Original subtitles

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

Yeah, got me good right here.

Well, Henrietta, my fine-feathered darling,

what little message are you bearing?

From the look on Henrietta's face

it's probably a bill from my tailor.

We'll know soon enough.

Ah.

"From the office of Colonel Armstrong,

"commendation on a job well done.

"Proceed to layover in New Orleans

"pending further assignment.

Presidential citation to follow."

How about that?

A presidential citation.

And a layover in New Orleans,

dining � la carte at Maxine's.

Yeah.

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

By all means mention it.

I'm going to enjoy this.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Artie.

Mm-hm.

Maybe it's another citation.

Oh, our cup couldn't run over.

Disregard...

previous...

instructions...

and proceed at once

to Pawnee Indian reservation,

Crater, Oklahoma.

Top-secret classification.

Contact Colonel Stanton Mayo.

Well,

there goes our pleasant little layover in New Orleans.

Whoa.

I like nothing better than a brisk ride

in the morning.

The president of the United States

didn't send me here for exercise.

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

You're quite right, Mr. West.

You've been very patient.

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

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

But I am Colonel Stanton Mayo, Territorial Indian Commissioner.

Highly respected, solid,

foursquare, both feet on the ground.

But, Mr. West,

I am no coward.

Yet recently, I've been wrestling

and trying to come to terms with things

that have made me doubt my own sanity.

Things that just don't belong.

Things that-

Like that.

What's that?

A maharajah's palace?

Ridiculous.

And what really is so ridiculous about it?

About what?

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

And I'm Napoleon.

I beg your pardon.

I'm registering disbelief, Rapunzel.

My name is Veda.

Why don't you believe me?

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

I am.

My father is the maharajah of Karapur.

Ah, I'm sorry I brought it up.

But since we emigrated

to the United States of Northern America,

he prefers to be known simply as Mr. Singh.

A very democratic gesture.

Are you all right, Mr. West?

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

A cobra.

Shouldn't I be dead?

You should.

But Mudjaz is very clever about cobra bites.

Charming little fella,

I didn't recognize him without his flute.

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

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

You might have thanked him.

For what?

For saving your life.

He could have saved himself a lot of trouble

if he hadn't zigged that cobra on me

in the first place.

Which reminds me, Colonel Mayo?

Slightly wounded,

but recovering very nicely, I am happy to say.

My revered father, Mr. Singh.

Why am I here, Mr. Singh?

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

That touches me deeply.

Almost as deeply as your welcoming committee

tried to with their lances.

Oh, those blundering idiots.

But there, I don't have to tell you

what a trial servants can be, huh?

Uh, Veda, tell your baby brothers

that Mr. West is awake.

Change that.

Mr. West is going.

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

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

Where is he?

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

Oh, dear.

Are you sure there's nothing I can do

to make you change your mind?

Positive.

This is Gupta.

Chandra.

Sarrkan, the baby.

Don't tell me

that these splendid-looking young men are your sons?

Quite true, quite true.

The jewels of my heart's treasury.

Eh, boys, this is the famous James West

you've heard so much about.

It occurs to me that it would be downright rude

to leave without a little chat.

What's going on here?

There must be some explanation, I suppose.

Oh, there is.

And I will give it to you without further equivocation.

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

A fine native wine with an extraordinary bouquet.

Just the explanation, if you please.

As you wish.

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

and tutor these fledglings of mine.

I see. Any particular subject?

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

Surely you must be aware

that your reputation has preceded you?

Has it?

What is my reputation?

Oh, an admirable one.

You have a talent I-

I might almost say a genius for survival.

Oh, you're flattering, Mr. Singh.

But survival embraces so many areas.

And many so dull.

Quite true, quite true.

Begging for mercy, hiding, running away.

In none of which my boys are interested.

Which effectively narrows it down to the one area

in which they are interested.

The gentle art of killing.

Cashmere dew you say?

I believe I will try it.

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

crude proficiency of their own.

Just confirmed my private hunch, Mr. Singh.

Cangue.

The crate.

Fondly called the lingering embrace in our circle.

Had Gupta aimed a little higher,

your neck would have been instantly snapped.

The charmed circle you talked about,

what is it?

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

of which I am the temporal and spiritual head.

As for tutoring your boys,

isn't that a case of coals to Newcastle?

Oh, not at all, Mr. West.

Since we are newcomers to your splendid land

of free enterprise,

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

the Western folkways of sudden extinction.

You do see that, don't you?

Oh, when you put it that way, yes.

Ah, then you will tutor them.

No.

Oh, these boys.

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

Oh, how can you refuse them?

Perhaps the well has gone dry, Papa.

Boys, a shame.

Just for that, I give you permission

to chastise them, Mr. West.

They're youthful and high spirited.

I am perfectly willing to overlook

the whole matter, Mr. Singh.

Oh, no, no, no.

I wouldn't think of taking advantage

of your generosity.

They deserve a good lesson.

Boys, pay attention and learn something.

All right, boys.

Class is called to order. Lesson number one.

You should always keep your opponent...

off balance!

Oh, well done, sir.

Remember those words of wisdom, children.

Lesson number two, show your weapons, improvise.

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

Lesson number three?

Rosebud.

Rosebud?

It's a box of matches.

Of course.

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

He's bluffing.

Possibly. Or maybe this innocent little box contains-

What?

X-51.

Oh, ripping, Mr. West. Ripping.

One of those ultra, ultra weapons your chaps

are always so keen on developing, huh?

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

At the slightest jar, it's detonated.

Capable of destruction,

disintegration.

I still think you're bluffing.

Be still, brother.

What do you intend doing, Mr. West?

I have an insane urge

to end this whole dreary charade.

By throwing rosebud.

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

That would be silly, wouldn't it?

Very silly, sir.

Oh, yes. Yes, sir.

Very silly.

They are matches!

By George, you're right!

This way, Mr. West.

What do you have in mind, Rapunzel?

You wish your freedom, do you not?

That's an attractive notion, yes.

Then if you follow me-

First, let's find Colonel Mayo.

Forget him.

We shall need enormous quantities of luck

just to manage your escape.

All right, I'll find him myself.

Not that door.

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

Very well.

I'll take you to your precious Colonel Mayo.

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

You just stand back. I'll fix it.

Colonel Mayo.

Is that you, West?

Is it really you?

What have they done to you?

You see?

You forgot again.

The king moves in both directions.

Forwards and backwards.

Remember that.

All right, sir.

I'm very grateful that you take all the trouble

to teach me Parcheesi.

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

The name of this game is not Parcheesi,

it's checkers.

Checkers.

It's your move.

Yes, Mr. Gordon, sir.

Another game and another quarter bet,

Mr. Gordon, sir?

No, thank you very much, John.

Oh, where the devil are they?!

Never mind.

Maybe perhaps you win next game.

And for the last time, John,

if I seem a little bit irritated,

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

Three, was it not?

All right, three.

Point is that Mr. West and Colonel Mayo

have been gone all day long.

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

waiting for them to show up.

All right for me to have an idea, sir?

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

I don't care what odds you offer.

Not about checkers, the colonel's horses.

You want I should saddle one up for you to take

a brisk invigorating ride?

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

in wide open spaces

to last me for the rest of my life.

You know anything interesting around this neck of the woods?

There is...

haunted castle.

I don't want-

What?

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

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

they claim it to be haunted.

Claim what to be haunted?

The castle near Box Canyon, sir.

A castle out here?

Whose?

What's it look like?

I have not seen it.

Colonel Mayo warned us to stay away.

But the few Indians who did venture near it-

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

Oh, no, sir.

Just severely frightened by the weird sounds

and the terrible smells.

But of course, these are ignorant superstitious Indians

who do not have proper schooling like me.

I see.

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

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

All right, sir.

To the jolly old castle.

Oh, no, sir.

It is haunted.

I was having a dream.

A pleasant one we hope.

No, a silly one.

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

How nice to find instead you are in the midst

of your admiring pupils, Mr. West.

Ah, yes, it's a comfort.

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

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

Oh, for me? You shouldn't have.

What is it?

Should we tell him brothers?

No.

Let it come as a delightful surprise,

I say.

Last time I saw a basket like that

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

A perfect set.

You've thought of everything.

Oh, for you we could do no less.

Come brothers, we mustn't

wear out our welcome with Mr. West.

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

I'm just hanging around.

We must go, Mr. West.

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

Yes, to entertain you with his music.

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

By the way, Mr. West,

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

from that clever pocket in the back of your coat.

And this ring of yours

with the amazingly sharp diamond edge.

You might have cut yourself with it.

Or the ropes maybe?

Psst.

Mudjaz.

You understand English?

Oh, yes, sahib.

Oh, fine.

Then don't bother playing on my account.

Sahib, you do not want?

Oh, it's, uh, nothing personal,

but one long moment of uninterrupted silence

is what I really want.

You savvy?

Oh, yes, sahib.

Mudjaz.

Why are you breathing so hard?

It's the intoxicating nearness of you, Rapunzel.

An idiotic name, who is Rapunzel?

A storybook character.

And like you, she had long golden hair.

My hair is quite dark.

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

whether to play the role of savior or killer.

I never tried to kill you.

No?

Then that was a prize-winning imitation

you put on awhile back with the blow dart.

Really, Mr. West,

you can be surprisingly dense.

Did it never occur to you

that by drugging you I saved your life?

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

My dear brothers were due to arrive

on the scene at any moment.

After the way you'd knocked them about

and humiliated them,

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

if you hadn't been already unconscious?

Probably cut my throat.

Exactly.

So at least I delayed that for a while.

And don't call me Rapunzel.

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

I guess this is just one of those difficult days

when everything seems to go wrong.

For instance,

I could have sworn a flock of cobras

were gonna make their debut out of that basket.

My quaint brother's idea of a lark.

Mudjaz told me, so I arranged to substitute myself.

In my opinion, that's a definite improvement.

What now?

I've devised a plan for your escape.

I'm interested, go on.

The palace guards will be back shortly

and unlock the cell door.

Mudjaz would be here to supervise

the removal of the basket of cobras,

if you know what I mean.

You expect me to get into that basket?

I will be in the basket.

And where will I be?

Here, waiting to be brought back

before my father.

I've got a better idea.

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

Palace guards would cut you down immediately.

Please, trust me, Mr. West.

What do you have in mind?

I want you to put yourself completely in my hands.

I think that could be arranged.

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

Is he?

Oh, yes.

So much so that I know

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

You mean, you and me?

And that would be a fate worse than death?

Mr. West, that would be death.

Are you familiar

with the old Indian burial custom called suttee?

Uh, roughly.

It's the old system where the wife

is incinerated on a funeral pyre

along with the deceased husband's remains.

Which I always thought was carrying togetherness

a little too far.

Exactly.

So if we were married,

considering the hazards of your profession,

you'd give me a very limited life expectancy.

I never realized what a liability I was.

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

I- I understand.

You know, you are not altogether unattractive.

Oh...

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

Oh, no.

In fact, I've even toyed with the idea

that it might be rather pleasant to kiss you.

We'll never know, will we?

No.

Such a pity.

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

Mr. Gordon, sir,

please tell me about man once more.

Would it help you feel any better?

All right, John Mountain-Top.

What is man?

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

Right. Why?

Because every time something new arrives

which frightens him,

it is easier to invent an evil spirit

who is responsible for some kind of nonsense.

Then he doesn't have to think or reason.

All he has to do is be afraid.

Right. Is all that clear?

Yes, sir.

Because you explained so beautiful.

Oh, not at all.

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

It's clear because you're no longer

being panicked into believing

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

is haunted or any other such nonsense.

Are we on the right road, John?

John?

Come back here,

you superstitious little idiot!

You are Mr. Artemus Gordon?

I am?

Aren't you?

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

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

Forgive me.

Oh.

Well, thank you very much.

You are a friend and associate of Mr. West?

Yes, I am. What about it?

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

Uh, what about my horse?

We'll send for him later.

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

What'd you say your name was?

You can call me Rapunzel.

Where is Mr. West?

He's, uh, resting, Papa.

Resting? But I sent those idiot guards for him.

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

That's true, Papa.

But perhaps Mr. West is indisposed.

Nonsense.

He always struck me as the kind of man

who refused to be indisposed.

Well, don't sit there, fetch him.

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

More fun and games, Mr. Singh?

Mm, as you see, Mr. West,

our great concern is for your entertainment.

Oh, you're succeeding magnificently.

For instance, the lovely surprise

your boys provided me in the basket.

You liked it?

Liked it?

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

Our boys have high spirits but hearts of purest gold.

Mmm.

This absurd ape begins to weary me.

One of the unique national treasures

that India has given the world.

The rope trick.

Are you acquainted with this little exercise in magic,

Mr. West?

Magic?

I always believed it was done with mirrors

or mass hypnotism.

A thousand year pardon, sahib.

You are a nonbeliever?

Well, let's just say a doubter.

If I may be permitted to demonstrate.

Therefore,

I call upon and invoke the powers

of the four secret corners of the domain of the crest

and the power of the north.

The power of the east,

of the south,

of the west.

The powers of darkness

are reaching for you.

Extend yourself to meet them.

Siddha!

I, Variabus,

I, Optimus,

I, Baligos,

I, Artemus-

Grab, Jim!

Follow me.

Cute performance, Artie.

I suppose you used the fine wires with the rope.

Us magicians never reveal the secrets of our trade.

Wait here for me.

All right.

Whatever you do, don't go in there.

There's a tiger in there.

Oh...

There's a tiger in there.

No.

We must hurry.

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

Well, maybe second best.

Now you take care of Rapunzel

with the long golden hair.

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

Let me have your gun.

Hey, no, wait a minute.

You're not going back up there without me.

Don't argue with me.

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

Your gun, please.

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

What position do I play?

You're the goal!

This game is beginning to bore me.

Perhaps we can change it, Mr. West.

We'll let Mr. West be the ball.

Ah, Mr. West,

a man with a mission.

Which involves a question that I want answered.

Where is Colonel Mayo?

You know, suddenly I have an idea

that you're going to win after all.

I don't have time to indulge your ramblings.

I said, "Where is Colonel Mayo?"

Are you threatening me?

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

Not too old to die.

Oh, come now.

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

And besides, Mr. West,

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

That can be a very serious handicap

when you're dealing with people who have.

Like you, colonel.

Like me.

Don't do anything foolish

or I shall be forced to demonstrate.

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

No. Very pressing business.

Get rid of these clowns.

Colonel Mayo is right.

Run along, boys, and leave us.

No, Papa.

Not till we have settled with Mr. West.

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

But, Papa-

Not another word, sir. Go.

You gentlemen, uh, flimflammed me very nicely.

Do you mind telling me why?

Our gracious host's idea.

And not a good one as it turned out.

You see, it seemed reasonable to me

that if you saw firsthand evidence

of how, uh, persuasive

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

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

Oh, dear, no, quite the contrary.

Although of course,

Veda had no idea of how helpful she was being.

And now you're going to tell me

what you mean by cooperative, aren't you?

Let's take the case

of the hypothetical Indian Territorial Commissioner.

Administrator of the welfare

of a few thousand Pawnee Indians,

who are living out their lives on a hundred square miles

of worthless rock, scrub and desert.

And then something happens.

Can you guess what, Mr. West?

The hypothetical commissioner discovers

that the worthless rock,

scrub and desert is no longer worthless.

A pleasure to converse with you, sir.

The legal boundaries of the Pawnee reservation

have not been fixed as yet.

It remains for them to decide whether to stay on here

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

Problem?

The Pawnees have formed an attachment for the land,

as Pawnees will.

Precisely.

And despite all the urgings of the hypothetical commissioner,

they refuse to leave.

All is lost?

Not quite.

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

To a man they deeply respect and trust,

a certain James West.

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

Not by swindling them.

And yet, Mr. West,

the colonel and I are relying upon you

to persuade the Pawnees to leave this tract of land

and move on to another.

Do you really think I will?

I think you can be persuaded to, yes.

Not just to save yourself pain.

There's also Artemus Gordon to think of.

And Veda.

Veda?

What do you mean?

Quiet, old man.

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

I sent Artemus and the girl away.

Did you?

Guards!

Sorry, Jim, they had too big a reception committee

waiting for us.

Guards, what is the meaning of this?

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

They're mercenaries for sale to any buyer.

I've outbid you.

Be prudent, Mr. West.

It must be quite a treasure you're sitting on

to kill your partner.

It is, Mr. West. It is.

And I am going to show it to you.

Guards.

Tie him up.

We're in the underbelly of the palace.

And there's my treasury.

Imagine that, oil.

Yes, oil.

oozing, rising, bursting out of the ground.

All of which belonged to Mr. Singh originally.

Yes, he discovered it

while he was building this stately pleasure dome.

He brought it to my attention and we became partners.

A partnership so recently dissolved.

Pity, isn't it?

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

about the report he gave me.

Do you know how far this extends?

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

This is not just an oil well, gentlemen.

It's an outcropping of a vast ocean of oil

that extends for a hundred square miles around.

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

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

and they're not going to.

The geologist does.

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

You can.

If the geologist had an unfortunate fatal accident

right after submitting his report to me.

I can't stop now, Mr. West.

I don't care how you do it.

But I want you to employ all your talents

to get the Pawnees to move on.

And if I fail?

Then I shall be forced to prescribe

a course of treatments for Veda.

Two Sikh mercenaries have gone to join their ancestors.

I expedited their departure.

And now, you, Colonel Mayo-

Agh!

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

Help me!

Oh, West!

For the love of-

It's a fitting burial ground, huh?

For him.

"To reciprocate in some way

"for the wonderful kindness you both showed me

"while I was in America.

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

Did you want any help with that, Jim?

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

Right.

Uh, where was I? Oh.

"So, dear Jim and Artemus,

"until my next visit to your lovely country.

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

"typical of India as nothing else is,

"the Indian leopard.

I hope that you both-"

A leopard?

She sent a leopard.

I know, Artie. I can see that.

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

Stand back, you fool!

Jim!

Artie.

When are you going to stop being so emotional?

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

Oh, great.

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

There's a nice girl.

Jim?

You better make that two saucers of milk.