- Did you? - What?
Go to the shrine.
I'm sure I couldn't tell you honestly.
Uh, the events of last night are somewhat, uh, dim.
Ah.
"Plingen, plangen, auf gefangen...
swingen, swangen at my s-side."
Uh - "Swootle, pootle...
"off to Bootle.
Nemesis: A pleasant ride!"
[Laughs] I arrived in heaven!
** [Carnival]
- ** [Continues] - [Speaks Spanish]
[Spanish, Dramatic]
[Devil Babbling, Screeching]
[Screaming]
[Gasps]
[Children Laughing]
[Spanish]
[Spanish Continues]
[Spanish] Doña Inés.
- ¡Doña Inés! ¡Doña Inés! - [Children Laughing]
[Spanish]
[Spanish Continues]
** [Brass Band: Festive]
That's the way to contend with the grim reaper.
Offer him a drink and a dance!
Will you two talk to me after I've gone?
Offer me bread and sugar skulls to help me on my journey into the next world?
Oh, absolutely, old man. Once a year.
You should write something about the Day of the Dead.
- It's been done. - Oh.
Give it a - Give it a Marxist interpretation.
Matter of fact, I've about decided to trade in the old typewriter...
for a musket.
I might -
I just might go back to England, enlist in the R.A.F.
This next war will be fought in the air.
The next war? Just the same old one.
Oh, no, no, Geoff.
This time, it won't be for territories or possessions, but for our very souls.
Our souls? Ah, good.
So we still have them, do we? I thought, uh -
But no, I mustn't judge others as I judge myself.
You have a soul, Geoff. You have a great soul.
I must have mislaid it then. Perhaps you'll help me to find it, my dear.
- Well, shall we brave the rides? - The infernal machine?
[Geoffrey] Not me. You two go on. I'll catch up.
- Shall we go back? - No, no. Go on. Enjoy yourselves.
I'll fortify myself for the bus ride. Hair of the dog, you know.
Go on. I'll - I'll, uh, catch up.
I think perhaps you've come back just in time.
I would've come back sooner.
Why didn't you?
Well, I wasn't sure he wanted me to. He never answered my letters.
I don't think he ever read them.
- What? - Your letters.
He carries them around stuffed inside his shirt...
but I don't think he ever opened them.
[Bells Jangling]
I cannot find them at all.
Think of places you can go.
Think in your mind the cantinas where you go all the time.
- Think. - Bustamante's.
Hmm. Sí. El Sol de la Noche.
They're not there.
El Popo? No. El Petate? No.
Uh, Todos Contentos y Yo También?
No.
- El Farolito. - [Laughs] No.
Señor Cónsul, you never been there.
- Yes, once. - Oh, you makin' a joke on me.
Gentlemens never go to El Farolito.
Es horrible. Es muy malo.
Men balls turn blue...
and then they go sick, and then they go crazy and they die.
Ha! If anybody be there, I break the glass here.
Believe me, doña Gregoria, I am as chaste as a new-frocked priest.
There's no need to break my glass.
Only fill it again on your own, doña Gregoria.
Ay, señor Cónsul. Hmm.
After a while, I began to wonder.
If a man can hold his liquor as well as Geoff, why shouldn't he drink?
Somehow, Hugh, that is not very consoling.
I'm simply at a loss as to how to help him.
Perhaps we should get away from here, away from Cuernavaca.
- Find a farm somewhere. - A farm?
A real farm, with a red barn and silos and pigs and chickens.
What, no guinea fowl? No peacocks?
- Is it so fantastic? - Perhaps not.
We have money. Enough.
[Chuckling] I'm sorry.
It's just the notion of Geoff among the alfalfa...
in bib overalls and a straw hat, soberly hoeing.
Well, it wouldn't have to be as soberly as all that.
What if he hates farms?
Maybe the mere sight of a cow makes him seasick.
Well, maybe it's ridiculous, but at least it's better than sitting here doing nothing.
[Shouting In Spanish]
No. Gracias. No. No.
- [Children Clamoring] - No! [Laughing]
- No, gracias. - Let me pass.
- No, gracias. - No, gracias.
[Chattering Continues]
Here's to your love.
- Well - - I hope that she come back to you soon.
In fact, she has.
So it is. One day, maybe she come back to you.
She has. This morning, on the bus.
Señor Cónsul, if you had esposa...
you would lose everything in that love.
Oh.
Because is beautiful to have love.
But your mind is "occupated" on one thing.
So you will never lose your mind.
** [Carnival]
I hope your wife come back soon.
She's there, right now. Out there.
You can ever think of it.
Ay, señor Cónsul. ¿No quiere otra?
- No, a bottle of Habanero, por favor. - Ay.
Cómo no, señor Cónsul.
Ahora se la traigo.
Ah, you know, señor Cónsul...
I think you going to see your esposa very soon.
I can see you together...
laughing in a very nice place.
In the place you used to laugh.
Huh?
Ay, gracias, señor Cónsul.
- Adiós. - Adiós, doña Gregoria.
** [Continues]
[Shouting In Spanish]
[Groans]
Uno- [Groans]
[Shouting Continues]
Whoa! [Laughing]
[Man Shouting, Laughing]
[Children Shouting]
[Speaking Spanish]
Here we go.
[Shouts]
[Laughing]
[Laughing Continues]
[Gasps] Whoa!
[Shrieking]
[Shrieking, Shouting]
Ride 'em, cowboy!
[Excited Shouting In Spanish]
Go on, my beauty!
For your life!
[Laughs, Shouting]
[Geoffrey Laughing]
- [Coins Clinking] - [Shouting Continues]
M- My heels kicked at heaven!
Oh! ¡Gracias!
Gracias. Gracias.
Gracias. Gracias. Gracias. Gracias.
- Let's forget the charreada, Geoff. - Absolutely not.
Forward to the arena!
[Clears Throat]
It's like riding over the moon.
I thought divorcées didn't wear their wedding rings.
- They don't. - Well then?
I couldn't get the ring off.
He's a bloody sinarquista. Look at that badge on his lapel.
They're the ones I've been writing about.
The ones getting money from the Nazis.
Stop. Stop the bus. Alto.
[Panting]
- Prohibido. - The hell it is.
[Gasping]
[Geoffrey] Good Christ.
Geoffrey, it's the flute player.
- A doctor in Tomalin? - Sí.
- Go on, Geoff. Let's get him on the bus. - Stop. Prohibido. Don't touch.
No, señor. We go to jail. No mi camión.
It is the law. You will be made accomplices.
Let it go, Hugh. Here come the local authorities.
[Gasping Stops]
Well, we have to help him.
It's too late.
What you doing?
- You murder? - No, of course not.
- You know who murder? - No!
He's dead, Hugh. Let it go.
¡Vámonos!
He was thrown from the horse.
Come from the market. Mucho dinero.
Could've gotten yourself shot.
- ** [Brass Band: Festive] - [Shouting In Spanish]
¡Olé!
- ** [Continues] - [Applause]
Gracias.
Buenas tardes.
Perhaps you'd like to start little "hin fish."
- "Hin fish?" - Nice "hin fish."
- Gin fizz. - [Hugh Laughs]
Tequila, por favor.
Uh, sí. "Hin fish."
Uh, "hin fish" for the lady.
- Tequila doble, por favor. - Ydos tequilas doble.
You like eggs, señora?
Stepped-on eggs? Divorced eggs? Poxy eggs on toast?
Uh, no "poxy" eggs for me.
What's this? "Spectral chicken of the house"?
- [Waiter] Pollo de la casa. - Ah.
- [Geoffrey] Shall we try the spectral chicken? - Uh, sounds heavenly.
Pollo para todos, por favor.
- Muchas gracias. - ** [Man Singing In Spanish]
Ah, the cocktails have arrived.
Gracias.
** [Singing Continues]
- ¡Olé! - Sí.
Muchas gracias, señor. Gracias, señor.
- Oh. - Muchas gracias. ¿Permiso?
- Sí, señor. - Gracias.
** [Strums Chord]
** [Playing]
* Madrid, you wondrous city *
- * Mamita mía * - ** [Singer Harmonizing]
* We wanted to take you *
* They wanted *
* To take you *
* But your courageous children *
* Mamita mía Did not disgrace you *
* Did not *
* Disgrace you *
* And all your tears of sorrow *
- * And all your tears of sorrow * - ** [Harmonizing Continues]
* And all your tears of sorrow *
* Mamita mía We shall avenge them *
* We shall *
* Avenge them **
- [Hugh] Gracias, señor. - Good. Very good.
Gracias, señor.
Had an English friend fighting in Spain.
He was there from the start.
During the Battle of Madrid...
he lay holed up with a machine gun in the library of University City...
reading Carlyle between attacks.
He was a Communist.
Approximately the best man I ever met.
Had a taste for Vin Rosé d'Anjou...
and a dog named Harpo.
You wouldn't expect a Communist to have a dog named Harpo.
Or would one?
He'd been reported dead twice before...
and both times he showed up again at the front.
So when he was listed as a casualty the third time...
no one took any notice...
expecting him to turn up again any day...
hale as ever.
He didn't.
Cervantes! ¡Otros tequila, por favor!
A bottle!
When I think of the men I knew there -
the ones who stayed and died -
Christ, I feel like a deserter.
I should never have left.
You said yourself it was a lost cause.
My conscience says that's no excuse.
What do you know about conscience and about guilt?
Remember who you're talking to.
Master of the S. S. Samaritan...
whose hands - these very hands - los manos to Firmin -
flung seven German officers into her fiery furnace.
- You did not. - One after the other, kicking and squealing.
The tale gets taller each time he tells it.
Geoffrey, you know very well you didn't.
The British Navy doesn't give medals to murderers.
Well, I might have done it.
I was the commanding officer responsible.
You can't apologize for some things.
The past fills up quicker than we know.
"Firmin innocent. Bears guilt of world on shoulders."
Bears your guilt as well, doesn't he?
He invited...
the heart full of dust...
that he got.
Cervantes! Tequila!
** [Brass Band Resumes]
[Crowd Applauding, Cheering]
- ** [Continues] - [Applauding, Cheering Continue]
[Crowd Applauding, Cheering]
[Crowd] ¡Olé!
He's quite good actually. I say, well done!
[Crowd] ¡Olé!
[Crowd] ¡Olé! ¡Olé!
It was always one of his dreams - to be a matador.
He practices veronicas in front of a mirror.
[Applauding]
¡Olé!
- ** [Band Resumes] - ¡Olé!
[Crowd Shouting Cheering]
[Crowd Gasping]
[Woman] ¡Olé!
¡Olé! Bravo, Hugh!
[Crowd Chanting] ¡Toreador! ¡Toreador! ¡Toreador! ¡Toreador!
¡Toreador! ¡Toreador! ¡Toreador! ¡Toreador!
¡Toreador! ¡Toreador! ¡Toreador!
[Cheering]
[Men Shouting In Spanish]
- Geoffrey, listen. Look at me. - What?
- There's nothing holding us here any longer. - No, there's nothing holding us.
- Let's go away together. - No.
It's not too late.
- We can -We can start again. - Start again?
Yes, in another place. A new place will give us a better chance.
Why not? Why not, for sweetJesus' sake? Let's go.
Oh, I love you. I want our marriage back.
So do I. So do I.
- I've fallen down somewhat. - Never mind.
- We could go north, to Maine or Canada. - Yes! Yes. Anywhere.
Find a cabin slap-bang on the sea.
Cliffs beaten by the surf. Um, a small pier in a cove.
- We could. We really could. We could live on very little. - Yes. We could.
Draw our own water. Chop our own wood.
- After all, I'm still as strong as a horse. - Yes.
- What's all this? - We're leaving.
Headed north, where there's snow and the year's divided into seasons.
[Sighs] A farm with a red barn?
No, no.
Escape into the wilderness like good old William Blackstone.
Get to know the trappers and the fishermen -
the last free men on Earth.
Nothing but tall pines. No phones, no electricity.
Quite a life. Tranquil isolation. [Chuckles]
Quite.
Stuck between the forest and the sea...
where there's all the time there is.
Yvonne'll make pottery.
- [Laughs] - I'll write my memoirs.
[Chuckles]
Go further north each winter.
Strike for the Pole. Wear bearskins. Chew seal blubber.
Build igloos. Live among the Eskimo.
Uh, uh, when- when Brother Hugh comes on a visit...
fresh from his heroics in, uh, Spain or wherever...
I'll show proper Eskimo hospitality and give him my wife...
to bed down with during the cold northern night.
Geoff, what possesses you?
Sobriety, I'm afraid.
Too much moderation.
I need drink desperately. Get my balance back.
[Inhales, Sighs]
[Gasps]
[Panting]
What an uncommon time they must have had of it...
paddling palms, playing bubbies and titties...
while I was having bouts with rats and roaches.
"It isn't too late,"she said.
Why isn't it too late? Why isn't it? Did I say so? No.
No, I thought it was - it was all legally settled.
It's only she that insists it isn't too late...
because she can't get the bloody ring off.
Geoffrey. Geoffrey, I've come...
cr- crawling back.
What m-more can I do?
Let me be your wife. [Sobs]
When has she ever been a wife to me?
Where are the children I might have had...
- that drowned to the rattling- - [Gasps]
Of a thousand douche bags?
Hugh, on the threshold of paradise...
puffing over her gills like a codfish, veins like a racehorse...
prime as a goat, hot as a monkey, salt as a wolf in pride.
Let them wallow here in their bliss with my blessing.
Hell's...
my preference.
I choose hell.
[Chuckles]
Hell is my natural habitat.
[Grunts]
Let him go, Yvonne.
- There's nothing one can do when he's like this. - Something will happen to him.
He'll drink himself sober and come dragging home in the morning.
- Hugh, we were wrong, not Geoffrey. - And we'll never make up for it.
He won't let us. He doesn't want your help.
I want his.
[Sighs]
[Coins Jingling, Clattering In Dish]
[Vehicle Horn Honking]
¡Hola! Bus!
Geoffrey!
[Water Splashes]
[Shouting]
[Gunshot]
[Whooping, Shouting Continues]
[Cocks Squawking]
[Laughing, Chattering In Spanish]
Mezcal.
[Speaking Spanish]
[Women Laughing]
[Spanish Continues]
Mezcal, por favor.
[Spanish]
Ay, el inglés.
I know who you are. Sí.
My England man! ¡Mi amigo!
My friend. Old time, old time.
Oh, nice to see you.
You were very borracho. Whole time you were drunk. I buy you to drink.
What do you want? I pay for you and for me.
Cuatro mezcal, por favor.
Anís, para mí.
You buy, then I'll buy, then you.
What do you want, my England man?
I give you the beautiful girl?
- No, gracias. - You always "no, gracias."
No good, "no, gracias."
I give you the most beautiful girl, and you say "no, gracias"?
No, you can't.
Everywhere.
You want, uh, a little girl? Petra.
I give you a little girl.
You want the big girl? Sofia.
I give you Sofia. Big girl. You can do it.
You want a boy?
I guarantee all clean.
What do you want? I make a special price for my friend.
- How 'bout it? - How about what?
- The works. - What works?
The works - God, nooky, moola, cornholin'.
It's all covered in the Old and New Testimony, as wrote by Mozart.
What one don't say, the other do. I say burn all books but them.
Am I right, or am I wrong?
You're absolutely right, my friend.
This man es asshole americano. No good for me or for you.
I no like americanos. No friend to nobody.
- Is asshole man. Get outta here! - [Men Shouting, Whooping]
- ** [Trumpet: Fanfare] - [Speaking Spanish]
[Cheering, Shouting]
[Chattering In Spanish]
** [Continues]
[Thunder Rumbling]
[Laughing, Speaking Spanish]
Hey, I have something for you, señor.
[Speaking Spanish]
Oh, my wife is picking up eggs to be hatched.
She takes a baby, puts it into the chicken run...
and this cock comes out and pecks out the baby's eye.
She wants to kill him. I said, "No, you cannot kill this cock."
This is un bruto. A very powerful cock.
You know what he did?
He won seven straight fights. Can you imagine that?
Seven straight fights. Is it a miracle or not?
Ah, here you are, señor.
Look. Do you recognize them?
Wait, hombre. I send you puta o putas.
Bonita muchacha por mi amigo inglés.
Hola, tía.
Where is su señora?
He's also a drunkard.
[Both Laughing]
[Yvonne's Voice] My heart has the taste of ashes...
and my throat is tight and weary with weeping.
Geoffrey, why don't you answer me?
If you no longer love me and do not want me to come back to you...
will you not write and tell me so?
It is your silence that frightens me.
- ** [Continues] - [Chattering, Laughing Continue]
What has happened to our hearts?
Don't we owe it to ourselves...
to that self we created apart from us...
to try again?
I am sorry.
I am so sorry.
Not enough.
Never enough.
It's not possible.
Not... in this world.
** [Continues]
Bueno. Estoy bien.
- ¿Sí? - Ah. No.
¡Muchachas! [Speaking Spanish]
[Spanish Continues]
[Women Chattering In Spanish]
[Thunder Rumbling]
¿Quieres a María?
[Thunder Continues]
[Rain Pattering]
[Moans]
I'm looking for a tall man.
Englishman. White clothes. Uh, has he been here?
- No hablo inglés, señor. - ¿Buscan al borracho inglés?
- Sí. Sí. - No sé.
- What? - No sé.
- Let's go, Yvonne. - No!
Oh, all right.
Wait here.
- ** [Continues] - [Chattering, Laughing Continue]
¿Inglés?
[Laughing]
[Gasps]
[Crying] Oh, Geoffrey, Geoffrey, Geoffrey!
Oh, Geoffrey!
[Men Laughing]
Geoffrey!
[Chattering Continues]
You pay.
- I paid the girl. - You pay me also.
- Pay more. - [Chuckles] No.
Okay, my England man. No worry for you.
María, she very clean.
If you need doctor, I send all my amigos to this man.
Good man doctor. Here. Come on.
Here. Here. Here you are. Take a look.
** [Continues]
[Laughing]
[Chattering In Spanish]
- Ah, my friend. - Mezcal.
My friend, my friend, old time. Sure, sure.
[Slurred] Mozart was the man who wrote the Bible.
This man is nothing for you. Oh, this man is son of a bitch.
You England man. I don't care for son of a bitch American.
They no good for you or for me.
My Mexican - My Mexican friend, old time, eh?
You gotta study deep down to know that Mozart wrote the Old Testimony.
That's my religion spoke in a few words.
Mozart was a lawyer. Stick by that, you'll be all right.
Oh, American no good. I no like americanos.
I happen to be an American...
and I'm getting extremely bored by your insults.
[Rain Pattering]
¿Qué está haciendo?
What are you doing?
Nothing.
I... heard tell that the world goes 'round...
so I'm going to wait here...
for my house to go by.
Then I'm gonna go inside... and lock the door.
You want to steal mi caballo, huh?
No.
No, amigo mío.
Just looking.
Por favor. Mmm?
** [Continues]
- ¿Ya pagó por la bebida? - [Boy] No. Todavía no.
ÉI no ha pagado lo suficiente por la muchacha.
Hmm. They say there is trouble about you no pay.
You no pay for a drink.
You no have money, eh?
Sí. Gracias. [Chuckling]
- I have money. - No.
You no have money, and now you steal mi caballo, eh?
- [Laughing] - Decidedly not.
No, I was merely admiring it.
Looking at your horse. Admiring.
For why you look at mi caballo? Huh? For why?
I think you steal. [Laughs]
To run away for to not pay money.
No, l-I already paid the girl. I paid your friend.
You don't pay enough!
I think you pay... more.
Certainly. Certainly.
Ah. [Laughing]
¿Cómo te llamas?
This man is chief of municipality.
He want to know your name.
Sí, sí, sí.
We want to know your names. [Laughing]
- Trotsky. - Al Capone.
[Chuckles] Uh, my name is Blackstone.
William Blackstone.
You cabrón Juden.
No, no, no. Blackstone.
Jews are very seldom, uh, very, uh, borrach-borracho?
So - [Chuckles]
Where you come from?
From Russia, eh? What for you do?
Uh, I'm - [Chuckles] I'm, uh -
[Clears Throat] A frontiersman.
This man is chief of gardens.
Jefe de jardineros.
I am chief too. Chief of stockyard.
And you - [Chuckles]
You are chief of borrachos.
[Chuckling, Muttering]
[Chief Of Stockyard] For why you wear black glasses?
For why you make disguise?
I think he's, uh, maybe a spy then.
- [Laughing] - And we shoot the spies in Mexico, huh?
You a Russian spy?
No comprendo.
William Blackstone, frontiersman.
- [Chuckles] - [Tapping]
** [Band Resumes]
[Geoffrey] Cuatro mezcal, por favor.
Go. Go. Vete rápido.
Estos hombres no son amigos de México.
Son malos. Vámonos.
Go.
Gracias, señora.
- ¿Cómo estás? - ** [Stops]
[Geoffrey Chuckles]
Where is your passport, eh? Mmm.
What for you lie?
Your name no is Black.
Hmm. Cabrón.
You Bolshevik prick? Anticristo Jew?
¿Cómo chingado te llamas?
Blackstone.
It say here your name is Firmin.
I don't give a damn what it says anywhere.
My name is Blackstone.
Where your papers?
For why you have no papers, eh?
Give me those letters.
You pox coxes!
You cox coxes!
You murdered that Indian.
Tried to pretend that it was an accident.
You stole his money.
You stole his horse!
Give me... my letters!
What letters, cabrón?
Your name is Black, and you have no letters!
[Gasps, Chattering]
Give me my letters.
I blow you wide open from your knees...
you chingado Jew!
You swines.
You murderers!
Give me my letters!
Trash!
Only the poor, the people you wipe your feet on -
old men carrying their fathers...
philosophers weeping in the dust -
will be saved!
The beggars and the accursed!
I blow you wide open from your knees, you chingado Jew!
Stop walking in your sleep.
Stop sleeping with my wife.
[Gunshots]
- [Geoffrey Screaming] - [Whinnying]
[Gunshot]
- Geoffrey! - [Whinnying]
[Groans]
What a...
dingy way to die.
[Groans]