All language subtitles for the_avengers_s05e08_the_hidden_tiger

Ugh!

Williams was found in here, Mrs. Peel.
Sir David Harper's butler, I gather.

Butler, valet, general factotum. His
services were terminated just there.

All the family silver's intact. It's a
motiveless murder.

Not a single clue, just a few shreds of
evidence.

Whatever did that, Mrs. Peel, was wild.

Inhuman, bestial. I wouldn't argue on
that point, Sir David. Yet it appeared

without warning.

And disappeared without a trace.

Which I believe carried it clearly into
your territory.

No, I'm not concerned with my own
personal safety, but you know what? I'm

running down here.

Some kind of experimental farm, isn't
it?

Dairy products, among other things.

I'm in charge of research.

And you feel an attack on the farm?

We've valuable livestock out there, Mrs.
Peel.

And whatever killed Williams is still on
the loose.

We've got to find it, and quickly.

We'll check around the grounds.

Same way.

No

footprints?

Nothing.

Looks as though it could have been a cat
of some kind.

We plead not guilty.

No, Mrs. Peel, I think it was something
a little larger than that.

There's the devil.

He's with us. Watch him.

Watch him close.

Well, I hope my party piece hasn't bored
you, Mr. Steed. On the contrary, Major

Nesbitt. It brought back the full flavor
of the hunt.

Giant of a beast, eh?

Weighed a quarter of a ton, if he
weighed a pound.

Had quite a job carting him back.

You brought him back?

Yes. Here?

Yes. There he is.

That's him.

I reckon I know as much about the big
cats as any man living.

That's why I'm here, Major.

Ruthless. Natural -born killers.

Even in captivity, you'll never subject.

Nothing walks the earth more cunning,
barbarous, and savage.

Killed an entire village, this chap.

Interesting. I used to keep a small carp
once.

Got too big.

In the London Zoo now.

Couldn't risk him getting out.

Tiger on the loose would create havoc.

One already has. Two of your neighbours
were mauled to death not a mile from

here. Sir David Harper and his butler,
Williams.

Harper? You knew him?

Yeah, served on several committees.

Mauled, you say?

Yes.

Impossible, Steed.

This isn't just an ordinary nose.

This is a built -in cat detector.

If there was one on the loose, I'd know
it. Well, assuming there was one, where

would you start to look for it?

Ah,

it can't remain hidden for long.

A beast that size needs meat, and plenty
of it.

David carried out most of his research.
That's right. New feeding techniques,

fertilizers, livestock breeding.

He tackled them all. Very important
work.

Definitely. But hardly what I'd call
hush -hush.

Hardly. And through here?

That's the specimen store.

Morning, Peters.

Morning, Mr. Eskin. This is Mrs. Peel.

Morning.

Perishable specimens were stored in
here.

Milk, meat. All the facets of our
experiments.

Interesting. Well, I think so. But
again, nothing sinister about it.

You're looking for a motive for Sir
David's murder.

I'm just looking, Mr. Erskine.

Mr. Erskine.

Mr. Erskine.

Mr. Erskine, sir.

It's the bull, sir, the prize bull.

What about it? It's been attacked, sir.

It's dead.

Dead?

What could do that to her?

A full -grown bull.

What, indeed.

Your security here seems pretty strict.

How strict? Stricter than you think.

The farm's ringed with tracks. Look.

We put them down to safeguard the
poultry against the odd fox or dog.

Nothing could pass this barrier without
our knowing.

One foot in the wrong place and...
Reminds me of old days in Bengal. Is

anything more exciting than hunting the
big cats?

The shank.

That's just what we're in for.

The shank. But not my shanks.

I don't fancy my profile up there.

Remember, old man, I bag the head.

Make a nice companion set.

Let's bag the big cat first.

Let's organize a safari. Just like the
old times, eh?

Like old times.

Unusual old man.

Woman on a big game hunt.

Unusual woman.

All set, Mrs. Peel?

Nor, nor east.

Best to stay upwind of the cattle.

Let's split up.

I'll make for the high ground.

Anything on the prowl lower down, you
should spot it from here.

I'll cover the farm area.

On your own down there, won't you be
lonely?

I shan't be on my own.

Erskine's working late tonight.

Thank you.

It's illogical, Mrs. Peel. Three men
mauled to death and not a single report

an escaped lion or tiger.

Or anything.

If you want my view, someone's heading
for disaster.

Disaster?

Sorry.

My hat.

Humour in milk.

Milk and its derivatives.

Do you mean to say you've waded all the
way through these?

I think the word is skimmed. What about
the David's notes?

Nothing in them to suggest a motive.

Oh.

Back on safari.

I'm prepared.

Here, take this.

It'll pick up the slightest sound, so
what the eyes can't see... The ear may

very well hear.

What? You're not switched on.

Oh.

You play it your way, we'll let the
Major play it his way.

And what has the Major in mind? A secret
recipe.

What's his recipe?

What did you say?

What does it do?

Attracts the big cat steed like honey to
bees.

They can't resist it.

Never been there to fail.

It carries for miles.

It looks delicious.

It is.

I'm sure, but will it work?

I'd stake my life on it.

Is there enough room in there for a big
cat?

That's not for the cat, old man.

That's for me.

Be safer inside.

Now. If you'd oblige.

Better make yourself scarce, Steve.

And, uh, watch the waterhole.

Thank you, Major.

Remarkably loud and clear, Mrs. Peel.

Where are you nestling?

I'm high up on a hill between the farm
and Nesbitt's place.

It's a perfect bird's -eye view.

Well, the miniature mics are scattered,
all ready to switch on.

Hold on a second, Mrs. Peel.

Cheers,

Steve.

Cheers, Mrs. Peel.

I thought everybody had left.

I had a few things to clear up.

You still on safari? Yes. Do you want to
come along?

Not me. I haven't forgotten that bull.

Or Erskine.

Who was that?

That was Peter.

Not the most chivalrous of gentlemen.

We're few and far between.

May we now establish radio silence?

Mrs. Peel?

You hear it?

Yes.

What is it?

I don't know.

It's heading your way.

It's getting quite near.

Can you see anything?

Not yet.

Mrs. Peel!

Mrs. Peel, are you all right?

Yes, I'm fine.

What was it?

I fell over the empties.

Oh.

I thought I heard... Shh.

Whatever it was, it was here.

And now it's turning north.

I've got it.

And now it's moving west.

Due west.

Towards Nesbitt's place.

I'm on my way.

All right.

Were you a friend of the deceased?

Not exactly.

You will be sadly missed.

He was always such good company.

Cheshire. Edwin Cheshire. John Stead.

Yes, he was indeed a true companion.

You may proceed, gentlemen.

Hardly ever spent a night out on the
tile.

Very commendable.

He had his funny little ways, of course.

Don't we all?

Yes.

Used to love to take a snooze inside the
back of this harmonium.

I cured him of it, though, sleeping in
the harmonium.

Poked him out with my umbrella.

I smeared his nose with butter.

It's a sure cure.

Rather drastic, I should have thought.

Here he comes now.

Courtney of Chippenham, champion of
champions.

Is there a cat lover anywhere who will
not mourn his passing?

Farewell.

Farewell, faithful, fair and fulsome
feline friend.

But life must go on.

You've come to join PUR, no doubt.
Indeed. The Philanthropic Union for

Relief and Recuperation.

Of cats?

But of course of cats.

Those leggy, lovable, nightsome
creatures. We care for them. We care for

all. Oh, it's a lot of work. Great deal
of work.

Why, in London alone, our membership
stands at... 1 ,110 ,043. Ah, Angora.

Application form for Mr. Steed, please.

Thank you.

Now, Mr. Steed, the name of your beloved
pussy?

Oh, Emma.

Emma.

Pedigree? Family trees that long.

Coloring?

Reddish brown.

Oh, a cuddly bronze tabby. And what a
joy for you it must be when she's curled

up in your lap.

Well, I've never thought of it that way.

Fine, please. Thank you.

Now, may I offer you a drink?

Well, I wouldn't say no. Good.

Let's see, we have homogenized,
pasteurized, full cream, dairy special,

Or perhaps you'd prefer a short.

Well, I... I've got some condensed here
somewhere.

No, it is a little soon before lunch.
Oh, but it's the food of the gods.

And gods these creatures are.

Worshipped by earlier civilizations.

Such grace, beauty and intelligence.

It was said that one day cats would
inherit the earth.

And one day, Mr. Steed, they shall.

One day.

On the bottle again, Cheshire.

Dr. Manx, may I present Mr.

Steed. How do you do, Dr. Manx? Hello.

Dr. Manx is our medical advisor. He sees
everything in very cold and clinical

terms, I'm afraid. No feeling, no
rapport with our feline friends at all.

after them well, though. Ah, there we
see eye to eye.

You're joining per, Mr. Steed? Just my
cat.

Very wise move.

Mr. Cheshire here will look after your
cat's welfare, and I shall look after

health. Splendid. You deal with all
cats?

Naturally. All cats are welcome here.
Even the big ones.

Don't forget your brochure, Mr. Steed.

Oh.

He went that away.

A to D?

E to K.

Ah.

Philanthropic Union for Rescue, Relief
and Recuperation of Cats.

A feline paradise run by a man called
Cheshire. So that's our Mr. Purr.

You read on. That'll make you bristle,
you beautiful bronze tabby.

Sir David, Major Nesbitt, Erskine. The
three men. Four.

Bellamy was mauled to death about an
hour ago.

Pension for committee members.

Now, who's for dessert?

Mr. Samuel Jones, unless we can get to
him first. Ah, Jones.

Jones. How about this Mr. Cheshire?

Loves cats.

Prefers them to humans. Well, they're
much more cuddly. Ah, well, they're

ones. I'd like to know where he keeps
those big ones.

Let's put a pigeon among the pussies.
Right.

While you're on the wing, Mrs. Pigeon,
I'll forage through these Joneses, Mr.

Samuel Jones.

Jones! Jones!

Jones! Jones!

Jones! Have no fear, Mrs. Peel. We'll
find your little John for you. I do hope

so, Mr.

Churchill. Oh, yes.

If we can't locate him direct, our vast
membership will certainly cooperate.

Come with me.

Now, I've noted your description, and
I've built up a composite picture, as

can see.

Now, tell me, is that like it?

No. Little John's nose is much more
aristocratic.

Of course.

Of course.

How about that?

The eyes are a little too small.

Is that better?

Yes. That's him.

You see?

Our identicat system never fails. I just
knew your society could help.

Oh, Mrs. Peel, per is not a society.

It is a union, a union of souls.

We rescue and relieve the lost,
neglected, and homeless.

And where do they recuperate?

Through there.

But first, tell me, has your little John
any other peculiarities?

Well, he's very bad -tempered first
thing in the morning, until he's had his

first glass of champagne.

Oh, do I have the right number for Mr.
Samuel Jones?

Samantha.

What a charming name.

Yes.

But I must find Samuel.

Ah, what a joyous sound. Almost time for
tea. Come in, dear lady.

Through these portals have passed a
hundred thousand strays.

Our membership includes over 90 % of the
entire feline population.

But I will not rest until every cat
wears our medallion.

Ah, look at them. I must have a look at
my tabbies. Just a minute.

Oh, hello, my pets. Ready for your tea?

Now then.

Ah, hello, Elfrida. Willington.

Can't be long, my petties.

Oh, they're so sweet.

Now, these are... Oh, I'm sorry.

The new arrivals are at the far end.

Yes. You're the heavyweight champion of
where?

Oh, there.

I'm extremely sorry to have troubled
you.

Take a peep, Mrs. Field.

Well, is your cat amongst them?

Ah, have courage, my dear. He'll return.
I know it.

And here?

That is our treatment room. And who is
that getting the treatment?

Ah, Dr. Manx. Mrs. Peel. Mrs. Peel has
just lost her dearest companion.

Not among the new arrivals.

Alas, no.

What a beautiful cat.

Oh, that one, yes.

Complete mental wreck on arrival.

Persecution mania. Thought she was being
pursued by a poodle.

But after a few sessions of psychat
therapy, look at her now.

Psychat therapy? A new form of treatment
devised by Dr. Manx. I can hardly take

all the credit.

Mr. Cheshire is our guiding light. He
supplied the finance.

Oh, that reminds me. I had a note from
the committee. Have we a description of

your cat, Mrs. Peel? Yes, yes.

Follow me, please.

Oh, it's away?

For how long?

Eighteen months with remission?

I am sorry, madam.

Well, that's all, Mrs. Peel.

We'll circulate his photograph and
description in our members' bulletin.

You'll receive your medallion in due
course. Thank you.

Don't forget your coat, Mrs. Peel.

Oh.

I'll see you out.

Thank you.

I brought the bag. All equipped?

As per instructions. Good. Zero hours
fixed for 2300.

Tonight? I thought that we... You were
never employed to think, Peters.

Saturation point has been reached. The
experimental stage entirely

There is no point in delaying the
operation.

They're still Samuel Jones.

Don't panic. The matter's well in hand.

Where on earth's that woman going?

Mrs. Peele. You know her? She was the
one at the farm with a man called Steed.

Steed?

You're certain it's her?

Well, if I need confirmation.

Leave this to me.

No. Put them on to us. They must be.
How?

Suspicious, perhaps.

So were Harper and Nesbitt.

But remember, Peters, there's more than
one way to skin a cat.

Hello?

Yes, this is Samuel Jones.

Yes, indeed, I'm on the governing
committee.

Look, Mr Jones, I can't explain now, but
you are in extreme danger.

Yes, I have your address.

Now bolt all your doors and windows and
I'll be right over.

But really, Mr. Seed, I'm quite safe
here.

I live in a penthouse flat.

Please do as I say.

Oh, very well.

I'll be expecting you.

Okay.

You can stop worrying about Mr. Samuel
Jones.

You've been dealt with.

Now for Mrs. Peel. Put that away.

We'll dispose of Mrs. Peel as we
disposed of the others.

Here.

Take her to Cheshire.

Peters, aren't you forgetting something?

Oh, Steve.

Did you trace Jones?

Yes, I traced him, but too late.

How did you get on with the cats?

Well, there's an odd laboratory there.

And a van equipped like a small
apartment.

Really?

Mrs.

Peel, I'll call you back. The cat's out
of the bag.

Mr. Cheshire.

Your sorrows are at an end, dear lady.

The lonely gap in your heart will soon
be filled.

No, don't thank me. The look in your
eyes is gratitude enough.

But supposing little John were to come
home?

Then your heart will be doubly filled.

But Mr. Cheshire... I'm so glad that we
found someone to take

care of you.

additional circuit which is intriguing
it's a recent development called an

electrophon transmits brain waves what
effect do they have on humans or

negligible with too many barriers on
animals they release the primitive

they have an effect on a cat ideal
subjects

you beam these waves into the brain of a
cat and you find yourself with a tiger

in your lap

How very obliging of you, Mr. Steed.

You saved us the trouble.

Us?

Welcome back, Mr. Steed.

Now, as you've doubtless heard,
curiosity killed the cat. Well, in this

the cats are going to kill the curious.

That equipment, it transmits brain waves
into those receivers and the medallions

there? Inside every cat, there's a
hidden tiger.

Well, I can release it.

Shortly, I shall blanket the entire
country.

Every cat wearing a medallion will
revert to its savage ancestry.

Our membership runs into millions.

Few will survive, but for those who do,
there'll be wealth.

Unlimited wealth. In banks, safe
deposits, diamond vaults.

And all by the mere flick of a switch.

Easy,

isn't it?

I think that was grounds for divorce.

Yes, it was a pity about my governing
committee, but they became curious about

my expenditure.

Still, they were very useful guinea pigs
in the experimental stage.

Ah.

Let them out and meet me in the van.

I regret my departure, Mr. Steed, but
you won't be alone for long.

It's set to transmit in exactly one
minute from now.

Goodbye, Mr. Steele.

You did say you were fond of cats.

Mrs. Peel.

What is galore?

Get that thing switched off.

Is there a master switch?

Try the lot.

Will I put the cat out?

Do.

Angora? Titus? At this moment?

Angora?

No! No, get him off me!

We just made it.

A man's doodles reveal his psychic
character.

Really? What do you think of that?

Definitely a repressed personality.

With extrovert undertones.

originality, Dr. Manx's scheme.

Fiendishly feline.

Release the savage beast within.

Tear down the barriers of inhibition.
Let the primeval instincts run riot.

Well, one thing's for certain.

By acting as we did, We narrowly averted
a terrible...

...attack.