Original subtitles

(joyful religious singing)

He's wrong, Juanito. He mustn't do it. Listen to me.

What did he say?

Juanito, as I told you before,

there is too much violence in the world.

And beside that, there's another reason.

I don't want our friend Sabata to get hurt now.

But the Murdocks deserve to die, Padre.

You know the Murdocks stole everything from us here.

- They should be punished. - Juanito.

Have you forgotten what I taught to you?

You must try to forgive,

not sink into revenge.

- I know, Father. - Go tell Sabata this.

He shouldn't risk his neck for those Murdock brothers.

Tell him our prayers are his.

He doesn't need to fight.

But as our Good Book often says,

"The Lord will provide."

Yes, Father.

(Father) I beg you to be careful, my son.

- The Lord be with you. - The Lord is Sabata.

Too much violence.

Order arms!

(Officer) Left face!

Forward march!

- 20 dollars. - 10 dollars on the Murdocks.

Right.

100 dollars on the Murdock brothers. Ain't nobody betting on the challenger?

- How about you, Ballantine? - 100 dollars. On the black.

You can spare a dollar, can't you?

Just to keep this shut up, hm?

Black's my favourite colour, friends. I always win on black.

(squeaking and clanking)

It's best if we all get the hell out. Might get a little hot.

(horses whinny)

I'm looking for a certain man for a special job. Sabata.

Not now. Come on.

We're all set for you to go out in style. Haven't you noticed?

Sabata! You better make him turn!

(feeble squeaking)

(squeaking stops)

(vigorous squeaking)

Hey! Begin the shooting when it stops.

(squeaking continues)

(squeaking slows)

(squeaking stops)

- Sabata likes them lying down. - (all laugh)

Guess Murdock's nailed for good.

Know what I mean?

- Huh? - Ah.

Sorry.

That blasted bird needs oil. Here, you go do it.

(gunshot)

- (laughs) No oil, no money. - Give me that, you little runt!

- Hey, the man you wanted... - I think I can find him.

Let's go.

You know what Colonel Skimmel looks like.

How about it? Will you accept?

I hoped you'd be able to do this job for me.

Thank you.

Adiós.

- What are you doing here? - I thought you might need my help.

May I go with you?

- I make very good tortillas. - I have another job for you.

Deliver this to Father Mike.

Tell him that the Murdocks have found their... great reward...

...and wish to make a contribution.

Hello.

Well... how much did you make, Ballantine?

A mere bagatelle.

I'm here for something more important.

Colonel Skimmel.

We could... work together.

Hey,you!

We Austrians have eyes everywhere.

If you want some advice, forget about those Mexicans.

Oh!

(yells)

Hey! Hey, what is this? Get me down!

You pig, you! Do you hear? Cut me loose!

I'll kill you for this, you dirty American dog!

I swear I'll make you pay, filthy Yankee!

Hang around. I'll be back.

You bastard, I'll get you when I'm down!

(clanging. wheezing accordion chord)

You play that rotten!

(gunshot)

Reach that gate and you're a free man, subject to the colonel's marksmanship.

Give them a chance. Release two, three, four of them, altogether.

Long live the revolution!

(gunshot)

(gunshot)

We appreciate your aid, Garcia.

Colonel Skimmel will be most generous with you.

Garcia Moreno?

Ah, you did very well, dear Garcia.

You helped us expose this filthy revolutionary plot.

You also saved my life. It has not been forgotten.

Our beloved emperor, Maximilian, and this humble soldier, are very grateful.

In the drawer under the model ship, you will find your 20 pieces of gold.

Thank you.

The key is there.

Open it.

(gasps and moans)

- Perfect. - Mm-hm.

As usual.

The worst kind of informer. For gold he would have betrayed his own mother. Or us.

My father, Admiral von Skimmel, used to hang such traitors from the mast.

Everyone here?

Manuel Garcia Otello!

Juan De Los Angeles.

Jesus Rivalta!

Luis Miguel Cortejo.

They're all good men. Yours for the mission.

- I hope you approve. - Aha.

(chuckles quietly)

(murmurs questioningly)

(yells in discomfort)

(crowd murmurs)

(crowd chatters excitedly)

European money.

Who bought you?

Did you sell out to that pig Skimmel?

He's a spy, Ocaño.

Septiembre!

Stand back from the traitor.

Gitano!

Gitano!

The flamenco of death.

(fingers clacking rapidly)

No!

(gunshot)

Gitano and Septiembre are all the men I'll need.

(mesmerizing melody tinkles)

(melody stops)

That gold will buy us guns.

We'll get stronger than their soldiers and nobody can stop us then.

The man who'll be helping you is a soldier.

A soldier of fortune.

He'll find out when the gold leaves Guadalupe

and what road you must follow.

He's made the arrangements with the men that sell guns.

He's waiting for you in Kingsville, Texas.

- And don't forget the password. Hear? - I know.

There's still another thing that I keep worrying about.

Must we leave the revolution up to a soldier of fortune?

This one, yes. He's all right, Escudo. It's Sabata.

Ah. It's very good.

(dramatic but romantic music)

Tequila, a bottle.

(grunts)

(man) It stinks in here.

Smells like pigs are around.

Here, you smell anything, Septiembre?

Your friend has no nose, or he's a liar.

All you mangy pigherders smell disgusting.

- (piano stops) - You're too full of it to be a judge, my friend.

(resumes playing)

(stops playing)

(resumes playing)

Well?

(Sabata continues playing)

- Well? - (stops playing)

Any time.

Uh-uh.

Isn't it enough you lost a friend?

Aw.

(Escudo) Have a beer! (laughs)

The smell doesn't bother him any more.

From now on, he's going to learn to smoke. (laughs)

Thank you, hombre. Many thanks. If friends are what you need...?

Anything for Benito Juarez.

(gasps)

This is our man. This one's Sabata.

Amigo, Ocaño sent us to meet you.

(piano resumes)

Nice technique, huh? It comes with practice.

The last time I played this...

Ah, here it is.

Los Palos, St Christopher's Day.

I've got a bad memory. Write everything down in the book.

- Never without it. - Wait for me outside.

Colonel Skimmel appreciates an artistic type like myself.

Relaxes with me. In Guadalupe, I'm like one of the family.

Out at the fort every day. Seeing things, hearing things.

Do you know Colonel Skimmel?

He challenged me to a shooting match once.

- Hard man to beat. - It remains to be seen.

With four hands, it would be perfect, huh?

I play solo.

Such a pity. Colonel Skimmel has two pianos.

Why not join me?

I'll play the melody.

(both play vigorously)

Hey, amigo. ls your pal in there at the piano with us?

He'll keep out of this thing if I can help it.

- What about them? Are you sure they're OK? - Sure. Who do you think they are?

Those two? Rejects from the local museum.

Huh, them? They're very good men. They're my two falcons, two hawks, two eagles.

Two fighting buzzards. (laughs)

Don't you believe me?

Hey!

(Escudo) See that? (laughs) What did I tell you?

And this one is Septiembre.

You want to see something great? Look. Go ahead.

(laughs)

- Hey, you loco? - You have nothing to worry about.

If we get the gold.

Lieutenant Stejer!

Easy now. There we are. Here we go. There she is.

Detail... forward!

Go!

Colonel Skimmel, I'll never finish your portrait. This is your twentieth sitting.

Ah, I see you write everything down. That's a good idea.

Many great artists have bad memories.

- Time is money. - That's what you Americans think.

But I'm an Austrian. And for an Austrian, time does not exist.

Oh, no. I don't frown like this. My face is more joyful.

- Loosen the mouth a trifle. - You smile so pretty, Colonel.

Packing off a wagonload of grain made you as happy as sending a shipment of silver dust.

You don't miss very much, friend Ballantine.

As I've told you, Colonel, my mind never rests.

The peons are shouting for vengeance.

Mexico's a hotbed of revolution.

We shall crush them.

I've already taken the necessary precautions.

We Austrians know exactly what we are doing. It's all been worked out.

It has been planned, pre-arranged and studied down to its last detail.

It is inevitable and mathematically perfect. We Austrians are men of steel.

- Colonel, please. - We never go back on our word.

Our beloved Emperor Maximilian is our model and our strength.

There. Much better.

Now.

(gunshot, horses whinny)

Whoa!

Somebody's moved in on our game.

- (gunshots resound) - Take cover! Quickly! We're surrounded!

(machine-gun fire, men shout)

(men shout)

- Long live liberty! - Long live free Mexico!

(men continue shouting revolutionary cries)

What's going on?

(yells)

(various) Let's get out of here. Come on!

Adiós, amigos.

José!

Jesus! Juan! My brothers, my friends!

Amigos, may you be received by the Lord above!

(gunshot)

May your mother live on horse dung!

(gunshots)

Two falcons without wings. I was the greatest high-jumper long ago.

- Shame on you for such lies. - Let's go get the gold.

Austrian.

Let's go.

Hy-hoo!

Hah!

Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Wait for me! Give me a hand, Gitano!

(gunshot)

Good. We made it, Sabata, eh? (laughs)

A chest full of gold... to buy arms with.

Buy arms! Buy them to kill Maximilian and drive the Austrians home.

- Long live Mexico! - Long live the revolution!

(all laugh uproariously)

Hey, Escudo.

Does he look like that because he'd like all the gold to himself?

No, not him. Naturally gloomy. He was born with a face that long. It's the truth.

When he was born, there was a great rainstorm. Your birthday's the 2 September?

You're wrong, amigo. It must be the 2 of November, All Souls' Day.

Well done, Lieutenant. Traitors should be shot in the back.

Escudo was in command of the Mexican rebels. I also saw Sabata with him.

I know him. He's a great shot.

They were headed for Texas.

- Thank you, Lieutenant. You can go. - Yes, sir.

Writing table.

- We're in very serious trouble. - They won't get very far.

We have an efficient intelligence service in Texas.

Hm.

It'll be easier to hide individual sacks of gold than a clumsy chest like that.

- Much easier. - This chest mustn't be unloaded.

- Not at this time. That's our orders. - Right. We can't open it.

Whoa.

Whoa.

Wait for me at the San Juan Monastery.

I'm heading in to Kingsville.

The gunrunners will be waiting for me there.

- And so will Ballantine. - Ballantine? I...

- The piano player. - (sighs)

So long.

It's Sabata.

Gentlemen.

Your gun, please.

Gunrunning is a dangerous profession, isn't that right?

I faint at disagreeable sights. That's why they wear hoods.

You're an intelligent man, Sabata. I respect you.

- Why do you join up with scum? - They are more my kind. You're not.

- Mind if I smoke? - Mm.

Oh, I forgot. I took the last one myself.

- I can buy some more with your gold. - I shan't even ask you where it is.

I shall use a little Austrian logic.

In fact, it's discovered already.

When you have gold, there aren't many places to hide it.

Like the San Juan monastery.

Sorry, I don't belong to that parish.

Even so, we will see you have a respectable funeral here, in Kingsville,

as will all your Mexican friends.

I'll be back, I assure you.

You'd be smart to relax a little bit, while we wait for Mr. Folgen to return.

No, thanks. We don't drink with the dead.

I drink only with friends... except for you.

Don't mind my back, gentlemen.

(laughs) Forget it, Sabata. It's your home, after all.

Septiembre, come on in and have a shot.

That won't work with us. Try again.

(gun clicks)

- Your brother? - Mm-mm.

The sun is high.

And where is he?

I don't like this place. It's too quiet.

- Silent as death. - (liquid trickling)

Only Escudo's footsteps can be heard on the dry earth.

Everybody else is dead. Even you seem to be dead.

Ah, go to hell.

And the gold, right out there.

The way things are now, this is the perfect chance to take it.

- Whose chance? - How would I know that? (laughs)

It could even be my chance.

You believed it, didn't you? (laughs)

Why not mine?

(gun is cocked)

Manuel...

(thud)

(gunshots)

We're surrounded. I'll try to draw them off. You take care of the cart.

(gunshots)

These American guns aren't very good, are they?

(yells)

Escudo!

- First we must think of the gold. - To hell with the gold. Gitano!

- (gunshots) - Gitano!

Stop! Don't shoot!

Gitano, amigo, may your soul be received by the Lord above.

(roars) Idiot! You want me to have a heart attack?

(Spits)

- Come on, amigo. Hurry! - (Austrian) Don't try anything. You're covered.

He tricked us. The Austrian bastards will kill us.

- Get your hands up. - (Sabata) No, you first.

Amigo...

(gunshots)

(Escudo laughs)

- Oh. - (ball bearings clunking)

They have the gold, huh?

Hey, Blondito, where do you think you're going?

(Ballantine) Sabata, I'm glad you showed up. Tell him I wasn't stealing it.

I just thought one of us oughta take care of the gold.

Huh?

(Escudo) Gitano, the flamenco of death.

- (laughs) - (feet tapping rhythmically)

(clapping)

Why did you stop me?

It's only fair. After all, he's the one who gave us the information about the gold shipment.

Him?

He said he was trying to protect the gold.

No reason why I shouldn't believe him.

- (Escudo) No? - No.

The gunrunners have been wiped out.

- All we can do is turn the gold over to Ocaño. - We'll take care of that.

I think I'll come along. I got the rest of my pay coming.

Me too. From him.

Don't worry. Now let's get moving.

Every Austrian in the territory will be looking for us now.

We'll make our first stop at Eagle Pass on the Mexican border.

(Escudo) You can thank Sabata we didn't kill you this time, Blondito.

If your crazy stunt had worked, they would have taken their revenge on me.

You saved my life.

If you save a man's life, you're responsible for him for the rest of his days.

It makes me feel quite secure.

About the gold.

You and me. Fifty-fifty?

Hey, what's he say?

- He wants us to try a new idea. - His ideas are nothing.

I met him and knew right away he was no good.

You know why? Because he's got a big mouth.

All OK.

(Ballantine) Admit it's a good idea to hide the gold here.

- Think he's trying to trick us? - Just don't let him get out of your... rifle range.

Come on!

(flamenco guitar. rapid clapping)

Ballantine, hi. (she laughs)

It's been so long. I'm still your favourite model, aren't I?

We... never quite finished that picture, did we?

(gunshots)

(man) Sabata! Come on out with your filthy friends

or we'll kill everyone in the place!

(men shouting outside)

Hey, hold it!

All right, we're leaving.

(Juanito) Sabata.

- What are you doing here? - I got information for you.

The Austrians are falling back. Our people just took Las Palomas and Trincheras.

- How do you know? - I'm Mexican. I know.

How long have you been following me?

Go home.

Go back to Father Mike.

- (Juanito) If you say so, Sabata. - All right, watch your step.

Be with you in two shakes, huh?

Escudo! Where is the cart?

For the last time, where is the cart?

(horses whinny)

(yells)

Manuel, it has been in a good cause and also may your soul be received by the Lord.

You stand honoured by your deeds, up to the end.

Yes. And you shall be a model held in honour among our men.

José, Juan, Jesús.

They shall sing your praises in Mexico in all the days to come.

If I should forget, let me be thrown into the deepest pit of hell.

Hey, I almost forgot! Where's Ballantine?

“Van!

(ball whistles)

(laughs nervously) We were just gonna go look for you fellas. Right?

(mesmerising melody tinkles)

(melody stops)

Take it. Here.

It's yours.

(melody starts)

With a load of gold like this, split three ways,

three happy hombres living in peace and plenty.

- Shall we go? - (melody stops)

Hm.

- We stay. - Ballantine!

Now we may all leave.

Whoa!

“Van!

- But it's for the revolution. - Oh, sure! The revolution.

All this beautiful gold turned into rifles, cannons and death.

- I'm not touching it. - How about trying to buy peace with it?

A load of gold could be divided five ways.

What a contribution to my favourite charity: me.

- No! It's only going to the revolution. - The Austrians are retreating. They've quit.

- How do you know that? - (Sabata) There are ways.

- You're just talking. I don't believe you. - OK, don't.

You planned this in Texas but I won't let you rob us of a revolution.

Mothers, sisters, wives and sweethearts, all weeping and all blaming you.

Me? Why blame me?

You want to change this harmless gold to death and destruction.

Remember your dead friends, Juan, José, Jesús... Manuel?

No! Those men are dead but not that bastard Maximilian.

Mexico must be liberated!

Long live Mexican liberty! Long live the revolution!

All right, you win.

- I think it does belong to the people. - Comes the revolution!

- Ah! (laughs) - Yeah!

Ah... Hey, Señor Gold!

"Today, April 26th, I am finally rich!"

(Escudo laughs)

Gold! Gold!

Sand.

(Escudo) We risk our lives, let them kill our men.

For what? A box of sand? God, we must be crazy.

Well...

Easy come... easy go.

Let's look at the Austrians' logic.

A load of gold is shipped from Guadalupe.

A band, not of Mexicans but Austrians dressed as Mexicans, attacks and steals the gold.

The blame falls on the revolution.

But Colonel Skimmel didn't figure on our raid. Now he knows that we know.

He may be an officer,

but don't expect him to be a gentleman.

One measly sack of the real stuff...

...on top.

Skimmel. That lousy thief. Pah!

Well, gentlemen, it's been fun, but I can't waste any more time.

I want to wish you all the... very best of luck.

Especially you, Escudo. You're gonna have a hard time convincing the revolutionaries

that you didn't steal the gold.

And you know what'll happen?

You might end up dripping fat into the fire

with an apple up your big mouth and a spit up your caboose.

Save your bullets for the revolution.

Adiós.

(Ballantine) ¡Adiós!

I know what's on your mind. I just tell Ocaño the men who stole the gold were those two.

Both of you are cowards. They trust me. I don't have to lie.

- Huh? - Mm-mm.

Señor Ocaño, the French at Candelas and Atienza

are getting reinforcements from Colonel Skimmel's army.

We could attack the fort from the rear, from Texas, across the bridge at Guadalupe.

The revolution is not going to cause an international incident.

Gaviota will fall, then we're set.

As soon as those precious new weapons arrive, we'll strike at Candelas and at Atienza too.

As for Skimmel's Austrians, to cross the Sierras is impossible.

But they could slip out, north, into Texas

across the only bridge the Austrians control,

this one, at Guadalupe.

Perdito, it's a job for you.

Blow up the Guadalupe bridge.

(horse whinnies)

(gunshots)

(gunshots)

- Kingsville is that way. - But Skimmel...

I'd like to collect the money on his portrait.

How much are you asking for it? A chest full of gold?

You kidding? I'd end up before a firing squad.

- I got a plan. - Forget it.

No, I mean it. We go fifty-fifty.

We'll split it in five equal shares.

But how?

Those three?

God knows where they are. Hey!

- Where are you going? - Guadalupe Bridge.

(Austrian officer) Forward march!

Skimmel!

Skimmel, we must be quick. Gaviota's about to fall to the revolutionaries.

(Skimmel) Major Metternich! Open up!

Before nightfall, the entire garrison will be marching toward Candelas to aid the French.

We shall go to Texas at daybreak in civilian dress, posing as honest beer merchants.

- The rebels are blocking the way. - As soon as we cross the bridge, we blow it up.

Hello.

I've brought a present for Colonel Skimmel. It's Sabata.

Just in case.

(match hisses)

Hey!

We just put those in there to bed. Don't go. We have plans for you too.

Perdito! Leave Sabata alone. He works for us.

The bridge must be blown up. It's Ocaño's orders.

Well, I admire your loyalty, friend.

But with the bridge blown up, how can we get the gold to the gunrunners?

We've just arrived now. We've new orders from Ocaño.

Adiós. And good luck.

Now, my Blondito.

An apple in my mouth? I'll show you who's on a spit!

- (Sabata) Escudo! - (groans)

You're always butting in. This time I'm going to punch him in the jaw.

We need him. He knows where the gold is.

(grunts then laughs) Blondito, huh?

Ha! (chuckles)

Four hours till daylight. No time to waste.

Carry a medal for luck if you want, but not my watch.

It's not because it's yours. Septiembre likes music.

Soldier, Lieutenant Stejer wishes to see you.

He's expecting you in the orderly room. Homeward bound at last.

- It's about time, sir. - Of course it is. In fact, it's way past time.

Miguel! Don't we ever eat around here?

This is a forgotten town. The commandant doesn't care if we live or die.

You're right. They blame us for all their defeats. You men, follow me!

There's no other way.

Septiembre.

- (thuds) - (men yell)

- Who's there? - (thud)

All gone, eh?

Well, you picked some time to be without ammunition.

(rope whistles)

(yells)

Hey! You clown.

Take the sentry's place. You too, Gitano.

Listen.

It's impossible to cross the camp square.

I'm gonna open the back door to the depot.

From there, there's a short cut to the gold vault.

Phew!

- Hi. - Good evening, Mr Ballantine.

(wood clattering)

(footsteps)

(footsteps fade)

Let's move. The gold's right next to us.

Ah, you're crazy.

It's not where I would have left it if I'd stolen it.

That's safest.

I'd make a hiding place no one would find. In the ground, a cemetery.

Maybe even inside there.

- Can you read that? - Beer.

Let's go.

Forgot your book.

Thanks for picking it up for me.

(door creaks)

- We made it. - Halt! Don't move!

(laughs nervously) Hm.

You're the last person I would have suspected, my... cultured friend.

Search them.

No, Sergeant. Let him keep it.

You may write your last wishes. I'll see that they're respected.

I would not have given you the honour of being executed by a firing squad.

Squad halt. Left face.

Order arms!

(Metternich) Soldier, come here.

Write it down in your book, Blondito.

- I'll make a date with you in hell. - It's too late.

Squad! Load arms!

Open it.

That's right. I left them. Come on, idiot.

Ready... aim.

Major Metternich!

I'd like this diary to be forwarded to... my mother.

No. Don't bother, Major. I'll toss it to you.

(confused shouting)

(gunshots)

Run for it!

Cover me, Septiembre!

(men all shout at once)

(Escudo) One more blast from that cannon and we're all dead.

(machine-gun fire)

(machine-gun fire)

(roars)

(guns fall silent)

(mesmerising melody tinkles)

I thought so.

Crook.

It's not mine now. I won't need it any more.

The gold...

The gold... Tell the others.

The gold...

(gunshots outside)

(yells)

(croaks and groans)

The gun.

All right. What's the proposition?

What makes you think there is one?

If there was no proposition, you would have killed me by now.

Indeed.

- Order your men to leave. - They've come too far, Colonel.

They want their gold.

Hmph! Only I know where the gold is. And you won't get it.

Unless... you make a deal with me.

Sorry. No deal.

I remember our marksmanship contest in Louisville.

You're the only man who ever defeated me, Sabata.

Pity you won't have another chance to beat me.

- Nothing can beat a superior people. - Who knows?

Sometimes an idea's enough.

(footsteps)

(gunshots outside)

Folgen confessed. The gold is under the ship model.

- Huh? - Just as you are, reach and pull.

Say, you got a great little brain.

Oh, Septiembre can use this!

Folgen. He wanted me to open this and get killed.

- Have you any other tricks for me? - You're wrong.

This is a big mistake. I did my job. My job.

- It's not my fault. - Cowardly pig!

(Folgen) Don't kill me. You can't do it.

You... You can't do it.

(feet tap vigorous flamenco rhythm)

Now suppose you tell me where the gold is.

(Escudo) Well...

(gunshots)

(guns fall silent, wind howling)

Hey, where's Ballantine?

(mesmerizing watch melody)

(growls) How could you do it?

He robbed Blondito.

Ah, poor Ballantine.

To die in the moment of our triumph.

So artistic, so generous.

And the most honest of us all. I weep for him.

May his good soul go to heaven and be greeted by our Lord above.

(weeps)

Wait. This means there's only four of us.

So we divide his share between us. Eh?

What's this?

My God.

Gold! It's gold!

Septiembre, where were you?

What are you looking for?

Saw the best of us, didn't he?

(Sabata) Come on, let's go.

“Van!

“van!

“van!

(bullets ricochet)

(laughs)

Hyah!Hyah!

(laughs)

“van!

Hyah! Go!

(Escudo laughs)

¡Adiós!

(horses whinny)

Oh, no! Oh, no!

(Wails) Oh, no!

Hey, Blondito! Too bad you can't get away with it, huh?

Hey, no! You can't do this to me!

- I'm on your side! - You phoney double-crosser!

Ballantine's share goes to my favourite charity.

- Me. - You're as big a thief as he is, you son of a...

I mean... I never knew your mother, did I?

Hey, fellows! Are you gonna let me help pick up the gold or not,

you sons of...

Subtitles: Rebecca Dodgson www.broadcasttext.com