All language subtitles for Around.the.World.in.Eighty.Days.1956.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD2.0.x264-ABM

Jules Verne wrote many books.

He was able to transfer
his soaring imagination to print.

His predictions were bold.

What he wrote was regarded
as fantastic fiction...

but much of it has become fact.

Flying machines,
submarines, television, rockets.

But not even his imagination
could shrink the earth...

to the point it has now reached.

He wrote a book called
From the Earth to the Moon.

And in Paris,
that authentic genius Georges M�li�s...

turned it into a movie, 35 millimeter...

just as you're looking at it now.

It was, of course, fantasy.

But as of now,
no one has yet gone to the moon...

to see whether M�li�s was right.

Here is the actual film
as M�li�s' camera recorded it...

at the turn of the century.

I suppose that since man
began to walk upright...

he has been interested in space and speed.

He has wondered increasingly
about the planets he sees in the sky.

The stretching fingertips of science
have moved him higher and faster...

than man has ever moved before.

One of Jules Verne's characters,
a fanatic and a dreamer...

argues for the construction
of a rocket to the moon.

After reasoned discourse,
the venture is launched.

This is the first photographic dissolve.

This is a do-it-yourself rocket.

Rockets have changed.
Photography has changed.

Costumes have changed.

But some things remain unchanged,
even in Verne and M�li�s'imagination.

Jules Verne's rocket returns to the earth...

a minor planet,
where fiction lags behind fact.

Ten, nine...

eight, seven, six, five...

four, three, two, one. Fire!

There is, in this power of destruction...

also the promise of hope.

A world of unlimited power
and limitless hope.

Man has devised a method
of destroying most of humanity...

or of lifting it up to high plateaus
of prosperity and progress...

never dreamed of
by the boldest dreamer.

You are now looking
at the receding shape of this planet Earth.

This is how the earth looks
from a camera in the rocket.

Jules Verne wrote a book
about going around the world in 80 days.

He even predicted
it could be done in 80 hours.

Today it can be done
in less than half that time.

But each journey must have an end.

Speed is good
only when wisdom leads the way.

The end of this journey...

whether to the high horizons of hope
or the depths of destruction...

will be determined
by the collective wisdom...

of the people who live
on this shrinking planet.

There was a time not so long ago
when learned men thought that was flat.

Around The World In 80 Days
is the Jules Verne classic.

And the world was already shrinking
when it was written.

And that was in 1872.

Get your morning paper here.
All about the bank robbery here.

Paper, sir?

-Good morning, sir.
-Good morning, Thorndyke.

-Hinshaw.
-Yes, sir.

Someone's been tampering
with my Telegraph. The pages are crushed.

One of the members borrowed it
to read about the robbery.

You mean it's been used?

-Kindly remove it and send for a fresh one.
-At once, sir.

I'm a patient man, Hinshaw,
but don't trespass on my good feelings.

Pilbeam ! Did you hear that?

-Some fellow stole that chap's paper.
-The devil you say!

Word of honor.

First time it's happened here,
to my knowledge, in 45 years.

The club's going to the dogs.

Next thing you know,
the members will be talking to each other!

-Yes, it's the thin end of the wedge.
-Oh, dog!

-Ice, my lord?
-Ice?

Certainly not.
What do I look like, a polar bear?

Sorry, sir. Several of the members use it
now and then.

Learned it from some Yankee, I dare say.
Those redskins over there drink anything.

A dangerous custom,
as I've always thought, sir.

A man might catch
a nasty chill on his liver.

Or break a tooth.

Remind me to speak
to the House committee about it.

No, by Gad! I'll write a letter to The Times.

-I say, Hinshaw.
-Yes, Mr. Mockridge?

Must we have that confounded animal
around here, stamping its feet?

-Mind the horses!
-That bloke is barmy!

There's a sight!

Move over!
Move that confounded contraption!

When I placed you with Mr. Fogg
a fortnight ago...

I warned you that he was an eccentric.

An eccentric, Mr. Hesketh-Baggott?
The man's a tyrant.

A cold-hearted, implacable fiend.

Must I remind you that you are
speaking of a member of the Reform Club?

I don't care if he's member of the
Worshipful Company of Fishmongers.

The man's mad!

Actually, excessive sanity
is not a necessary qualification...

for that particular institution.

Believe me, sir, he is not human.

Do you know how many valets
he's had in six months?

Certainly I do.
I've supplied him with five of them myself.

And are you aware that he tortured them
with a refinement of cruelty...

which would have put Torquemada and
the entire Spanish Inquisition to shame!

He's as cold and methodical as those
two watches he carries about with him.

You are abandoning yourself to rhetoric.

Remember, you've been rigorously trained
as a gentleman's gentleman.

A gentleman's gentleman is one thing, sir.

A whimpering, cringing...

slave is another.

You are allowing
your native imperturbability...

to be swept away
by a spate of mounting hysteria.

-You really must calm down.
-I can't help it, sir.

If you knew how ardently
I have worked for Mr. Fogg...

how enthusiastically I have endeavored
to cater to his every whim.

His bath water had to be exactly
one foot, three and one-quarter inches.

No less, no more.

His morning toast had to be
83 degrees Fahrenheit.

-No more, no less.
-Extraordinary.

How does one take
the temperature of toast?

Incidentally...

have you found out
anything definite about him?

Who he is, what he does?

-Not the faintest indication, sir. Have you?
-Alas, no.

All I have discovered is entirely negative.

He is not a professional man,
and he isn't in trade.

He has no family connections
or background worth mentioning.

He doesn't go in
for hunting, or fishing, or wenching.

Cannot imagine how he ever got
into the Reform Club!

Perhaps your uncle the Bishop
might inquire for you.

-He is a member, is he not?
-One of the most distinguished, Foster.

We are a very ancient family, you know.

I was just rather curious
about our precious Mr. Fogg.

I suppose he'll be hectoring me soon
for someone to fill your place.

Thank you for your cooperation, Foster.

We must pray for guidance.

You have a nice little position
for a gentleman's gentleman, sir?

-For you?
-Yes, sir.

Never doubt for one instant, Foster...

the efficacy of prayer.

What is your name?

Passepartout.

I am from a very ancient family, sir.

Obviously.

You've had a rather speckled career, I see.
Professor of gymnastics--

-Yes, sir. Watch.
-No demonstrations, please.

Trapeze artist, fireman, chimney sweep.

-Amazing. How did you come to England?
-In a clothes basket, sir.

I escaped.

-From what?
-Women, sir.

A ladies' man?

There are no women in this household.

Now, my conditions are strict.

My timetable never varies.

When I say breakfast at 8:24...

-I do not mean at 8:23 or at 8:25.
-Yes, sir.

-Do you have a watch?
-Yes, sir.

It's probably wrong.

Very well. See that you behave yourself.

Any tomfoolery and out you go.

Come on, Ralph, don't be so secretive.
You're one of the governors of the bank.

Yes. Let's have some lurid details.

Nothing to tell.
You've read the newspapers.

They always exaggerate.

You mean to say the thief
actually got away with Pound55,000?

He did, in brand new bank notes.

Large denominations, Pound500 or Pound1,000 each.

How did you know?
We didn't disclose that to the press.

I assumed it.

Pound55,000 of small currency would have
needed a handcart to transport it.

It must have been compact enough
to stuff into one's pockets.

You're right. The man's audacity
staggers the imagination.

Imagine sauntering up
to the head cashier's table...

and pilfering a sum like that
from under his nose.

Serves you right, in a way.

Surely you have a better hiding place
for your funds than the cashier's nose.

Your persiflage does not amuse.
This has been an unexpected blow to us.

Unexpected, Mr. Ralph?

Bankers must expect robbery
the same way chickens expect hawks.

It's an occupational hazard.
My lead, I believe.

By the way, what was the head cashier
doing at the time?

He was writing a receipt
for the three-shilling deposit.

Go ahead and jeer. We'll lay the culprit
by the heels soon enough.

We've notified detectives
all over the world...

from Liverpool to Cairo.

We've issued descriptions throughout
Europe and America. He won't get far.

I wouldn't underestimate him
if I were you.

You're dealing
with a rather exceptional person.

Really? In what way?

Only a cool and logical man
could have engineered such an exploit.

Obviously a gentleman
with a considerable presence of mind.

You seem to know rather more
about this affair than the police.

Merely what one might deduce
from the facts.

Our trick.

If you ask me,
I'd say the odds were in favor of the thief.

If he's a resourceful chap, as Fogg says,
he'll find plenty of places to hide.

Yes. The world's
a pretty large affair, after all.

It was 100 years ago, not any longer.

A man can girdle the globe now
in three months.

Less than that, to be precise. In 80 days.

You mean a complete tour
all around the world in 80 days?

I mean just that.

-He's talking nonsense.
-No, Fogg may have a point there.

The Great Indian Peninsula Railway
was opened a fortnight ago.

That shortens the trip.
I read it in The Daily Telegraph.

Hang The Daily Telegraph.
I say it's impossible.

Nothing is impossible.

When science conquers the air it may
be feasible to circle the globe in 80 hours.

It's a beautiful dream,
but I'm talking about this moment...

and I say nobody
can go around the world in 80 days.

I agree.

Even if one made ideal connections
at every point...

there'd still be typhoons, shipwrecks,
unforeseen delays.

I include the unforeseen.

All very glib, Fogg,
but I'd like to see you do it in 80 days.

You're convinced that I could not?

So much so
that I'll wager Pound5,000 that you can't.

Let me understand you clearly.
Are you formally challenging me...

to undertake a journey
around the world in 80 days?

I am, and I'm prepared to back
my conviction by posting my check now.

Very well, I accept.

This is absurd. The joke's gone far enough.

An Englishman never jokes about a wager.

I have on deposit at Barings Bank
the sum of Pound20,000.

I'm willing to wager any or all of it
upon the same contention.

Namely, that I can complete
a tour of the world in 80 days.

That is to say,
in 1,920 hours or 115,200 minutes.

Would anyone besides Stuart
care to participate?

I'm no gambler,
but if you want to make foolhardy bets...

that you can't possibly win,
I'm afraid I'll be forced to take you on.

I'm with you.

So am I. What about you, Ralph?

My affiliation with the Bank of England
naturally precludes my betting...

but as a member of this club I might,
under very special circumstances.

Then it's agreed?

-We all accept?
-Yes.

Good. If I remember correctly,
the boat train for Dover...

leaves London Bridge station
at 8:45 tonight.

-I will be on it.
-Tonight?

Don't you need some days
to settle your affairs...

-to make preparations?
-No. I'm quite ready now.

You engage to be back here in London,
in the Reform Club...

on Saturday, September 21 at 8:45 p.m.

Right, gentlemen.
Clubs, I believe, are still trumps?

Shall we finish the game?

-Yes, please?
-Come to my bedroom at once.

Yes, sir.

-I called you twice.
-I came as fast as possible, sir.

You are not supposed to be home yet, sir.

My usual routine is beside the point.

We leave for the Continent in 10 minutes.

-Monsieur is going traveling?
-Yes. Around the world.

Then you will not be here for breakfast.

Around the world?

Exactly. Now reassemble your faculties
and start packing.

Which clothes does monsieur....
I mean, which trunks?

None whatever. Just take two shirts
and three pairs of hose for each of us.

-But I have only one shirt, sir.
-Then take that.

We'll buy whatever else we need en route.
Give me that red bag.

Open it up.
We're going to need plenty of money.

Whatever you do,
never let this out of your sight.

Monsieur can trust me.
I will cherish it like a woman.

Don't make love to it. Just watch it.

Excuse me, sir. My cousin.

Mademoiselle.

Excuse me, sir. It's not my cousin.

Thomas Cook and Son.

You purchase the tickets.
I'll be back in a moment.

All right, sir.

Now, monsieur, train to Marseilles...

steamer to Bombay via Suez,
across India by train...

and steamer again to Hong Kong.

Only one drawback.

With this route,
you miss Bali and the women.

But no, women of Bali
cannot be described.

-Please try.
-No, monsieur. Words would fail me.

In any case, in Yokohama,
you will encounter the geisha girls...

and those, monsieur,
are not to be sneezed at.

I shall remember.

In Yokohama,
I must not sneeze at geisha girls.

Then, between San Francisco
and New York...

you will discover Indian maidens galore...

statuesque, barbaric creatures.

What a crime you have only 80 days.

However, first things first.

Here are your tickets to Marseilles.

Cancel those tickets.
They are of no further use to us.

We cannot go by train.

Has something happened? A wreck?

An avalanche has sealed
the Montfort tunnel...

and nothing can get through for a week.

Then the roads are blocked, too.
How can we go on?

I don't know. But I refuse to be daunted
at this stage of the game.

There must be another way.
There has to be.

But after all, we are not birds.

We cannot fly across the mountains.

That, monsieur, is not unfeasible,
fantastic as it seems.

Isn't she lovely?

I have made 63 ascents, gentlemen...

to an elevation over 1,000 meters.

I've flown through the skies
at a speed surpassing that of an eagle.

Are you quite sure
this is not just Gallic braggadocio?

You are now addressing the second
most-celebrated balloonist in Europe.

-And who is the first?
-He is not available.

He was buried last Tuesday.

Tell me, is this apparatus of yours
for lease?

If I operate it, yes.

If you do, it's only for sale.

-Passepartout, the bag.
-Yes, sir.

-We purchase your balloon, sir.
-Thank you, sir.

It's really very simple.
We empty out some sand...

and we go up.

Then we pull this...

and with any luck, we come down.

I imagine we release some gas
from the top of the balloon.

Gas! I forgot to turn off the gas
in my room.

No matter. It will continue to burn,
at your expense.

Gentlemen, I think this calls
for a restrained celebration.

Guess what's become
of the intrepid Mr. Fogg?

-What?
-He's drifting over the Alps in a balloon.

What's he doing in one of those?

Don't ask me, but it's here in this paper.

I say, he never mentioned
the word balloon.

Not very sporting, is it?

Rather sly, if you ask me.
I wouldn't have thought it of old Fogg.

I don't know,
seems quite resourceful to me.

English ingenuity, never say die,
all that sort of thing.

Does it happen to mention
over which Alps he's drifting?

No. I assumed they were the ones
in Switzerland.

Use your globe, sir.

Could be the Maritime Alps,
in the south of France.

In which case Fogg's not only
on schedule, but ahead of it.

We stand to lose Pound20,000.

What was that you said
about a celebration, Stuart?

If nobody wants this newspaper,
I'll just put it on the table.

The southern perimeter of France.

Often and with justification referred to
in the guidebooks as the "Azure Coast."

-The moment is propitious for our descent.
-Yes, sir.

The gas valve's stuck, I think.
Can you get up there?

I'll try it, master.

They're speaking some
bizarre foreign tongue.

-Do you understand them?
-Yes.

Ask them how far
we are from Marseilles...

and what conveyance
they have for us to proceed.

-Why aren't they speaking French?
-Because we are in Spain, master.

-Spain?
-Yes, sir.

It's a long trip to Marseilles.

But by sea, in a fast boat, 10 hours.

Where would we procure such a boat?

There is one vessel here.
The boat of Abdul Achmed of Tangiers.

Where would we find this worthy?

He sleeps by day.

But at night,
he's in the Cave of the Seven Winds.

-Think that's the man we're looking for?
-I think so, master.

Excuse me, master.

Good evening, sir.

It is forbidden to approach
his august personage.

Perhaps you would transmit a message?

I would like to engage his yacht
for a quick trip to Marseilles.

I will pay whatever he asks.

The ship is yours, sir.
Go where you wish without charge.

However, my master
is an aficionado of the bullfight.

That is why he visits here,
to see the festival of the bulls.

I do not understand.

He was most interested
in your servant's display of cape work.

He would like to see more tomorrow,
at the bullfight.

You mean he wants him to enter the ring?

But that will be a massacre!

Please, master. I'm not afraid. Let me try.

Don't push me.

It's the first time I've seen a real bull.

Look at the horns. It's not my size.
Try to be nice to me.

My ship is yours.

If you leave now
you'll arrive in Marseilles in 10 hours.

The odds are 30-to-1, gentlemen.

Pound50 he doesn't.

-What was that, Mr. Vermilyea?
-I said, Pound50 he doesn't.

And Pound150 he does.

Why delude ourselves?
Even if the odds do go down...

we know that Fogg got from Marseilles
to Brindisi in time to catch the Mongolia.

But supposing
he doesn't get to Suez in time?

His itinerary's thrown out of schedule.

He can't possibly get from Bombay
to Calcutta in time for his connection.

Our money's as safe, gentlemen,
as if it were in the Bank of England.

Sorry.

A bulletin, gentlemen. A late bulletin.

Mr. Phileas Fogg has arrived at Suez!

-Name, sir?
-Passepartout.

-Thank you.
-Here! Just a minute.

Where's the gentleman who owns
this passport, this Mr. Phileas Fogg?

-My master is staying on board.
-Indeed.

He'll have to report in person
to the British Consulate...

to establish his identity.

-Is that necessary?
-Not necessary, mandatory.

It's mandatory. This is different, sir.

Mr. Fogg is at lunch now,
but I will give him your message.

Hello there.

Going sightseeing? Perhaps I can help.

I have to buy some clothing for Mr. Fogg.

I can show you an excellent place
quite nearby.

Monsieur is very kind.

You see, my master and I
came away without our clothes.

Then I take it you left London hastily?

Forty-five minutes after he told me...

-we are off around the world.
-Around the world?

Yes, sir. Around the world in 80 days.

He says it's a wager.

But confidentially, between you and me,
I don't believe a word of it.

Something else in the wind?

I understand he gave the officers
of the Mongolia a bonus...

-to get the ship here ahead of time.
-Yes, sir.

He must be a very rich man.

You can't imagine how much money
we carry with us...

all in brand-new bank notes.

I'm sure you can take good care of him.

No doubt you've been
with Mr. Fogg for years.

No, sir. On the contrary.

I entered his service
only the day we left London.

Indeed.

So he turned up, did he?

Yes, and he gave every indication
of being a thoroughly honest fellow.

Or a very shrewd article.

Here's the description of the robber
I received from London.

Yes. It tallies exactly.
What do you propose to do?

Notify London to send a warrant
to Bombay...

accompany him there and arrest him
the moment he sets foot on British soil.

Very enterprising of you, Fix.

A nice ocean voyage
at the expense of Scotland Yard?

I beg your pardon, sir.
I see my duty, and I do it.

Thank you, sir.

I beg pardon, gentlemen, we're expecting
rather hot weather tomorrow...

so I've arranged the menu accordingly:

"Cold breast of chicken,
potted meats and brawn...

-"curried lamb and rice."
-Capital.

Curry's the only dish
for a chap in this filthy climate.

Purifies the blood, tones up the system.

My luncheon
will remain the same, steward.

Kindly adhere to my instructions.

Of course, sir.
But all that food on a hot day?

Steward, my Thursday midday meal
has always been...

and will always be hot soup, fried sole...

roast beef and Yorkshire pudding,
baked potatoes, suet pudding and treacle.

Your deal, monsieur.

We meet again.
Feeling the heat a bit, are you?

How about a nice lemon squash or a beer?

-It's good.
-Steward.

Bring two lemon squashes.

Great stroke of luck
we happen to be on the same ship.

And both going to Bombay.

Yes. A strange coincidence.

-Have you made this trip before?
-Yes, often.

I'm one of the agents
for the steamship company.

-You know India well?
-My dear fellow...

I doubt if there are five men
who know it as I do.

The mosques, the minarets,
the elephants, the snakes.

What about the women?

Yes. The women. Superb.

-In what way superb?
-Goddesses. Ravishing.

But listen, this tour of your master's...

what do you think his real purpose is?

Perhaps it's only
a secret diplomatic mission.

I tell you, Mr. Fix.
I really know nothing about it.

Don't change the conversation.
Tell me more about these Indian women.

Now, let me see.

Would you excuse me?
I will be back in a minute.

Bombay by dawn tomorrow, Mr. Fogg.
Two days ahead of schedule.

-That's a new record for the run.
-A remarkable achievement, Captain...

and one that deserves
adequate recognition.

-My compliments to you.
-Thank you.

And to the chief engineer. As arranged.

Listen carefully.

Here's the list of the gear we'll need
on our journey to Calcutta.

While you're getting that,
I'll deal with the passports and the tickets.

The train leaves at 4:00.
We'll meet at the railway station.

How dare you! That's a sacred animal!

We've no warrant for this fellow's arrest.
The whole thing is highly irregular.

But he's the culprit, I swear to you.

Wait a moment. I have an idea.
You issue the order for this arrest.

What? I couldn't do a thing like that!

Not even for a reward of Pound2,000?

Needless to say, I'd be willing to divide it.

Pound1,000? No, Mr. Fix.

The matter involves London.

And the London office alone
can legally deliver the warrant.

Once Fogg's outside British jurisdiction,
I'll never get him.

Quite. Good heavens! 4:00. It's tea time.

Yes, I know. But this is a crisis.

Crisis or no,
nothing should interfere with tea.

Devil take the man. Where can he be?

Pattering after some woman
or other, I suppose.

These foreigners, you know.

Come on, man! Come on!

-Thank you.
-There will be no further fiddle-faddle.

Years gone...

there was a time
when one could scarcely travel...

in this part of the country
without encountering corpses.

Those infamous stranglers.

What did you say
the name of the sect was?

Thuggee.

Individual members are known as Thugs.

They worship Kali, the goddess of death.

They slay without discrimination.
Any age, sex, color.

How did you finally
manage to stamp them out?

We didn't. Not entirely.

Our constabulary managed to diminish
the number of murders...

but we're forced to recognize
the Thuggee still exists.

Every few months we come across a few
of the wretches with their ghastly rites.

Strange we should stop hereabouts.

Timetable makes no mention
of a station in this vicinity.

I have no idea.

I haven't been on this line
since they announced its completion.

Excuse me, sir. What is the difficulty?

Difficulty? None whatever.

This is the end of the line.

-End of the line?
-Yes.

There's still 50 miles of track to be laid
between here and Allahabad.

The London newspapers announced
the opening of the railway throughout.

Must've been The Daily Telegraph.
Never would've read it in The Times.

The fact remains that you sell tickets
from Bombay to Calcutta ! That's fraud.

I shall take this up with the Viceroy!

The notice in our Bombay station
is quite clearly posted, as it is here:

"Passengers must provide
their own transportation...

"between Kholby and Allahabad."

-Through the bush?
-I'm sorry if this inconveniences.

It does indeed.

I happen to be rejoining my brigade,
the 10th Jubbulpore.

My friend stands to lose
a considerable sum of money.

Not at all. I made provision for precisely
that sort of eventuality.

You couldn't have foreseen this.

No, but I did expect some such obstacle
to arise en route.

And I took the precaution of gaining
two days while crossing the Arabian Sea.

A steamer leaves Calcutta at noon
on the 25th for Hong Kong.

Our only problem is to find some form
of conveyance from here to Allahabad.

Other than the oxcart,
nothing can get through that jungle.

-What about an elephant?
-I do know of one...

but I doubt if the owner
would part with her.

-Why not?
-She sleeps in the house, with the family.

A pet.

Pound1,000 for an elephant? It's outrageous!
You've been diddled.

Undoubtedly, but it's not often
one needs an elephant in a hurry.

-What is that?
-A Royal Bengal Tiger.

They rarely attack an elephant.

-What the deuce are you doing?
-Quiet, sir.

-Is bad.
-What is it?

It's a religious procession of some sort.
Rather sticky if they spot us.

I think we had better look into this.

Kali, the goddess of love and death.

Sahib, please! If they hear our voices
we will be slain.

-Suttee.
-What do you mean by that?

A human sacrifice, but a voluntary one.

The lady you've just seen is to be burned
on her husband's funeral pyre.

Scoundrels.

You actually mean that unfortunate
woman will be burned alive?

She's quite resigned to it.
It's a matter of religious belief.

This area's not under British jurisdiction.
Nothing we can do.

Forgive me, sahib. But the lady
does not wish to commit suttee.

-She is being forced.
-What?

Everyone knows of this affair.

Her husband was a rajah
and very influential.

-The custom is that she must die with him.
-Where's this murder to take place?

The pagoda of Pillaji. Two miles from here.

What if we decided to save her?

-You can't interfere with native affairs.
-Why not?

It isn't done!

My master does things
other people do not, sir.

Do you think you can you rescue Aouda?

-Is that the lady's name?
-Yes, sahib. Aouda.

Very fine person. Very beautiful.
She was educated in England.

That decides it.

General, we place ourselves
under your command.

Right. Now, our first step
is to reconnoiter.

Follow me.

There are guards all about the temple.

-I can't seem to find an opening.
-And the princess?

-Inside. Surrounded by armed men.
-What course would you suggest?

Simple. Outflank the beggars.

Here's the temple. No, here.

Here's the funeral pyre.

We create a distractionary action here,
start a sortie here.

-General, I have a plan.
-Please!

Then we infiltrate
the guards from the rear.

-Excellent.
-Exactly. Only one problem.

This plan can't possibly
work with less than 75 men.

So speaking as a strategist...

I should say
our position here is untenable.

Whatever the odds,
I'm determined to abstract that woman.

Even though we're only four.
Passepartout--

Now where the devil is he?

Hurry up! Come on!

-Gentlemen, you have rescued me!
-No demonstrations of gratitude.

Allow me to help you.

"Speechless at the violation
of a native temple...

"and the abduction of an Indian princess...

"by Mr. Phileas Fogg,
the authorities have arrested him."

"An Indian princess." Lucky dog!

An absolute scandal, according to this.
The whole peninsula's up in arms.

Wonder what she's like.
A handsome creature, I'll be bound.

Always thought Fogg
had a twinkle in his eye.

Handsome or not,
this barging about a native temple...

with one's boots on is a serious matter.

Could've been, if he hadn't posted bail
and caught the next ship.

I think our colleague's a good bit
cleverer than we supposed.

A devious type, I'd rather say.

Let me see, if he's on the S.S. Rangoon...

he must be halfway to Hong Kong by now.

Somewhere here.

So I did the only decent thing
a man could do.

-You mean--
-Yes, I finessed my queen of hearts...

and forced Finch-Tattersall
to sacrifice his ace.

It was a tense moment.

I wish you'd seen
Lord Dudley's expression.

Poor fellow went dead white.
Bit clean through his pipe stem.

-But I'm afraid I've bored you.
-How can you say that, Mr. Fogg?

I don't think in my entire life....

That's the most enthralling story
I've ever heard.

You really mean that?
I'm most awfully pleased.

-It's so personal and yet dramatic.
-That's exactly the way I feel about it!

I had no idea
you were so keen about whist.

I adore it.
There is a kind of precision about it.

I've always admired men
who are precise...

who have a sense of order and discipline.

-You don't say that?
-Yes, for example...

I simply cannot abide
a man who isn't punctual.

It's extraordinary how well you put it.

We have so little time
in our brief mortal span.

My dear princess,
I must ask your forgiveness.

-Why, whatever for?
-I completely forgot to...

offer my condolences
upon your bereavement.

-What?
-To extend my sympathy...

for your anguish at this time of grief.

-But I don't feel any grief, Mr. Fogg.
-None at all?

You see, I was a wife in name only.

I met the late rajah exactly once,
at the age of seven...

before my parents sent me
to England for my education.

You never saw him again?

Never.

Would you care to hear about the time
I drew a flush hand in diamonds?

If you'd care to confide in me.

Is Mr. Fogg always so proper,
haughty and formal?

Believe me, Madame,
I know nothing about him...

except that he lives by this.

Have there been any women in his life?

I assume he must have had a mother,
but I am not certain.

Perhaps he has some secret sorrow,
some love who jilted him.

He has only one love. Cards. Whist.

He thinks of nothing but whist,
morning, noon, and night.

Very interesting.

Yes, he's a cool article, Mr. Talley.
A very unpredictable cove.

Just when you think you've cornered him,
he gives you the slip.

-Got you puzzled, has he?
-Yes, by jingo, he has.

Look at this heathen young woman,
for instance, this Mrs. Aouda.

I know my man.

And I tell you,
she don't fit into the pattern.

He was down here, you know,
about an hour ago.

He was?

-What did he want?
-This, that, and the other.

He was quizzing me
about steamships out of Hong Kong.

-For where?
-Yokohama.

We're due at Hong Kong
at noon tomorrow.

He sails on the S.S. Carnatic
at 8:00 the next day.

That's what he thinks,
but I'll nail him this time...

you can pledge your last farthing on that.

You didn't do so well in Calcutta,
according to you.

What could I do?

I got him and his servant's bail
set at Pound1,000 apiece.

And he hands it over
without batting a lash.

If that blasted warrant had only arrived....

Cheer up. You've got 20 hours to get him
in Hong Kong before the Carnatic sails.

Yes, sir, I'll lag the blighter there
if I have to turn out the Governor to do it!

Bulldog tenacity, Mr. Fix,
that's the spirit that built an empire.

"134 Lower Lascar Row, Victoria."

We will now go in search
of your uncle, Mr. Cominjee.

Here, follow that rickshaw, chop-chop!

Here's a pretty kettle of fish.

A man trying to run a business
and the door's locked. I wonder what....

Boss man here? Him back pretty soon?

I should say the probabilities
are strongly against it.

I beg your pardon. Where is Mr. Cominjee?

In Holland, I believe.

He amassed a considerable fortune
by means I shall not attempt to describe...

and has retired to Amsterdam
to raise tulips.

He might at least have left a card
on his door to that effect.

The gentleman was quite illiterate, sir,
and moreover, he was pressed for time.

He retired 10 minutes
before the constables arrived.

That alters things quite a bit.

Obviously the princess
cannot remain here, alone, in Hong Kong.

-There seems to be only one alternative.
-I know what you're going to say...

but please don't send me back to India.

If you will excuse me, sir,
I agree with the princess.

You know she has suffered very much.

Your fears are groundless. I have
no intention of returning her to India.

She is our responsibility
and will continue with us to Europe.

I'll escort her to the Royal Court Hotel
and find accommodation for tonight.

You will buy the tickets.

Three cabins on the Carnatic,
sailing tomorrow morning for Yokohama.

-And don't dilly-dally.
-Not dilly-dally.

Here, you, follow that ostrich!

Giddy up!

Strike me, it's my old friend
off the Rangoon.

Hello, sir. Excuse me one minute.

Three cabins
on the steamer Carnatic, please.

Yes, sir. There's been a slight change
in the schedule, sir.

She sails tonight
instead of in the morning as planned.

-I didn't know, but all the better.
-Thank you.

That will be all.

-I trust that you will be comfortable here.
-Yes, thank you. I'm sure I will.

It's very kind of you
to concern yourself about me.

Not at all.

Since you are temporarily alone, the least
I can do is look after your welfare.

I'm afraid I must have been a burden.

Quite the reverse, I assure you.
Your company has been most welcome.

I only wish I could express
my infinite gratitude.

Please, you shouldn't do that sort of thing.

Mr. Fogg, why must you be so British?

-Madam, I am what I am.
-No.

You're kind and warm and generous.

Would you care to join me on the veranda?
They serve an outstanding lemon squash.

If you wish.

-I see you're leaving Hong Kong.
-Correct, my friend.

-And 12 hours ahead of time.
-Think of that.

Nothing stops you and Mr. Fogg, does it?

-What name do you want on these tickets?
-Just copy these.

Look here,
since we may not see each other again...

why don't we have
a little farewell drink together?

Good idea.

Nice and cozy.

Over here.

Remember, we don't have very much time.
I have to get my tickets.

Nonsense. We'll send a boy for them.
Here, you.

You know the Transpacific
Steamship Company in Canton Road?

-Near post office?
-Yes. Send someone over there.

Pick up tickets for Mr. Passepartout.

-Passport, too?
-Yes.

-Thank you, sir.
-Well, what will it be?

-A lemon squash.
-Poppycock.

I said I'd buy you a drink,
and I meant a man's drink.

All right, anything you want,
but not too strong, please.

My friend and I will have
a Hong Kong Snickersnee.

-What is that?
-It's indescribable. Liquid music.

It warms the heart, fires the imagination,
broadens the horizon--

-What's happening?
-Local color.

A sort of a show they put on
for the tourists.

Looks very real to me.

They're just boisterous children.
Ignore them.

Now, look here, Passepartout.

You've been square with me
and I intend to behave the same.

Do you still think I'm an agent
for those fellows at the Reform Club?

-No, but I don't know what you are.
-Then I'll tell you.

I'm a professional detective.

And I'm in pursuit of a very cunning,
very slippery criminal.

Who?

Phileas Fogg, Esq.,
of Savile Row, London.

-What? My master?
-The same.

What do you want from me?

Time. Just help me delay him 24 hours
till my warrant arrives.

All I need is a little cooperation
on your part.

A little cooperation?
Do you think I'd betray Mr. Fogg?

I don't care how much money
you offer me--

All right, you needn't get angry.
I don't blame you, in a way.

It shows you're a loyal
and trustworthy chap, and I respect that.

Here. Let's have a little libation
on the altar of friendship.

You insult my master.
I don't want to drink with you.

Rot. You told me where you stood.

And I say bravo to a man
who sticks to his principles.

Here. Confusion to the enemies
of the Crown.

I can't believe it.

Honorable gentleman
feeling better this morning?

What are you doing here?

Why is the hotel moving this way?

What? Steamship, not hotel.
You're on board the steamship Carnatic.

Yes. We go Shanghai,
then we go Yokohama.

Finished?

-Where is Mr. Fogg's cabin?
-Next door.

But Mr. Fogg not on board.

-What about the princess?
-Princess? No, you come alone.

Police, they find ticket in your pocket.

Carry you here. You sleep like baby.

I betrayed my master. Everything is lost.

What about my money?

-They robbed me, too.
-Is bad.

You not like Yokohama.

You not have money,
Yokohama not like you.

I betrayed my master.

My good man,
I realize the Carnatic couldn't wait.

The point now
is what other vessel can we get?

Nothing that could make
the voyage to Yokohama, sir.

No steam packet, tug, or lighter?

There must be something
in a port this size.

At the moment, not a thing.

Good morning, Mr. Fogg.

-I'm afraid I don't--
-We traveled together on the Rangoon.

-My name is Fix.
-Yes, Mr. Fix. How do you do?

-I believe you know my manservant?
-Very slightly.

-Why? Has something happened to him?
-The fellow seems to have disappeared.

-I'm sorry to hear that. He's a nice chap.
-I shall have to inform the police.

I shouldn't do that if I were you.
He'll turn up.

-Missed your boat?
-Yes.

-There'll be another along in a week.
-I shall not be here.

-No?
-Yokohama is my destination...

I shall get there if I have to swim.

Are we on a direct course for Yokohama?

The Carnatic is bound first for Shanghai.

We may arrive in Yokohama
the day after her.

We're still in plenty of time to catch
the General Grant for San Francisco.

Very sporting of you
to let me share your craft, Mr. Fogg.

Nonsense.
Anything for a fellow Englishman.

I trust your cousin in San Francisco
will be better by the time we arrive.

-Poor old Marmaduke.
-Thank you.

Princess.

Fish, Fix?

Steady, Mr. Fix. Fujiyama ahead.
We'll be in Yokohama by morning.

There's the Carnatic.

I imagine that steamship just behind her
is the General Grant.

Now the only thing missing
is Passepartout.

The police in Hong Kong
said they put him on board.

They also said he was penniless.
So we may have one clue.

The man is a jack of all trades.
He's told me a few of them.

We might be able
to find him by deduction.

That is the new science
employed by our British police.

Really? I learn something useful
every moment I'm with you, Mr. Fogg.

I hope you find your man.

Two orchestra stalls, please.

Great Scott. Look.

Master!

-Master, what genius to find me.
-Merely logic. Now come along.

The General Grant is preparing to sail,
and we haven't a moment to lose.

What a pity.

Mr. Fogg has already organized
his whist game.

Princess, Mr. Fix is a detective.

He thinks Mr. Fogg has robbed
the Bank of England.

Nothing escapes Mr. Fogg.

But Mr. Fix won't delay us.
We're out of British jurisdiction now.

He's in America.

Don't tell me about men. They're all alike.

I wouldn't trust the best of them.

This here Phileas Fogg,
I'm sure he's different.

It takes a gallant, adventurous bloke
to dash around the world like that.

Don't be so soppy.

He's probably running away
from some housemaid he ruined.

You do have a horrid mind, Cora.
I think he's terribly romantic.

-They say he's so good-looking.
-Rot.

I don't care if he's Venus, Adonis
and Mercury both.

He'll never do it in 80 days.

-I bet you 10 bob he don't.
-I'll take that.

Here's my money.

-Where's yours?
-Here it is.

-What's up?
-Call a bobby. I've been robbed.

The voice of all our citizens!

-I ask you, who will you vote for?
-Mandiboy!

Mandiboy is our man!

Please, Mr. Fogg, let me watch.

Is this a religious spectacle?

Some kind of an election, I would judge.

Perhaps they are creating a new president.

Whatever it is,
I suggest that we move over there.

Bye-bye!

Thank you, sir.

Why don't you eat with a fork
like everybody else?

-Thank you.
-You're welcome, sir.

Thank you. It's good.

For you.

-It's good.
-For you.

Do you like it?

-I'll eat it later.
-Scrambled eggs.

How many times did I have to tell you
to stay out of here, you donkey? Come on.

Louder.

Looking for someone?

Yes, a small, dark fellow.
He wandered in a few moments ago.

Could be almost anybody.
Sit down and describe him to me.

-I'm afraid I can't. I'm in a hurry.
-Never be in a hurry.

You'll miss the best parts in life.

Madam, you don't understand.
I'm looking for my man.

So am I.

Mr. Fogg, there's Passepartout.

-Put down that chicken and listen to me.
-Yes, master.

This is a primitive country.
We'll need some protection.

-I have this.
-Nothing so medieval. A brace of pistols.

-Pistols?
-Nothing extravagant.

-Oh, no, sir.
-And you have 47 minutes.

-The train leaves on the hour.
-I shall be there.

-I've told you, don't spoil the natives.
-Yes, sir.

Still in a hurry?

I thought the English were a calm,
dreamy sort of people.

Listen, you. Get out and stay out.

If I catch you here again
I'll cut you up in a thousand pieces.

That won't be necessary, I assure you.
I'm just leaving.

An unexpected pleasure
to meet you here, Mr. Fogg.

-Did you have an enjoyable crossing?
-We didn't see much of you aboard ship.

Yes, I was a victim of mal de mer,
I'm sorry to say.

You won't be lingering
in this sort of a hubbub much longer.

-Are you taking the transcontinental train?
-Yes, the very next one. Are you?

-Yes.
-How's your cousin, the one who was ill?

Yes, poor old lady.

She didn't trust the doctors here.
She's gone on to New York.

Thought your cousin was a man.
I remember the name Marmaduke.

Angelica Marmaduke. Lovely old lady.

For a good smoke, try these, gentlemen.

For a good government,
vote for Lucius P. Mandiboy.

Thank you, no.
I only smoke my own blend.

You do, do you?

You don't want to befoul your lips
with a plebeian cigar?

I just prefer what my own tobacconist
compounds for me.

Sweet spirits of niter,
aren't you the tender bud.

Tell me, Percy, who you voting for?
Camerfield or Mandiboy?

Neither. I'm a foreign visitor...

and therefore unconcerned
about who triumphs.

I'll be a ring-tailed sidewinder,
if you don't raise my gorge.

Yes sirree Bob!
I'll be a dad-blamed polecat...

if you aren't about as ornery a specimen
as ever I clapped my eyes on.

What kind of foreigner are you?
Maybe a hootchy-kootchy dancer?

-Unhand that lady, sir.
-Why don't you make me?

-I will, without further invitation.
-Why, you dirty--

Let us proceed.

-Now what is the delay?
-Indians. But they're peaceful Indians.

You can tell that
by the peace pipes they're smoking.

Further down the line,
they're not so friendly.

Is the entire American population
in the way of this train?

These American trains, quite impossible.

Yes, sir. I go, master.

She'll never take the weight of this train.
We better go back.

What's all the fuss here, boys?

Can't you fellows run a railroad
without stopping every five minutes?

That bridge
won't hardly hold a locomotive.

Why, hang me for a sheep-stealing
son of a tarantula...

if you ain't a pack
of yellow-bellied milksops.

-Am I right, scout?
-Yes, sir, you're right.

-No, I ain't chancing it, fellows.
-Here, take a snort of this 40-rod.

Back up your old teakettle there,
and shoot her over at 30 miles an hour.

Let her roll!

That's the spirit, partner.
Bear down on that throttle.

Now that's what I call
a proper rate of speed.

I'll be a rattlesnake's uncle.

Thought you'd run away,
you yellow-bellied lime juicer.

-Hit a man with an iron bar, will you?
-Spades are trumps, I believe.

"Spades are trumps, I believe."
My dear Algernon, really.

-Be so good as to play.
-"Be so good as to play."

Gracious. Why don't you play
a man's game?

Poker, red dog, euchre.

Want me to learn you how, Algie boy?

Or should I learn you how to fight fair?

Would you pardon me?

Sir, you are an insolent bully
and I demand satisfaction at once.

Mind moving into the other car, please?
lt'll only be a minute or so.

Now, don't miss, boys,
you can damage the woodwork.

The company's liable
to take it out of my salary.

-Ready, or do you want to holler uncle?
-I'm ready.

We will count to six together,
turn, and fire at will.

-Now?
-Now.

One, two, three, four...

five, six.

Take this.

Redskins!

Thanks, partner. You may be a foreigner,
but you're true-blue.

Are you all right?

I'm all right,
but look what they've done to my coat.

The train is running away.

They must have got
the engineer and fireman.

What do you suggest?

Fort Kearney's just ahead.
That's where the cavalry is.

-But we'll pass right through at this rate.
-Somebody's got to stop the train.

One of us must get to Fort Kearney.

I'll try.

Poor Passepartout. Not a trace of him.

Everyone else seems to be accounted for.

There's no sign of your valet.

I'm afraid he's fallen into the hands
of the Sioux.

It was a deliberate sacrifice
to save the rest of us.

-What will they do to him?
-The Sioux are pretty merciless.

You've heard about their tortures.

Colonel, we must send
a rescue party at once.

Excuse me, mister.

I know it sounds kind of heartless...

but we can't hold the train.

That's a minor consideration.
A man's life is at stake.

Any of you want to volunteer
for a raid against the Sioux?

-I will, sir!
-I will!

It's too warm.

Don't be blue, folks.
Everything is gonna be all right.

There'll be a local through here tomorrow.
That'll fetch you into Omaha the day after.

Yes, and lose 24 hours.

If we miss our steamship in New York,
how will we get to Liverpool on time?

I'm darned if I understand you city folks.
Always rushing.

Always thinking about the future.

No wonder you have stomach trouble.

It's all my fault, sir.

You should have caught the train
and let those Indians cook me.

Then everyone would've been happy.

Balderdash.

What I always say is,
it's an ill wind that blows no good.

Ease off the halyards.

Steady, man.

Look, the train. The train broke down.
Stop the wind, master.

Contain yourself, Passepartout.

Everything's under control.

Those homemade American trains.

Goodbye.

Well-played, Dennis.

You have a natural aptitude for the game.

Perfected by four years
of practice at Oxford.

I did nothing else.
Cost my poor old governor over Pound12,000.

Worth every penny of it.

Hello, Sir Wilmette.
Haven't seen you in donkey's years.

-Are you staying at the club?
-No.

-You have a house in town, no doubt?
-No.

-Then you live in the country, do you?
-No.

-Anywhere near London?
-No.

Hard luck.

Good day.

Here we are, gentlemen.

From the British Consulate, New York.

Things are looking up.

"Phileas Fogg and party
presented their passports...

"at 2:30 Greenwich time this afternoon."

-What time did that steamship sail?
-Wait, I have a schedule here.

Here we are. "City of Paris...."
No, that's yesterday's.

Wait a minute.
"Cunarder, China. New York, Liverpool."

-Sailed today, 9:00 a.m.
-He's missed it by five hours.

Not another eastbound vessel
for three days.

I don't wish to crow, gentlemen,
but I feel the crisp crackle of Pound20,000.

Let's crack that bottle of champagne
we've been saving.

Right you are. But first,
what about a bet or two on the side...

before this information leaks out?

-We better get over to Lloyd's.
-Come on.

Listen.

They opened the telegram
while I was there.

Fogg missed the China.
He can't possibly make it now.

-Are you sure?
-Positive.

Then I'll chance another couple of quid.

You take care of things
while I slip round the corner.

Wait a minute.

Put down an extra fiver for me.

No, gentlemen, not a bit of activity all day.

There are just no odds on Mr. Fogg.

How can that be?
We could barely get in here last Thursday.

Yes, it's very mysterious.

You never know from minute to minute.

I have just received some rather
disquieting information about Mr. Fogg.

You know Mr. Carmichael,
the General Manager of Lloyd's.

-This is Inspector Hunter of Scotland Yard.
-How do you do?

This will be very painful
to hear, gentlemen.

We've just received confirmation of
something we've suspected for some time.

The man who robbed the Bank of England,
and your fellow clubman Phileas Fogg...

are one and the same.

-Of all the ridiculous nonsense!
-You don't really believe that.

Have you any grounds
for making this charge?

We have, sir. Some very striking facts.

Coupled with behavior
that points to his guilt.

-I don't believe it.
-Nor do I.

You've heard that Mr. Fogg didn't sail
on the Cunard steamship China.

-What of it?
-Read them that message, Mr. Carmichael.

"At 6:00 a.m. today,
our New York office reports...

"that trading ship Henrietta
departed New York...

"with a cargo of cotton,
linseed oil, and lumber.

"Her three passengers were
Mr. Phileas Fogg and party."

And the Henrietta's destination
is Caracas, Venezuela.

We have no extradition treaty
with Venezuela.

In other words, Mr. Fogg has bolted.

A member of the Reform Club....
My mind rejects the whole idea.

There must be some explanation
for all this.

Perhaps, but the only man
who can make it...

is on the high seas at this moment,
bound for Central America.

Begging your pardon, sir,
we're way off course for Venezuela.

-Have you assumed command of this ship?
-No, sir.

Captain, don't overlook
the rest of our bargain.

By all means. Go below
and tell the engineer I want full steam.

-Full steam?
-Full steam. As much as she'll take.

You're burning her up too fast.
You'll never make it.

Just steer the ship, Captain.
Don't speculate.

What's happening?
Why are we slowing down?

Well, that's it. They just put
the last teaspoon of coal in the old scow.

It's all finished, Mr. Fogg.

Still got a little breeze left,
but I don't think it'll get you there in time.

Only three more days to go.

I still can't believe
that Fogg robbed the Bank of England.

No British gentleman, having done so...

would have the effrontery
to set foot in this club.

Capt. Speedy, I will be direct with you.

How much will you accept
for this vessel, cash in hand?

-Why, this is exceptional--
-Pounds 5,000?

Pounds 5,000? This deck
is made of Burmese teak.

Please dispense with the poetry.
Passepartout, get the bag.

Yes, sir.

Will that be sufficient?

-She's yours!
-Done.

Now, as the new owner,
I wish to issue my first command.

Pile everything that will burn
into the stoke hole.

The cargo first, of course, that linseed oil.

Then the upper decks, masts,
tables, chairs, windows...

ladders, everything,
including the lifeboats.

-Is that clear?
-The lifeboats?

Lifeboats. You heard what the man said.
Is that clear?

Come on. Keep moving.

No, not her.

Not Henrietta!

Not her. No!

-The gauges are falling fast.
-There's nothing more to burn.

How are we faring?

The pressure won't last
more than an hour.

-One hour?
-That's right.

Engine room.

-Land ho!
-Land ho!

That was a close one. I never exactly
made a voyage like this before...

-but I can't deny it, we got here.
-Thanks to you and your men.

After I put you ashore,
where do you want me to dock?

Anywhere you wish.
I don't need her anymore, she's yours.

Thanks for the ship, what's left of it.

But you could rebuild--

You rebuild her.
I have more pressing matters.

Thank you very much.

My friends, the end of our journey is near.

Eight hours and 42 minutes
of the allotted time remain.

Our train arrives in London at 6:02 p.m.,
ensuring ample time to proceed...

to the Reform Club and settle the wager.

-Phileas Fogg! Stop that man!
-Don't delay, master. Come on.

-What the devil is this?
-Are you Phileas Fogg?

Of course I am. Are you insane?

-Then I arrest you in the Queen's name.
-Arrest? On what charge?

Of purloining Pounds 55,000
from the Bank of England...

on the third of July.

-It's not true.
-Silence.

You thought you were clever,
Mr. Phileas Fogg.

Thought you could outwit me, didn't you?

Hold him.

It's not true, sir.

I can't understand it.
The most shocking mistake.

It's never happened in my career.

It would seem that I owe you an apology.

The most terrible thing has happened.

The real culprit was
apprehended in Brighton.

I am no longer suspect?

No, not in the least,
but I would like to tell you...

I've never had any
personal animosity for you.

On the contrary, you've always been
a perfect gentleman and most generous.

It's almost a pity
that you're not the real robber.

You're so daring.

Now that you have
successfully thwarted me...

and placed in my path the only obstacle...

which I could not make provision for...

I feel I can tell you I have never
really enjoyed your company very much.

And furthermore, you play an abominable
game of whist. Good day, sir.

The wager is lost. Come.

What a gloomy place.

So melancholy, so joyless.

I'm sorry, Mr. Fogg.
I didn't mean to criticize your taste.

No, you're right. It is depressing.

-Passepartout.
-Yes, sir?

Look at the clocks.

Get in touch with Mr. McMonnies
and have them put in order.

-Right away, this morning.
-No, it's Sunday today. Tomorrow.

Make up the spare bedroom
for the princess.

Light a fire and see to her comforts.

Certainly, sir.

Madam, if you'll excuse me,
I'd like to spend the rest of the day alone.

-Passepartout.
-Yes, sir?

Turn out the gas in your room.

You needn't bother, Passepartout.
I'll take this up to him.

He won't eat, Madame.
He is feeling very low.

Poor man.

You know, his whole fortune,
all that he risked...

everything is lost.

-What will become of you?
-I can take care of myself.

After all, I have a dozen professions...

fireman, acrobat, traveling companion.

You must eat something, Mr. Fogg.

-No, thank you.
-Please.

You're angry with me, and justly.

Good heavens.
Why should I be angry with you?

You might have won your wager
but for me.

You saved my life at the risk of your own...

generously, impulsively.

I repaid you by delaying you,
involving you needlessly.

On the contrary, I owe you an apology
for bringing you to England, penniless.

You must not concern yourself with me.

Anything that has overtaken me
is a direct result of my own folly.

I refuse to deceive myself,
and I don't like self-pity.

Possibly things aren't as desperate
as they seem.

To be candid, at the moment
they're not particularly promising.

-Surely your friends could aid you.
-I have no friends.

-Nor relatives?
-Not a soul.

Then I truly feel for you.

I know how tragic solitude can be...

when one has nobody
with whom to share his grief.

In my country, Mr. Fogg,
it is said that misfortune...

if shared with another sympathetic spirit,
can be borne with resignation.

Do you wish at once
a kinswoman and a friend?

I'm not sure that I interpret you correctly.

Will you have me for your wife?

Aouda, my darling.

Yes, sir? Yes, master?

I want you to go
to Rev. Samuel Wilson...

of Marylebone Parish at once.

-Right away, sir.
-Arrange for a wedding.

-One wedding, sir. When?
-Tomorrow.

Will that be all right, my dear?

-Yes, tomorrow.
-Ol?, sir!

Curtail the jubilation, please.
Bring the Reverend Wilson with you.

Yes, sir.

-Yes?
-A wedding. Come with me.

-No, I don't think so.
-Quickly. It's an emergency.

-I'll get my hat.
-Quickly.

Saturday.

It's Saturday.

And so many clocks.
Couldn't there be just one?

Anything you suggest, my dear.

How dare you bolt into a room
in this fashion?

Where's your training?
And remove your hat.

It's not Sunday, it's Saturday.

-We have 10 minutes left.
-What are you jabbering about?

It's Saturday! Look for yourself.

Fiddlesticks. The printers
must have made an error.

-You have made error.
-We will review your impudence later.

Allow me to disillusion you.

I have kept a detailed record
of every single phase of our entire trip.

We went around the world in 80 days,
this is the 81....

It's Saturday.

We went eastward around the world,
always moving towards the sun.

Great heavens.
We've crossed the International Date Line.

We've gained an entire day.
This is the eightieth day.

We have 10 minutes and 50 seconds left
to get to the club.

You wait here, my dear.
Come, man, don't dawdle.

Cabby, Reform Club.

-Who?
-Reform Club.

Mind you, it's none of my business...

but do you think you'll get into
the Reform Club dressed like that?

Drive on, man.

-What's the matter? What happened?
-I'm sorry, sir. It's the hiccups.

I'm taken very bad.
I can't do a thing with them, sir.

-Blimey.
-Confound the man.

It's all right. I drive.

-What's the matter with the beast?
-It's no good, sir. He can't do it.

He'd love to, but he can't.

He don't take orders from nobody but me.

-Come on, please.
-It's no good. He can't do it.

No, he won't do it.

The devil never sleeps, brethren.
Even now as we stand here...

he is hurrying some poor soul
to his doom...

tempting him down the path of iniquity.

And now, I shall take up the collection.

Excuse me.

Sir, would you like
to contribute something to our cause?

I don't think I have anything.
Wait. There's something.

-A fiver?
-Please, I'm in a hurry. It's a wager.

A wager? Did you hear that, brethren?

Our poor, benighted sinner is the very sort
I've been telling you about.

Don't do it, sir.
Don't give in to the Prince of Darkness.

-I haven't the faintest intention of giving--
-Have courage, my boy, to say no.

Turn to Hymn 579, everyone,
and lift up your voices...

to save our poorly beset brother.

Good heavens. Why wait any longer?

-He's lost the wager--
-Of course he has, 20 times over...

once he missed
his transatlantic connection.

Steady on, chaps. Play the game.
Remember, we're all British gentlemen.

-There's still 14 seconds to go.
-The man's not superhuman.

What do you expect him to do? Pop down
the chimney like Santa Claus?

I haven't the least idea. I only know
that Fogg is the most punctual man alive.

Gentlemen, here I am.

I trust that I've not kept you waiting.

Hello, Fogg.

Great Caesar's ghost!

A woman in the club!

My dear, I must ask you
to leave these precincts at once.

-No woman has ever set foot in the club.
-Why not?

Because that could spell
the end of the British Empire.

This is the end.