under our protection.
Return to your Other Lands, fairy, and...
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... (he gasps)
Argh! (he moans)
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!
Re... (she grunts)
Now you may k*ll 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 sl*ve!
He has made you a sl*ve.
He has made me as much a sl*ve as you have.
I command them to bring him here and bind him to k*ll the Master of Lost-Hope.
k*ll him. k*ll him!
(Ravens screech loudly)
That is not the Raven King.
Mr Strange. Mr Norrell.
That is Sir Walter Pole's butler.
Come, Mr Norrell.
I have but one sh*t, 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?
(He roars hollowly)
(Builds to a loud screech)
What have they done to you, my beautiful, gracious Stephen.
We have channelled all of English magic into a butler... and he sh*t him!
Stephen, the most noble soul in the whole world.
He's gone from us and the world shall be PUNISHED!
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!
(Both pant and gasp)
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 d*ad.
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.
It is the power of English magic, sir!
Use it to destroy this beast!
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 k*ll the king and take his place.
And now I see that you are that king.
I command THE WIND!
Who are you?
I command the stones!
You are destroying my beautiful house!
There you are, my love.
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!
(Wood creaks and groans)
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. No, Jonathan!
Is this Faerie?
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!
I can tell you your true name!
I am The Nameless sl*ve and I answer to no master now!
She is in Italy! She is in Italy.
Well, Mr Strange, no English magician has ever k*lled 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.
We are trapped!
We are still in the Darkness!
He is d*ad. His spell cannot outlive him!
I do not know.
We know so little about this magic. We are...
I cannot die here.
We are but men.
(Both yell in pain)
I've been under this spell for too long.
Jonathan... my friend.
I will not leave you, Jonathan.
Do not be afraid.
Look at me.
I am not afraid.
I am not afraid.
(Glass shatters, masonry crumbles)
We are too late.
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.
I'm very pleased to see you, Arabella.
I thought you were d*ad.
Oh, my love. What happened to you?
I am just a reflection.
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.
Remember the happiness before the magic.
If you do not return, so help me, Jonathan, I will come, and I will find you and I will bring you back myself!
No, Jonathan. Jonathan!
(Minster bells chime)
'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 m*rder.
He certainly m*rder his wife, and probably Mr Norrell, too.
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.
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.
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01x07 - Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Episode transcripts for the 2015 UK TV show "Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell". Aired June 2015.
"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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