All language subtitles for The Wild Wild West - 01x24 - The Night of the Druids Blood.Unspecified.English.updated.Addic7ed.com

Well, this-this seems
like old times, James.

Yes, sir.

Needless to say,

I'm-I'm delighted
that you just happened

to be passing by.

Happened to be
passing by?

Sir, don't you remember?
You wrote and asked...

Professor Robey?

Is anything
wrong, sir?

No, nothing.

Nothing.

Just the toll
of advancing age.

I doubt it.

I also doubt
that you asked me

to make this long detour
to the university

so I could chat
with my old professor

about his new chair
of archeology.

James, you're being
very complicated.

Not really.

I think that you're
in trouble, sir.

What?

Why...

No, you're right.

I am in trouble.

Black, horrible trouble.

And I don't know
what to do.

You just did it, sir.

You told me about it.

An excellent
place to begin...

is at the beginning.

This was the beginning.

She's beautiful.

Who is she?

Her name is Lilith.

Last year, I was
in Mesopotamia,

supervising the
Sumerian excavations.

Do you remember?

Oh, of course.
You wrote.

"The one transcendental
experience

"some people are fortunate
enough to encounter,

I have encountered."

Yes.

I did write that,
didn't I?

Can you guess what
was in my mind?

Yes.

Lilith was my great experience.

A white-haired December,

reaching wrinkled hands
out for love...

for golden-
haired June.

I might have married
the child, if...

If what, sir?

If I hadn't stumbled
on the discovery

that she was evil.

Evil beyond the capacity
of her years.

Oh, come in, Robert.
Come in.

Professor, Chancellor Kyle
and the others are waiting.

It's time to go.

Oh, oh, yes, of course.

Oh, this is Robert Perry,
my prize pupil.

Pleasure.

How do you do?

I won't ask you
to sit through the boredom

of all those speeches,

but you will wait for me,
won't you?

Yes, sir.
I'll be right here.

Wonderful man.

I think so.

I've been worried
about him, though.

Something's
bothering him.

This, perhaps.

Have you ever seen her?

Professor Robey?

With someone like this?

I've heard of girls that make
your temperature rise, but this?

Help!

Help! Help! Help!

Help! Help!

Help! Help! Help! Help...

He...!

I'm sure I don't
have to tell you

how everyone
in the department

sympathizes with you about
last week's tragic event.

Thank you, sir.

Professor Robey was
an irreplaceable friend.

Yes, of course.

Tell me, West.

When was the last time
you took a real vacation?

Hmm?

Oh!

I don't know, sir.
Why?

You've got
one coming.

I checked your MO file
the other day.

You've piled up an impressive
amount of accrued leave.

Have you ever seen
the Hanging Gardens

or the Vale of Kashmir?

Excuse me, sir,

but are you suggesting
I take a vacation?

I am.

Colonel, less
than a week ago,

I saw a wonderful old
man burn to death,

and it wasn't a case of
spontaneous combustion.

I know.

Today, somewhere alive are those
responsible for the burning,

and you're suggesting
that I look at travel folders?

Yes.

I get the message, sir.

West, do you have the idea that
our bureau is a law unto itself?

It was created on Capitol Hill;
it's answerable

to Capitol Hill.

Now I know where
the pressure's coming from.

Pressure?

I quarrel with that term.

Think of it rather

as a suggestion
from a higher echelon.

Now, sir, if you could tell me
what echelon that is.

No.

Sir, perhaps I could tell them

how important
this case is to me.

Request officially denied.

Yes, sir.

Unofficially...

Yes, sir?

The pressure-

rather than suggestion-

comes from the committee
in charge of our bureau.

The Senate
Surveillance

and Operations
Committee.

Specifically?

Specifically, from the Chairman
of that committee,

the guiding political genius

and one of the most influential
men on Capitol Hill...

Senator Waterford.

Oh, my dear Mr. West.

Excuse me for invading
your home like this, Senator.

No, no, my home is an
extension of my office.

It's always
open to you.

May I offer
you something?

Yes.

Whiskey?

Brandy?

A simple answer.

An answer?

To what?

To this question:

Why was I taken off

the Robey case?

Ah, of course.

Let me say to begin with,
Mr. West,

that I yield to no one

in my admiration

for the splendid record
you have achieved.

Thank you, Senator.

Please, let me finish,
Mr. West.

But in the final analysis,

we are all stewards
of the people.

We have a moral contract
with them,

and the terms of that contract

are that we confine ourselves
to federal matters.

But the man was
a friend of mine,

and he was
brutally murdered, Senator.

I deeply sympathize
with you, sir.

But I must again point out,

by no stretch of logic can
that be your official concern.

I am sorry.

I see.

Must you go,
Mr. West?

I have some
friends over.

I'd be honored
if you'd join us.

Thank you, Senator,

but I have to attend
to official duties.

Oh, please forgive me.

Astarte, please
come in.

I'd like you to
meet Mr. West.

Sir...

may I have the honor
to present...

my wife.

Delighted, Mrs. Waterford.

Is this a recent change
in status, Senator?

Astarte and I met
in Rome three weeks ago.

We came, we saw,
and I was conquered.

I shall never stop
blessing that day.

You approve, Mr. West?

Oh, yes, I do.

I believe everyone should find
their great happiness in life-

kings, senators
and chimney sweeps.

And even lowly professors
of archeology.

Your Mr. West
fascinates me, darling.

Do persuade
him to stay.

I have, my dear,
but he says he cannot.

Well, you've amended
the record. May I?

Then you will stay!
Splendid!

Come, I'd like you
to meet my guests.

Ah, our host
and hostess...

with a young man
bearing the name of...

James West,
it looks like.

Well, I see
that he already knows

your name, Mr. West.

Meet Asmodeus,
magician

and illusionist
extraordinary.

How do you do?

Do you always wear snakes
in your collar, Mr. West?

And now you can see why

he's going to be
my star attraction

at the Congressional
Charity Ball next week.

I promise to be unforgettable, dear lady.

Mr. West, this is my friend
and physician, Dr. Tristam.

How do you do?

How do you do,
Doctor?

Dr. Tristam is a source

of exceedingly
hostile vibrations.

He doesn't believe
in black magic.

Do you, Mr. West?

I have an open mind
on the subject.

Magic?

Oh, you put on
a pretty fancy little show,

Mr., uh...
whatever your name is.

Asmodeus.

Late of His Satanic Majesty's
Company of the Damned.

But your efforts to convince us
that it's magic,

leaves me very tired, sir.

You see?

One of little faith.

What time is it, Doctor?

My watch!
It's gone.

What have you done

with it, sir?

Doctor, call me a fraud,
a mountebank,

a charlatan, a peddler
of tired, tarnished tricks

purchased secondhand from
a Hong Kong mail-order house.

But a pickpocket?!

For shame, sir.

Now, I'm going to start
counting to ten, and...

Now, this may be
your idea of a joke,

Mr. uh, Company
of the Damned,

but as far as I'm concerned...

I've had all the hanky-panky
I'm going to take.

I want my watch, and
I want it right now.

But, my dear Doctor,
you've never been without it.

Oh, indeed.

I suppose you'll be
telling me next that I...

uh...

Ooh!

Pack of confounded nonsense.
Come along, Clay.

It's time for me to be prodded,
thumped and listened to.

My annual physical checkup.

Please excuse me.

Of course, dear.

Asmodeus, you
were magnificent.

I do my humble best,
dear lady.

Ah, but I could do
so much more,

if people really
and truly believed in evil.

And now I must ask
your leave to go.

Baal and Beelzebub
await me

along with others
at Mephisto's.

Well?

Well, what?

Well, aren't you going
to suggest

we take a turn in the garden?

How very sure you are
of yourself, Mr. West.

Only in things that matter.

Such as?

I'm sure that a snapping turtle
never lets go until it thunders.

And I'm sure that if you step
on a spider, it rains.

And I'm very, very sure

that the murderers
of Professor Robey

will dance
the minuet

from the highest
gallows.

Mr. West, how would you like
to take a turn in the garden?

How did you do it,
Ms. Waterford?

Caresses, tears,
hypnotism?

What you're really
asking is...

how did I persuade
my husband

to remove you from
the Robey case.

How nice it is
that we understand each other.

What would you do
if I told you?

Expose me to my husband?

Of course not.

You see,
your husband is suffering

from a very
rare disease.

Really?

What are the symptoms?

Well, the victim
invariably

falls head over heels
in love with you.

Oh.

What an adorable disease.

That's a matter
of opinion.

For the victim,
it's frequently fatal.

That's why I haven't
told your husband

the unpleasant facts
of life yet.

Because you're afraid
if you did,

it might prove...

fatal to your
precious career?

That's part of it.

It is nice that we...

understand each other so well.

Mm-hmm.

So you're declaring war on me?

And I don't take any prisoners.

What a pity.

What are your
views about...

fraternizing
with the enemy?

It could be dangerous.

But exciting.

Well, if it isn't
Asmodeus.

What happened?
Did you lose your way?

You make me realize

how much I detest excessively
muscular young men.

Fair enough.

And I don't care
for bushwhackers,

even if they are all gussied up
in a waiter's suit.

Jim, you out there?

Oh, they told me

I'd find you out here
in the garden.

I beg your pardon.

Am I interrupting something?

Not at all.

A few minutes more,

and I may have
worn out my welcome.

May I present my friend
Mr. Gordon?

The Senator's lady,
Mrs. Waterford.

How do you do?

And the ever delightful
Asmodeus,

magician, illusionist
extraordinary.

Good night,
dear lady.

Excuse us.

Boy, I'll bet
it was quite a shock to find

Mrs. Waterford was
Professor Robey's

little playmate Lilith, huh?

Same spider with
a different name.

Same web with a
different fly.

What I wouldn't give to
know what they're up to.

Artemus, start
with the files.

See what you can dig
up on Mrs. Waterford

and her tricky
pal Asmodeus.

Right. I'll meet you
at the car.

Cab, sir?

Come on.

Let's go.

Extensive multiple
head injuries.

Lacerations,
possible fracture.

What did you say
the patient's name was?

West, Nurse.
Mr. James West.

Well?

He's still
unconscious, sir.

He's been unconscious
for six hours now, but...

Was it you
who always said

that West was indestructible?

Yes, sir.

All it took was
a streetcar

running into
his cab to...

get rid of
that theory.

Return engagement,
Mr. West?

Missed me.

Care to try again?

Very neat.

I'll bet you're a big hit

on the junior circuit
with that one.

But not with you.

But not with me.

Sorry.

Really, I should write
a strongly worded letter

to that Hong Kong
mail order house.

They guaranteed me
I'd be a smash with you.

Oh, well.

Guess I'll have
to rummage around

and see what else
I can come up with.

Don't go away, Mr. West.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

I hope you forgive
the intrusion, Senator. I...

Colonel Fairchild,

I've been trying
to get in touch with you, sir...

We've just received
this message.

"Imperative that
you meet me

"as soon
as possible,

"Senator Waterford
residence.

Signed,
James West."

Oh, you got one, too?

So did the Senator
and Dr. Tristam.

I don't think
you've met.

No. Dr. Tristam, Mr. Gordon.

How do you do?
Mr. Gordon.

In that case, the messages
can't possibly be genuine.

Jim West is still
in the hospital.

You mean, he isn't?

West disappeared
from the hospital an hour ago.

Jim!

Thank you.

Is that you, Artemus?

Yeah.

Fancy meeting you here,
wherever this is.

Good heavens, man,
where have you been?

All sorts
of quaint places.

Well, if it isn't
the great Asmodeus.

It was a highly entertaining
show you put on tonight.

Tonight?

What is he
talking about?

And you,
Mrs. Waterford.

The senator
will be delighted to know

with what grace
and charm you presided

at Witches' Sabbath.

No, Clay, no.

Can't you see he's ill?

And oddly enough...

he seems to be drugged.

That's it, Jim, come on.

We're going
to put you to bed.

I don't want
to go to bed.

It's too early
to go to bed.

Listen to me, West.

Obviously,
you don't remember,

but for past 12 hours,
you've been in the hospital.

Unconscious.

Now you're the one
that's confused.

I've been having
a lot of fun,

but I haven't been...

Now, listen, Jim.

Listen to me.

For the past 12 hours,

I've been sitting
at your bedside

praying that you'd
pull through.

You have been hurt.

Do you understand?

Nah, it can't be.

Would I kid you about something
like that, buddy?

Would I?

Come on, Jim.

Try not to be bitter.

Furloughs can
be beautiful.

Then help yourself
to mine.

Oh, it was beautiful
the way they handled me.

The cab
with the built-in blackout.

Who'd believe it?

I would.

Why?

Because I know you
to be loyal, thrifty,

trustworthy, truthful,
reverent, clean, brave.

And the great show
Asmodeus put on for me

designed to make me look
like the village idiot.

The capper, the little maneuver

that had me hanging
on the ropes.

It was the way
they managed to sneak

another man
into the hospital

and give him
your name.

You really believe
he was a phony? A ringer?

Yeah.

Once I had a chance to
think it all over, yeah.

As a matter of fact,

you better cancel
that furlough, buddy.

I've been doing some
research on this thing

and I've come up with a
theory about the whole thing.

I call it
"Operations Brain Drain."

Now, it's true that Professor
Robey met with foul play,

but so, in the recent past,
have a great many other

equally distinguished
scientists.

For example,
Austin DeJohn,

one of our greatest
theoretical physicists.

Drowned off the coast
of Norfolk.

Go on.

Asmodeus the Great happened
to be playing in a theater

in Norfolk at the time.

Peter Kempley,

leading authority
on organic chemistry,

met with a traffic accident
in Great Neck.

Asmodeus.

By an amusing coincidence,

happened to be playing nearby
at the time.

Here, pick a dossier.

Any dossier.

You'll find that they concern
some leading authority

in one of the physical, medical
or biological sciences,

each one of whom
met with a fatal accident.

And Asmodeus just
happened to be

in the vicinity
in each case.

Asmodeus,
or a little slip

of a delicate blond
named Astarte.

Or Lilith.

What are you doing
sitting here, Artemus?

It's not polite to keep

Colonel Fairchild
waiting.

I'm ready.
I'm ready.

I don't know
how I ever let you two

talk me
into this fantastic scheme.

Sir, if you'll
forgive me,

what's really fantastic
is your notion

that anyone would go
to all the trouble

of systematically
eliminating

one distinguished scientist
after another

without profiting
from it in some way.

Merely depriving our
country of its great geniuses

isn't enough,
we believe.

So, according to you,

all these top-level scientists
are not dead.

They're genius is being
harvested by persons unknown.

That's right, sir.

When we open their graves,
we shall find what?

I don't know.

Perhaps nothing.

Gentlemen, although
I was skeptical

when you first brought
this matter up,

I must admit I found certain
merit in your arguments

that Kempley, DeJohn
and the others

were all buried in
the same cemetery.

But I knew Dr. Kempley
very well.

The remains in this coffin
are definitely his.

Well, gentlemen, shall we
open the other graves?

No, sir.

I'm delighted to
hear you say that.

And, West, I trust
you won't delay

your furlough
any longer.

No, sir.

Are you humming?

Me? Never.

I just whistle
in graveyards.

When was the last time

you attended
a Witches' Sabbath?

Well, any of
you gentlemen

care to make a statement for the press?

This is just the way I saw them,
only Astarte was here.

And Doris Dummy here?

Yeah.

In the land of mannequins,
who does the chanting?

Hey, that's pretty neat, huh?

No Witches' Sabbath
should be without one.

Quite correct.

Drop the guns and raise
your hands, gentlemen.

Oh, the great Asmodeus!

Oh, when's
the next show?

But, my dear skeptical friends,
you are the next show.

The curtain is
about to rise.

How do you like
my little retreat?

We find it very useful

for impressing lovers
of the occult.

You'd be surprised
how many people

are reaching
for the beyond.

Reaching for something
more gaudy.

Well, that's pretty corny, pal.

Yeah, I like
the Indian rope trick.

Do you know how
to do that?

Oh, that's very neat.

Who has a cold?

You are insolent, aren't you?

We'll see how insolent you are
after...

After what?

I prefer to have it be
a surprise.

Is this your whole bag
of tricks?

The dummies...

a burning fire altar,
mumbo jumbo?

Oh, no.

These are little
innocent trappings.

There's more,
as you will find out.

A mourning candle.

Appropriate,
don't you think?

You ordered that for us?

Asmodeus,
you shouldn't have.

Oh, of course.

I realize we need two.

Yeah, but you couldn't fit
the other one

into your sleeve,
could you?

Enough.

You're a poor audience.

Oh, no, we're a good audience.

You're a poor entertainer.

We'll see how poor.

We'll see when...

Oh, no.

You won't force me to tell you.

He will do that.

"He"?

He! He!

And all the time I thought
Asmodeus was Mr. Big.

No, Asmodeus is too
fond of applause.

All right, gentlemen.

Move over to that wall, please.

Gentlemen,
place your hands

in the manacles,
please.

And lock them tightly
around your wrists.

I want
to hear them click.

Jim, behind you!

Glad to have been
of so much help.

Dear me, I shall miss Asmodeus.

Don't move, gentlemen,
if you value your lives.

Well, just don't
stand there, Artemus.

What do you say?

Good evening, Master.

Well, for law enforcement
officers,

you gentlemen
have a certain native,

rather refreshing intelligence.

Won't you join me?

But be very, very careful.

Gentlemen,
my laboratory.

A modest little retreat
where I come to putter.

And develop charming
little devices,

like the chemical that causes
people to burst into flames.

Oh, one of my minor efforts.

Actually, it's a refinement
of the ancient Greek fire.

Applied to clothing,

the chemical can be set
to go off at a precise moment.

Yes.

I already know
the amusing way

that it worked
on Professor Robey.

Don't be a fool, Mr. Gordon.

Stop, I say.

Your impetuous friend
is unconscious, not dead.

That will come
later, of course.

For you, also.

Before you, um, nullify me,

what is it exactly
that you're up to?

Well, can't you guess?

I know you have an unusual
interest in our scientists,

the exceptional ones.

Go on.

I even toyed with the theory

that you're in the business
of faking their deaths,

that they're alive,
forced to work for you.

What if I were to tell you
you're absolutely correct?

I saw Kempley's remains
in his grave.

Just the dross, Mr. West,
the unimportant husk.

Allow me.

Uh, may I present, um... uh...

Oh, yes, yes.

Professor Kempley,

DeJohn, Dr. Lassiter,

Professors Colahan,
Byron,

Cook, Fogelson, Carson,

and Lind.

The essence of these

"exceptional ones,"
as you put it,

their brains.

I have the collective genius

of the greatest scientists
of the day at my command.

And there'll be more,
many more.

Interesting.

But brains without bodies?

Yes.

Living on the electrically
charged aqueous environment

into which I have placed them.

Living, hearing, feeling-

and most importantly- thinking.

Cerebrating at my command.

What do you say to that?

Not being a fool,
I don't believe you, of course.

You don't?

Professor Colahan,

I want those nuclear equations
I asked you to formulate now.

They must be prodded first
before I get what I want.

You mean you shock them?

That's how you control them.

Yes.

And this is my achievement.

My accumulator.

Like a battery
drinking in

the enormous
electric output

of all those brains.

Storing it, keeping it on tap

until such time
as I may need it,

as I want to put it to work.

And that's where
Astarte comes in,

picking up scientists
from time to time.

Oh, yes, she's been most useful.

But not always completely
successful, of course.

Your Professor Robey-

oh, he was one
who became suspicious.

Why did Astarte
marry Senator Waterford?

He's not a scientist.

Ah, no, but he's
a very social animal.

Oh, we made some splendid
contacts through him.

Oh, yes, he had his uses.

Had?

Astarte has
tired of him.

She gets restless, you know?

So at 12:00 tonight,

the senator will meet
with an unfortunate accident.

More fire?

Oh, Astarte's idea.

She coaxed the senator
into wearing a cape

to the Waterford
costume party they're having

and... oh, dear.

In a half hour,
it'll be 12:00.

You're not getting
any heroic ideas, I trust.

No, no heroics.

I was just thinking how much
that they must hate you.

They?

Well, they're alive.

They think.

They must know
what you've done to them,

how you plan
to use them.

How could they
not hate you?

You're a hopeless
sentimentalist.

What if they were to make
one collective effort,

one big surge of power?

How much damage do
you think they could do?

Why the idea
is too childish to...

Listen.

You're an idiot.

What you hear
are the normal fluctuations

of current absorption.

Is that it,
or is it possible

they realize for
the first time

they can strike back
at the one they hate

with all their
towering genius?

Desist!

Then it is possible,
isn't it?

No, it's not.

Then there'd be no harm
if someone was to say-

"Strike back, but you
must do it together,

one united effort."

I said desist!

One united, collective effort

with all your power and be free.

I'll kill you right now!

Artemus, I have to get
to Senator Waterford's fast.

You'll be all right here.

Senator Waterford?

Will I do?

Such a gay, lovely
night, Mr. West.

Don't you think we
might declare a truce?

That's an interesting
idea, Mrs. Waterford.

To begin, try saying
Astarte, James.

Astarte.

Oh, you did that
very well.

Just a knack, I suppose.

Do you remember the last time
we were so close?

Yes.

But don't worry.

Asmodeus isn't around
this time.

I know.

He's dead.

And I almost forgot-

so is Dr. Tristam.

You're lying.

Would I lie about such
a delightful thing as that?

Please, James, listen to me.

Forget it, little girl.

You are all washed up.

Please.

Leave me alone!

Clay...

Oh, Clay.

West, you'll die for this.

I don't suppose
I could convince...

No, I didn't think I could.

Before you fire,
get out of that cape.

What?

There isn't time
to explain,

but in a few seconds,

that cape will burst
into flame,

thanks to your
loving wife.

Liar!

Oh, he's mad.

Then indulge a madman.

Get out of that cape fast.

Do you feel the heat
from the cape, Astarte?

Just like the one
you sent Professor Robey.

Let me out of this thing
before it's too late.

Shoot him now, Clay.

Shoot him now.

I promised you a dance, Astarte.

Dance?

What?

The minuet.

From the highest gallows
we can find, remember?

Merely a demonstration

to prove that the hand
is quicker than the eye.

We will catch the...

We will, no.

We will cat...

That's fine.

Now the... card...

There is
the inveterate card player

whom you have met.

What are you doing?

Practicing your

old black magic,
Artemus?

Ah, merely something
to while away

those long, cold,
wintry evenings, James.

You...

Oh, listen. Watch this.

I just want
to show you something.

Artemus, I happen to have
an engagement.

No, no, no, no.

I guarantee you will find
this richly rewarding.

Observe.
Empty, correct?

Please watch carefully.

We will close
the cabinet,

say a few brief
magic words over it,

and presto.

Abracadabra,
alakazam,

ipso facto, the king of Siam.

Here we go.

I can't understand it.

According to the manual,
it's supposed to be a rabbit.