Anda, perro. ¡Quítese!
Buenas tardes.
Why are you afraid of me?
I love you. I love you.
You came to life for me.
Don't you know me?
Buenas noches, doctor.
- Ah. Buenas noches, señor Geoffrey. - Buenas noches.
Just in time. Exactamente.
The inglés is always by the clock.
You go to the Red Cross, I think.
Mm-mmm. It's good.
Very good.
But, no, there is something wrong.
I know, señor. You have no socks.
Quite. No socks.
With that espléndida vestimenta, there must be socks.
- You want I should bring you? - No. Gracias. Not necessary.
By the way, señor Bustamante, did you find any letters -
can'tas - any letters addressed to me?
No. No, señor. lfind no letters for you.
What letters have you lost?
From my wife.
You have heard from her then. What does she say?
Is she coming back to Mexico?
No. I don't think so.
I'm sorry to see you apart.
I have always great admiration for señora Yvonne.
I think she comes back.
She writes to you, then she will come back.
I also received a letter from her lawyer.
It seems we're divorced now.
Uy, amigo.
Is this true? Yes.
It's true.
I promise to come back.
No! You won't come back.
You hate me. You despise me. No. No.
Liar! Hypocrite!
Las Manos de Orlac. The Hands of Orlac, no?
It's a good story.
A man is a pianist, but loses his hands under a train.
Is given him another, but they are the hands of a killer.
Uh, these hands murder people.
But his heart does not, and he's very, very sorry.
Some things you can't apologize for.
The fate of all the world is changed, I think.
Only in Mexico is death an occasion for laughter.
On Day of the Dead, when their spirits come back to us...
the road from heaven must be made - made easy...
and not slippery with tears.
Sorry, old girl. They won't let you into this occasion.
Your gowrs cut far too low.
Good evening, sir. How are you?
You know the doctor.
Poquito de brandy.
Poquito de anís.
Poquito de tequila.
Mmm. Poquito de whiskey.
Poquito de mezcal.
Oh, no, no. No mescal. Never touch mescal.
I'd go thirsty before drinking mescal.
Is loco. Mescal is just the tequila of the poor.
Mescal is for the damned.
Oh, good Christ. Last blast of diplomacy coming up.
Buenas noches, señor Firmin. Buenas noches.
I wish to introduce to you Herr Krausberg, German attaché.
Herr Krausberg, Mr. Firmin.
Former British Consul to Cuernavaca.
It's a great pleasure for me to meet you, Mr. Firmin.
Same, I'm sure. Un cocktail de champagne.
I hope your next, uh, post will be as beautiful as Cuernavaca.
Nothing next. I've retired. Oh, have you really?
"Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight," or something like that.
I'm going to stay on here in Mexico.
Oh, how fortunate for me.
I hope to have a friendship with you...
as close, as cordial, as the friendship between our two nations.
Actually, Herr Krausberg, you may be able to do me a great service.
I would be very happy to help in whatever way I can.
It's to do with my brother- half brother.
- Do you understand "half brother"? - Mm-hmm.
F-Father remarried an American Southern beauty.
Hugh. Uh, newspaperman. Freelance sort of stuff.
He's chasing some rumor down right now.
But you may be able to shed some light. Most gladly, if I can.
Is Germany financing a Nazi movement here in Mexico?
Of course not. Your brother, Mr. Firmin - Half. Half.
Half. Sorry. Your half brother...
obviously suffers from an overactive imagination.
Called the sinarquistas, if I'm not mistaken.
Nonsense. It's just a rumor, as you said.
In any case, we are allies now, aren't we?
Since that marvelous agreement between your prime minister and our führer.
So, let's drink together, shall we?
To, uh -To the understanding of our nations.
It is a union I'm, uh, convinced...
that will assure peace for many, many years to come.
Prost, Herr Firmin.
Yes, quite. The Munich Pact and all that.
Peace in our timel But let's not be too hasty.
Let's hedge our bets, what? After all, the Mexican railroad has.
They don't mean to be taken by surprise.
Just take a look at their newest timetable - at the fine print.
Corpses must be transported by express.
Each of these express corpses...
must be accompanied by a first-class passenger.
Now, let's suppose, uh, the treaty fails and it's bloody Armageddon.
Just think of it. You -You
Railways stand to make a fortune.
You're right. You're right. But just think of it.
All of those bloody corpses, each holding a first-class ticket.
Absolutely.
One Day of the Dead won't be enough.
Month. Decade.
Age of the Dead, more like it!
The whole world will learn to laugh...
at the sight of stinking cadavers.
Oh, ha, ha. Bloody ha, ha, ha!
Oh, good God.
Express trains will be booked up years in advance.
Corpses hand in hand with bloody first-class ticket holders...
standing in lines for miles waiting for transport.
Aha. Yes.
Ladies and gentlemen of the Red Cross...
you have your bloody work cut out for you.
Arranging storage of, uh - Amigo. Señor.
Storage for this bumper crop of dancing carcasses.
Señor Geoffrey. Build special depots.
Uh, stack them in layers.
Or squeeze - squeeze them in upright.
No, better still - cut them in pieces.
Chop them up and stash them in sacks.
And paint red crosses on them. Come, señor.
Come, amigo. Throw away your mind.
It is sad to spend your life in such continual tragedies.
Ah, it's not in the times, of course, but in the heart.
No se puede vivir sin amar.
Uh. No se puede vivir sin amar.
Hmm. I woke up one morning, she was gone.
Nothing. Just a bloody note.
I need her.
Come. I know what you must do.
Come with me. It is not far. Come.
She is the Virgin of Soledad.
La santa patrona...
for those who have nobody with...
and those what are lost...
and mariners at sea.
You must ask...
for your esposa again.
Ask her.
I can't.
It's like asking my fairy godmother for three wishes.
You must forgive my compañero.
He's too borracho to pray.
No se puede vivir sin amar, Madrecita.
And he -
He - He has lost his esposa.
And he ask for your help.
Please.
Pray to the Virgin.
I'm dying without you.
Come back to me, Yvonne.
Are you listening, Fernando?
Si es absolutamente necesario.
Pay close attention. A lesson. A parable.
I'm telling you about responsibility, Fernando.
Si es absolutamente necesario.
This ship was a thoroughgoing lie...
and I was the commanding officer.
This ship - the S.S. Samaritan...
it was called...
Iooked from the outside like a harmless, fat old lady-
a laden freighter lying heavy on the sea.
Are you listening, Fernando?
...sink anything the Germans might send our way!
It was 1917, spring.
We sight a periscope sighting us.
Are you listening, Fernando?
They prepare to board us.
Then the big surprise.
Are you listening, Fernando?
Oh.
We drop our disguise.
The predator suddenly becomes the prey.
I got a medal for capturing that sub.
But first I had to be tried at a court-martial.
The mystery of the missing German officers.
You see...
the remains of seven men...
were found in the furnace ashes.
Rather gruesome, hmm?
It just isn't done, Fernando.
People just don't go around putting other people into furnaces.
Hmm. Yvonne.
I'm back.
Is it really you? Of course it's me.
Can't be.
I wrote you I was coming. Didrt you get my letters?
I wasrt even sure you were still here. I had to call the Foreign Office.
I am always more or less here.
Uh, I did go away, uh, once, just last week.
To a bullfight, in Tomalin.
Wound up in El Farolito.
But just for drinks, mind you.
How did you get here?
I came by, uh, boat from New York.
I caught a plane from Veracruz. I see.
You must be exhausted.
Not really. I had a million hours of sleep on the boat.
The worst part was the ride from the airfield.
A bus.
It's the shakes that make this life insupportable.
But they subside, if handled properly...
with the necessary swigs, the therapeutic touch.
Have a drink with me. No, you have one. I'll cheer.
Calle Nicaragua 52. Sí, señora.
How, unless you drink as I do...
can you hope to understand the beauty of an old Indian woman...
playing dominoes with a chicken?
Well, the taxis seem to have all disappeared.
- Shall we walk? - Why? What's happened to the car?
You haven't smashed it up again, have you?
Well, as a matter of fact, I lost it.
- You lost it? - Mmm.
Look here, dash it all, you must be terribly tired, Yvonne.
Let's not walk. Let's sit and wait for a taxi.
No, not at all. I would think that you're the one who's tired.
Oh, no, no. Fine here.
Glad to get some circulation going in the old legs.
Did they tell you, the Foreign Office, that I'd resigned?
What happened?
Just fed up.
Geoffrey, why didn't you answer my letters?
Shakes, you know. Bit unsteady with a pen.
You might have hired him.
Dear Yvonne...
I'm taking the easy, only way out - Semicolon.
Good-bye - Full stop.
Change of paragraph. Change of chapter.
Change of world.
How sweetly blooms the graves
With fragrant flowers
Just once a year the dead live for the day
Do you remember that Strauss song, Geoffrey, called "All Soul's Day"?
Return to me, my love that I may hold you
As once in May
What have you been doing for the past year besides getting a divorce?
Mostly I was in New York.
I got a part in a revival of The Italian Straw Hat.
Remember- the play I was in when we met?
I was the ingenue then.
Afraid those days are gone.
This time, I only had a character part. We closed last week.
I see.
Look, his eyes are closed. The horse knows his way home.
Gracias. Gracias, gracias.
Oh, hello, hello! Look who comes here!
My little Oedipuss.
Hello!
Oh, there you are.
Do you think he's forgotten me? No, he's not forgotten you.
I never believed it - that cats are not attached to people but to places.
I've missed you, Oedipuss.
He's missed you too.
ISeñora, qué gusto!
Oh! Buenos días.
Buenos días, Concepta. Cómo la he extrañado.
Oh, I've missed you too, Concepta.
What happened to my beautiful garden, my camellias?
It became a bit of a jungle, I'm afraid.
But look here, just suppose for argument's sake...
that you, uh, abandoned a besieged town...
and somehow or other, not long afterwards, you come back.
You can't well expect to invite yourself into the same green graces...
quite the same, uh, oh...
dear old welcome here and there, can you, hmm?
Have you come back, or are you just visiting?
I'm here, aren't I?
Hugh! Come out here!
You'll never guess who's just popped in.
Is Hugh here? Oh. Didrt I tell you?
Oh, he's been back some time.
He came straight from the Spanish Civil War.
Been playing Florence Nightingale for me.
Hugh. Where are you?
He was quite disappointed when he got back and, uh, discovered you'd flown the coop.
I do believe he's missed you full as much as I.
Hugh. Where are you? Where can the young pup be?
Hugh! An emissary calls.
The Consul of Cuckold's Haven.
Come and give the wife a"welcome back" kiss.
Oh, I forgot. He's in Mexico City. Be back some time today.
He'd gotten a wind of some, uh, rumor, and he -
he chased off like a hound after a hare.
Geoffrey. Just tell me. I can go.
This is Hugh's home cure for alcoholism.
Strychnine.
He bribes Concepta to poison me.
Veneno. Señora, eso no es verdad.
It's dreadful. It is.
Uh, would you like a whiskey?
I haven't had breakfast yet.
Geoffrey?
Geoffrey. Take it. What?
For God's sake, drink it. I'm not expecting miracles.
No, no, no, no. I'll stick to the old, uh, medicine, thank you.
- Have you really resigned? - Absolutely.
No more diplomacy for me.
Well, then there's nothing really holding you here anymore.
Magic.
"He on whose heart the dust of Mexico has lain...
will find no peace in any other land."
But nothing's really holding you.
There's nothing more real than magic.
All right, Geoffrey, we can talk about it when you're rested.
When I'm sober, you mean.
Surely you know by this time that I can't get drunk, however much I drink...
and that I'm only drunk in the conventional, incoherent staggering sense...
when I haven't had a drink.
Surely you appreciate the, mmm - the fine balance I must strike...
between the, uh, shakes of too little and, uh, the abyss of too much.
- I do appreciate it. - Yes. Quite. Well.
Well, I'd like to have a bath.
Have your drink.
Ah.
Concepta!
- Señor. - Tequila, por favor.
- No hay nada que tomar. - Nothing?
- Nada.
- Ah, good morning, Quincey. - What's good about it?
I have just been inspecting my paradise.
I half expected to see Adam come riding out of it on a tiger.
- On a what? - On a tiger.
I would imagine - lots of tigers and pink elephants too.
- About your cat, Firmin - - I've been giving a lot of thought to Eden.
Finding a path back to our origins.
Perhaps I'll go and live among the Indians, like William Blackstone...
stripped of useless trappings.
Unaccommodated man - the thing itself. You know about Blackstone?
My wife and I are kept awake half the night with its infernal howling.
- Or don't you hear it? - Blackstone's a character I've always admired.
He lived peacefully among the Indians, in, uh -
somewhere in what is now Massachusetts.
But the-the Puritans found him...
and tried to-to coax him back to a respectable life.
If you don't do something about your cat, I will.
But Blackstone didn't like the Puritans. Oh, no. No, he didn't.
He'd have none of them.
So he went further into the wilderness...
never to be heard from again.
I'll strangle that damn cat with my bare hands.
Don't worry, Quincey. Oedipuss only howled for Yvonne.
And she's come back.
- Knock, knock. - Who's there?
- Cat. - Cat who?
Cat-astrophe.
Catastrophe who?
Oh, uh, cat-astrophysicist?
- Have a bite of breakfast? - I already partook.
- You look weary. - No, I'm fine.
Hah.
You've always done that -
always carefully cradled your lemon wedges.
So meticulous.
Oh.
Do you remember the names of the months, the Mayan months?
- Pop. - Mm-hmm. Uo.
- Zotz. - Uh, Tzed. Xal.
Yaxkin.
Mac. Isn't there one called Mac?
There's Yax and Zac.
"In receipt of yours, dated Zac the first"?
My favorite was always uayeb-
the poor little month that only had five days.
I've wanted you back so badly.
I'll do anything. I'll stop drinking.
I'll do anything for you.
It's us. It's - It's us again.
Oh, Geoffrey!
I'm sorry.
It isn't any good, I'm afraid.
Stay.
Where are you, old man?
Hello, Hugh.
Yvonne.
Well, how absolutely... something or other.
Geoffrey told me you were here.
Did he?
He did.
You look awfully well.
You too. Quite a get-up.
- Like the Ringo Kid. - With a touch of Savile Row.
- I thought you were in Spain. - I was.
- What happened? - What?
Why did you leave? The war's not over yet, is it?
Why, I was sort of wounded.
Hugh.
On the way to watch the battle for Madrid. Fell out of an ambulance.
Seven cases ofbeer and six journalists fell on top of me.
Ah, it's a lost cause by now anyway.
Franco has all the soldiers and the tanks and the aeroplanes...
and all the Loyalists seem to have are good songs.
Sólo es nuestro deseo
Rumbala, rumbala, rumbala
- When did you get here? - Just this morning.
Well, where is he -
our monarch?
He's gone out. For a bottle, I believe.
You just... appeared?
- What? - No warning.
No, I wrote.
Still I -
I think I... caught him by surprise.
- How did he react? - Glad to see me, I think.
I'm sure he was.
- How do you find him? - His drinking, you mean?
- Well, yes, his drinking. - Half the time, I can't tell when he's tight.
He has the constitution of a bull, you know.
He's gone down, I think.
Well, now you've come back like this...
perhaps he'll stop.
Yeah.
Look here, is everything all right?
I say. I say, what's the matter here?
Nothing. Absolutely all right.
All right? But you were lying down in the middle of the road.
All right just the same. Thank you very much.
My dear fellow, you were lying right down here. I might have run you over.
- Are you sure there's nothing wrong? - No.
What? Are you sure you're all right?
Oh.
- Havert I seen you somewhere before? - Oxford?
- No. Cambridge. - You're wearing an Oxford tie.
Oh, the tie. That belongs to my cousin. We're headed for Guatemala.
We're making a little tour of the temples, don't you know?
- Splendid country, isn't it? - Splendid.
Look, are you absolutely sure there are no bones broken?
No, no bones broken -
Oh, my dear fellow. My dear fellow. Here.
Now, listen. We are staying at the Bella Vista.
Why don't we pop back to the hotel, and you can have a little bit of a lie-down?
- No, fine, thank you. - No?
Well, I always keep something in the car for emergencies.
Irish. Burke's Irish.
Mmm. Thanks a million.
- No, no. Carry on, my dear fellow. Carry on. - Ah. Mmm.
Awfully decent of you, old chap.
I say. I know where I last saw you.
You were that chap who made that speech last night.
- Is that right, old man? - Quite right.
Didrt really get through to me completely, but you sounded jolly good.
Look, if you're absolutely sure that you're feeling all right, I'd better be pushing off.
- Top hole. - Don't go falling into roads anymore, will you?
- You might get run over or run in. Ha, ha.
- Bloody awful road, isn't it? - Dreadful. Dreadful.
Yes, yes. The weather's splendid. Cheerio.
Let me know if you're ever in any kind of jam.
- Tallyho! - Tallyho!
Hey, Hugh! You old snake in the grass.
- Hello, Geoff, old man. - Quite a surprise, huh, Yvonne appearing like this?
Calls for a celebration.
God, I forgot. I haven't got a drop in the house. What kind of a host does that make me?
I just popped out for the champagne, bumped into an old college chum.
Maudlin man. Sit down, you two.
Did you tell Hugh about your return to the stage?
She's made a comeback. Great success.
Hugh's looking well, isn't he? Huh?
Mexico agrees with him. Brown as a berry.
Why, he's been taking splendid care of me.
And I do believe results are beginning to show.
I feel strong as a horse. Strong as a horse.
All due to Hugh's wonder drug. Kill or cure.
Oh, we could all have a strychnine.
Excuse me, will you? Uh, I'll, um -
Amuse yourselves for a few moments.
I'll, uh, tidy up a bit.
Aah.
Yvonne, forgive my asking like this...
but, uh, have you... really come back to him?
Or what?
I mean, I'd just... like to know precisely what the situation is.
- So would I. - You don't know?
Yes. I've come back to him.
All right?
- Right here, old man. - Oh, Geoffrey.
Upsy-daisy. There we go.
Can't stop bouncing about.
- I wonder what this is like. - Geoffrey!
Not bad. Not bad. Slightly under proof.
A little like Pernod.
Still, it keeps the galloping cockroaches at bay.
- Oh. Oh!
Into the shower.
Little cockroach on the wall...
ain't you got no one at all?
Ah. Allow me.
Ooh. Oh!
- Feeling better? - New man. Revived.
No past, only future.
Now be still.
Oh, hey. No, listen. We ought to go to the fiesta.
- What, now? - Yes, it will be all, all gone tomorrow.
I mean, we ought to, unless, of course, you're too fagged.
No, I'm fine.
Now hold still. I'm doing your neck.
"Don't be careful," as the Mexicans say.
- I'll be back in a moment.
- Mm-hmm.
- All right.
She looks well.
- Doesrt she, huh? - Yes. She does.
Mmm. Looks well.
I think-
I think I will only drink beer today on our outing.
Chin. Chin.
There's nothing like...
beer-
beer to straighten one out.
- You know? - Mm-hmm.
- And then - - Uh-huh, uh-huh.
Then go back to the strychnine.
Strychnine. Who knows?
- Uh-huh.
Who knows? I may actually-
I may get off it completely.
- Well, you ought to try. - Yes.
- Yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes. - All right?
Yes, yes, yes.
Look, Geoff, shouldn't I -
Shouldrt I leave?
- Leave? - Yes.
Immediately, rather than hang around.
Whatever for?
Well, I thought it might make things easier.
M-Make what eas-easier?
For the two of you. Here.
- For the two of us? - Yes.
I mean, now that Yvonne's back, you'll be very well looked after.
- What are you afraid of? - Nothing.
Yvonne's wiles or your own baser instincts?
For Christ's sake, should I go or not?
Wouldrt it look rather odd, you just shooting off?
Stay, Hugh.
Hmm. Of course. You must stay.
Ready.
You look very... very.
Thank you.
Mmm. Here.
No se puede vivir sin amar.
What?
"One cannot live without lovel '
It really is an extraordinarily nice day for a trip.
We should, uh, carry on to Tomalin after the fiesta.
No car.
Where's your sense of adventure? We can take the bus.
Get there in time for the charreada. IOlé! and all that.
- Are we up to that? - "Up to that?"
"Up to that?" What a question.
Oh, they look so serene.
Our ever-present guardian angels.
Popocatepetl and his sleeping lady.
- We should pay them a visit. - That's the spirit.
After the bulls, we'll pop up old Popo...
and look into the hot heart of the volcano.
- One step at a time, old man.
Doctor Vigil!
- Buenos días. - Buenos días.
I am glad, after last night, you are among the living.
- Buenos días, doctor. - Buenos días.
Hello, Doctor.
Nice to see you again.
- Since when you are here? - I came this morning.
Miraculous.
Truly it is a miracle.
In the night, we pray to the Virgin for those who have nobody them with.
The consul and me, we pray for your return...
and now you are here.
Is it not wonderful?
Geoffrey? Did you?
I might point out, amigo, Yvonne left New York over a week ago.
It seems your miracle is after the fact.
Ah, but the Virgin, she knew you were going to pray before ever you prayed.
Is still more miracle.
The good doctor makes logic and faith lie down together like the lion and the lamb.
Doctor, what would you prescribe for a chronic case...
of uncontrollable, all-possessing and inescapable delirium tremens?
More alcohol is best, in a quantity moderated.
- Precisely. You hear that, you two? - Uh, I heard " moderatedl '
Doctor, would you care to join me in a little moderation?
I cannot. I must see to a child coming.
- So I leave the family to be together.
Señora Firmin, truly you are a miracle.
Thank you, Doctor.
Buenos días. It's a lovely day.
We shall have thunder.
- Adiós. - Adiós.
- 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-sidel '
Uh - " Swootle, pootle...
"off to Bootle.
Nemesis: a pleasant ride!"
I arrived in heaven!
Doña Inés.
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 mustrt 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?
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 wasrt 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.
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. - No.
Señor Cónsul, you never been there.
- Yes, once. - Oh, you makir 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.
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.
No. Gracias. No. No.
No!
- No, gracias. - Let me pass.
- No, gracias. - No, gracias.
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.
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.
Uno
Here we go.
Ride 'em, cowboy!
Go on, my beauty!
For your life!
M-My heels kicked at heaven!
Oh! IGracias!
Gracias. Gracias.
Gracias. Gracias. Gracias. Gracias.
- Let's forget the charreada, Geoff. - Absolutely not.
Forward to the arena!
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.
- Prohibido. - The hell it is.
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.
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.
IVámonos!
He was thrown from the horse.
Come from the market. Mucho dinero.
Could've gotten yourself shot.
IOlé!
Gracias.
Buenas tardes.
Perhaps you'd like to start little " hin fishl '
- "Hin fish?" - Nice "hin fish."
- Gin fizz.
Tequila, por favor.
Uh, sí. " Hin fishl '
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"?
- Pollo de la casa. - Ah.
- Shall we try the spectral chicken? - Uh, sounds heavenly.
Pollo para todos, por favor.
- Muchas gracias.
Ah, the cocktails have arrived.
Gracias.
- IOlé! - Sí.
Muchas gracias, señor. Gracias, señor.
- Oh. - Muchas gracias. ¿Permiso?
- Sí, señor. - Gracias.
Madrid, you wondrous city
- Mamita mía
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
And all your tears of sorrow
Mamita mía We shall avenge them
We shall
Avenge them
- 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 shouldersl '
Bears your guilt as well, doesn't he?
He invited...
the heart full of dust...
that he got.
Cervantes! Tequila!
¡Olé!
He's quite good actually. I say, well done!
¡Olé!
IOlé!
¡Olé! ¡Olé!
It was always one of his dreams - to be a matador.
He practices veronicas in front of a mirror.
IOlé!
¡Olé!
IOlé!
¡Olé!
IOlé! Bravo, Hugh!
IToreador! ¡Toreador! ¡Toreador! ¡Toreador!
- 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.
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.
Quite.
Stuck between the forest and the sea...
where there's all the time there is.
Yvonne'll make pottery.
I'll write my memoirs.
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.
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.
When has she ever been a wife to me?
Where are the children I might have had...
- that drowned to the rattling-
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.
Hell is my natural habitat.
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.
IHola! Bus!
Geoffrey!
Mezcal.
Mezcal, por favor.
Ay, el inglés.
I know who you are. Sí.
My England man! IMi 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, cornolir.
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!
Hey, I have something for you, señor.
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 cockl '
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.
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.
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.
Bueno. Estoy bien.
- ¿Sí? - Ah. No.
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.
Wa
¿Inglés?
Oh, Geoffrey, Geoffrey, Geoffrey!
Oh, Geoffrey!
Geoffrey!
You pay.
- I paid the girl. - You pay me also.
- Pay more. - 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.
- Ah, my friend. - Mezcal.
My friend, my friend, old time. Sure, sure.
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.
¿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?
- ¿ Ya pagó por la bebida? - 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.
- I have money. - No.
You no have money, and now you steal mi caballo, eh?
- 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.
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.
¿Cómo te llamas?
This man is chief of municipality.
He want to know your name.
Sí, sí, sí.
We want to know your names.
- Trotsky. - Al Capone.
Uh, my name is Blackstone.
William Blackstone.
You cabrón Juden.
No, no, no. Blackstone.
Jews are very seldom, uh, very, uh, borrach-borracho?
So -
Where you come from?
From Russia, eh? What for you do?
Uh, I'm - I'm, uh -
a frontiersman.
This man is chief of gardens.
Jefe de jardineros.
I am chief too. Chief of stockyard.
you are chief of borrachos.
For why you wear black glasses?
For why you make disguise?
I think he's, uh, maybe a spy then.
- And we shoot the spies in Mexico, huh?
You a Russian spy?
No comprendo.
William Blackstone, frontiersman.
Cuatro mezcal, por favor.
Go. Go. Vete rápido.
Estos hombres no son amigos de México.
Son malos. Vámonos.
Go.
Gracias, señora.
- ¿Cómo estás?
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!
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.
- Geoffrey!
What a...
dingy way to die.