All language subtitles for the_wild_wild_west_s04e20_the_diva

You stupid!

Look what you're doing!

Be careful, you clod. What is the matter
with you?

I found more civilization crossing the
Gobi Desert.

My only pleasure in arriving at this
misbegotten village is to be rid of you.

No one has insulted Rosa Montemelo as
you have. No one, you hear? No one!

To the stupid, dull, ignorant women of
your country, you may be a gentleman,

to me you are nothing but a farmer, a
besante, a clod.

Ay, mascazzone, questi fragili.

Well, what are you standing there for,
fool? Help them.

Do not think you have heard the end of
this. The whole world will know how you

have treated Rosa Montebello.

Right.

Amen.

Here, a word you're saying. Hold on.

Now what?

I was saying you look great yourself.

Oh, I don't know how that could be. I
tell you, I feel as though I've spent

last four days inside a bass drum with
ten men pounding on it.

Artie, who was that woman?

Oh, that was no woman. That was Rosa
Montebello.

That sounds familiar.

Yeah, opera.

Well, of course.

The famous Italian diva.

That's the one.

Oh, what's she doing in your car?

You'd better help yourself to a little
wine. I tell you, this is a long story.

First of all,

La Bella Montebello happens to be the
niece of the minister from Italy.

In the second place, President Grant
found out that you were gracious enough

send the car up, pick me up in
Washington, deliver me down here to New

And in the third place, by happy
coincidence, Miss Montebello happened to

booked to sing in New Orleans. So,
naturally, the president suggested that

might be a very nice gesture of mine.

if I just kind of gave her a ride down
here. Of course, I agreed.

James, from the minute that woman set
foot on this car, life has been absolute

purgatory.

The food wasn't good. The train was too
noisy.

The wine was too cold. The wine wasn't
cold enough. She did nothing but scold,

complain, scream, yell, nag, nag, nag.

I may have nightmares about her for as
long as I live.

All righty. At least you're rid of her
now.

Oh, I wish that were true.

You mean you're not rid of her? The
president suggested that in view of the

delicate negotiations between Washington
and Italy, it might be a very nice

thing on my part if I would act as
official escort to Miss Montebello

three days down here in New Orleans. And
I have to start tonight taking her to

the opera house for her performance in
Lucia de la Mamour.

Arriving at this miserable village.

My luggage has gone all ahead.

The carriage is late. So that is Rosa
Montebello.

Is everything ready at the opera house
for tonight?

Yes.

Very well. I've seen enough.

Oh, and then there was this daughter of
this congressman from Arkansas. From

Arkansas. Oh, I learned a great deal
from her about Arkansas.

It's a very progressive state.

You have no idea.

Excuse me.

Yes? I have a letter for Mr. Artemus
Gordon from Governor Turnbull's office.

Will you sign for me?

Yeah, sure.

Thank you, Jim.

I don't know what the governor wants.

My dear Mr. Gordon, I have just learned
of your arrival in New Orleans, and Mrs.

Turnbull and I would consider it a great
honor if you would attend a small

dinner party in honor of our daughter
Nancy, to whom you were so kind during

recent visit to Washington. We will look
forward to seeing you at the executive

mansion at 8 o 'clock.

What's the matter, Arnie?

The dinner's tonight.

Oh, that's too bad, Arnie.

Here, I have to give up a dinner with
Nancy Turnbull at the executive mansion

order to escort Rosa Montebello to the
Grand Opera, and all you can say is

that's too bad.

Oh, you're a real pal. Thank you.

That's too much.

I'm as patriotic as the next man, but
there are some sacrifices that nobody

should be asked to make for his country.
This is rubbing salt in my wounds.

Arnie.

Why don't I take Miss Monabella to the
opera in your place tonight?

Hey, do you mean that?

You really mean you'd beard that female
Genghis Khan in her own den after you've

seen... Boy, you really are a pal.

There's just one thing.

I mean, what if the president finds out,
you know, after he told me specifically

to look after her? Artie, I don't think
the president would want you to risk

insulting the governor of Louisiana,
either, do you?

You're right.

You're absolutely right.

Oh, what can I say? What can anyone say
at a time like this? You are a brave

man, James, and a true blue friend. And
I'll never forget you for this. Never,

never. Artie, I'd better dress before
you have me in tears.

James, you are a truly great man.

and come down. The performance is over,
Signorina.

ring. What about the ring?

All

right,

Colonel. Nice to see you. Come on, Jim.

You're looking for Artie. He's on his
way to see Miss Montabella to tell her

she's still in protective custody.

I don't envy him that job.

Oh, on this ring you gave me.

There is a code on the inside band. It's
in Italian.

Ordina di Lucia.

Ordo Lucia.

Lucia, that's the role that Rosa
Montabella sang last night.

Come in.

Oh, Miss Collingwood, come in, come in.

Miss Collingwood is the...

secretary to the chief of our bureau
here in New Orleans.

This is Jim West, Miss Collingwood.

It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss
Collingwood. Thank you.

The local police have finally identified
the man who was killed last night. He

was Pierre Deluc.

He's been employed at the Opera House
for years.

He's in charge of wardrobe and fills in
as a supernumerary when needed.

Anything else?

Nothing. No home address, no friends or
relatives.

Then all we know about him is that he
was a member of the Order of Lucia here

New Orleans.

The Order of Lucia?

That's strange.

What's strange?

Well, something has happened to every
diva who sang Lucia di Lammermoor at

theater in the last five years.

Specifically?

Well, there have been three. Two have
disappeared.

Disappeared? Vanished completely without
a trace.

And now the attempt to kidnap Rosa
Montebello.

Anyway, a lot of people believe that the
opera house is haunted.

By the ghost of the missing divas. A
ridiculous superstition, of course.

Of course.

Peter DeLuca's apparently a member of
that order.

Do you know where we can find any other
members?

Yes, you could try the club music on
Royal Street.

It's sort of a gathering place for
singers.

Better head over there, Colonel. Would
you have Artie meet me there, please?

Uh, Jim, I'm afraid you'll have to do
without Artie.

President Grant made it quite clear that
he wants Artie to escort the great

Montebello personally.

So? Well, there's a reception being
given in her honor tonight.

A reception being given by someone named
Crenshaw.

At Willow Manor? The Crenshaw brothers?

Well, yes, that's right. Why?

I don't know.

Just some strange rumors about one of
them. About one of the brothers.

Do you think it's safe to let her
attend?

I think New Orleans would be declared a
disaster area if we tried to keep her

away.

Well, from what I've heard about Miss
Montebello's feelings towards the Secret

Service in general...

And Mr. Gordon in particular.

He may save New Orleans, but what about
himself?

Well, I don't think you have anything to
worry about.

He's indicated he has a solution.

May I present my escort, Colonel
Vladislav Draza, the Duke of Kolba, Mr.

Max Crenshaw.

An honor, sir.

Is it not a charming house, Vladislav?

Oh, yes, yes.

Yes, it reminds me of my gardener's
cottage, my estate outside of Budapest.

Although, of course, this is much
smaller.

He wants another.

Yeah, that's right.

I'd like to meet some of the members of
the Order of Lucia.

The Order of Lucia, monsieur?

I do not believe any of the gentlemen
are here this evening, monsieur.

Well, I'll wait.

Maybe one of them will come in.

Who are you, and where did you get that
ring?

Well, my name is James West, and I'm not
sure I know what ring you're talking

about.

Please, do not play games.

The ring you showed Armand.

I got that ring off a dead man's body.
He was killed at the opera house last

night.

Pierre de Luc.

You know?

He was my uncle.

All my sympathies, Miss... Angelique.

May I have the ring, Mr. West?

Why do you want it?

He was my only relative.

I'd like it as a keepsake.

Angelique, did you know that your uncle
was involved in a plot to kidnap Rosa

Montevelo?

May I have the ring, Mr. West?

Did you know about that kidnapping plot?

No.

No, not about that.

About what, then?

Only that my uncle was involved in
something wrong.

Something he didn't want to do.

He was afraid I could tell, but he
wouldn't talk about it.

We can't talk here.

Then where?

The opera house. There's no performance
tonight.

I'll meet you there at ten o 'clock. Ten
o 'clock.

Buffalo girl, won't you come out
tonight?

Come out tonight.

Come out tonight. Buffalo girl, won't
you come out tonight?

Dance by the light of the moon.

Buffalo girl, won't you come out
tonight?

Come out.

Come out.

Buffalo girl, won't you come out
tonight?

Dance by the light of the moon.

Buffalo girl, won't you come out
tonight?

Come out tonight. Come out tonight.

Buffalo gal, won't you come out tonight?

But just a short while ago, I had
occasion to be with one of the world

coloratura. And indeed, I found her to
be vain, rude, arrogant,

shrewd, and completely the opposite of
what you are, dear lady. Oh, Flati's

love. I cannot tell you how marvellous
it is to be in the company of a real

gentleman again. A gallant woman.

Those American men have the manners of
a... Forco.

Exactamento. You have not forgotten your
promise to allow me to show you the

grounds, have you, Signorina? Of course
not, Max. Why do I not get you some

champagne? Oh, that would be divine,
carino.

Oh, it is a bit warm, is it not?

All the more reason for a stroll in the
garden.

Let's jump ahead there.

Merci.

Oh, que bel giardino, signor.

Signorina, lei ha tutta la bellezza. Ma
grazie.

Oh, you have a beautiful home, signor.
Fit for a king.

But do you not have any family to enjoy
it with you? No, signorina.

Of course, there is my brother.

Your brother?

Carl.

But why have I not met him?

Is he away?

No, he's here, but he...

Well, he stays to himself a virtual
recluse.

He's only permitted myself and his man
Igor to see him since he suffered an

affliction, which... Forgive me,
Signorina. I know you'll understand if I

not to talk about it on such a happy
occasion.

Certamente.

Tell me, Signorina, I've seen you in
many of your roles, but do you not

Lucia the most difficult?

Oh, si.

I really like to sing this opera.

This room is too hot.

And the dinner you brought to me tonight
was utterly without imagination.

Where does Max find his books?

They would be better serving pigs in the
barnyard.

I tell you, the situation is getting to
be insufferable.

Why is he not here at this moment?

I'll tell you.

He is more interested in entertaining
his stuffy little provincial friends

his miserable music.

Where is he every time I need him?

Does he worry about me?

No. It's only himself that he cares
about.

The fact...

That I remain here in this room is of
absolutely no importance to him.

He doesn't think of me. Max never thinks
of me. He goes his own way.

Indulges in his own pleasures.

Isn't true, Max?

Don't tell me. Look at them down there.

Tell Max I wish to see him.

Someone in this house is spying on us.

This way.

This is where my uncle lived the last
five years of his life.

Before that, he was in the personal
entourage of Carolyn Mason.

Carolyn Mason, isn't that the candidate
that died in that fire at the Palace

Hotel in New Orleans?

Yes.

Uncle Pierre was never the same after
her death.

What did he have against Rosa
Montabella?

I don't know.

All I know is my uncle's strangeness had
something to do with this room.

In what way?

The fact that he slept here.

That he would never leave it unless he
had to.

And once I remember that... Who could
that be?

Night watchman.

There is none.

After the fracas at the opera house, I
returned to the club to find out if

anyone knew where the girl lived.

The bartender disappeared.

And no one, absolutely no one, ever
heard of a girl named Angelique.

Well, one thing we're sure of now, we
didn't even know at this time yesterday.

This whole thing pivots around a woman
who's been dead for five years.

Artie, are you sure that was a portrait
of Carolyn Mason?

Oh, absolutely, Jim. I saw Duaida in
Boston, La Traviata in Chicago, Carmen

San Francisco.

That's her portrait in the Crenshaw
home, no mistake about it.

Come

in.

Will I be drawn and quoted if I say good
morning?

You'll be drawn and quartered if that's
all you say.

532 River Street.

First floor, rear. What's this?

Angelic's address.

Artie, pour the lady some coffee.

I'm way ahead of you, Jim.

I hear you're taking Rosa Montebello to
a society bizarre this afternoon.

That's correct.

Sit down, won't you?

Mr. Gordon, if you'll excuse me for
saying so, I think you and Mr. West

forbid Miss Montebello from stepping
foot outside her hotel room until you've

found the men who tried to kidnap her.

With a bazaar in her honor, she wouldn't
listen.

But you must make her understand that
her life is in danger, that whoever

to kidnap her is undoubtedly watching
and waiting for another opportunity.

undoubtedly are, Miss Collingwood.

In fact, uh...

Miss Collingswood, that's exactly what
we're counting on.

What? Mm -hmm.

Since her would -be kidnappers are
watching her every move, I plan to set

out as a target in order to draw them
out into the open.

Mr. Gordon, you're not serious.

I most certainly am.

But don't you realize what would happen
to this country's diplomatic relations

with Italy if you were to use Miss
Montebello as a cat's... Suppose

went wrong? I know, Miss Collingwood,
I'm aware. It is very, very risky.

But I have no other way for drawing them
out into the open. I have no other

alternatives. But that's awful.

Yes.

Unless, of course, we can find someone
else in place of Miss Montebello.

Someone else?

Yes, you know, as a decoy. Sort of draw
them out and at the same time protect

her.

Of course.

How marvelous.

There's some young lady who's...

professionally accustomed to placing
herself in physical jeopardy.

Oh, that's a brilliant idea, Mr. Gordon.
An absolutely brilliant idea.

Thank you.

But where would we go to find such a
young lady?

Oh, now, wait a minute, Mr. Gordon. You
said yourself it was a brilliant idea,

Miss Collingswood. Mr. Gordon. And I
have no other alternatives. You remember

that? But, Mr. Gordon, you must remember
that my duties with the Secret Service

do not include my jeopardizing my...
Thank you, Miss Collingswood. Thank you

volunteering.

Ravishing, Pinarina, absolutely
ravishing. Grazie.

Heaven must have wanted to prove it
could achieve perfection when it put

beautiful voice in such a beautiful
woman.

Are we being followed?

Oh, no, not yet.

Maybe the fish we're after are too smart
to take the bait.

With patience, Miss Collins, with
patience.

Something wrong?

No, not a thing.

Fisher finally risen to the bait by
being kidnapped.

What's the trick is to act like we
didn't expect it.

Driver! Driver! You're going the wrong
way!

Stop this carriage!

Mr. Gordon, I have the uncomfortable
feeling that Fisher on the wrong end of

line this time. Oh, nonsense.

Everything's working out perfectly.

It is?

Yes. Everything's just fine. Believe me.

That's asking a lot under this
circumstance.

to sing Lucia.

Caroline Mason was beautiful. She was
divine.

If you had heard Caroline Mason as
Lucia, you would have gone back to doing

only thing that your voices are fit for.

Calling hogs!

They say the mad scene.

is the most difficult aria for a
coloratura in all opera.

Yet Caroline Mason sang it with beauty
and ease.

Sang it as it was never sung before.

Or... Or will ever again.

What made me think I could create
another Caroline Mason?

I was a fool to think they could ever
match a technique, a tonal quality of

Get rid of them. I don't care how.

But make sure, since they cannot sing
for me, they do

not talk to the police.

We are so glad you came.

I saw you in Lucia recently.

You were not great, but not bad.

If you had been, I would not have gone
to the trouble of having you brought

here.

Ah, these.

Oh, I don't know why I've troubled for
such a long time with these braying

jackasses.

But I shall not be as patient with you.

Come.

Signorina, look at her and pray that I
can make you the singer that she was.

For if I can't, Igor will dispose of you
along with these two frauds who

blaspheme the memory of Caroline Mason
every time they open their mouths.

Lucia was Caroline's favorite role.

She sang it over 100 times.

And she always carried this dagger in
the mad scene after she has killed her

husband.

And that is the part you shall sing for
me now.

Please, remove your veil.

I said remove your veil.

You cannot sing with a rag over your
face.

This is not Rosa Montebello, you fools.

How could you have made such a
horrendous mistake?

Get rid of her!

Max, I'm sorry.

This

time,

she is dead.

What about the hotel fire?

I was with her.

I rescued her.

It was her maid's body that was
identified as...

Caroline. And you just let it go at
that?

You had a voice, that hideous mockery of
what had once been the greatest

coloratura in the whole history of
opera.

The vocal cords were irreparably damaged
by the heat and smoke inhalation from

the fire.

He must have loved her very much.

Not nearly as much as she loved him.

She knew that without her voice, she was
but half a woman to him.

And she wanted to be whole again.

To give him back the one thing he had
loved most about her.

Her voice.

Yes.

Even if it was the voice of another.

I

can't

help thinking how stupid and unnecessary
it all was.

If Carolyn Mason could only have
accepted what happened to her voice.

But she couldn't.

Someone once said, nothing exceeds the
vanity of our existence but the folly of

our pursuits.

Oliver Goldsmith in The Good -Natured
Man, Volume 1, 1759.

Someone also once said, a thing of
beauty is a joy forever.

Oh, Monsieur West and Miss Collingwood,
how nice of you to come.

I'm sure that with you here, now every
nationality in the world is represented.

Do enjoy the buffet and mingle.

Oh, and all these people are most
charming and understanding.

So don't worry for a moment about
feeling a bit provincial, shall we say.

Do enjoy yourselves.

And, uh... Is something the matter?

I was just wondering if that Monsieur
Gordon is coming tonight.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry, but Mr. Gordon
can't attend tonight.

Oh.

Sorry.

Do enjoy yourselves.

I have wonderful news. That horrid man,
Artemis Gordon, cannot come tonight.

Oh, I'm so happy for you. Of course, I'm
terribly disappointed for myself.

You see, I have been standing here
dreaming of explicit insults to her at

villa. Indeed, I was prepared to meet
him on the field of honor.

Love is love, my love.

Don't waste one moment thinking about
the rustic American peasant.

Tonight is ours.