Original subtitles

When daggers are pointed at innocent hearts and muskets are ready to fire.

When tyrants ride high and govern with fear as the forces of evil

conspire. Then from out of the night, a hero must rise. A turret that

even a mask won't disguise.

They turn to the man.

And offender of all is this man who the people acclaim.

He's the one who strikes back for the poor and oppressed.

A hero.

Water. Our Earth is half submerged by it.

Actually, 70 % of the Earth is under the surface of the water.

But this water is unlike any you will ever see.

A dead bird.

Found today by Sergeant Mendoza and myself.

To those who believe death is everlasting, you are about to be proven

Perhaps the lady could lend her grateful hand to my effort.

Now, if you will kindly, senorita, pour some water onto the belt.

Thank you, senorita.

Next, we come to the guillotine.

Really quite spectacular.

Must have switched birds somehow.

Nonsense, his hand never touched it.

Do we still have an unbeliever?

Senor Kepico, perhaps you would like to help me in my next trip.

Put your hands through there.

So, what is the secret of the magician this time, Signor Skeptico?

Two different blades.

I must say, you are quite impressive. Almost as impressive as this fine

timepiece.

I believe this belongs to you.

Sir, if you would please donate whatever you can before I must disappear from

your pueblo.

Your assistance is appreciated, senor, as well as your beauty.

Magnificent vintage.

Smooth texture.

Rich in character.

Such timeless beauty.

Forgive me.

These hands, they are so delicate, so fine.

They are the hands of a magician's assistant.

I'm sure one must have other qualifications as well.

Only one.

You have a speck of dirt.

Imagination. It's lovely.

Thank you.

Please excuse me. I have to finish.

A woman as beautiful as you, stacking bottles.

You deserve better.

I like managing the tavern.

I am happy here.

I too was content before I saw the world.

I'm sure there's much to see.

Only if shared with the right person.

Oh, it's all right. She's not hurt. It's only an experiment.

All night, I've wondered how could Foucault bring a dead bird back to life

without substituting a live one?

For example, if I said to you there are gold coins pouring out of your ears, you

wouldn't believe me.

You see?

It's an illusion.

And like all illusions, preparation is the key.

Now, this morning, I trapped this bird and fed her a few drops of wine.

As you can see, she's fallen so deeply asleep, she could easily be mistaken for

dead.

I propose Foucart's bird was simply drunk and the water revived her.

Must have fed her too much wine.

But how could Foucart know exactly how much to use so the bird would sleep

the proper moment?

Unless...

Unless he added a stimulant to the water, that's it.

Where is he, Sergeant?

Eating rather heartily, I see.

Oh, to settle the nerves.

Tonight, a shipment of gold bullions is arriving.

I have to guard it.

Why does it seem so difficult?

Last week...

A shipment was robbed near San Francisco.

The driver was attacked by a giant fireball.

Fireball? That's interesting. I've never seen one.

I only know how to fire bandidos.

I know nothing about fireballs.

Except that it's a mistake to catch one with your bare hands.

So, how are the men doing, Sergeant?

Oh, fine, Senor Foucault, and thank you for your help.

You were in the military, Monsieur.

No, no, just a scholar.

Sergeant Mendoza explained his tactics for defending the shipment. I merely

shared Napoleon's strategy of protective formations.

She hurt her back. I manipulated her spine to relieve the pressure.

And Señor Motate with his neck.

You should stay with us a bit longer.

Oh, I wish I could. It's one of the lovelier pueblos I've ever seen.

Your father mentioned you are a man of science.

There is science in magic and magic in science.

Perhaps before I leave, we can sit down and share secrets.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have travel plans I must attend to.

Senorita Escalante, could you please bring me dinner tonight in my room at

Something about him.

He is a likable fellow.

Mr. Foucault?

Senor Foucault?

It's nine o 'clock.

I'll leave your dinner here.

Good night, senor.

Thanks to fear fireballs don't appear out of thin air

Hit me

Almost

The shipment!

Good night.

Pyrocytic sulfate, a volatile substance with many different applications.

When mixed with water, it produces a powerful stimulant which

accelerates the nervous system. Watch.

Now,

when mixed with alcohol, the effects are dramatically different.

What?

Exulfate?

Alcohol.

The more powder and alcohol, the greater the flame.

Or fireball.

It seems that two mysteries are solved in one.

It was Foucault on the road last night.

He's not in his room.

Did you happen to see him last night?

As a matter of fact, we took a walk together in the moonlight.

When?

I don't think that any of you are concerned, Don Diego.

It's just that I had plans to meet with him last night. He never arrived.

Well, he was in his room sleeping.

Perhaps he had forgotten.

Quite.

Well, I'll see him later.

Victoria, when my wife died, I shut my eyes in the hope of ever finding another

woman. They opened when I found you.

Live with me, and everything you could ever want will be yours.

Everything that I want is here.

This tavern, the people who depend on me. Victoria, I love you.

You are a very charming man.

But I'm afraid my heart belongs to another.

I cannot leave.

When I love someone, I expect that love to be returned.

I will not leave without you.

Well, I'm sorry. You have no choice.

Then I'm afraid neither do you.

Love is a game in which I never surrender the bride.

Mr. Foucault, I heard you were leaving and I thought I'd drop around and say

goodbye. Ah, thank you.

Have you heard the wonderful news, Senor de la Vega?

Senorita Escalante is leaving with me.

Is this true?

She has turned me into a new man.

Now that would be magical.

Excuse my dropping in.

I have no quarrel with you. I do not believe the senorita wishes to leave.

I don't believe it's any of your business, outlaw.

Oh, a beautiful woman is never business, only pleasure.

Last night I prevented a robbery on the highway.

The bandit escaped, but I slid his coat.

Why not show us your coat, monsieur?

Oh, it's full of new tricks, I see.

All I wanted was a quiet meal.

Swordplay is more than just survival.

It's an art.

Your skills do not impress me.

And yours are merely cheap illusion.

A rope tied to a wigged mannequin, a fireplace billows that cough, all so

think you were in bed last night.

But justice is more certain than either the hand or the eye.

Trickster by day, highway robber by night, most creative dual identity.

Zorro's disowned.

Enjoy your last moment of life.

I assure you, it shall be magical.

It's all loose ends appear to be tied up.

Bon voyage, Monsieur Foucault.

I feel like such a fool for believing his lies. Oh, you mustn't blame

What an exciting afternoon.

I just overheard Sergeant Mendoza telling of Foucault's capture.

I can't believe I let myself be taken in by him in the beginning.

It's just that he was... He was, um... Charming?

Handsome?

Yes.

You're the worst kind.

Well. I have something to cheer you up.

What if I told you I could pull a rabbit out of my hat?

I wouldn't believe you.

Ah.

Well, it worked at home. I swear.

Yes, I think we should be going. Oh, yes.

How

did

I do that?