All language subtitles for The Wild Wild West - 03x04 - The Night Dr. Loveless Died.Unspecified.English.updated.Addic7ed.com

Is Sheriff Quail
around here?

That's me.
Y-You West and Gordon?

Mm-hm.

Right down that there
aisle there.

Know him?

We've been known to meet
from time to time.

Dr. Miguelito
Quixote Loveless, R.I.P.

Well, him and-
And three other fellas

busted the stockman's bank.

The other varmints got away,

but this one I perforated.

Uh, considering
the size of the target,

that was pretty fancy
perforation.

No breath at all.

He's dead all right,
young feller.

He's as dead as a sliced,
barbecued catfish.

Oh! Oh, no!

That is what I call a miraculous
recovery from grief, Artie.

Imagine that little key
she just snitched

might have something to do
with the peace of mind?

Shut up, you two.

And if anyone
is stupid enough

to make any sudden move,
I'll-

His bottle probably
wasn't even loaded.

Where you're going,
sugar,

you're not gonna
be using that key.

Why don't you just
give it to papa?

Thank you.

Deuce!

Triste, why don't you
inform these gentlemen

I can solve
all the arguments,

and I'll take the key.

It's true, boys.

Some hero saved us
the trouble

of liquidating
the little man.

Uh, the key, mister.

And, uh,
the lady's special.

It's empty.
I know-

Aargh!

All right, gentlemen,
let's go!

Where did the girl go?

She went
out the front door.

What about the sheriff?
Let's get him.

Morning.

Triste and Deuce.

I beg your pardon?

Hm? Oh, morning, Jim.
I'm sorry.

I was just trying to add up
a couple things from last night.

Look, here we have a key

taken from the wrist
of Dr. Loveless, deceased.

Anything on that key
from the data bureau?

Not a syllable yet.
Now, please, pay attention.

As I was saying, here's a key
with a built-in puzzle.

What attraction does
this have for sweet Triste

and smiling, loveable Deuce?

Your guess
is as good as mine.

What was that key
you palmed off on Deuce?

The one from the men's room
of the Sacramento hotel

we were at last month.

Hey, Arabella!
There you are, dear.

Did you have
a nice flight, huh?

Everything go well?

Ah, it must be word
from the bureau

you were asking for.

There you are.

Everything well
with you, girl?

Don't talk to hawks,
huh?

Here it is, Artie.

The serial number
of the key checks out

to the safety-deposit box

located at the Pioneer Bank
in Mendoza

taken out under the name
Gideon Blodgett.

James, my boy,
haven't you always felt

that the thing we needed
to round out our travels

is a trip to Mendoza?

Howdy.

How do you do?

Thank you.
Thank you.

I never saw such
a hoop-dee-doo

about that poor Mr. Blodgett's
safety-deposit box.

You wouldn't believe
how firm I've had to be

with two people
who insisted

on being allowed
access to it.

One of them a very
attractive young lady?

Yes, that's right.

And the other one
a not-so-attractive,

powerful man
who smiled a lot?

The key didn't fit
the lock, right?

How did you know?

Oh,
it's just a wild guess.

Oh, that'll be fine,
Mr. Wells.

We'll manage from here.

Well, sing out when
you're ready, gentlemen.

I'll, uh,
commute your sentence.

Here it is, Artie.

Hit the ground!

"Open."

"229." You want to go
through that-?

No. No thanks, Artie.
You can have the honor.

A typical Loveless prank.

"No more loud noises,
Mr. West.

"Just the name
of a gentleman

Mr. Arthur Tickle."

You know, what gets me
is he's dead,

and we're still jumping.

How did he know that
we weren't gonna be

blown up by that
first explosion?

He couldn't possibly.

That's just Loveless'
still warped sense of humor.

Good heavens,
what happened?

We might all
have been killed!

Excuse me, Mr. Wells.

Do you know a man
named Arthur Tickle?

What? Tickle?
Never heard of him.

About the explosion, though
- Excuse us.

I beg your pardon.
Let us through.

Listen, while you're tracking
down this Tickle fellow,

why don't I get back
to the car

and make preparations
for my date with Triste?

I didn't know
you had one.

I'm not sure I do,
but I have a hunch

if I get back there,
I will.

See you.
See you later.

Excuse me, uh, I couldn't
help overhearing.

Are you looking
for Arthur Tickle?

Yes. Do you know
where I can find him?

It's beginning
to get dark.

And I just so happen to be
going past his house.

I'll be glad
to show you the way.

Thank you.

Ooh! That smarts!

Welcome to my humble abode,
dear Triste.

I adore promptness
in a lady.

Won't you join me?

Oh, my. For me?

And another little gift.

Triste, Triste, you're
always thinking of me.

It's one of
your nicer traits.

But then, I've been
thinking of you too.

You were expecting me?

Naturally.

Isn't it obvious?

Where else would you
expect to find a bottle

of properly chilled
Chateau Maranie?

Or a stroganoff done to
so exquisite a brandy turn?

Or such
fascinating conversation

about a key to a certain
safe-deposit box?

Won't you join me?

You'll never see it
from the road

in a million years.

The Tickle house
is just beyond

that stand of cottonwoods.

Well,
thank you very much.

Giddyap!

Hello?

Anybody home?

Hello.

What's your pleasure?
What's your pleasure?

What's your pleasure?
What's your pleasure?

Congratulations!

Congratulations!
You outlasted me, West.

I only wish it had been
the other way around. Awk!

The other way- Awk!

The other way around.

Once or twice, you must admit,

it looked like it might
actually work out that way.

In life, Mr. West,
I bent every effort

to be your- Awk!
-executioner.

In death, I ask you
to be my executor- Awk!

of my estate.

Only in this way,

can I feel assured

that the interests
of my next of kin

will be adequately protected.

My lawyer
will fill in the details,

but in return
for the small favor I ask,

I offer you something your
department may find useful.

Counselor Tickle,
I presume.

Yes.
Uh, would you, uh...?

If you don't mind.

I'll be frank, Mr. West.

As Dr. Loveless' attorney,

I had to go along
with a great many, uh,

exotic maneuvers that
I didn't quite approve of.

That was the story
of my association too.

The business about
getting you here

without revealing my identity,

getting the bird to, uh,

memorize the doctor's
own reading of his will,

all that was highly
irregular, of course,

but now that that's all over,

do you accept
my client's proposition?

Before I answer that,

what's at the other end
of this combination?

The files. Heh.

When I asked about that,
Dr. Loveless just laughed.

He said had no doubt you'd
manage to find out where it was.

That sounds
like the Loveless I knew.

Loveless' kin that he was
so concerned about,

was that man, woman, or child?

Please, Herr West.

I've been told
that the family resemblance

is truly remarkable,

but my nephew,
Miguelito, is dead.

Of course.

This is the late Dr. Loveless'
next of kin and sole heir.

Dr. Werner Otto Liebknicht,
of the University of Zurich.

Mr. James West of the
United States Secret Service.

Dr. Liebknicht is the celebrated
Swiss neurologist,

as you undoubtedly know.

He and the late Dr. Loveless
had completed plans

to join in the operation
of a new sanitorium

when, uh, the unfortunate
accident occurred.

Please.

Please,
I'm sure Herr West

is not interested in that
at all.

In fact, what I think he
should be interested in

is the sacred plan
that I have in mind.

And that is?

You know, you don't look like
a wicked person, Herr West.

Well, thank you, doctor.

The fact remains that
it has been demonstrated to me

that you are a wicked person,

and for that you must die.

What is it about me
that's so wicked?

Do you think
I do not know?

Do you think my nephew,
Miguelito, has not told me

how you have
continually hounded him?

You persecuted him.

You allowed him
not a moment's peace. You-

Hit the ground!

What is it?
Who's shooting?

Deuce and his merry men.

Deuce? Who's that?
What does he want?

James West!

I'm gonna give you
just one minute

to come out with that key!

Otherwise
I'll really open up!

Deuce is a former associate
of your late nephew.

I think he wants a key.

To be precise,
he wants the combination

to the lock
that holds the files.

Give it to him!

No. For two reasons.

One is,
according to that will,

it's property of the
United States government.

Reason number two?

Reason number two is
I'm sure he wants our blood.

Ohh, Triste,
Triste, Triste.

I've served you
a superb stroganoff,

I've plied you
with vintage champagne,

provided you with soft,
romantic candlelight,

and still you persist
in refusing

to open your girlish
heart to me.

Oh, there's so much
about you I want to know.

You know all the answers,
hawkshaw.

You and your partner found
the safety-deposit boxes,

didn't you?

Yes, but there's
so much more about you

I want to know than that.

For instance,
who you're working for,

or how your friend, Deuce,
fits into the picture,

or what miraculous
pot of gold there is

at the end of the rainbow
that all of you

are so willing to kill
so many people for?

Don't hang by your thumbs
waiting for me to tell you.

You're very beautiful.

So they tell me.

I'm...

...just sitting here
wondering,

a little sadly, actually,

how long that beauty
will last

once you're behind bars.

You're also being terribly
obvious, aren't you?

I don't think so.

I just think you don't know.

Have you ever worked
in a jute mill, Triste?

Because that's
what you'll be doing

once you're in prison.

There's something
about daily contact

with jute fibers that turns

even a peaches-and-cream
complexion like yours,

over the long years,
into what looks like

mottled,
badly tanned leather.

Maybe after
those long centuries pass,

you really
won't mind too much

because you
will have been deprived

of the company
of anyone male.

Nothing but embittered,
hateful females,

all of them drying out
like yourself,

waiting for death.

And by then,
you'll be a gargoyle,

something distorted

that in no way resembles

the beautiful, young girl
you are now.

Look, I, uh...

can tell you something
you should know.

If you'll promise-

No promises, no deals.

You just talk.

After that, I'll see
what kind of a break

I can get you.

All right.

There's a man named Tickle,

and Deuce would give anything
to find him.

He's probably tailing
your partner right now,

figuring that-
That he'll find Tickle.

Do you know where I can
find this Tickle character?

Well, I could
take you to him.

But just remember
that you promised

to give me a break.

All right. Come on.

Hey, heroes!

You, with that overworked
artillery in there!

What's on your mind,
Deuce?

I'm gonna give you
a last chance.

Come on out,
throw down your guns,

and we'll talk it over.

You hear that?
I think the man's sincere.

I vote we do as he says.

Do you?
What do you vote, doctor?

I shall cast my lot
with you, Herr West.

Deuce!

Oh, we're on fire!

It is gas.

One of the chloride group,
I believe.

Phosgene.

That's poison gas.

That horse and buggy of yours.
Where is it?

In the barn.

I think it's time
for a buggy ride.

I can't stand it!
I'm giving myself up!

Come back here!
Don't!

Don't shoot!

I accept your-

We gotta find
another way out of here.

Are you game, doctor?

Mr. West, I know I'm not
so tall as you,

but if you question
my courage because of-

It never entered my mind.

Executioner, Mr. West...

I'd better get
your late nephew's

last will and testament
out in the fresh air.

...of my estate.

If you've ever held on before,
doctor, hold on now!

Wunderbar!
Masterful maneuver, Herr West.

Oh, not really.
As one fox to another,

that just bought us
a few extra moments.

The hounds will soon
be back on our trail.

That sanitorium you and
Dr. Loveless organized,

where is it?

Banner Point
on the coast. Why?

Banner Point?
That's a good eight miles.

That's as good
as any place

to start looking
for those files.

I take it, in life,

that was Mr. Tickle.

Well, things are certainly
nice and quiet in here.

Let's take a look out-

Sea gulls.

Now, what would
a lone myna bird

be out talking to itself
on a night like this for?

Do you have
any idea, Triste?

Hyah, hyah!

You all right,
Mr. Gordon?

I never felt better
in my life. Thank you.

Boys pick up
the lady's trail?

Yes, sir.
Good.

Everything's going
according to your plan.

Fine.

You know, Layden,

just as an educated guess,

I'd say this bird lived
somewhere near the seashore,

kept some
very strange company.

In any case, it will be
interesting to see

where the fox leads us, huh?

Come on, Layden.

Dr. Liebknicht's Sanitorium

for the Treatment
of Nervous Diseases.

Nothing like having a castle
with a view of the sea.

The important thing is
we have finally arrived.

There must be
some stairs around here.

Stairs? My dear Herr West,

Miguelito would have
laughed at such things.

Long before he even built
this sanitorium, he planned-

You have displayed remarkable
ingenuity, Herr West,

but now, as it must
to all men-

Hold this.

What is it?

An explosive. Hold this.

Don't put them together
until I tell you to.

Now!

They're blocked off now.

So much for Deuce
and his men.

We're ascending,
I take it.

See for yourself.

May I offer you a drink?

Another one
of Dr. Loveless' toys.

Somehow, you make that sound
contemptible, Herr West.

I don't mean to.

Your nephew
was quite remarkable.

I guess it was just he was
too far ahead of his time.

Is that why you have spent
your young life

persecuting him?

Doctor, your nephew and I-

Herr West, please.

We should let the dead
rest in peace.

Dr. Loveless' office.

His playthings,
the world.

Who else would have been
so obsessed with toying with it,

shaking it
from time to time,

to make a different,
more improved world?

You have a point
to make, Herr West?

Yes, doctor.

I made an agreement
with your late nephew

to guarantee your safety.

I think you have
done this admirably.

And he, in turn,
said that my department

would inherit his files.

I'm here for those files,
doctor.

Since this seems to have
been Miguelito's wish...

Have you considered
the possibility

that this combination
you inherited could be a fraud?

Not a chance, doctor.

Or that the contents,
once you open it,

could be just, uh,
blank newspapers,

uh, blank paper?

I knew Loveless

and his "dark of the moon"
kind of code.

He was a strangely
honorable man.

This is the combination
that will open the safe.

And the contents.
Will they be worth

all the trouble
you've been put through?

No wonder Deuce
wanted these files so badly.

Loveless figured out
a foolproof assault

on the United States mint.

Are you not afraid
that I might

take this opportunity
to kill you, Herr West?

No, doctor, I don't think
you could kill anything.

What about Dr. Loveless,
Mr. West?

You know, Loveless,
it's always a mistake

jumping to the conclusion
that you're dead.

But I can be pardoned
for being fooled

after the test
Artie ran on your corpse.

He did not take into
consideration the art of yoga.

The seventh stage, turiya.

An experienced practitioner,
such as myself,

can enter the stage
of samadhi,

where breathing, even
heartbeats, can be suspended.

But why, doctor?

Why all the hanky-panky
with that pathetic sheriff,

having him pretend
you were dead?

Oh, Mr. West,
what does a little man,

born into a world of giants,

do when one of the giants
sets out to kill him?

He pits a giant like me

against the other giant
to dispose of him.

Precisely.

Deuce was
becoming troublesome.

He had to be eliminated,
and you obliged.

Is something the matter,
Mr. West?

Could it possibly be that jet
of anesthetic that's been

playing over you ever since
you opened the safe?

Loveless-

Gentlemen.

Dr. Langely, Dr. Crow.

Take the gentlemen
down the corridor.

Follow me, gentlemen.

Package.

Your name, doctor?

That's perfectly
all right, young man.

I just gave it to the
gentleman at the door.

Well then,
you give it to me too.

Uh, give it to you too?
Yes.

I wish I could.

Would you believe that
I was Dr. Lippenstott?

Oh-ho, I think
if you told me that,

you'd have a lot
of explaining to do.

I suppose you're going
to tell me

you're Dr. Ramone De LaPeletier
from the Sorbonne.

He seems to be the only one
still missing.

I have discovered,

in the midst of some
very serious research,

I happen to be he.

Just to be
on the safe side,

I think I'll check
my lists over here.

Yes, of course.

Just a moment.

Yes?

Say that again.
Would you mind?

I said, "just to be
on the safe side, I think-"

Safe side?

"Safe side, I think-"

That alters it...

How long have you had
ambivalenatis perditis?

Ambivi-? Am-?

Oh. There I go.

No, I should really stick
to my research,

and not mix in things
that concern only you

and your own self.

No, no, please. You-

You go ahead and check
your list, won't you?

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Doctor, this, uh,
ambivalinicus- Am-

Ambivalenatis perditis.
Yes.

Yes, uh...

Is-?
Is that, uh, serious?

Of course, none of us
can live forever, young man.

If your current treatment

is making you feel
more comfortable,

that's as much
as one can ask.

Uh...I'm-

Doctor, I'm not taking
any treatment.

You're not?

Great Scott, man, don't move!

How could you let
this much time go by?

That's incredible.

Here, tell me something.

Sit right where you are.

Do you find when you
get up in the morning

that you're feeling a little bit
tired and still sleepy?

Yes, sir. I-
When you have a heavy meal,

do you find your stomach
feels distended

and a little uncomfortable,
eh?

Yes, sir.
That's what I figured.

Don't try to talk.
Here. Just one moment.

There we go.

Ridiculous for you
to have waited this long.

Open your mouth.
There we are.

Give me your pulse.

Make certain
everything is fine here.

No young man should be
permitted to go through life

carrying that much
in the way of difficulty.

Well...

Oh, you always work.

Dr. Ramone De LaPeletier.

Hoist the mainsail!
Face the jib!

We'll have a quiet night
and a calm sea.

Delighted to see you
up again, Mr. West.

Thank you.
What's the program, doctor?

Gentlemen,
distinguished colleagues,

I'm honored that you
have seen fit

to accept my invitation
to this surgical demonstration.

You begin
to understand now, West?

As you know from the clinical
notes I have distributed,

the patient is young,
in excellent physical condition,

but with a history of
violence and irrationality

extending over many years.

The patient's hallucinations
are a case in point,

as we shall see.

What is your name,
young man,

and your occupation?

Patient is in his
uncommunicative phase,

but I can assure you he would
have said something such as,

oh, uh, "agent of the United
States Secret Service,"

or some such.

Heh. At any rate,

the operation you will see

is a simple destruction
of the frontal nerves.

This effectively transforms
the patient's personality.

Non!

Doctor, if you please.

Allow me.

Monsieur le doctor
Ramone De LaPeletier,

of the Sorbonne,

and let me be the first

to assure you,
monsieur le doctor,

that I stand second to none
among my colleagues

in my grand admiration

for your contribution
to le science m�dical.

Thank you, doctor, but-

But I cannot remain silent!

If this operation is
to have any meaning for us,

it is important that
it not only be brilliant,

but that we have all the data.

For example,

the blood pressure
of the patient, the retin-

Here, permit me,
if you would, please.

Follow that, ah?

The retinal status
is perfect.

The respiration, uh,

is normal.

And he spleen...
perfectly in place.

The pulse-
Get him out of here!

No! No! No!

That door isn't gonna
hold much longer, Jim.

Gently.

Go!

That should muck it.

Artie, let's create
a little diversion.

Release the inmates.

Good idea.

Here.

It's cute, huh?

All that noise and fury

and not one, single,
blessed inmate.

Come on, Artie, I'll show you
something else that's cute.

Artie,
Loveless has some files

I think you'll be
interested in seeing.

Keep an eye on him.

A pleasure.

Do you two have any idea

of the trouble
you've put me to?

Just getting all these panicky
doctors out to safety

is taxing my facilities
to the utmost.

Delighted to learn
that your colleagues

are so well taken care of,
doctor.

Everything has become
so messy,

disordered, chaotic,
thanks to you two.

I helped you
with Deuce and his boys.

Yes, you did, didn't you?

You know, I would have performed
a brilliant operation on you,

had not
Mr. Gordon interfered.

You know that,
don't you?

Of course.

Come on, Loveless,
get on your feet.

It's time to go.

Just like that, huh?
Off to jail.

Adieu, dear Triste.

I'm sorry to leave you
so abruptly,

but I shall return
for you later.

This whole place is rigged
for spontaneous combustion.

Let's get to the elevator!

If you want to keep

that peaches-and-cream
complexion,

you better open
that elevator.

What are you crying for?

Miguelito.
He's in there.

Is he?
You want to bet on that?

At which point,
this deputy sheriff gets up

and dusts himself off
and says,

"Just for that,
you're all under arrest!"

Well!

Here you are, James.

"James West
and Artemus Gordon."

I guess
somebody sent us a gift.

Yeah, no return address.
Probably a bomb.

Ladies...

Hm.

Uh, no name of a sender?