All language subtitles for Fantasy Island S05E03 Cyrano The Magician.WEBRip x264 [i_c].NonHI.en

The plane! The plane!

"all this bother.
The princess..."

Bye-bye. - Bye.

Good morning, Mr. Roarke.

Good morning, Julie.

Smiles, everyone. Smiles.

Mr. Timothy Potter
from Cleveland, Ohio.

What's his fantasy?

Mr. Potter is an
amateur conjurer.

He entertains at hospitals
and at children's parties

with card tricks

and producing a
stuffed rabbit out of a hat,

and all the familiar
prestidigitations.

Oh, that's nice. He
gives pleasure to people.

Sometimes. That is debatable.

Unfortunately, Mr. Potter
is not a very good conjurer.

You might say his sleight
of hand is slight indeed,

and his magic...

tragic.

Oh.

I'm afraid he blew it.

Yes, as usual.

That is why his fantasy is to be

not just a good magician...

but to be the very best.

I don't know about that.

- What a stunning lady.
- Yes, indeed.

Her name Ms. Marjorie Denton.

Would you care to guess
her profession, Julie?

Movie star? Maybe an actress

who wants to write the
Great American Novel?

Would you believe a bus
driver from Philadelphia?

Really? -ROARKE: Yes.

- A bus driver?
- Well, why not?

She is one of that new
breed of women who believe

they can do most
things as well as men.

And therein lies her problem.

She has found there
is an unexpected price

to such beliefs,

and she hungers for the old days

when women were treated
with grace and chivalry.

What's her fantasy,
to wear a crinoline?

No, Julie. Ms. Denton's dream

is simply to meet
the most exciting,

gallant, and virile
man in the world.

Well, I can certainly
sympathize with that fantasy.

Can you, Julie? Well...

Unfortunately, to fulfill
her fantasy will expose her

to dangers she
cannot anticipate.

My dear guests, I am
Mr. Roarke, your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

I'm so grateful to
you, Mr. Roarke.

If you only knew how desperate
I am to be treated like a woman.

To find a man with
some real manners.

Someone to bring
out the feminine in me.

That, I promise,
you will experience.

And in what better way
could I satisfy your fantasy

than to transport you
back to the very days

when such men were plentiful.

- You mean back in time?
- Exactly.

Julie?

Remember, Ms. Denton,
you are going back to a time

when human life
was held very cheaply.

Although men gave that
special attention to the ladies,

that trait you so admire,

the women were
also almost slaves,

subject to many
restrictions and sometimes...

great cruelty.

You can't frighten
me, Mr. Roarke.

I see.

Then step through
that door, Ms. Denton.

Good luck.

How can I be of
service to you, my lady?

I'd like some dinner.

Oh, this way please, my lady.

You owe me 10 francs, Gaston.

Herr Potbelly.

Hey, you befuddled oaf, wake up.

Won't you leave a man to sleep?

That lady.

A handsome creature.

Handsome?

Oh.

She is Desdemona,

Cleopatra, Helen,
all rolled into one.

I must win her love or die.

Help me, please. I am
paralyzed in her presence.

The sight of such
beauty strikes me dumb.

If you wish to do
a little business,

why didn't you say so before?

Something with a deep
sincerity of feeling, I think.

To penetrate the
recesses of her heart,

flights of romantic fancy.

Here... the perfect sonnet.

Take a card, Mr. Roarke.

Is that your card?

No.

I'm terribly sorry.

Oh, well...

That's all right.

I practice every day,

but I guess I'm just
naturally clumsy.

See, the reason I do
my magic is because

I have no family of my own,

and I like to make
people feel good.

Makes me feel close to them.

Unfortunately, I am
the Great Butterfingers.

That's me.

-Julie? -Hmm?

Oh.

Maybe this will open up
some new possibilities for you.

Yes.

The key unlocks that trunk,

which is full of
assorted paraphernalia,

items of wardrobe,
but, most importantly,

personal journals which
contained the secrets

of all the greatest
magic tricks of all time.

And who is to say
that some of those

great stage
magicians of the past

did not in fact possess...

real magic, Mr. Potter.

That's terrific, Mr. Roarke.

I can't wait.

Oh, first, take the trunk

to your bungalow, Mr. Potter.

Study its contents. Study well.

You see, I have arranged for
a special matinee performance

for you this very afternoon.

What do you mean,
a real performance?

Yes.

Mr. Roarke, will I be ready?

I sincerely hope so, Mr. Potter.

Uh, let me try this trick again.

Take a card.

Is it?

I'm afraid not.

What a shame.

Oh, well...

I'll have to keep practicing.

Madame, by your grace,

I am Gaston du Brielle,

cadet of His
Majesty's Cavaliers.

I am, Madame, a little
ill at ease at speech,

so I have here penned

a few words from my heart.

When I beheld the
fragrance of your face,

saw the stars shining
from your eyes...

felt the caress of
your sweet breath,

and thus, my
angel, plead I this,

enchant your servant with...

a kiss.

Oh.

It's beautiful.

Oh, Madame...

if you would grant
me the opportunity,

I could perhaps reveal
all my heart contained.

Well, where do you suggest?

In the courtyard yonder

in one hour.

Oh.

I think that my
fantasy is going to be...

just wonderful.

Thank you, Mr. Roarke,

wherever you are.

Thank you, ladies and
gentlemen. Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you.

Uh... I'm not exactly
sure what's in here.

Um... I haven't had a
chance to check it all out.

Let's see.

It's very pretty.

What's this?

What's this?

"To bring forth
ye clever beasts."

Well, let's try it.

Master, I'm your slave, Suva.

Tell me, what is your desire?

Uh...

Uh, um... I'm afraid,
what I really need

is for you to disappear.

See, well, I, uh...

I'm not sure where
the formula is.

Um, would you excuse
me just a moment, okay?

Pardon me.

Mr. Roarke,

this is wonderful, I know,
but what would I do now?

Surely, the book instructs you.

I warned you to
study well, Mr. Potter.

Now it appears that you
are personally responsible

for one chimpanzee and
one very attractive young lady.

I wish you every success.

My lady.

When I beheld the
fragrance of your face,

saw the stars
shining in your eyes,

felt the caress of
your sweet breath,

and thus, my
angel, plead I this,

enchant thy servant with a kiss.

The same tune.

The same lyrics.

That phony.

It seems I owe you
an apology, Madame.

Who are you?

The miscreant who
sold that lad the poem.

And several others.

A man must eat.

And drink, apparently.

I see you know my frailty.

We yearn for love,
and when disappointed,

slake our thirst
with lesser faiths.

Hey. Wait a minute.

I know that phrase.

It was written by...

Cyrano de Bergerac,

at your service.

Cyrano?

Why at school, I read every poem

that you published.

My words in school? Hmm.

It's a long story.

I know it's not
very ladylike, but...

I'd like to get to know
you better, much better.

Madame, your beauty
is indeed overwhelming,

and you honor me,
but I am full of fear.

- Roxanne.
- Oh, you've heard.

Yes. She, who languished
in a nunnery, mourning,

mistakenly believing me dead.

My adoration for
her was all the love

that this poor frame could bear

in one short lifetime.

What do you say, Loban?

Would that lady yonder
provide enduring entertainment

on the rack,

or would you favor the
kiss of a thousand knives?

Why not both, my lord?

The time looks
propitious for me to...

pluck that little dove.

You know, only one
thing really worries me.

Years from now, when
people ask me how we met,

what'll I say?

Just tell them it was
a magic moment.

Sabrina.

Naughty girl.

Now, you get up there. Go on.

Suva, she is a lovely
chimp and everything,

but I can't possibly take her
back to Cleveland with me.

Well then, how
will you arrange it?

I mean, Sabrina and I,

we've always gone
together, you know.

I don’t know.

But I do know

I'm not gonna leave
Fantasy Island without you.

Hey, wait a minute.
I've got an idea.

If I could make
Sabrina disappear,

well, that would
solve everything

because that would
leave just you and me.

- I don’t know, Tim.
- Don’t worry.

Here it is, the spell.

"To bring forth
ye clever beast."

Maybe if I... if I said the
incantation backwards,

she'll disappear.

I'm scared.

There's nothing to be scared of.

I've figured it
all out. It'll work.

Here we go. Or rather,
here you go, Sabrina.

Tim, wait. Don’t do it.

Tim!

Oh, no.

Suva!

No! Come back!

Suva! Suva!

Mademoiselle,

I am clumsy with words,

and a self-confessed
liar in the game of love.

But I beseech you, hear my case.

Take off, will you?

Take off what, Madame?

My hat is here in my
hand, and my sword...

Without it, I would be naked.

Get lost. Split.

Can't you see that I
have problems of my own?

Mademoiselle, I beg you...

Does this jackanapes
disturb you, Mademoiselle?

If you continue to
importune the lady,

you will have me
to deal with, puppy.

My apologies, Mademoiselle.

Thank you, Monsieur,
but why did he run?

He knows better than
the to incur the wrath

of the foremost swordsman
of France, Mademoiselle.

Would you do me the honor

of accompanying
me to my shelter?

I'll get my cloak.

Innkeeper, my cloak.

- I must warn you, Mademoiselle.
- Mister...

That man is evil.

He has killed more
than a hundred men

in as many duels.

Isn't that why I came here,

to have men fight over me?

He's invited me to
his chateau for a visit.

You know this man, friar?

The Marquis Phillippe de Sade.

An evil man, like
you told the lady.

More than you can
guess, my friend.

He will sire a line
which will produce

the most infamous
name in French history,

and give rise to a new word

describing cruelty.

I don’t know where Suva
came from, Mr. Roarke,

but I'll tell you, in
just a couple of hours,

that girl changed my life.

Many fortunate men have had
that exciting experience, Mr. Potter.

-Exciting? -Yes.

Mr. Roarke, this
isn’t just excitement.

Oh?

No, uh, I... well...

I think I love Suva.

Well, then you must use your
magical powers, Mr. Potter.

This is your fantasy.
You must find a way.

- I lack the finesse.
- Oh. No. No.

You have not
really given yourself

the chance to find that out.

You attempted too
much, too soon. That’s all.

You did warn me, didn’t you?

-I just got carried away. -Yes.

And I now suggest
that I arrange for you

to give another performance.

Perhaps if we duplicate
exactly, exactly,

the conditions
of the first show,

you will be able to
make the young lady

appear again tonight.

Well, then, it would
have to be on the stage.

And maybe the
audience is important too.

Oh, indeed. But do your
homework, Mr. Potter.

Plan. Memorize, huh?

I promise I will, Mr. Roarke.

And tonight on that
stage, I'll bring Suva back.

I will make it happen.

Good. Good.

What cause have you
to complain, horse?

What about me?

Me, the spinner of golden
words and weaver of dreams,

sleeping on straw

and eating from garbage piles...

without even a lock on my door.

We have come for our money,

you pernicious fabricator.

You sold us both the same song.

Have you no comment?

Your unseemly entrance
caused me to nick my face.

I will nick more than that.

En garde.

I have no money,

and I am without a sword.

Then fight with your nose,

you craven poltroon.

It outspans my rapier
by at least a foot.

Gaston, the lady Marjorie
has been seen entering

the chateau of the
Marquis de Sade.

Oh, that monster.

He will butcher
her, inch by inch.

By our oath of chivalry,

we must rescue her
from his evil pleasure.

Ah. Death to the Marquis.

- Onward! Forward!
- Death to the Marquis de Sade.

They have about as much
hope of defeating de Sade

and rescuing that girl

as you have of winning
the two-kilometer dash

at Reims.

Marjorie showed me much respect.

She knew of my poor scribbling.

She professed her love.

Seems we have been summoned
from retirement, old friend.

Sabrina, please don't do
that. I'm trying to learn my lines.

Brochure said no pets.

He's got an ape in there.

It's part of his
act. It's different.

I mean...

he's an artiste.

"Formula for further
transformations."

Maybe that'll do it.

"North weed and birch,
bright bloom of bracken.

North weed and birch. Shazam."

Oh!

Miriam!

- No, no, no!
- What have you...

Listen, there's no
reason to be frightened.

-Don't... -It was a mistake!

- Touch me!
- I was just practicing.

Oh, you... Help!

Hi.

- Help!
- This is not what it looks like

at all. -

I don’t know how you did it,

but I'm going to break
your magic wand.

Wait, wait, wait, wait,
wait. Get away from me.

Call off your pet.

I'm awfully sorry,
but why should I?

Even the sword of
the Marquis de Sade

will not prevail
against the three of us.

-Right? -Right.

Right.

Death to the monster de Sade.

En garde.

Next time, I shall
kill the lot of you.

Forgive the interruption.

Some unwelcome visitors.

The venison is
not to your liking?

Well, I, uh... I guess
I'm just not hungry.

Then try a little
of this Burgundy...

from my own vineyard.

Exquisite, is it not?

Oh, it's marvelous.

Wine is truly the
ambrosia of the gods.

It gives us great pleasure.

But there are
many other delights

we humans are
privileged to enjoy.

Killing a hated enemy,

loving a beautiful woman,

giving and receiving pain.

Pain?

The rarest form of pleasure.

Soon to be all the
fashion in Paris.

The exaltation that
comes with surrender to it...

is an extreme of bliss,

an ultimate of passion.

How thoughtless of me.

You are weary.

Loban will escort you
to your chamber to rest.

Oh, I... I'd rather
return to the inn, please.

Alas, the roads
are too dangerous

for a high-born lady.

We shall continue
this discussion later,

but I will show you

what unseen delights await you.

Ladies and gentlemen,

those of you who saw
my first performance

will recall that I made
a young lady appear

out of nowhere.

Thank you.

Unfortunately, she's lost again.

Her name is Suva.

I'm going to try to
make her reappear

in exactly the same way
as I made her appear before.

Everything will be the same.

Can you help me do that?

Thank you.

Thank you.

Suva, come to me.

I can't.

Tim, help me.

Hold on, Suva. Don't let go.

I can't help it.

I love you, Tim.

I'll always love you.

Goodbye.

Mr. Roarke, I lost her forever.

Forgive this intrusion,
Mademoiselle.

- I come as a friend.
- How did you get here?

In the old days, I
was a frequent guest

of the Marquis' father,
a most honorable man,

much shamed by this
creature who bears his name.

There is a secret passageway
through which I propose

to take you to safety.

What's that?

The Marquis at sport
in the dungeons below.

Come. We must hurry.

Did you really think
you could outwit

the Marquis de Sade?

Such antics are for younger men.

Dispose of him...

in some suitable fashion.

And take the lady to
my palace of pleasures.

So much for life.

Is that it?

Are you going to accept
death just like that?

I always thought that
you were a man of honor.

Challenge him to a duel.

You wish me to do battle at
my age and in my condition?

I wish you to display a
sense of chivalry, Monsieur.

My lord.

When I was a
guest of your father,

a blessed memory,
he confided in me

his deep despair
for your future.

He feared your
mother's indulgence

had softened your masculinity

beyond the point of recovery
so that you would be forced

to spend your life testing it.

Honor demands you
pay for those words

on the point of my sword.

Prepare him for combat.

We shall deal with the woman
when I have impaled him

like the squealing pig he is.

You were wonderful.

The pleasure will
be all his, I fear.

Suva, can you hear me?

I don't know where you are.

I'm not even sure what you are.

But I know you're out there.

And I know I love you.

And I don't wanna
stay here without you.

So maybe if you
can't come to me,

maybe I can come to you.

I'm gonna try and
make myself disappear

exactly the same way
I made you disappear

in the bungalow.

It'll be my last trick...

I hope, my best one ever.

If it works,

maybe I'll be out
there where you are...

wherever that is.

Sabrina, please don't do that.

Stop it. -ROARKE: No.

Let her, Mr. Potter.

Let Sabrina turn the page.

All right.

Go ahead.

Read it, Mr. Potter.

Suva!

I fear you have picked a
poor champion, Mademoiselle.

A thousand gallons
of Rhenish wine

have created this monument.

I cannot expect to
disperse them in a moment.

You make me feel so proud.

Oh.

Risking your life for me.

Come to chide again, brother,

or to say my last rights?

On the contrary, I come to
comfort and encourage you.

It would take new eyes

and a fresh apparatus
of muscles to do that.

Victory comes not only
from strength and skill,

but from a man's mind.

If he thinks he's going to lose,

be sure he will.

Think about that.

You realize I have no
control over the outcome.

You mean, he might lose?

In this age, "lose" is
another word for "die."

Chivalry is a beautiful
concept, Ms. Denton,

until you're on
its cutting edge.

But it's only a
fantasy, Mr. Roarke.

Can't you do something?

Alas, once a
fantasy is underway,

it's out of my hands.

But have faith in
yourself, Ms. Denton.

And in your love.

Love is the overwhelming
force of the universe.

It transcends all barriers
and overcomes all obstacles.

It is time.

En garde.

A younger man would
have had me then.

First blood.

When I tire of
this mild pleasure,

when I've killed this clod,

I have the most...

exquisite pleasures in
mind for you, my dear.

Why not fight on with your nose?

It's long enough.

If a man thinks
he's going to lose,

he surely will. -

Long enough?

Your command of
language is as feeble

as your swordsmanship!

And now this nose is a pier

stretching into the
ocean of infinity,

a noble spire
worthy of divinity.

And taunts are thrown
like a Grecian discus

by foolish fobs
with less proboscis.

He who disparages his nose

plants seeds of his destruction.

This exalted beak
presents a warning:

a key factor of eternal torment.

But your blade,
'tis time to flee.

He who offends the snout,

he insults me...

and at his peril.

You're not worth
soiling my blade,

you miserable
perverted popinjay.

Oh, you were magnificent.
You were marvelous.

It was something that monk said

about the power of thinking.

Your courage and...

My love.

My darling.

Ms. Denton,

you must come with me now.

Your fantasy is over.

Oh, no. No, please.

Let us spend just
a little time together.

I'm sorry.

One kiss, and I'm in love

with a charming, brave,

and wonderful ghost.

Mr. Roarke, uh...

I know I don't have
any right to ask you this,

but please, don't
separate us again.

But the young lady was
only a part of your fantasy,

Mr. Potter, which is now over.

Julie.

Sorry, Mr. Potter, but...

rules are rules.

You must now make
her disappear once more.

For the last time.

I understand what must be done.

Goodbye, Tim.

Read it, Mr. Potter. Read it.

Well, she's gone.

Ah, but the difference
is, she has gone...

to Cleveland, Mr. Potter.

To Cleveland?

That's right.

She'll be waiting for
you when you get home.

Mr. Roarke, what can I say?

No more spells, Mr. Potter.

From now on
stick to conjuring...

Thank you... and
card tricks, huh?

Thank you.

- You're very welcome.
- Thank you.

Very welcome, Mr. Potter.

-Julie. -Goodbye.

You don't seem
happy, Ms. Denton.

Didn't you enjoy your fantasy?

It was what I asked, but, oh,

I would have liked to
have known Cyrano better.

He was everything in the
world I wanted in a man.

I see.

Unfortunately, your
request didn't specify

a lasting relationship.

Well, at least I
got to know him.

It's something
that I'll treasure

for the rest of my life.

Thank you, Mr. Roarke.

Before you go, may I introduce
Monsieur Berandt Sabatier,

a college professor
who loves Cyrano's work

as much as you,

and wanted to
relive his last days.

- You're...
- Appearances are sometimes

deceptive, Ms. Denton,

but trust your heart.

The nose went with the role.

Do you mind?

It wouldn't have
made any difference.

Thus, my angel, plead I this,

enchant thy servant with a kiss.