All language subtitles for 02 - The Night Of The Golden Cobra (09.23.1966)

Oh, I got you a couple
of times there, didn't I?

Yeah, got me good
right here.

Well, Henrietta,
my fine-feathered darling,

what little message
are you bearing?

From the look
on Henrietta's face

it's probably a bill
from my tailor.

We'll know soon enough.

Ah.

"From the office
of Colonel Armstrong,

"commendation
on a job well done.

"Proceed to layover
in New Orleans

"pending further assignment.

Presidential citation
to follow."

How about that?

A presidential citation.

And a layover
in New Orleans,

dining � la carte
at Maxine's.

Yeah.

If I may mention the, uh,
lovely ladies in New Orleans.

By all means mention it.

I'm going to enjoy this.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Artie.

Mm-hm.

Maybe
it's another citation.

Oh, our cup
couldn't run over.

Disregard...

previous...

instructions...

and proceed at once

to Pawnee Indian reservation,

Crater, Oklahoma.

Top-secret classification.

Contact Colonel Stanton Mayo.

Well,

there goes our pleasant
little layover in New Orleans.

Whoa.

I like nothing better
than a brisk ride

in the morning.

The president
of the United States

didn't send me here
for exercise.

Why don't we get right
to the point, colonel?

You're quite right,
Mr. West.

You've been very patient.

Now the time has come for me
to tell you why I asked for you.

I don't know what you've
been told up to now.

But I am Colonel Stanton Mayo,
Territorial Indian Commissioner.

Highly respected,
solid,

foursquare,
both feet on the ground.

But, Mr. West,

I am no coward.

Yet recently,
I've been wrestling

and trying to come
to terms with things

that have made me doubt
my own sanity.

Things that just don't belong.

Things that-

Like that.

What's that?

A maharajah's palace?

Ridiculous.

And what really
is so ridiculous about it?

About what?

About a maharajah's palace,
which this happens to be.

And I'm Napoleon.

I beg your pardon.

I'm registering disbelief,
Rapunzel.

My name is Veda.

Why don't you believe me?

Next you'll be telling me
you're the maharajah's daughter.

I am.

My father
is the maharajah of Karapur.

Ah, I'm sorry
I brought it up.

But since we emigrated

to the United States
of Northern America,

he prefers to be known
simply as Mr. Singh.

A very democratic gesture.

Are you all right,
Mr. West?

I always feel a trifle faint
when I'm bitten by a...

A cobra.

Shouldn't I be dead?

You should.

But Mudjaz is very clever
about cobra bites.

Charming little fella,

I didn't recognize him
without his flute.

Mudjaz is Papa's chamberlain
of the Imperial Hooded Ones.

Or the family's snake charmer,
so to speak.

You might have thanked him.

For what?

For saving your life.

He could have saved himself
a lot of trouble

if he hadn't zigged
that cobra on me

in the first place.

Which reminds me,
Colonel Mayo?

Slightly wounded,

but recovering very nicely,
I am happy to say.

My revered father,
Mr. Singh.

Why am I here, Mr. Singh?

That we may savor the pleasure
of your company, Mr. West.

That touches me deeply.

Almost as deeply
as your welcoming committee

tried to with their lances.

Oh, those blundering idiots.

But there,
I don't have to tell you

what a trial
servants can be, huh?

Uh, Veda,
tell your baby brothers

that Mr. West is awake.

Change that.

Mr. West is going.

Going? Oh, but the boys
are so anxious to meet you.

And I'll take Colonel Mayo
with me, if you please.

Where is he?

Or do we have to have a round
of hide-and-seek?

Oh, dear.

Are you sure
there's nothing I can do

to make you change your mind?

Positive.

This is Gupta.

Chandra.

Sarrkan, the baby.

Don't tell me

that these splendid-looking
young men are your sons?

Quite true, quite true.

The jewels
of my heart's treasury.

Eh, boys, this is
the famous James West

you've heard so much about.

It occurs to me that
it would be downright rude

to leave without a little chat.

What's going on here?

There must be
some explanation, I suppose.

Oh, there is.

And I will give it to you
without further equivocation.

Oh, that decanter at your elbow,
it dispenses cashmere dew.

A fine native wine
with an extraordinary bouquet.

Just the explanation,
if you please.

As you wish.

It is my earnest hope
that I can persuade you to stay

and tutor
these fledglings of mine.

I see.
Any particular subject?

Oh, come, come, come,
Mr. West.

Surely you must be aware

that your reputation
has preceded you?

Has it?

What is my reputation?

Oh, an admirable one.

You have a talent I-

I might almost say
a genius for survival.

Oh, you're flattering,
Mr. Singh.

But survival embraces
so many areas.

And many so dull.

Quite true, quite true.

Begging for mercy,
hiding, running away.

In none of which my boys
are interested.

Which effectively narrows
it down to the one area

in which they are interested.

The gentle art of killing.

Cashmere dew you say?

I believe I will try it.

Candor causes me to admit
that my boys have a certain...

crude proficiency
of their own.

Just confirmed
my private hunch, Mr. Singh.

Cangue.

The crate.

Fondly called the lingering
embrace in our circle.

Had Gupta aimed a little higher,

your neck would have been
instantly snapped.

The charmed circle
you talked about,

what is it?

I'm referring to the Society
of the Golden Cobra,

of which I am the temporal
and spiritual head.

As for tutoring your boys,

isn't that a case of coals
to Newcastle?

Oh, not at all, Mr. West.

Since we are newcomers
to your splendid land

of free enterprise,

it is only right that
the children should, uh, absorb

the Western folkways
of sudden extinction.

You do see that,
don't you?

Oh, when you put it
that way, yes.

Ah, then you will tutor them.

No.

Oh, these boys.

Thirsty young minds reaching out
to the deep well of your wisdom.

Oh, how can you refuse them?

Perhaps the well
has gone dry, Papa.

Boys, a shame.

Just for that,
I give you permission

to chastise them, Mr. West.

They're youthful
and high spirited.

I am perfectly willing
to overlook

the whole matter,
Mr. Singh.

Oh, no, no, no.

I wouldn't think
of taking advantage

of your generosity.

They deserve a good lesson.

Boys, pay attention
and learn something.

All right, boys.

Class is called to order.
Lesson number one.

You should always keep
your opponent...

off balance!

Oh, well done, sir.

Remember those words
of wisdom, children.

Lesson number two,
show your weapons, improvise.

Now, Mr. West, tell us
about lesson number three.

Lesson number three?

Rosebud.

Rosebud?

It's a box of matches.

Of course.

Is it? Or is it supposed
to look like a box of matches?

He's bluffing.

Possibly. Or maybe this
innocent little box contains-

What?

X-51.

Oh, ripping,
Mr. West. Ripping.

One of those ultra,
ultra weapons your chaps

are always so keen
on developing, huh?

That's right, Mr. Singh. X-51.

At the slightest jar,
it's detonated.

Capable of destruction,

disintegration.

I still think
you're bluffing.

Be still, brother.

What do you intend doing,
Mr. West?

I have
an insane urge

to end this
whole dreary charade.

By throwing rosebud.

D-don't be ridiculous,
Mr. West.

That would be silly,
wouldn't it?

Very silly, sir.

Oh, yes.
Yes, sir.

Very silly.

They are matches!

By George,
you're right!

This way, Mr. West.

What do you have in mind,
Rapunzel?

You wish your freedom,
do you not?

That's an attractive notion,
yes.

Then if you follow me-

First,
let's find Colonel Mayo.

Forget him.

We shall need
enormous quantities of luck

just to manage your escape.

All right,
I'll find him myself.

Not that door.

One door down, Rapunzel.
How many more to go?

Very well.

I'll take you
to your precious Colonel Mayo.

You can't have him,
the door's locked.

You just stand back.
I'll fix it.

Colonel Mayo.

Is that you, West?

Is it really you?

What have they done to you?

You see?

You forgot again.

The king moves
in both directions.

Forwards and backwards.

Remember that.

All right, sir.

I'm very grateful
that you take all the trouble

to teach me Parcheesi.

Oh, for the last time,
John Mountain-Top.

The name of this game
is not Parcheesi,

it's checkers.

Checkers.

It's your move.

Yes, Mr. Gordon, sir.

Another game
and another quarter bet,

Mr. Gordon, sir?

No, thank you
very much, John.

Oh, where the devil are they?!

Never mind.

Maybe perhaps you win next game.

And for the last time, John,

if I seem
a little bit irritated,

it's not because I have lost
two games of checkers in a row.

Three, was it not?

All right, three.

Point is that Mr. West
and Colonel Mayo

have been gone all day long.

And I'm just getting bored
stiff sitting around here,

waiting for them to show up.

All right for me
to have an idea, sir?

No, I'm not gonna play you
another game of checkers.

I don't care
what odds you offer.

Not about checkers,
the colonel's horses.

You want I should
saddle one up for you to take

a brisk invigorating ride?

No, thank you,
I've had enough fresh air

in wide open spaces

to last me
for the rest of my life.

You know anything interesting
around this neck of the woods?

There is...

haunted castle.

I don't want-

What?

It's just a joke,
Mr. Gordon, sir.

The Indian boys who do not have
proper schooling like me,

they claim it to be haunted.

Claim what to be haunted?

The castle near Box Canyon, sir.

A castle out here?

Whose?

What's it look like?

I have not seen it.

Colonel Mayo warned us
to stay away.

But the few Indians
who did venture near it-

I know, their hair turned white
overnight from the experience.

Oh, no, sir.

Just severely frightened
by the weird sounds

and the terrible smells.

But of course, these are
ignorant superstitious Indians

who do not have
proper schooling like me.

I see.

Saddle up a couple of the
colonel's best horses, John.

You and I are going out
for a brisk invigorating ride.

All right, sir.

To the jolly old castle.

Oh, no, sir.

It is haunted.

I was having a dream.

A pleasant one
we hope.

No, a silly one.

I dreamed I had fallen
in the hands of my enemies.

How nice to find instead
you are in the midst

of your admiring pupils,
Mr. West.

Ah, yes,
it's a comfort.

For you, Mr. West,
a token of our, uh, esteem.

Yes, an apple for the teacher,
so to speak.

Oh, for me?
You shouldn't have.

What is it?

Should we tell him brothers?

No.

Let it come
as a delightful surprise,

I say.

Last time I saw a basket
like that

Mr. Mudjaz was in the wings
playing a musical obbligato.

A perfect set.

You've thought of everything.

Oh, for you we could do
no less.

Come brothers,
we mustn't

wear out our welcome
with Mr. West.

Oh, oh,
don't leave on my account.

I'm just hanging around.

We must go, Mr. West.

But it will comfort you to know
that Mudjaz will remain.

Yes, to entertain you
with his music.

I had a feeling that was
the way it was going to be.

By the way, Mr. West,

you'll be more comfortable
since we've removed this knife

from that clever pocket
in the back of your coat.

And this ring
of yours

with the amazingly sharp
diamond edge.

You might have
cut yourself with it.

Or the ropes maybe?

Psst.

Mudjaz.

You understand English?

Oh, yes, sahib.

Oh, fine.

Then don't bother playing
on my account.

Sahib,
you do not want?

Oh, it's, uh, nothing personal,

but one long moment
of uninterrupted silence

is what I really want.

You savvy?

Oh, yes, sahib.

Mudjaz.

Why are you breathing
so hard?

It's the intoxicating nearness
of you, Rapunzel.

An idiotic name,
who is Rapunzel?

A storybook character.

And like you,
she had long golden hair.

My hair is quite dark.

And like you, Rapunzel
couldn't make up her mind

whether to play the role
of savior or killer.

I never tried
to kill you.

No?

Then that was
a prize-winning imitation

you put on awhile back
with the blow dart.

Really, Mr. West,

you can be
surprisingly dense.

Did it never occur to you

that by drugging you
I saved your life?

That was the hard way
to go about it, wasn't it?

My dear brothers
were due to arrive

on the scene
at any moment.

After the way
you'd knocked them about

and humiliated them,

do you have any idea
what they'd have done to you

if you hadn't been
already unconscious?

Probably cut my throat.

Exactly.

So at least I delayed
that for a while.

And don't call me Rapunzel.

I'm sorry,
and I'm very grateful.

I guess this is just one
of those difficult days

when everything seems
to go wrong.

For instance,

I could have sworn
a flock of cobras

were gonna make their debut
out of that basket.

My quaint brother's idea
of a lark.

Mudjaz told me, so I arranged
to substitute myself.

In my opinion,
that's a definite improvement.

What now?

I've devised a plan
for your escape.

I'm interested, go on.

The palace guards
will be back shortly

and unlock the cell door.

Mudjaz would be here
to supervise

the removal of the basket
of cobras,

if you know what I mean.

You expect me to get
into that basket?

I will be in the basket.

And where will I be?

Here, waiting
to be brought back

before my father.

I've got a better idea.

If I could only break out
of this cell...

Palace guards would cut you
down immediately.

Please, trust me,
Mr. West.

What do you have in mind?

I want you to put yourself
completely in my hands.

I think that could be arranged.

If only Papa wasn't such
a great admirer of yours.

Is he?

Oh, yes.

So much so that I know

he'd adore having you
as a son-in-law.

You mean, you and me?

And that would be a fate
worse than death?

Mr. West,
that would be death.

Are you familiar

with the old Indian
burial custom called suttee?

Uh, roughly.

It's the old system
where the wife

is incinerated
on a funeral pyre

along with the deceased
husband's remains.

Which I always thought
was carrying togetherness

a little too far.

Exactly.

So if we were married,

considering the hazards
of your profession,

you'd give me a very limited
life expectancy.

I never realized
what a liability I was.

Oh, Mr. West, you mustn't take
this personally.

I- I understand.

You know, you are not
altogether unattractive.

Oh...

now you're just being kind,
aren't you?

Oh, no.

In fact, I've even toyed
with the idea

that it might be
rather pleasant to kiss you.

We'll never know, will we?

No.

Such a pity.

Promise me you won't let Papa
talk you into marrying me.

Mr. Gordon, sir,

please tell me
about man once more.

Would it help you
feel any better?

All right,
John Mountain-Top.

What is man?

Man is a superstitious animal,
and he has been for many ages.

Right. Why?

Because every time
something new arrives

which frightens him,

it is easier to invent
an evil spirit

who is responsible
for some kind of nonsense.

Then he doesn't have
to think or reason.

All he has to do
is be afraid.

Right.
Is all that clear?

Yes, sir.

Because you explained
so beautiful.

Oh, not at all.

It's just because you've lost
your fear, that's all.

It's clear because
you're no longer

being panicked
into believing

that this so-called castle,
where we're going to,

is haunted
or any other such nonsense.

Are we on the right road,
John?

John?

Come back here,

you superstitious
little idiot!

You are
Mr. Artemus Gordon?

I am?

Aren't you?

I-I mean-
I mean, y-yes, I am.

Look, lady, would you mind
calling off your pussycat?

Forgive me.

Oh.

Well,
thank you very much.

You are a friend
and associate of Mr. West?

Yes, I am.
What about it?

If you'll come with me,
I'll explain.

Uh,
what about my horse?

We'll send for him later.

In that case, lead on,
Miss, uh...

What'd you say
your name was?

You can call me Rapunzel.

Where is Mr. West?

He's, uh,
resting, Papa.

Resting? But I sent
those idiot guards for him.

As our guest, he should be here
enjoying the entertainment.

That's true,
Papa.

But perhaps Mr. West
is indisposed.

Nonsense.

He always struck me
as the kind of man

who refused to be indisposed.

Well, don't sit there,
fetch him.

Pardon the delay,
but I was tied up for a while.

More fun and games, Mr. Singh?

Mm, as you see, Mr. West,

our great concern is
for your entertainment.

Oh, you're succeeding
magnificently.

For instance,
the lovely surprise

your boys provided me
in the basket.

You liked it?

Liked it?

I wouldn't be exaggerating
if I said I loved it.

Our boys have high spirits
but hearts of purest gold.

Mmm.

This absurd ape begins
to weary me.

One of the unique
national treasures

that India has given
the world.

The rope trick.

Are you acquainted with this
little exercise in magic,

Mr. West?

Magic?

I always believed
it was done with mirrors

or mass hypnotism.

A thousand year pardon, sahib.

You are a nonbeliever?

Well, let's just say
a doubter.

If I may be permitted
to demonstrate.

Therefore,

I call upon
and invoke the powers

of the four secret corners
of the domain of the crest

and the power of the north.

The power of the east,

of the south,

of the west.

The powers of darkness

are reaching for you.

Extend yourself to meet them.

Siddha!

I, Variabus,

I, Optimus,

I, Baligos,

I, Artemus-

Grab, Jim!

Follow me.

Cute performance, Artie.

I suppose you used
the fine wires with the rope.

Us magicians never reveal
the secrets of our trade.

Wait here for me.

All right.

Whatever you do,
don't go in there.

There's a tiger
in there.

Oh...

There's a tiger in there.

No.

We must hurry.

Oh, the noble horse,
man's best friend.

Well, maybe second best.

Now you take care
of Rapunzel

with the long golden hair.

Well, thank you.
I'd be absolutely delighted.

Let me have
your gun.

Hey, no, wait a minute.

You're not going
back up there without me.

Don't argue with me.

I've got some unfinished
business to take care of.

Your gun, please.

Will you join us in a game
of polo, Mr. West?

What position do I play?

You're the goal!

This game is beginning
to bore me.

Perhaps we can change it,
Mr. West.

We'll let Mr. West be
the ball.

Ah, Mr. West,

a man with a mission.

Which involves a question
that I want answered.

Where is Colonel Mayo?

You know,
suddenly I have an idea

that you're going to win
after all.

I don't have time to indulge
your ramblings.

I said,
"Where is Colonel Mayo?"

Are you threatening me?

Oh, dear, I'm much too old
for that.

Not too old to die.

Oh, come now.

There's so little of me left
to snuff out, why bother?

And besides, Mr. West,

we all know you have no talent
for killing in cold blood.

That can be
a very serious handicap

when you're dealing
with people who have.

Like you, colonel.

Like me.

Don't do anything foolish

or I shall be forced
to demonstrate.

One side, sir.
We have business with Mr. West.

No.
Very pressing business.

Get rid
of these clowns.

Colonel Mayo is right.

Run along, boys, and leave us.

No, Papa.

Not till we have settled
with Mr. West.

Boys, are you defying me?
Go to your rooms.

But, Papa-

Not another word, sir.
Go.

You gentlemen, uh,
flimflammed me very nicely.

Do you mind telling me why?

Our gracious host's idea.

And not a good one
as it turned out.

You see,
it seemed reasonable to me

that if you saw
firsthand evidence

of how, uh, persuasive

we were prepared to be,
you'd be more cooperative.

My getting to Colonel Mayo's
room was no accident?

Oh, dear, no,
quite the contrary.

Although of course,

Veda had no idea
of how helpful she was being.

And now you're going
to tell me

what you mean
by cooperative, aren't you?

Let's take the case

of the hypothetical
Indian Territorial Commissioner.

Administrator
of the welfare

of a few thousand
Pawnee Indians,

who are living out their lives
on a hundred square miles

of worthless rock,
scrub and desert.

And then something happens.

Can you guess what,
Mr. West?

The hypothetical commissioner
discovers

that the worthless rock,

scrub and desert
is no longer worthless.

A pleasure to converse
with you, sir.

The legal boundaries
of the Pawnee reservation

have not been fixed as yet.

It remains for them to decide
whether to stay on here

or move to a neighboring,
precisely similar tract of land.

Problem?

The Pawnees have formed
an attachment for the land,

as Pawnees will.

Precisely.

And despite all the urgings of
the hypothetical commissioner,

they refuse to leave.

All is lost?

Not quite.

Because there is one odd quirk
in the Pawnee's makeup.

To a man they deeply respect
and trust,

a certain James West.

How did you ever manage
to gain that status with them?

Not by swindling them.

And yet, Mr. West,

the colonel and I
are relying upon you

to persuade the Pawnees
to leave this tract of land

and move on to another.

Do you really think
I will?

I think you can be
persuaded to, yes.

Not just to save
yourself pain.

There's also Artemus Gordon
to think of.

And Veda.

Veda?

What do you mean?

Quiet, old man.

Don't believe him, Mr. Singh,
he's bluffing and badly.

I sent Artemus
and the girl away.

Did you?

Guards!

Sorry, Jim, they had
too big a reception committee

waiting for us.

Guards,
what is the meaning of this?

Save your breath, Mr. Singh,
they won't listen to you.

They're mercenaries
for sale to any buyer.

I've outbid you.

Be prudent, Mr. West.

It must be quite a treasure
you're sitting on

to kill your partner.

It is, Mr. West. It is.

And I am going
to show it to you.

Guards.

Tie him up.

We're in the underbelly
of the palace.

And there's my treasury.

Imagine that,
oil.

Yes, oil.

oozing, rising,
bursting out of the ground.

All of which belonged
to Mr. Singh originally.

Yes, he discovered it

while he was building
this stately pleasure dome.

He brought it to my attention
and we became partners.

A partnership
so recently dissolved.

Pity, isn't it?

But I must tell you, gentlemen,
about the geologist I engaged,

about the report he gave me.

Do you know
how far this extends?

No, but I'm sure
you'll tell us.

This is not just an oil well,
gentlemen.

It's an outcropping
of a vast ocean of oil

that extends for a hundred
square miles around.

How nice for the Pawnees,
to whom it all belongs.

They don't know about it,
Mr. West,

and they're not going to.

The geologist does.

How are you going to keep
an ocean of oil a secret?

You can.

If the geologist had
an unfortunate fatal accident

right after submitting
his report to me.

I can't stop now,
Mr. West.

I don't care
how you do it.

But I want you to employ
all your talents

to get the Pawnees
to move on.

And if I fail?

Then I shall be forced
to prescribe

a course of treatments
for Veda.

Two Sikh mercenaries have gone
to join their ancestors.

I expedited their departure.

And now, you,
Colonel Mayo-

Agh!

No! Help me, I can't get out!

Help me!

Oh, West!

For the love of-

It's a fitting
burial ground, huh?

For him.

"To reciprocate in some way

"for the wonderful kindness
you both showed me

"while I was in America.

And so, dear Jim and Artemus,
until my next visit."

Did you want any help
with that, Jim?

No, thanks, Artie,
go on with the letter.

Right.

Uh, where was I? Oh.

"So, dear Jim and Artemus,

"until my next visit
to your lovely country.

"You must remember me
by the present I am sending you,

"typical of India
as nothing else is,

"the Indian leopard.

I hope that you both-"

A leopard?

She sent a leopard.

I know, Artie.
I can see that.

But didn't you hear what I said?
There's a leopard in there!

Stand back, you fool!

Jim!

Artie.

When are you going to stop
being so emotional?

Here, take care of her.
I'll get her a saucer of milk.

Oh, great.

You sure are sweet.
We know you'll be all right.

There's a nice girl.

Jim?

You better make that
two saucers of milk.