Original subtitles

San Francisco gets worse every day.

We're late.

Did it ever occur to you that that was the big idea?

Right.

Prince Shinosuke regrettably is put

to the unpleasant duty of reminding you,

as state department representative,

over 30 years ago, your Admiral Perry borrowed,

without consent,

the sword of celestial worth from our people.

Now, after bitter years of delay,

you place it within our grasp,

and then, sadly,

permit it to be stolen again.

Please do inform his royal highness-

Prince Shinosuke reminds this wifeless one

that his vessel sails with tomorrow's tide.

And if his august majesty

should return to Japanese soil

with the bitter taste of failure in his mouth,

and without the venerated Sword of Kunioshi

to lay at the feet of the emperor...

Each honor-bound to commit seppuku.

Hara-kiri.

West, Gordon, listen to me.

That'll be all, Reiko.

Ne ti noakari.

I don't suppose that means anything to you, does it?

Bidding of the polite farewell.

Yes. Yes, that's roughly the meaning of the phrase.

It also happens to be the name of a fanatical,

highly-placed palace group,

one of the number which is forever jockeying

for power in Japan.

The kind of, uh, polite farewell

they have in mind

is the complete elimination of every shred of influence

America has managed to acquire in Japan.

Then I take it the return of the sword

is more than an act of reparation on our part.

Most certainly.

It was also designed to strengthen the hand

of a good, progressive emperor who wishes us well.

Gentlemen, the prince's ship sails with tomorrow's tide.

I most earnestly hope that you have seen to it

that he also has the Sword of Kunioshi by then.

Could Reiko help, perhaps?

Oh, Reiko didn't leave

when she was dismissed by Mr. Finsbury, did she?

Reiko most earnestly desire to be of assistance.

Please forgive.

All right, if you'd like to be helpful,

just give us the name of the character

who stole the sword.

I do not know, Mr. Gordon.

He must- Must have been a ta tsu gen.

Ta tsu gen?

Master of the samurai sword?

It is my belief he must have been.

Of course.

There can't be too many men

that could master the Hokkaido grip.

Please, Mr. Gordon, could Reiko help?

Reiko, my charming little lotus blossom

adrift on moon-drenched waters,

I have a feeling you already have.

It's set.

Oh!

Oh, se�or.

Se�or, I am desolate.

Please, do me the honor to forgive me

for my clumsiness that I bump into you.

Of course. And, uh...

The devil himself has entered into a pact with my cigar

to keep it unlighted.

Do you-? Aha!

Where are you on your way to, Artie?

Up and down the lengths of the Barbary Coast.

See if I can attract some lightning.

Se�or, I am forever in your debt.

My pleasure.

No, no.

By all the scars of Satan, no, no, no!

Now, look!

There are 16 cuts permissible to the true samurai.

And in some extraordinary fashion,

you are managing to dishonor every one of them.

Your sword isn't your enemy.

It's your loved one.

You caress it.

Like so!

It's good to see you, Jim.

But you haven't been practicing.

Your balance is off by a good inch.

I know, and I'm properly ashamed.

How's the vintage?

Well, they're not bad at all.

Of course, there isn't one of them

you couldn't take blindfolded.

I have the feeling you're not here

for a refresher course, Jim.

You're right.

You know this grip?

The Hokkaido grip.

Somebody tried to use the seventh cut on me.

Would you know of anyone that uses it?

Oh, I do indeed.

For the past year,

I've been teaching it to all my students.

Should I take over now, master?

Oh, yes, Haki.

Have them work up a sweat with parries and lunges.

Who's the instructor?

Oh, Haki Sergevitch. A Eurasian, I believe.

He arrived in town only a week ago.

He's a marvelous teacher.

I should have introduced you to him.

Like to meet him.

Your dagger?

"Was" would be more accurate.

I wouldn't dream of taking it back

from the gentleman.

That must be embarrassing,

having a dead body on your doorstep.

Dead body?

What dead body?

I must say, you keep a very tidy charnel house.

Extraordinary.

I suddenly realize that you are repelled by death.

Almost as much as you're fascinated by it.

Indeed I am.

By its glory and majesty, sir.

By its healing power that eventually cures

the most stubborn of ailments.

By its unhurried wisdom that solves all problems in time.

Why, with its help, I shall even accomplish

the greatest miracle of all-

Reduce this mountain of flesh.

Won't you honor my humble parlor

with your presence, Mr. West?

Flattered you know my name.

And why should I not?

In many quarters,

you are not without a certain measure of fame.

I, on the other hand, am- Oh!

-merely Hannibal Egloft, general manager

of the Aryan Pacific Trading Company.

Rather a tacky pair of beasties, aren't they?

Well, certainly not up to the standard

of your, um, other treasures.

But the little darlings serve a most useful purpose.

They've been designed to launch into their dreary

chirping and warbling

only at the approach of visitors.

I find their warning most-

For some reason,

I get the impression that you were expecting me.

Mr. West, there are some men in the world

who are like crossroads, like me.

Everyone comes to fat old Hannibal

sooner or later.

And what is it that fat old Hannibal wants?

To serve, Mr. West.

Simply that.

There is a certain article of great value

you're looking for.

I can put you in touch with it.

For a fee, I suppose.

A pittance. $25,000.

And after I deliver this,

uh, pittance to you?

Then I fulfill my share of the bargain

by putting you in touch with...

the Dutchman.

So it's the Dutchman

that I'll have to do business with.

Who else would dare to pit himself

against the formidable might of the United States Government,

and the even more formidable might

of the Barbary Coast underworld?

How much will the Dutchman want?

I wouldn't dream of presuming to speak for him

on matters of money.

But we may confidently assume

that his price will be...

substantial.

When and where?

Festina lente, as the Latins say, Mr. West.

"Make haste slowly."

Thank you.

As you may know, the Dutchman is one of the faceless ones.

One does not meet him as one meets the Queen of England

or the Emperor of China.

A trusted middleman negotiates a brief interview,

and one is rather circuitously conveyed into his presence.

Say, at 2:00 this morning at the old ship chandlery

on Sausalito Beach?

I'll be there.

A small reminder, my friend:

before the meeting with the Dutchman,

I will expect a messenger from you with my fee.

How does the Dutchman know I won't set a trap?

Mr. West, you are undoubtedly brave and resourceful,

but you do not strike me

as a man who has lost all desire to live.

Nina Candida!

I'm not Nina Candida, whoever she is.

Ah, the years have blessed you.

Nina, you're more beautiful than ever.

Sanctify me with a kiss.

Listen, you.

My name is Madame Moustache.

Now, either drink up or ship out.

Please do give me a bottle of your best

and two glasses.

One glass.

I don't drink with customers.

Oh, Nina, I am desolated by that,

but the other glass is for my friend here.

Your friend doesn't talk much.

My friend is a doer.

He's not a talker.

Nina, should I tell you something

about my friend here?

My friend here is gonna make me rich.

I tell you, I have-

You. Do you know what I have in here? Huh?

Would you want me to tell you?

Don't bother.

You've been up and down the stem half the night

trying to peddle that pick's digger.

You mean you know about the Sword of Kunioshi?

I think he wants you to hand over your package

before his knife accidentally slips.

Anyone else?

Your friend won't be needing his drink anymore.

True, Nina Candida.

Let us share it then

as we have shared

so many golden memories.

There is a real Sword of Kunioshi, of course?

Of course.

And I am told that if one had such an article

and was looking for a buyer,

there would be no better place to find one

than in this restful, blessed,

glorious place of yours.

The gentleman would like to go, um, sightseeing.

Thank you very much, Nina.

Till that magnificent moment

when once again I will be gazing into the eyes...

of Nina Candida.

Oh! Mmm!

Beautiful!

Reiko...

What are you doing following this worthless one?

Come on.

Why are you crying?

Because you and Mr. Gordon have been so good to me.

And now because some of my countrymen

have taken the divine Blade of Kunioshi

away from you,

you're forced into the dangerous task

of trying to recover it.

You mean you've been following me

to see that nothing happens to me?

I'm touched, Reiko.

Please take this, Mr. West.

It is a small blade,

but in Japan we call it tamaduci nusepu.

"Kiss of a friend."

Now, Reiko, if you really wanna help me,

you won't follow me anymore.

Oh, please do let Reiko stay.

Absolutely not.

You've got to go.

Reiko, it looks like you're to stay after all.

I told the fat one that you were to come here alone.

Didn't he tell you?

As a matter of fact,

the fat one did say something about coming alone, but my-

My friend here dropped in unexpectedly.

But she's ready to leave now.

No.

Now that she's here, she will stay.

She serves my purposes very well.

Well, not that it makes any difference,

but just exactly what is it that you have in mind?

My price is, for the return of the sword,

$1 million in negotiable United States securities.

The fat man said that your price

would be substantial.

Naturally, you will want to be assured

that the sword is genuine.

That is where your friend comes in.

I am told that a blade that is keen enough

and is wielded by a sure hand

can perform a decapitation so deft

that the victim herself is not immediately aware

of what has happened.

Like so.

Don't waste your time talking to a chair.

I'm in here.

Hey, wait a minute.

Up one alley, down another.

In, out, over buildings.

What are you trying to do, make a fool out of me?

We- We are here.

Here? Where's here?

You're in the middle of an alley,

a filthy alley, that's all!

Now, listen, you little-

I prefer not to have any witness around

for our little transaction.

I thought we already had one.

We're gonna have another?

I think, perhaps, yes.

I'm assured by someone whose judgment I trust

that you very likely have a certain sword I want.

I, in turn, have money to pay for it.

Will you double the privacy of my rickshaw?

Please, of what extraction are you,

if one may ask?

Why, I am Portuguese, of course.

Ah, so. Like ours, a great seafaring nation.

Oh, the greatest,

if you will forgive me for saying so.

Throughout history,

we have been experts on the sea,

beautiful women...

and the value of a dollar.

Ah, you see.

So now we are negotiating.

I have been told that you have in your possession

the Sword of Kunioshi.

I'm listening.

You will bring it to me at this same spot,

7:00 tomorrow morning?

I'm still listening.

At that time, I will pay you 25,000 gold dollars.

I-I-I'm sorry,

I-I couldn't hear you-

Even though I was listening, you understand.

because the sword,

which I do not even admit to have,

is certainly worth a great deal more than that.

Very true.

But you see, I only want to borrow the sword

for the space of 15 minutes.

Only 15 minutes?

After that it will be yours to sell again

for whatever the market will bring.

It is to be used

in an ancient samurai purification ritual,

which would hold no meaning for you.

Is it agreed?

A word of caution.

Bring me the true sword, and I will pay you.

Bring me an imitation,

and I will use it to cut off your head.

Dutchman, are you still here?

Here, and waiting for your return.

You are a violent man, Mr. West.

I am afraid I'm going to have to return your violence.

An eye for an eye, as the book says.

Not your eye, of course.

I still have to do business with you.

But the girl's.

Ah, that prospect offends

your delicate sensibilities, doesn't it?

Well, if that's the way if has to be, all right.

But, uh, one last favor before you harm the girl.

What favor do you want?

May I have one last kiss?

How charmingly sentimental.

Let Mr. West have the last kiss

he or anyone else will ever want from the girl.

The kiss of a friend.

Enough!

My stomach is sufficiently turned.

Don't move, Dutchman.

Move back.

Do as Mr. West says.

I believe this is what is called

a Mexican standoff, is it not?

Is it?

I've got this gun pointing at you.

True, but my men now have their guns on you,

and on the charming girl.

You're right. It's a Mexican standoff.

I have given you your own way

in this matter, Mr. West.

Now listen to me.

$1 million in gilt-edged securities.

You will bring them to me at the Portuguese wharf

in two hours exactly.

And you had better come alone.

Well...

So much for the $1 million.

And so much for the trail.

Artie, it wouldn't hurt your feelings

if I asked you to run a test on that, would it?

Oh, not at all. It's a good idea.

Check.

One triple play coming up.

I pass the securities onto the Dutchman.

Who happily turns over the sword to us.

Then you take it to Saigo

and find out why he wants that sword for 15 minutes.

Good idea.

You know something?

That ought to be standard equipment

in every railroad car in America.

West, did you bring what the Dutchman told you?

Yeah.

You have what I want?

Hand over the bag.

You hand over the sword first.

Thank you, Mr. West,

for your most splendid cooperation.

I hope my men will try

to make you feel welcome in return.

Bring me the suitcase.

Jim!

Overhead!

It's in there.

Let's check this first, Artie.

Oh.

Phony.

How do you like that? Phony!

Artie, so were our bonds.

Oh.

You can't trust anybody these days.

I think I know where this leads to.

Lead on.

Gentlemen, you have wounded me to the heart.

Make a note of that, Artie.

From one in my profession, yes,

I would not be shocked

to have worthless securities foisted on me.

But from the official representative

of the United States government, really...

You made a terrible Dutchman.

No, you're joking.

I thought I carried the masquerade off

rather splendidly.

You see, you never remembered to send me my fee,

and my funds were running low.

What do you think the Dutchman will do

when he finds out you've been using

his fine old name to try to feather your own nest?

Gentlemen, I implore you.

You see before you the last of the Eglofts.

Breathe one word of this unfortunate transaction

and the house of Egloft dies out.

All right, we'll keep our mouths shut

if you'll hand over that sword.

But I haven't got it.

That's your problem.

A mutual problem if you still wish

to regain the Sword of Kunioshi.

Does the Dutchman have the sword?

Dear sirs, I haven't the remotest idea.

Who is he?

Gentlemen, if I told you that-

If you don't,

your masquerade will be common gossip

all over the San Francisco docks

within the hour.

Oh, y- You wouldn't.

Yes, I...

I can see you would.

I fear that you have me.

Gentlemen, the key to the Dutchman.

You think I panic so easily, gentlemen?

Now that you two are about to have

an unfortunate fatal accident,

Dutchman need never know about my little prank, need he?

Make a note of that, Jim.

Ah.

Another unexpected visitor.

Excuse me while I get rid of whoever it is.

Oh!

It's a bomb, Artie. Obviously.

We better get rid of it before it goes off.

Artie, if we can't get rid of the bomb, let's just leave.

I love the idea.

Don't mean to sound peevish,

you got any more bright ideas?

As it happens, I do, Artie.

Follow me.

No, nothing.

You trying to tell me that's the one?

Prince, your sword.

Yes, your highness.

It is the authentic sword.

But to be absolutely certain,

one should test it in a fight.

You're the Dutchman, Gideon.

Since that doesn't seem to surprise you,

why does it trouble you?

It troubles me, Gideon, because you were my friend.

Friend?

That is your word, not mine.

A word which epitomizes this flabby,

self-indulgent country of ours.

America is dead, old friend.

Morally dead.

Only the feudal warlords of Asia still understand

that even oceans of blood are to be preferred

to a national existence

without rectitude and discipline.

For this country, there is no hope any longer.

But if by the right use of power

I can force a return to the old ways in Japan...

You can't force a return, Gideon.

You're an outsider.

Not openly,

but in the coming rebellion, by backing the winner.

I'll take the sword now.

Gideon...

You know I'm not gonna let you take this sword.

You really believe that you're ready to take me on?

I don't know if I can take you on or not, Gideon.

But I had a good teacher. Probably the best.

What about your students?

I can promise you,

they will not add their weight of numbers

until I have finished with you.

Nothing could be fairer than that.

So you win after all.

So be it!

But I still say your balance is off by a-

So the final truth.

And the final masquerader.

The demure, concerned daughter of Japan.

Reiko, it was a pose all along, wasn't it?

Some of it was.

Some of it was not.

My love for Falconer,

our dreams of the power

we were going to exercise-

Those were real.

You killed Hannibal?

Of course.

He was just a fat, bloated slug.

Why should I have given second thought?

Those tears I saw in your eyes once...

Were they real?

As to that, you'll never know.

His august majesty desires me

to acquaint you with reasons

why this unworthy servant

attempted to lay contemptible fingers

upon the divine Blade of Kunioshi.

Reasons being briefly...

greed.

Kimberly Diamond Mines.

It's gotta be a half million dollars.

Respectful correction.

Closer to three-quarters million

in American money.

I return to Japan to receive

richly merited punishment for what I have done.

His august majesty desires you to believe

that his existence has been enriched

by your acquaintance.

Remarkable people, those Japanese.

Oh, yes.

Hey, you know, their manners are so beautiful, th-

Deign to enter this most unworthy abode,

whoever you are.

Uh, how may me exalt ourselves

so that, uh, we may serve you?

Do you two feel all right?

I'm looking for a State Department guy.

They told me he needed an interpreter.