Transcript | Transcript (Text Only)
Lieutenant Mathis: Mr. Bond?
Evelyn Tremble: Yes?
Lieutenant Mathis: I’m Lieutenant Mathis of the Special Police.
Lieutenant Mathis: These are my credentials.
Evelyn Tremble: They appear to be in order.
Lieutenant Mathis: Come with me.
M: They used to say a good spy is a pure spy, inside and out. Roses, Tanagra figurines and Debussy. He plays Debussy every afternoon, from sunset until it’s too dark to read the music. Stands on his head a lot, eats royal jelly. Lets his intestines down and washes them by hand. Something he learned during his sojourn in Tibet.
CIA Represnative: M, what gives?
M: I forgot to mention lions.
Smernov: Lions and more lions.
Ransome: We’re surrounded by lions.
Smernov: I did not come here to be devoured by symbols of monarchy!
Le Grand: I warn you, M, if this is a trap…
M: Calm yourselves, gentlemen. It’s no trap, I assure you. The lions are only curious. He has few visitors.
Le Grand: That I can believe.
M: A veritable Eden, is it not, gentlemen?
Le Grand: “Eden without an Eve is an absurdity.”
Ransome: “A good spy is a pure spy.”
Le Grand: Not good. Great. The greatest spy in history, gentlemen.
M: The true, one and only, original James Bond.
Servant: The gentlemen are here, Sir James.
James Bond: Thank you.
M: My dear Bond.
James Bond: My dear M.
Ransome: Ransome, CIA, Sir James.
James Bond: J-Junior cipher c-cIerk in m-my day, weren’t you, Ransome?
Ransome: Uh, yes, sir. JCC, uh, class G, SIC to SCCT. Uh…CIA, Washington D.C.
Smernov: Smernov, KGB, Sir James.
James Bond: Ah, yes. Uh, the L-Labor camp inspector.
Smernov: Ikon 988, KPU, Siberian sector.
James Bond: I remember your ch-chap Lenin very well. First-class organizer, second-class mind.
Le Grand: Le Grand, Sir James. Deuxième bureau.
James Bond: Promoted at last from the vice, uh, detail?
M: How incredibIy well you Iook, James.
James Bond: Time, my dear M, does not exist within these walls.
Ransome: They ain’t for real.
Smernov: Yes, a far cry from our embattled world.
James Bond: In my day, spying was an alternative to war. And the spy was a member of a select and immaculate priesthood, vocationally d-devoted, sublimely disinterested.
Le Grand: Thank you.
James Bond: Hardly a description of that sexual acrobat who leaves a t-trail of beautiful d-dead women like blown roses behind him.
M: You mean, um…
James Bond: You know very weII who I mean. That b-bounder to whom you gave my name and number.
M: My dear James, when you left us we were a small service, under-financed, ludicrously ill-equipped. It was essential that your legend be maintained. Without a James Bond oh-oh seven, no one would have respected us.
James Bond: Him and his wretched g-gadgets.
Le Grand: Well, we must make use of the weapons of our time.
James Bond: So I observe. You, Ransome, with your trick carnation that s-spits cyanide. You ought to be ashamed.
Ransome: The Russians started it.
James Bond: And you, Smernov, with an armory concealed in your grotesque boots. Listen to them t-tinkle. And you, Le Grand, with a different deadly poison in each of your fly buttons. And you, M, with your flame-throwing fountain pens. Y-Y-You’re joke-shop spies, gentlemen.
Ransome: We are in the last haIf of the 20th century, Sir James. Even you have to face it.
James Bond: Why shouId I, when I can face that, instead? Look at my garden. Out there, there is a b-black rose. Not dark red, but black. As a raven’s wing at midnight.
James Bond: Gentlemen, I wouId not exchange one single petal of that lovely flower for anything your world has to offer, including an Aston M-Martin complete with lethal accessories.
Smernov: You have only contempt for the proletariato, Sir James. This we know.
Ransome: If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d lost your faith in democracy.
M: Look James, you can break the bloody glass, but you can’t hold back the weather. Things are bad. Very bad. I’ve Iost 11 agents in the last fortnight, seven killed, four missing.
James Bond: Is it too much to hope that my namesake among them?
M: He may well be tomorrow.
Ransome: Eight of ours have been given the works…two in the Pentagon!
Le Grand: Sixteen!
Smernov: KGB is depIeted! I’m not at liberty to disclose exact figures.
Le Grand: The enemy has penetrated our most secret inner circles.
Smernov: He reads our very mind.
Ransome: For all we know, he has his eye on us now. Sighting us in.
James Bond: Are you quite sure he is not one or m-more of you?
M: Oh, no, uh, no.
Ransome: Absolutely sure.
Smernov: Until this danger is past, we must stand united in the defense of all spies, everywhere, great or small, regardIess of nationality.
James Bond: Calamity makes strange b-bedfellows, but why, I wonder, in the strength of your unity, do you disturb an old fashioned gentleman in his retirement?
M: We need your inspirational leadership in this dark hour.
Le Grand: Please give us the benefit of your incomparable powers of deduction.
Ransome: For the freedom-Ioving peoples of the world!
Smernov: For the sake of the glorious socialist revolution.
James Bond: If I may interrupt this flow of cliché, it is now that time of day I have set apart for Debussy.
Ransome: Can this be the man who won a Victoria Cross at Mafeking?
Le Grand: The hero of the Ashanti Uprising?
Smernov: What genius to be wasted in the service of a crumbling empire!
Ransome: But why, why, at the height of his powers, did Bond decide to retire?
Le Grand: Mata Hari, my dear friend.
Ransome: What’s the connection?
Le Grand: The woman in his life.
Ransome: I don’t get it.
Le Grand: It was his painful duty to lure her across the Spanish frontier into France, where we stood her in front of a firing squad.
M: He really loved that woman.
M: Well, James?
James Bond: I’m sorry, old man, b-but what you ask is quite impossible.
M: Perhaps, this will change your decision.
James Bond: My record speaks my loyalty. But no, not even for her, McTarry.
M: Sorry, James.
Soldier: There’s McTarry’s signal! Stand by!
Soldier 2: Zero!
Soldier 3: On!
Soldier 2: Fire!
Soldier 3: Fire!
Soldier 2: Up 200!
Smersh Operative: Authority to Control.
Woman: Go ahead!
Smersh Leader: Proceed with Smersh Plan B. Sir James Bond is back, with his morals, his vows, and his celibate image. We must destroy that image.
Fisherwoman: Riverbank to Control.
Control: Receiving you, go ahead.
Fisherwoman: The target has just entered Scotland.
Bagpiper: M’s castle to Control.
Control: M’s name is McTarry. Use it.
Bagpiper: Plan B in operation. McTarry Castle completely occupied, with only one change. Agent Mimi is now M’s widow.
Control: Agent Mimi impersonating Lady Fiona?
Bagpiper: Well, she has the best Scots accent.
Agent Mimi: And that’s all that’s left of the McTarry.
James Bond: Your husband d-died as he lived, Lady Fiona. In the service of Her M-Majesty. I thought it would be my p-p-p-painful duty to imp-part the news. How did you know your husband M…I’m sorry, McTarry…was dead?
Agent Mimi: We were told.
James Bond: Might I ask who told you?
Agent Mimi: The Grey Piper.
James Bond: The who?
Agent Mimi: Tell Sir James about the Grey Piper, lass.
Eliza: Whenever a McTarry dies, he comes down from the mountain, over the loch and through the heather, playing the clan lament. We always put a tappit hen of usquebaugh outside the castle door.
James Bond: T-T-T-Tappit hen?
Woman: A quart o’ whisky.
James Bond: Is he a real p-p-p-piper?
Eliza: We dinna ken. But it’s been the same one for 600 years.
Agent Mimi: Naught else remains?
James Bond: Nothing to s-speak of, I’m afraid. It was found in a tree, 100 yards from where he-he-he stood. Took off, as it were, and flew like a b-b-bird. But whether it is an article of apparel or an an-anatomical f-feature, that is the question. Should it be given Christian burial? Just how p-personal is a toupee?
Agent Mimi: It can onIy be regarded as a “hairloom.” Eliza, put it with all the other relics of McTarry glory. We all ken that our beloved McTarry of the Glen was a different man in Whitehall. But McTarry women never ask questions. According to clan tradition, when the laird dies, a black he-goat must be ta’en alive off Ben Tarry by six barefoot virgins. I myseIf slaughter it. The daughters wrest the stomach out, and stuff it wi’ entrails.
Woman 2: Bright entrails.
Agent Mimi: Sear it, boil it, and serve it up.
James Bond: And…eat it?
Agent Mimi: Warm reekin’.
James Bond: S-Sounds d-delicious.
Agent Mimi: We start feastin’ at midnight, washin’ the haggis down wi’ usquebaugh. One gives strength to the limbs, the other fire to the blood for dancin’.
James Bond: D-D-Dancing?
Agent Mimi: The McTarry funeral fling. “Argar, argar garar goru argar” it goes.
James Bond: Most m-moving.
Agent Mimi: Ah, we dance till we fall in our tracks. And after an hour’s repose, the piper wakes us to the tune o’ “Awa’ to the Grouse,” and awa’ we go to the memorial grouse shoot.
James Bond: B-But surely the grouse are not in, in season?
Agent Mimi: Whenever a McTarry dies, the grouse come into season.
Heather McTarry: I’m Heather.
Meg McTarry: I’m Meg. Your bath’s ready, Sir James
James Bond: Thank you.
Heather McTarry: At the end of the passage.
James Bond: Very kind of you.
Heather McTarry: Let us help you out o’ your duddies.
James Bond: No, thank you. I can manage m-my…
Meg McTarry: We always helped Daddy.
James Bond: How many…of you are there? D-D-Daughters, I mean.
Heather McTarry: Eleven in all.
James Bond: Eleven? M-My word. And how do the, the ages…Ho-ho-ha-ha! Ages, run? Who is the? How young is the youngest?
Meg McTarry: Sixteen.
James Bond: And the, and the eldest?
Meg McTarry: Nineteen.
James Bond: Do you mean there are only…? Ha-h-ha! Be careful, that’s my loose kneecap. Do you mean there are only three years between all…Ho-ho! A11 of you?
Heather McTarry: Some of us are adopted daughters.
James Bond: I see. Oh. Steady. Uhh, are there any, any m-men in the house?
Heather McTarry: Nane but the pipers. My daddy only liked the lassies.
James Bond: Your, your daddy really was a, a d-different man in Whitehall.
I’m testing the temperature of the water, as I always did for my daddy. He used to call me his little thermometer. Well? Get in.
James Bond: Get in?
Buttercup McTarry: Get in!
James Bond: You’re sure I’m not c-crowding you?
Buttercup McTarry: Get in. Ah! Do you like your back scrubbed?
James Bond: Thank you. What is your n-name, my dear?
Buttercup McTarry: Buttercup.
James Bond: How, um… old are you?
Buttercup McTarry: Seventeen.
James Bond: Do you, um… go to school?
Buttercup McTarry: Daddy taught us. There. You’re as sleek as a baby. Now, turn round.
James Bond: What form are you in?
Buttercup McTarry: Can ye nae judge that for yourseIf, Sir James?
James Bond: What is your favorite subject?
Buttercup McTarry: Anatomy. That’s your mediastinum. That’s your orbicularis oris. That’s your azygos vein. That’s your articular cartilage, and those are your synovial membranes.
James Bond: Right, right.
Buttercup McTarry: It’s getting gae cold!
James Bond: Right.
Buttercup McTarry: My daddy liked it hotter.
James Bond: I am not your d-da…Quite.
Meg McTarry:
Heather McTarry:
Meg McTarry:
James Bond: Thank you.
Agent Mimi: To the laird!
All: To the laird!
Agent Mimi: To your right, Sir James…Lady Mary, daughter of Lord Douglas McTarry, raped by the Campbells in 1622. In retaliation of which, Lord Douglas sent his only son Hamish out to rape twa Campbell lassies.
James Bond: At the same t-t-t-time?
Agent Mimi: Eldest first, of course. As prescribed by scripture. The youngest bore him triplets. Their union being thus bounteously blessed, a contract of marriage was entered into, which brought the McTarrys Black Loch, Ben Torn, the Shags of Raugh, Glen Noch, and a good stretch of salmon water.
James Bond: All the best. I say, does she…?
James Bond: Good night, ladies.
Agent Mimi: Sleep I’ve had nane for thinkin’ on my dearie. All the long night I wake, grovelin’ in grief. Comfort me, Jamie lad. Gi’e me your bosom to weep on. Doodle me, Jamie.
James Bond: Really, madam!
Agent Mimi: I hereby claim my widow’s due according to McTarry tradition. Let me be comforted. Doodle me!
James Bond: A quaint custom, but one more honored in the, the breach than in the observance.
Agent Mimi: Then you’ll have to pay the piper!
James Bond: The p-piper?
Agent Mimi: You heard me, you mim-mou’d, ill-willie coof! You’ll have to pay the piper! Robin! Jacques! Sandy! You’ve been challenged to warsle with Sir James.
Robin: Ah. He wants to warsIe.
James Bond: I haven’t… warsled for years. I may be a little out of p-p-p-practice.
Agent Mimi: Play ball!
Agent Mimi:
Meg McTarry:
Agent Mimi:
Eliza McTarry:
Agent Mimi: Ha! Superbe! Formidable!
Eliza McTarry:
Agent Mimi: Splendide! Bravo! Magnifique. Mais…
James Bond: Surprising how qu-quickly it all c-comes back. Ah, well. A little b-beauty sleep before the grouse shoot, perhaps?
McTarry Girl: Beaters! Follow Marie over to the butts! Eliza, stay here with me for the countdown!
Agent Mimi: Oh, my love…is like a red, red rose…that’s newly sprung in June.
Spotter: Fire, Mission!
Controller: Roger.
Spotter: Fuse alarm missiles!
Controller: Roger.
Spotter: Supercharge!
Controller: Roger.
Spotter: Fire!
Agent Mimi: The button! The button! Oh, beloved!
James Bond: Ah. Good of you to join me.
Agent Mimi: The button! The button!
Spotter: She’s with him!
Agent Mimi: Magnetic! Homing device! Which button is it? Let me look!
James Bond: Ah. There’s a knife in my pocket.
Agent Mimi: See!
James Bond: Ah. Take off my braces.
Agent Mimi: Huh?
James Bond: My braces. And now, madam, if you’d be kind enough to furnish a few answers.
Agent Mimi: Our orders were to corrupt you, to befoul your image of yourself. Failing that, we were to kill you.
James Bond: I see.
Agent Mimi: Look! They’ve found the button.
James Bond: Who g-g-g-gave you these orders?
Agent Mimi: Authority. International Mothers’ Help, East Berlin.
James Bond: Jolly good sport, what? You’re wounded.
Agent Mimi: Tis but a thimbleful. But heart’s blood. Farewell, Jamie.
James Bond: My dear.
Agent Mimi: Oh! Again. Say it again. James Bond. My jo James. James Bond, my jo.
James Bond: My dear.
Agent Mimi: One more request. The last. Think of me as the second woman in your life. The one after Mata Hari. Kiss me, Jamie. Kiss me goodbye.
James Bond: Madam! Are you quite sure you’re dying?
Agent Mimi: Not dying… but giving up my life! I’m going to another world! There’s a convent over that hill.
Control Girl: Control to authority: Bond leaving Scotland now. Instructions understood.
Jag: Jag to Dairy. Contact in position. Get ready to deliver milk.
Control 1: Dairy to Jag. Understood. Stand by, Remote Control.
Control 2: Remote control ready.
Control 3: Speed ready. Distance ready.
Control 1: Start milk float.
Control 3: Contact.
Control 3: Distance 75 yards.
Control 2: Accelerating.
Control 1: Prime detonators.
Control 4: Check.
Control 2: Check.
Control 3: Gap has widened.
Control 2: 30 yards.
Control 1: Retract detonators.
Control 2: Check.
Control 4: Check.
Jag: Hold it. He’s too close.
Control 3: Dropping speed.
Control 1: Ignore Jag. Increase speed.
Control 4: Distance gauge failing.
Control 3: Vision failing. No vision.
Control 1: Switch to automatic control. Hello, Jag. Are you receiving me?
Jag: Drop speed! I’m in direct line! Jag to Dairy. Drop speed now!
Control 1: Hello, Jag. Come in, Jag. Detonators out.
Control 3: Out.
James Bond: Ts, ts, ts, ts, ts, ts.
James Bond: Good Lord! Moneypenny. You haven’t changed a bit.
Moneypenny: Actually, I’m Miss Moneypenny’s daughter.
James Bond: How is your dear mother?
Moneypenny: After you left the service, she took the vows.
James Bond: That seems to be the in thing to do these days. I must say, this place brings back a few memories.
Moneypenny: Yes, Mother told me some of them.
James Bond: She probably aIso told you that I’m partial to jasmine tea.
Moneypenny: Jasmine tea, sir?
James Bond: Lapsang Souchong. By the way, Moneypenny, since I came in here have you noticed me stammer?
Moneypenny: No, sir.
James Bond: Splendid, let me know if I do. I haven’t got time for that now.
Moneypenny: Uh, will you be needing me tonight, sir?
James Bond: Very probably. If I’m to take over this department, I have to know all of M’s secrets. Not his personal ones, of course. Hmm?
Hadley: May I say welcome back, Sir James.
James Bond: Ah. Thank you, um…
Hadley: Hadley, sir.
James Bond: Of course, Hadley. Now you were, uh…
Hadley: My father’s son, sir.
James Bond: That’s right, and where is your dear father now?
Hadley: The same place, sir.
James Bond: Well, that’s encouraging. You’d better bring me up to date. Who is on what assignment?
Hadley: Well, it’s not a very happy picture, sir.
James Bond: Why are the black fIags there?
Hadley: They’ve been liquidated, I’m afraid, sir. Uh, Finland…stabbed to death in a ladies’ sauna bath, sir. Uh, Madrid…burnt in a blazing bordello, sir. And Tokyo, sir…Garrotted in a geisha house.
James Bond: It’s depressing that the word “secret agent” has become synonymous with “sex maniac.” Incidentally, where is my namesake?
Hadley: We’ve had to take him off the board, sir. He’s now doing television.
James Bond: Oh. Why are the two flags here in the Caribbean?
Hadley: We’ve been out of contact for a month, sir. We’re not sure which one to leave.
James Bond: Who’s there?
Hadley: Your nephew, sir. Uh, Jimmy Bond.
James Bond: Oh. Rather a disappointment, I’m afraid…little Jimmy.
Jimmy Bond: Listen… You can’t shoot me. I, uh…I, uh I have a very low threshold of death. My doctor says I can’t have bullets enter my body at any time. I… I… uh… uh… oh… oh…What if I said I was pregnant? Oh, uh… Oh. Uh…Uh… C-could I have a Iast c-cigarette? I’m gonna give it up any day now I… Mmm.mmm thank you. Um… Oh. Um.
Soldier: Listos!
Jimmy Bond: Uh…You realize this means an angry letter to The Times!
Soldier: Apunten! Fuego!
Jimmy Bond: So long, suckers! Ha-ha-ha-ha!
Soldier: Apunten! Fuego!
Hadley: And so I think we’d better count him out, sir.
James Bond: Yes. Hadley, we’re up against an opposition of fiendish ingenuity. They make incredible use of women.
Hadley: Yes, they tend to nowadays, sir.
James Bond: Female spies harassed me in Scotland. Female spies chased me to London…We need an A.F.S.D.
Hadley: Sir?
James Bond: Anti-Female-Spy Device. We find the one man all women want, and then we train him not to want women.
Moneypenny: All our wantable agents have disappeared, sir.
James Bond: Ah, this is where you come in, Moneypenny. I want you to go through all the auxiIiary files.
Moneypenny: The lot, sir? It’ll take all night.
James Bond: Your mother did some of her best work at night.
Cooper: Shall we continue?
Moneypenny: Mhmm!
Moneypenny: And what is your name?
Cooper: Cooper, Big Eyes. But don’t be formal, call me Coop.
Moneypenny: Sounds like something for keeping birds.
Cooper: That’s me.
Moneypenny: I really have to note your qualifications.
Cooper: Height six-foot, two and a half, 184 pounds. Trophies for karate and judo, holder of the Kamasutra black belt.
Moneypenny: Very impressive. How do you spell that?
Cooper: I’II show you.
Moneypenny: I have to check 15 more auxiliaries in alphabetical…
Cooper: Good, we’ll call Mr. Zacharias and tell him not to wait up. The vacancy’s just been filled.
James Bond: A first-class performance, Cooper. Excellent. Excellent. Your primary statistics seem to fit the bill.
Cooper: We aim to please, sir.
James Bond: You will start your A.F.S.D. training immediateIy. Moneypenny, get a few dozen girls for Cooper to start with. Moneypenny.
Moneypenny: Ugh, a few dozen girls…
Cooper: I appreciate your confidence, sir.
James Bond: From now on, all remaining agents and trainees will be known as James Bond 007, including the girls.
Cooper: Won’t that be rather confusing, sir?
James Bond: The enemy won’t know which way to turn. You are now James Bond.
Moneypenny: Congratulations, 007.
Cooper: And you, 007. Uh, sir.
James Bond: Good hunting, 007.
Lorelei: Doesn’t that do something to you, 007?
Cooper: It does. But I’m being trained to ignore it. Beauty’s only skin deep.
Lorelei: How about some skin diving?
Cooper: Not today, Lorelei. Right. Ting-Ling.
Ting-Ling: You know that every fifth child born in the world is Chinese?
Cooper: Tell them from now they’ll have to keep it up without me.
Ting-Ling: Oh, why are you so inscrutable? I thought that was supposed to be our racket.
Cooper: You might be a doubIe agent.
Ting-Ling: What wouId you do if I was?
Cooper: Whether you are or whether you’re not, sayonara. Next. Shirley. You’re not Shirley.
The Detainer: No. I’m the new secret weapon. And I’ve just been perfected.
Cooper: Yes, haven’t you?
The Detainer: They’ve kept me under wraps.
Cooper: Lucky them. What do you do that’s so secret?
The Detainer: I don’t do anything. But unless you’re one of them, you do. Hey! You’re really learning to put up quite a resistance.
Cooper: Goes against my nature, you know,
The Detainer: I sense that too. What are you doing after the exercise?
Cooper: Getting my head examined.
Analyst 1: Our security man in Delhi tells us gold will be up two points by midday tomorrow.
Vesper Lynd: Buy gold.
Analyst 2: The French say that you can have it. But it will cost you three nuclear warheads.
Vesper Lynd: Offer two.
Analyst 3: Your offer for Rockefeller Center has been accepted.
Vesper Lynd: Sell it. I’ve changed my mind. I like London. What about Lord Nelson’s statue?
Analyst 2: It was delivered today, Miss Lynd.
James Bond: My dear Miss Lynd.
Vesper Lynd: Who are you, sir?
James Bond: I am Sir James Bond.
Vesper Lynd: But I thought you were retired, Sir James.
James Bond: The whole world believes you were eaten by a shark, Miss Lynd.
Vesper Lynd: That was no shark, that was my personal submarine. But enough of this polite conversation. What is the purpose of your visit?
James Bond: I desperately need your help.
Vesper Lynd: My dear Sir James, I hardly ever undertake assignments these days.
James Bond: I can see why, but I think I can persuade you to undertake this one.
Vesper Lynd: Your reputation is remarkable. But believe me when I say I save all my energies for business.
James Bond: Hehehe…I have here a writ for just over £5 million tax arrears. If you were to be cooperative, Miss Lynd, I could arrange easy payments and a substantial discount?
Vesper Lynd: Uh…Perhaps we should discuss this matter in comfort, Sir James.
James Bond: Ah, thank you. What a charming outfit that is. Do you often wear that in the office?
Vesper Lynd: If I wore it in the street, people might stare. You said, Sir James, you needed my help.
James Bond: Yes, I did, didn’t I? I have a dossier on a man who works at the Buckingham Club. His name is Evelyn Tremble.
Vesper Lynd: Mr. Evelyn Tremble?
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, that’s right.
Vesper Lynd: Isn’t Evelyn a girl’s name?
Evelyn Tremble: No, it’s mine, actually. Do you know me from somewhere?
Vesper Lynd: Your book: Tremble On Baccarat. I’ve studied it very closely. At night. In my bed.
Evelyn Tremble: Is that where you study it?
Vesper Lynd: There are several passes you describe in your book, which I don’t fuIIy understand.
Evelyn Tremble: Which passes are these?
Vesper Lynd: Oh, they’re all marked. I would have to have my book. Your book.
Evelyn Tremble: And my book is in…
Vesper Lynd: My bed.
Evelyn Tremble: You’re winning tonight.
Vesper Lynd: I’ll send my car for you.
Vesper Lynd: Yes?
Evelyn Tremble: Hello. It’s me, Evelyn Tremble.
Vesper Lynd: Oh, hello, Mr. Tremble. Can you hold on for a moment? Eric? Don’t forget to empty the deep freeze first thing in the morning, okay? Ooh, hello, Mr. Tremble. I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, but I was just seeing someone off. Come right up, all right?
Evelyn Tremble: Thank you.
Vesper Lynd: Bye-bye.
Vesper Lynd: So nice of you to come.
Evelyn Tremble: My pleasure.
Vesper Lynd: This way.
Dusty Springfield: The look of love
Is in your eyes
A look your smile can’t disguise
The look of love
It’s saying so much more
Than just words could ever say
And what my heart has heard
Well, it takes my breath away
I can hardly wait to hold you
Feel my arms around you
How long I have waited
Waited just to love you
Now that I have found you
You’ve got the look of love
It’s on your face
The look that time can’t erase
Vesper Lynd: Hello.
Evelyn Tremble: That’s, uh… That’s Lord Nelson, isn’t it?
Vesper Lynd: Yes. Isn’t he beautiful?
Evelyn Tremble: Yes.
Vesper Lynd: And do you know what he said?
Evelyn Tremble: What?
Vesper Lynd: “England expects every man to do his duty.”
Evelyn Tremble: So he did, yes. But, um…This is Mayfair. Lord Nelson’s in Trafalgar Square, surely.
Vesper Lynd: No, not any more. He’s mine. Haven’t you read the papers today?
Evelyn Tremble: I don’t normally get them quite so early.
Vesper Lynd: I get ’em before they’re printed.
Evelyn Tremble: I suppose you can do anything if you have money.
Vesper Lynd: Why don’t you come down to me?
Evelyn Tremble: Thank you very much. Lovely place you’ve got down there.
Vesper Lynd: Sit here. I do so like to feel comfortable whatever I’m doing.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, yes indeed. Yes. The more relaxed the muscles, the better the synchronization between mind and body.
Vesper Lynd: I should think you’re frightfully synchronized, Mr. Tremble. Martini?
Evelyn Tremble: What about them?
Vesper Lynd: I was just about to offer you one. The things I didn’t understand too well in your book. Let me see…Was it in chapter seven or chapter six?
Evelyn Tremble: Chapter six probably. Though of course…it couId have been chapter seven. Have you got the book or is it… still in your bed?
Vesper Lynd: I believe it is.
Evelyn Tremble: Well, we’d better go right through the book, hadn’t we? Do you get many complaints from the neighbors?
Vesper Lynd: Do you really think that your system is completely faultless?
Evelyn Tremble: Which system?
Vesper Lynd: Your system for winning at baccarat.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, yes. The, um…Evelyn Tremble system is…faultless.
Vesper Lynd: Good. Come on. We have more to do.
Evelyn Tremble: More?
Vesper Lynd: I Iike a man who is able to retain his own personality, no matter what the circumstances.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, yes.
Vesper Lynd: No matter how he’s dressed. You know what they say. It’s the clothes that make the man. And if we’re gonna work together, I have to know what kind of a man you are.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, I thought you might have gathered a little from, uh…
Vesper Lynd: If you can spare the time I want to see what happens when you put on a different hat, a costume. You know, that sort of thing.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh. Oh, you like that sort of thing, eh?
Vesper Lynd: You’ll find some clothes in there. Put them on.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, eh…If you think it’s really necessary.
Vesper Lynd: Unless you’d Iike to go around one more time.
Evelyn Tremble: One more time? Oh…There is nothing wrong with the British Army that a damn good swim won’t cure.
Vesper Lynd: Now. Evelyn Tremble. 38 years old, born in Highgate.
Evelyn Tremble: Hello, sailor. The wrong one, yes?
Vesper Lynd: Perfect. Distinguishing birthmark, little scar on right shoulder, strawberry-shaped birthmark on left thigh.
Evelyn Tremble: Well, there’s nothing unusual in that.
Vesper Lynd: No. I myself have an apricot one on my hip.
Evelyn Tremble: Well, I’II show you my strawberry if you’ll show me your apricot.
Vesper Lynd: Author of a book on baccarat. Have you ever heard of a man called Le Chiffre?
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, yes. An excellent card player. He once wrote me a fan letter.
Vesper Lynd: Ooh! Keep your hands there. Perfect. Lovely.
Evelyn Tremble: I devoted a chapter to him in my book. His forte is baccarat.
Vesper Lynd: Besides baccarat, he deals in lechery.
Evelyn Tremble: Well, nobody’s perfect.
Vesper Lynd: Do you think, uh, you can win against Le Chiffre?
Evelyn Tremble: Well, you’ll remember that in order to operate my system completely free of risk, a stake of £100,000 is required.
Vesper Lynd: Oh, yes, I remember. Stand still.
Evelyn Tremble: Huh?
Vesper Lynd: I’m gonna give you…a 500th at F2.
Evelyn Tremble: That’s the nicest thing that anyone’s ever said to me.
Vesper Lynd: What would you say if I offered to stake you in a game against Le Chiffre?
Evelyn Tremble: What?
Vesper Lynd: I put up the money, you play the game and we split 50-50.
Evelyn Tremble: Hmmm…I think I’ll go now if you don’t mind.
Vesper Lynd: What’s wrong?
Evelyn Tremble: I enjoyed the earlier part of this evening very much. I shall always remember the, uh, pleasure of your company. I didn’t even mind this dressing-up bit. But I do mind bloody unnecessary jokes about the one thing I really know well.
Vesper Lynd: Listen Evelyn, I’m serious. It’s because you really know about baccarat that I’m not joking. You said you needed £100,000?
Evelyn Tremble: Mm.
Vesper Lynd: It’s yours.
Evelyn Tremble: That’s fantastic! Oh, but Iook here, I mean…Old Le Chiffre would never agree to play me. He’s read my book. He’d recognize my name.
Vesper Lynd: No, no. Not any more.
Evelyn Tremble: Why?
Vesper Lynd: We have chosen a new name for you.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh?
Vesper Lynd: James Bond.
Announcer: Welcome to the James Bond 007 training school.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, it’s a small Minnox camera, isn’t it?
Q: Security, sir.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, a friend of mine’s got one of those.
Q: Eh, yes, It’s Mr. Bond, isn’t it?
Evelyn Tremble: Uh, yes.
Q: If you’d be good enough to sign here, sir. It’s not for me. It’s for the Official Secrets Act.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, of course.
Sergeant Major: Eyes…hup! Hyah! Hup!
Q: Carry on, Sergeant Major.
Sergeant Major: Yes, sir. Mark time! Halt! About turn.
Evelyn Tremble: You really do stock everything at Harrod’s, don’t you?
Q: Oh, I shouldn’t pay to much attention to what you see going on here. It’s all basic stuff.
Evelyn Tremble: Uh.
Q: It’ll be out of date by the January sales.
Johnson: Ya! Ya!
Q: Good morning, Johnson.
Johnson: Sir!
Evelyn Tremble: Uh…ooh! May I tell you something? I’m being followed.
Q: Oh, yes I know. It’s part of the training. Shadowing people without being seen.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, but the whole point of this is I can quite clearly see the man who is shadowing me.
Q: Oh! Him. You don’t want to worry about him. He’s not one of our trainees. He’s our security man.
Evelyn Tremble: I see.
Q: Ah, good morning, Inspector. Don’t let me interrupt you.
Inspector: On the command, the head is turned thus, the hat is aimed thus, the gun is fired thus.
Q: Yes, we’re…still working on that one. Now to Agents’ Outfitting. Ah. Here we are.
Fordyce: Morning, Q.
Q: Good morning, Fordyce. New man.
Fordyce: Mmmm! If I could bother you for the signature, sir…
Evelyn Tremble: Signature, yes.
Fordyce: I shouIdn’t use that pen, sir. The moment the nib touches the, uh, paper it releases a stream of poisonous gas into the writer’s eye.
Evelyn Tremble: Good heavens! What’ll they think of next? I won’t be going near that. I suppose it’d come in quite useful if you ever wanted to send anyone a…
Evelyn Tremble:/Fordyce/Q: …poison-pen letter.
Q: Yes, all our new men say that. I usually reply, “I don’t wish to know that. Kindly leave MI5.”
Fordyce: Yes, sir. We have a very highly developed sense of humor down here.
Q: It isn’t the only thing that’s highly developed down here. Fordyce!
Fordyce: Sir?
Q: Wristwatch.
Fordyce: Sir?
Evelyn Tremble: Mmm? Oh.
Fordyce: 1965 Rolex Oyster Perpetual. Date indicator and log table around the outer band.
Evelyn Tremble: And a thing that shows you what shape the moon is.
Fordyce: Lovely!
Q: Now, this is very important. Try it on.
Evelyn Tremble: Hmm?
Q: Let me help you.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, thank you,
Q: It’s your means of reporting to us and our means of contacting you. Now…channel 6! Fordyce.
Fordyce: Don’t worry too much about him, sir. Channel six it is, sir.
Evelyn Tremble: They all look the same.
Fordyce: I don’t think I know which one is which myself now, sir.
Evelyn Tremble: No, no.
Q: Now, look at your watch and teII me what you see.
Evelyn Tremble: It’s five and 20 minutes past 11. It’s the 14th of March and…
Q: I said channeI six, Fordyce.
Fordyce: Well, nobody’s perfect.
Evelyn Tremble: That is absolutely amazing! I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s just as if we were in the same room.
Q: It’s a two-way television and radio wristwatch. It’s, uh, an American idea. They got it from one of their comic strips.
Evelyn Tremble: Good heavens.
Q: Ah! Tea.
Man: Three lumps.
Q: It’s an incredible thing, this.
Fordyce: Uh, which side do you, uh… dress, sir?
Evelyn Tremble: Uh, I usually dress away from the window.
Q: It’s just some, uh, protective cIothing, sir.
Evelyn Tremble: I see.
Fordyce: Let me, uh, help you out of your hampering things.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh.
Fordyce: And it is of course Sanforized, sir, non-iron, and also available in chocolate, oyster or clerical grey. It’s hand-reefed and of course double-charvered.
Evelyn Tremble: Is it? Hm. This seems to be a little bit tight around the the, uh…
Q: Poison capsule compartment?
Evelyn Tremble: Yes.
Fordyce: Well I’m sure we can, uh, let it out above the uh, switch, uh, blade and uh, combined Geiger counter down there.
Q: Do what you can, Fordyce. Now, your intercom button’s in here, with midget transmitters suitable for short-range contacts. Uh, there’s an infrared camera in here, a tape recorder in the shouIder padding, a Beretta in the buttonhole. Buttonhole, Fordyce. Oh, and a cute little minigun in the gusset.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes. Um, just one thing. What happens if I suddenly need to go somewhere?
Fordyce: In this, sir? You’ll find safety instructions under the left lapel.
Q: Oh, don’t worry. You’re in…very good hands here.
Fordyce: Mm… Now this won’t hurt a bit, sir.
James Bond: “Who g-g-gave you these orders?”
Mimi: “International Mothers’ Help, East Berlin.”
James Bond: Well there it is, Hadley. Our only clue. The voice of a beautiful woman.
Hadley: We’ve checked it out, sir. International Mothers’ Help is a Smersh cover operation, sir. It supplies babysitters and au pair girls to some of the most important families.
James Bond: Then it must be infiltrated by someone absolutely reliable.
Hadley: I hope you weren’t thinking of me, sir.
James Bond: As a matter of fact, I was thinking of Mata.
Hadley: You can’t mean Mata Hari, sir.
James Bond: No, her daughter, Mata Bond.
Hadley: Mata Bond, sir?
James Bond: Yes, her mother gave her that name because I happen to be the child’s sort of godfather.
Hadley: And to think that you knew Mata Hari, sir! She really was one of the greats.
James Bond: Yes. Great little dancer, terrible spy. Whereas young Mata is a terrible dancer. Might be a great little spy.
James Bond: It’s uncanny. Quite uncanny. What memories it brings back. Paris, Berlin, Vienna. How madly we danced through the night. I was disguised as a Hungarian hussar…
Mata Bond: What are you going on about?
James Bond: You’re the very image of your mother and every bit as beautiful.
Mata Bond: You knew my mum?
James Bond: I am Sir James Bond.
Mata Bond: Daddy!
James Bond: My child!
Mata Bond: Snail’s egg?
James Bond: No, thank you. They don’t agree with me.
Mata Bond: Well. You’re a charmer, aren’t you? Dump me in an orphanage when I’m three years old, and now, because you need me…
James Bond: Well, it really was very difficult, you see, at that time, my career was at its height…
Mata Bond: Well it was a traumatic experience, I can tell you. You know it’s no joke being the illegitimate daughter of Mata Hari and James Bond.
James Bond: Still, you do get my monthIy paychecks?
Mata Bond: Your monthly paychecks went on analysts’ fees. That’s why I came here. I had to get away from it all.
James Bond: I am sorry, I had no idea. WeII, I must say, you seem to be very comfortable here.
Mata Bond: Oh, it’s crazy. You want a drag?
James Bond: No, thank you. I’m trying to give that up. Who are all these people?
Mata Bond: They’re the high priests of the temple. Okay, Fred. Up it!
Fred: Ah jung! Ah mor!
James Bond: Extraordinary performance. They seem to treat you like some kind of a goddess.
Mata Bond: Well, I am the Celestial Virgin of the Sacred Altar.
James Bond: Figuratively speaking, of course.
Mata Bond: Of course. Some tea.
James Bond: Ah, a cup of tea. Splendid.
Mata Bond: It’s made from poppy seeds. Two cups of this and you’re stoned out of your mind.
James Bond: Thank you.
Mata Bond: You know, if you weren’t my dad…I think I could fancy you.
James Bond: Well, that’s very good of you, my dear. Rather warm in here, don’t you think?
Mata Bond: Cool it, Charlie! So you want me to go to Berlin, huh?
James Bond: Now, Mata. You remember the old house on the Feldmannstrasse?
Mata Bond: Yeah where Mum had her dancing school.
James Bond: That has now become International Mothers’ Help. But that’s just a cover for its real function. It is…Does he speak English?
Mata Bond: Hey, Charlie. Speak English?
High Priest: No.
James Bond: Good. It is a training center for what are commonly referred to as spies. Now your qualifications make you eminently suited to infiltrate the organization. Two weeks’ briefing in London and you’re off to Berlin.
Mata Bond: Oh! You want me to be a spy like Mum, huh? Well…
James Bond: Family tradition, my dear.
Mata Bond: Do I get an exploding briefcase and a secret transmitter?
James Bond: Haha that won’t be necessary.
Mata Bond: Well, I have to have some equipment.
James Bond: Your mother wiped out three divisions of infantry and five brigades of cavalry and…Well, frankly, she had much less equipment than you have.
Hadley: If you have any problems, you must contact London immediately. Now are there any questions?
Mata Bond: Well, I have got one question.
Hadley: Yes?
Mata Bond: How do I get to Berlin?
Hadley: Haha, dear! Silly me. Taxi!
Taxi Driver: Where to?
Hadley: Berlin.
Taxi Driver: East or West?
Mata Bond: West, of course!
Taxi Driver: Oh, well, that’s all right, then.
Mata Bond: Oh! Would you say goodbye to Dad for me?
Hadley: Yes, well have a good trip! Jolly good luck!
Driver: Get out of it, you lunatic! What are you trying to do? Come on! Move. Get out of it. Get out the way! Go on!
Taxi Driver: That’ll be £482, 15 and 9 pence.
Mata Bond: Well, you’ll have to wait.
Taxi Driver: Wait, look, I’ve been caught like that before for supper time. Haven’t had my dinner yet!
Mata Bond: Well, I don’t have any change.
Taxi Driver: Oh, here we go! Oi! Oi! What about my dinner then, eh? What a liberty, you see that? Any fish and chip shops ’round here, mush?
Frau Hoffner: Who are you? What do you want?
Mata Bond: I’m, uh…here to enroll as a student.
Frau Hoffner: What are your qualifications, mm?
Mata Bond: I am the daughter of Mata Hari.
Polo: M-Mata Hari!
Frau Hoffner: You are a liar.
Mata Bond: Am I? Well, what about this, then?
Polo: Hehehe It’s my, my little Mata Hari! I told you she’d come back!
Frau Hoffner: Silence! Or I will switch you off.
Polo: Oh! Not that! Anything but that.
Frau Hoffner: You’re even more fascinating than your mother.
Mata Bond: You must be Frau Hoffner, Mum’s teacher.
Frau Hoffner: I had that honor.
Mata Bond: You must be Polo.
Polo: She remembers me, her little Polo. She remembers me.
Frau Hoffner: Welcome home, my child.
Polo: Welcome indeed…
Frau Hoffner: Stop!
Frau Hoffner: The Mata Hari School of Dancing is the only truly international school of espionage in the world.
Polo: In the world.
Frau Hoffner: There is no political prejudice here.
Polo: Prejudice.
Frau Hoffner: We train Russian spies for America…
Polo: America.
Frau Hoffner: …and American spies for Russia.
Mata Bond: Very democratic.
Frau Hoffner: Very democratic. Some of the greatest spies in the world have graduated from this institution. Von Grudendorf, Malenvosky…
Polo: Peter Lorre, Bela Lugosi.
Frau Hoffner: Here we have the decoding and cipher class.
Women Talking Over Each Other: A1! 2! A1! 3! B2! 4! B2! 7. B7. 5, 4.
Polo: We are even training animals as espionage agents.
Mata Bond: Oh, really?
Polo: At this moment we have in the Kremlin a Russian-speaking parrot who is in constant radio communication with the Pentagon.
Mata Bond: Fantastic!
Frau Hoffner: Und here is our class in karate und self-defense.
People Fighting and Talking Over Each Other: Ya! Ya! Hi-yah!
Frau Hoffner: If you’ll excuse me. I have an important conference to attend. Polo, you will show Mata to her room.
Polo: Please, follow me. Mata? Allow me.
Mata Bond: Thank you.
Polo: Follow me. My…my battery needs recharging!
Mata Bond: Might be your head needs examining.
Polo: No, I had that examined last week. This is your mother’s room. It has not been opened since the day she left here in 1916. You see? Nothing has been touched.
Mata Bond: It’s a wild room. Hey, what an enormous bed!
Polo: The German army was very large in those days. Ah! To see you standing here in your mother’s room brings back such happy memories.
Mata Bond: Here…what’s all this about…an important conference, hmm?
Polo: Psst! A representative of Le Chiffre is coming. Tonight.
Mata Bond: Who is Le Chiffre?
Polo: Nobody knows. Not even Le Chiffre.
Mata Bond: Aha! What’s the conference about then, hmm?
Polo: Le Chiffre is trying to raise money by selling his unique art collection.
Mata Bond: Why does he need money?
Polo: He’s a compulsive gambIer, that’s why. Und he is using organization funds for his gambling!
Mata Bond: You mean… Smersh?
Polo: Smersh! Shh! If he does not pay off his debts…he will be liquidated.
Mata Bond: Liquidated? Who by?
Polo: By them.
Mata Bond: You mean… Shh!
Polo: Shh! You’re so like your mother. You’re driving me mad.
Mata Bond: Well, you haven’t got far to go.
Polo: Come to me! Come to me, my little Mata. Come to me! Come!
Mata Bond: Bout time you were, uh, back in your box, innit?
Polo: You must forgive me. I Iose control of myself. I’m a mad fool. Mad!
Mata Bond: You want an argument?
Polo: Remember, forget everything I tell you.
Mata Bond: My lips are sealed.
Polo: Lips! Don’t say such words.
Mata Bond: Run along, son. Le Chiffre… Mm-hm.
Mata Bond: It’s the first john I’ve ever gone round with.
Frau Hoffner: Ah, there you are. I have been looking for you. Mm… It is little Otto.
Mata Bond: Who is he?
Frau Hoffner: He was one of your mother’s lovers. We often find them lying around.
Mata Bond: Is he dead?
Frau Hoffner: Hard to tell. He always looked like that. Come along, child. The auction is about to begin.
Mata Bond: Auction?
Frau Hoffner: Tonight we are selling one of the finest art collections in Europe.
Mata Bond: Le Chiffre’s collection.
Frau Hoffner: Who?
Mata Bond: Le Chiffre.
Frau Hoffner: Who is Le Chiffre?
Mata Bond: The man who owns the collection.
Frau Hoffner: What art collection?
Mata Bond: The collection that’s about to be auctioned.
Frau Hoffner: Who said anything about an auction?
Mata Bond: You did.
Frau Hoffner: Who am I?
Mata Bond: Frau Hoffner.
Frau Hoffner: Never heard of her. You’re insane, my child. Quite insane.
Mata Bond: I think she’s right.
Announcer: Gentlemen! You may please take your seats and the auction will commence.
Auctioneer: Thank you. Gentlemen, I am here tonight on behalf of my client Le Chiffre, of whom you’ve all have heard, to offer by auction this unique collection of art treasures. Are there any specific bidding instructions?
Russian Representative: Our instructions are that when we are sitting, we are bidding. When we are standing, we are not bidding.
American Representative: We’ll do our bidding sitting down. When we’re standing up, we’re not bidding.
Chinese Representative: We stand, we bid. We no stand, we no bid.
Auctioneer: And, uh, the British representatives?
British Representative: Well, I-I don’t know actually. Sort of, a bit of both, I suppose, really. Is that all right with you chaps?
British Representative 2: That’s fine.
Auctioneer: Very well, gentlemen. Now then. Gentlemen, this is an extraordinarily embarrassing item, one of the classic blackmail items of all time. What am I bid for this priceless picture?
British Representative 2: Fourteen pounds, ten.
Russian Representative: Three hundred rubles.
Auctioneer: Three hundred rubles!
American Representative: Thousand dollars.
Auctioneer: One thousand dollars!
Chinese Representative: Two million Chinese dollars.
Auctioneer: Two million Chinese dollars! Look at this masterpiece, gentlemen. Surely we can do better than that.
Taxi Driver: Psst! Here, what about my fare?
Mata Bond: Get out!
Taxi Driver: Here!
Mata Bond: Stop it!
Taxi Driver: Whatever you do, you must not let Le Chiffre raise the money.
Mata Bond: Who are you?
Taxi Driver: I’m Carleton Towers of the F.O.
Mata Bond: F.O.?
Taxi Driver: The Foreign Office, dear.
Mata Bond: Wait outside and keep the motor running.
Taxi Driver: Righty-o!
American Representative: Two hundred thousand American dollars!
British Representative 2: One hundred thousand pounds!
Soviet Representative: A wagonload of vodka!
Chinese Representative: Seventy million tons of rice!
Russian Representative: Sixty tons of caviar!
Chinese Representative: Thirty million trucks!
American Representative: Hey! It’s war! Hello! Hello! Get me the Pentagon!
British Representative 2: Hey, Fenella? Look, I’m afraid I shan’t be able to get back for dinner. Huh? Well, a sort of war’s broken out.
Polo: You should not have done this thing. Now, I will have to kill you.
Mata Bond: Ohhh…
Polo: What…what are you doing to me? What?
Mata Bond: Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh.
Polo: No! Positive, negative… never know which is which.
Frau Hoffner: Give me those films. Oh!
Auctioneer: She’s got the films! Grab her! Get her! Get her!
Soldier: Ow! Now look here!
Taxi Driver: Taxi!
Mata Bond: Tally-ho! Ow!
Taxi Driver: I’m sorry, madam!
Mata Bond: Let me go! Taxi!
Taxi Driver: Over here! Here I am! Come on!
British Representative 2: Good Lord! Captain Towers!
Taxi Driver: How nice to see you.
Mata Bond: Ooh! This way!
Female Singer: “What’s new, pussycat? Woh woh-a-woh-oh…”
Taxi Driver: No, no! Down. No.
Taxi Driver: Where to, miss?
Mata Bond: London!
Taxi Driver: Oh, good show!
Le Chiffre: Le Chiffre speaking.
Auctioneer: The whole scheme was a failure. And also Dr. Noah knows what you’ve been up to. What now?
Le Chiffre: I’ll just have to… raise the money.
Auctioneer: But how?
Le Chiffre: How? By playing baccarat.
Auctioneer: But, but, Le Chiffre, what about me? What’s going to happen to me?
Agent: Thank you. And welcome to France, Monsieur Bond.
Q: We don’t want our little taIk to be overheard. Get in the car.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, there’s nothing to talk about, is there?
Q: Perhaps. Perhaps not. The point is you must not allow yourseIf to become involved. Don’t forget there are many people here who loathe and despise you. I have to warn you, Bond, my instructions are that you play your game with Le Chiffre and leave immediately.
James Bond: No one can be such a perverse idiot as to assault a customs official. It must be deliberate.
Moneypenny: It may just be natural talent, sir.
James Bond: I have to warn Vesper.
Moneypenny: You mean James Bond 007, sir.
James Bond: Yes, yes, yes.
James Bond: Vesper? James Bond 007?
Vesper Lynd: Hello, Sir James. Yes, I’m here.
James Bond: I can’t see you. Your picture’s gone.
Vesper Lynd: No, it hasn’t. I was just about getting into the bath.
James Bond: Vesper, do you think Tremble could be a double agent?
Vesper Lynd: He has enough trouble being a single agent. Leave him to me.
James Bond: Right. Over and out.
Miss Goodthighs: Mr. Bond? Missed, Mr. Bond.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes…
Miss Goodthighs: I am Miss Goodthighs.
Evelyn Tremble: I can see that. You’ve got your cork still in your bottle.
Miss Goodthighs: So I have. What are you going to do about it?
Evelyn Tremble: Stick your arm out.
Miss Goodthighs: The management of the Hotel Tropical present their compliments, and hope you will enjoy your stay with us.
Evelyn Tremble: Mmm…I see.
Miss Goodthighs: Mmm…Very sexy pants you’re wearing, James.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, they’re the new doubIe-0 fronts. Tell me, Miss, uh, Goodthighs, how much did you tip the porter to let you in here?
Miss Goodthighs: I just showed him a little kindness.
Evelyn Tremble: How much?
Miss Goodthighs: Not too much. He’s 83.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh. It’s a good year. So…What can I do for you?
Miss Goodthighs: The question should be what can I do for you?
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, have you got any suggestions?
Miss Goodthighs: This, for one. Tell me about yourself, James.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, well. I’ve had some pretty wild times in my life. Um…Could you move over a bit? You’re lying on my loose change.
Miss Goodthighs: Mmm James, I need you.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, yes, yes. Well, I can understand that, my dear. I can understand that.
Miss Goodthighs: I want to know you better.
Evelyn Tremble: You’re absolutely right. My goodness, this is strong shampoo. This really is. Look, I think I’d better freshen up a bit quick. I’ll, uh, be back in five minutes. If I’m not, start without me.
Male Vocalist: James Bond playing at Casino Royale
He won a lot of money and a gal at Casino Royale
Oh, he’s not really such a wonderful spy
But winning lots of money and a gal, he’s a fabulous guy
Vesper Lynd: Evelyn! Evelyn! Evelyn! Evelyn! Evelyn! Evelyn! Evelyn, wake up! Up!
Evelyn Tremble: Huh? Huh? Huh?
Vesper Lynd: Evelyn, what’s the matter? Wake up! You were drugged!
Evelyn Tremble: What?
Vesper Lynd: You were drugged.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, I-I-I know I was drugged. I put the antidote pill in. And then…Hey! I thought those antidote pills were supposed to give me 24-hour protection! Complete protection her told me! I’ve got to get Sir James Bond…
Vesper Lynd: Oh, there is no time for such…Oh, Evelyn, look at you! You’re wearing your glasses and you know you’re not supposed to do that! James Bond doesn’t wear glasses.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, I, but I…It’s just that I like to see who I’m shooting.
Vesper Lynd: There are only a few hours Ieft before the game. Now, get freshened up, huh?
Evelyn Tremble: Here, what about Miss Goodthighs?
Vesper Lynd: Don’t worry. I took care of her. Now concentrate on the game.
Evelyn Tremble: Vesper, I’ve given this game a lot of thought. And when I go into that casino tonight, I’m going to sit down opposite Le Chiffre, look him straight in the eye and say…YOW-HOO-HOO! HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!
Le Chiffre: La-da-dee da-da-dum…La-da-dee
Gambler: No cards.
Croupier: Neuf à la banque.
Woman: It’s amazing! He never loses!
Croupier: La banque gagne. La partie est terminée.
Le Chiffre: Quiet. Absolute silence, please. For this experiment, I require the assistance of a young lady from the audience, any lady at all. You, madam. Look me in the eyes! And you, Georges, keep your eyes on my chips. I present you with the levitation of the Princess Ayisha…an illusion taught to me by an ancient vegetarian…in the mountain fastnesses of Tibet. She feels no pain. My assistants will enshroud the young lady in this perfectly ordinary paisley shawl. Now will you all…place your hands on the table? Now let’s get the show off the ground. Keep your hand in place, madam, and continue to ascend…into thin air. Don’t take your eyes from her! Not one of you! It is by your perfect concentration that the young lady remains floating in thin air. Oh, excuse me, madam. Sorry to keep you hanging around! Hahaha!
Cashier: Ah, monsieur. You wish to make a deposit?
Evelyn Tremble: Yes.
Cashier: Eh, how much?
Evelyn Tremble: £100,000 sterIing.
Cashier: One hundred thou…
Evelyn Tremble: You can keep the case with my compliments.
Cashier: Why, thank you, monsieur. Uh, could we have the name, please?
Evelyn Tremble: Bond. James Bond.
Cashier: James B…James Bond?
Vesper Lynd: Yes, James Bond.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, James Bond.
Cashier: I wonder if you’d be kind enough to sign, uh, my autograph book. It’s not for me, you understand. It’s, um, my little sister.
Evelyn Tremble: I wonder if you’d be kind enough to put your autograph on that receipt for the £100,000 sterling, please.
Cashier: But of course, Mr. Bond.
Evelyn Tremble: It’s not for me, it’s for somebody else. Now what happens?
Vesper Lynd: First, we go to the casino director’s office.
Evelyn Tremble: Point me. Just point me.
Vesper Lynd: What’s the matter?
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, nothing. Just a bit different from the Buckingham Club, that’s all.
Lieutenant Mathis: Bond has arrived.
Slymington Jones: Bond is here. All staff on the alert. Come in.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh! Hello, how nice to see you again.
Lieutenant Mathis: How are you?
Evelyn Tremble: May I introduce…
Lieutenant Mathis: We have met.
Slymington Jones: We’ve met, uh,
Lieutenant Mathis: Mr. SIymington-Jones, Mr. James Bond.
Slymington Jones: How do you do? Do make yourself comfortable.
Evelyn Tremble: I, uh, see you’ve put a tiger in your office.
Slymington Jones: Yes. I have several actually. That one that you so cleverly spotted, the head on the wall over there, and the one you’re about to trip over. Do be careful.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes.
Vesper Lynd: The man in the white coat is Le Chiffre. Oh! Don’t be afraid. It’s a one-way mirror.
Evelyn Tremble: Which way?
Vesper Lynd: That way.
Player: No card.
Croupier: No card. Neuf à la banque.
Slymington Jones: Mr. Bond. You can watch Le Chiffre better on here. He’s bought the bank for the evening, and he’s winning consistently. And showing off with his magic throughout.
Vesper Lynd: Why the dark glasses?
Evelyn Tremble: Here.
Vesper Lynd: So if Le Chiffre wears the same kind of glasses, he knows every card on the table!
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, yes, infrared glasses.
Vesper Lynd: What a cheat! Listen, Evelyn. You win and Le Chiffre will almost certainly be killed by his organization.
Evelyn Tremble: But he’d try and avoid that, wouldn’t he?
Vesper Lynd: If you win, yes.
Evelyn Tremble: How?
Vesper Lynd: By trying to kill you.
Evelyn Tremble: As in dead?
Vesper Lynd: Yes! But don’t worry about that now. Let’s go down there and you play the game of your life!
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, I better had. May not be too much more of it left. Hmm. Vesper…
Vesper Lynd: Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.
Evelyn Tremble: Well, then. It’s all under control now.
Lieutenant Mathis: I hope so.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes. Well, excuse me.
Slymington Jones: Willingly.
Croupier: Messieurs, faites vos jeux.
Evelyn Tremble: I believe you have my name in a crevice. James Bond.
Croupier: Pardon, monsieur?
Evelyn Tremble: Uh, Bond hmhmmm…James Bond.
Croupier: Oh, yes, Mr. Bond.
Le Chiffre: Bond? James Bond? The name is familiar.
Evelyn Tremble: I don’t believe I’ve had the…pleasure. Although, I’m flattered you’ve heard of me.
Le Chiffre: I have heard of you, but not as an expert on baccarat.
Evelyn Tremble: Well, I’m sorry you weren’t told.
Le Chiffre: Do you think that went unnoticed, Mr. Bond? I see everything that goes on at this table. Nothing escapes me.
Evelyn Tremble: I’m quite sure it doesn’t. But you know, we mustn’t forget that “the beggar who is sitting in the marketplace is completely deaf insomuch as far as listening to the song that is coming from the mockingbird is concerned.”
Le Chiffre: I’m sorry, Mr. Bond, I don’t get the connection.
Evelyn Tremble: Ah! You will, you will.
Le Chiffre: Sim sala bim.
Evelyn Tremble: When you’re quite ready.
Le Chiffre: For my next experiment, I require the use of a perfectly ordinary gentleman’s pocket handkerchief.
Evelyn Tremble: From the pocket of one perfectly ordinary gentleman.
Le Chiffre: That’s the, the kind of remark that leads to war. How much better for all humanity if all the nations could learn to live together in peace.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh! Marvelous, marvelous.
Women: Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!
Evelyn Tremble: More!
Women: Hip, hip, hooray! Hooray! Hooray! Yippee! Hooray!
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, I…That-that’s finished, is it? Oh, fantastic. Wonderful. Incredible! Incredible, isn’t it? Absolutely marvelous. I’ve never seen anything like it. And now if you’re ready, Monsieur Le Chiffre, I would like to play baccarat. I use the Evelyn Tremble method.
Le Chiffre: Oh! You read Tremble. I thought he’d only published a few paperback editions.
Evelyn Tremble: Eh, well, I have an autographed first edition. A bit dog-eared now, mind you, I’ve been through it a few times but it nevertheless has a certain…
Le Chiffre: Uninformed quality?
Croupier: Six à la ponte et neuf à la banque. La banque gagne.
Woman: He just keeps winning.
Le Chiffre: Aren’t you a little out of your depths, Mr. Bond? In the last 20 minutes I have ruined two Greeks and a maharajah. No, Mr. Bond, we aren’t playing for marbles. The night is young and the rose garden is already littered with my victims.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, but the “beggar who sit in marketplace are deaf to song of nightingale.”
Le Chiffre: You amuse me, Mr. Bond.
Evelyn Tremble: I’m glad you’re enjoying me.
Le Chiffre: Shall we, uh, double the bank?
Evelyn Tremble: If it’ll improve your game.
Croupier: Pas de cartes. No card. Sept à la banque.
Woman: Itt’s amazing! He never loses!
Croupier: Cinq à la ponte. La banque gagne.
Evelyn Tremble: What about one for the road?
Le Chiffre: It looks as though luck isn’t on your side of the road tonight, old man.
Evelyn Tremble: She has a habit of moving around.
Le Chiffre: Then we might as well double the bank again.
Evelyn Tremble: Suppose I were to treble it?
Le Chiffre: Treble it? You haven’t any chips!
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, uh…I think my credit’s good.
Slymington Jones: Bond credit good.
Croupier: The bank now stands at 50 million francs.
Le Chiffre: Very well. Goodbye, Mr. Bond. It’s been nice knowing you.
Croupier: Pas de cartes? No card. Baccarat.
Woman: He lost!
Croupier: La ponte gagne.
Evelyn Tremble: Goodbye, Monsieur Le Chiffre. It was nice knowing you.
Le Chiffre: Let’s not say goodbye, Mr. Bond. Let’s just say au revoir.
Vesper Lynd: Lovely!
Evelyn Tremble: Credit my account, would you?
Croupier: La partie est terminée.
Slymington Jones: A remarkabIe performance, Mr. Bond.
Evelyn Tremble: Thank you very much. Trifle unusual, perhaps, but, uh…
Slymington Jones: How would you like the money?
Vesper Lynd: A check in any Swiss bank.
Slymington Jones: Would you like the check now?
Vesper Lynd: Oh, yes now.
Evelyn Tremble: Yes, now. Yes.
Slymington Jones: I’ll arrange it with the cashier. You can pick it up as you go out. Excuse me.
Evelyn Tremble: Willingly.
Lieutenant Mathis: Mr. Bond, uh, what are your movements for the rest of the evening?
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, uh, we thought we’d have a bite to eat in the restaurant, then back to the hotel.
Lieutenant Mathis: And you’re leaving Royale first thing in the morning.
Evelyn Tremble: Are we?
Vesper Lynd: The inspector isn’t asking us. He’s telling us.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh.
Lieutenant Mathis: A police car will escort you from the hotel to the airport.
Evelyn Tremble: Mr. Mathis.
Lieutenant Mathis: Yes?
Evelyn Tremble: There’s something been worrying me, uh, you’re a French police officer and yet you have a Scot’s accent.
Lieutenant Mathis: Aye. It worries me, too.
Kidnappers: Psst!
Evelyn Tremble: Haven’t by any chance seen a young lady in a green dress have you?
Valet: Uh, let me see sir. Eh, wouId that be a lady with a black bag over her head, being manhandled by two unsavory gentlemens?
Evelyn Tremble: CouId very well be, yes.
Valet: She went that way, sir. In a car. A very fast car!
Evelyn Tremble: Moss?
Moss: Yes, sir.
Evelyn Tremble: Look!
Moss: Yes, sir.
Evelyn Tremble: Follow that car!
Moss: Yes, sir.
Evelyn Tremble: I’II use Fangio next time. Idiot! “Grand Prix enthusiasts may be worried by the amount of time it’s taken me to get into this Lotus Formula Three. What they don’t realize is, that although Le Chiffre thinks he has a faster car than me, I am faster in my Lotus Formula Three! Hee-hee!”
Le Chiffre: Wake up, Mr. Bond. Wake up. Well, now, Mr. Bond. You’ve had your little victory at the baccarat table. Now it’s my turn. Now I’m going to have to have that check, Mr. Bond. Smersh is going to be very unhappy about that money.
Evelyn Tremble: You mean you’re going to torture me?
Le Chiffre: Persuade you, Mr. Bond. Persuade you. Don’t worry about that chair with the hole in the middle. It’s merely waiting to be reupholstered.
Evelyn Tremble: By me.
Le Chiffre: You have an inventive mind, Mr. Bond. But my methods are much more subtle. They have to be.
Evelyn Tremble: What are you going to do?
Le Chiffre: Physically, I’m not going to do anything.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, you’re going to nothing me to death.
Le Chiffre: Torture of the mind. The most exquisite torture is all in the mind.
Echoing Le Chiffre’s Voice: Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. Mind. I’m going to have to have that check, Mr. Bond. I’m going to have to have that check, Mr. Bond. Check, Mr. Bond. Check. Check. Check. Check, Mr. Bond. Check. Check. Check, Mr. Bond.
Evelyn Tremble: Suppose Mr. Bond isn’t ready to give it to you?
Le Chiffre: You are a tiresome little man. Let’s try another approach. It’s a beauty contest, Mr. Bond. You’re supposed to pick the winner.
Bagpiper: Excuse me. Are you Richard Burton?
Evelyn Tremble: No, I’m Peter O’Toole.
Bagpiper: Then you’re the finest man that ever breathed.
Evelyn Tremble: Oh, look.
Bagpiper: God bless you, sir.
Evelyn Tremble: Thank you.
Le Chiffre: You’ve changed my plans, Miss Lynd. But neither you nor Bond will Ieave here till I get that check!
Vesper Lynd: Mr. Tremble? Never trust a rich spy!
Voice: Le Chiffre, you’re a fool. Smersh believed you could win at baccarat.
Le Chiffre: All I need is 24 hours!
Voice: It’s too late.
Oh, Daddy, I do so long to meet him. All the girls do. He really turns me on.
James Bond: Did that finishing school teach you to talk like that?
Mata Bond: No, I taught them. Oh, do be a pet, daddy.
James Bond: Now, be a good girl, run along and watch the Changing of the Guard.
Mata Bond: I bet Mummy would have taken me in.
James Bond: Mummy took everyone in.
Mata Bond: Hey! Put me down! Put me down!
Passerby: What is it, a film?
Passerby: Must be a commercial.
James Bond: No time for window-gazing, Moneypenny. Mata’s been kidnapped.
Moneypenny: But, Sir James…
James Bond: That’s an unidentified flying object, clever of you to notice it. And there’s a squadron of our fastest jets trying to track it down. Control?
Moneypenny: That’s the canteen.
James Bond: Oh. Control! Contact all operatives immediately. We must find out where it lands.
Moneypenny: Hold on. Air Ministry. They’ve lost it.
James Bond: What do you mean you’ve lost it? You were right on its tail! Well, surely you must have one plane fast enough…I see. They stopped building those last week. Come in?
Sister McTarry: I wonder if you’d care to help us.
Moneypenny: Could you come back a little…
James Bond: Oh, yes. Do please come in, Sister.
Sister McTarry: It’s our annual collection for needy girls. Your receipt? This department has always been very helpful to needy girls.
Moneypenny: That’s strange. We’ve never had a receipt before.
James Bond: “They’re taking your daughter to Casino Royale. Sister McTarry.” The Prime Minister, urgently.
Mata Bond: Daddy’ll come after me.
Captor: That’s what we’re hopin’.
Mata Bond: You won’t get away with this!
Intercom Voice: Move to the door, Mata Bond. You’re a prisoner of Smersh. We already have most of your father’s agents here. You will complete the set.
James Bond: Looks like a Smersh convention.
Usher: Monsieur le directeur wishes to see you urgently. It is about your daughter.
James Bond: Tactic 4B if necessary.
Usher: I will tell him you are here.
Man: Hold it! Back up! Face the curtains! March!
Intercom Voice: You are now entering the Smersh headquarters of Dr. Noah.
James Bond: Tactic 33A. Now!
Intercom Voice: Hahahaha! Operation James Bond completed.
James Bond: Dr. Noah, I presume. Why don’t you come out and face me?
Intercom Voice: Because you are going to come in and face me.
Moneypenny: Sir!
James Bond: Moneypenny!
Intercom Voice: This is an historic day in our saga, Sir James. The day Smersh finally eliminated the original James Bond. His world wiII soon follow.
James Bond: This is all very impressive.
Intercom Voice: You might be even more impressed to meet one of my thousand doubles. Waiting for the moment when I command them to take over the world.
James Bond: It’s fantastic. May I take a closer look?
Intercom Voice: It’s quite perfect.
James Bond: Good Lord! It’s my nephew.
Moneypenny: Jimmy Bond?!
James Bond: This explains the Caribbean assignment. Is this some kind of a joke?
Moneypenny: He can’t speak!
James Bond: Never could in my presence. Psychological block he’s had since childhood, based on hero worship.
Moneypenny: He’s Dr. Noah?
James Bond: My nephew the head of Smersh? You mean that I have been bombed, bullied and baited out of retirement to deal with you?
Moneypenny: Do you suppose he’s a junkie?
James Bond: Leave this to me. Now, Jimmy, as your uncle I really must insist…
Moneypenny: What is it?
James Bond: He put a sheet of invisible glass between us. I never should have let Nellie send him to progressive school. What’s that? Dr. Noah’s bacillus? Now, Jimmy, even you wouldn’t release germ warfare.
Intercom Voice: Handle these capsules with care. Dr. Noah’s bacillus is highly contagious. This germ, when distributed in the atmosphere, will make all women beautiful and destroy all men over four foot six. Please handle these capsules with care…
James Bond: So that’s your plan, huh? A world full of beautiful women and all men shorter than yourself. Good evening. All this trouble just to make up for your feeling of sexual inferiority? I’m beginning to think you’re a trifle neurotic.
The Detainer: Maybe you can explain me. Why was I abducted from the roulette table and subjected to this, whatever it is?
Jimmy Bond: Because, of all Uncle James’s 007s, you’re the most beautiful and desirable.
The Detainer: Do you treat all the girls you desire this way?
Jimmy Bond: Yes! Oh, yes, I undress them and tie them up.
The Detainer: Oh, you do.
Jimmy Bond: Yes, I learned that in the Boy Scouts.
The Detainer: Lovely.
Jimmy Bond: Let me ask you a question. Do I appear menacing to you at all? What are you laughing at?
The Detainer: Nothing. I just think…Did you ever see yourself in the mirror lately? Oh, I think you should. You are a wretched, grotesque, ridiculous, insignificant little monster.
Jimmy Bond: Are you saying to me that you find Uncle James more attractive than I am?
The Detainer: Uncle James, he’s a real man! Wow!
Jimmy Bond: Do you realize that anything Uncle James can do I can do better?
The Detainer: Ah, that will be the day. You’re crazy. You are absolutely crazy.
Jimmy Bond: They called Einstein crazy.
The Detainer: That’s not true, no one ever called Einstein crazy.
Jimmy Bond: Well, they would have if he carried on like this.
The Detainer: People respected Einstein.
Jimmy Bond: Einstein could never have conceived of something like this. It looks like an aspirin, it tastes like an aspirin, but it’s not an aspirin.
The Detainer: It’s cyanide.
Jimmy Bond: This pill contains 400 tiny little time pills. They go off in the body in little explosions forming a chain reaction, and turn the person into a waIking atomic bomb. Einstein’s bomb was crude. This is brilliant!
The Detainer: It’s crude to tie up women.
Jimmy Bond: Listen, in a week it’ll be April Fools’ Day, my birthday.
The Detainer: Uh-huh.
Jimmy Bond: On that day the order goes out to have all world leaders assassinated and my doubles take their places. In five days’ time I’ll be ruler of the Earth. Ha! How would you like to be my co-ruler?
The Detainer: Why not?
Jimmy Bond: What do you mean why not? You hate me!
The Detainer: Oh, I don’t know. I’m beginning to wonder if the real genius of the Bond family is not right here in the room with me now? Why don’t you unIock me?
Jimmy Bond: Yes, yes I will! I’ll unlock you immediately and we’ll run amok.
The Detainer: Oh, thank you!
Jimmy Bond: If you’re too tired, we’ll walk amok.
The Detainer: Oh, I’m so sorry for all the things I said. I didn’t really mean it.
Jimmy Bond: Yes, you’re forgiven.
The Detainer: Oh, the dress! Thank you!
Jimmy Bond: Here, here. Slip into this.
The Detainer: Just one more thing. Oh!
Jimmy Bond: No. Yes, I don’t want to damage any of your parts.
The Detainer: Oh, oh thanks! Ooh! Thank you. Now, turn yourself like a nice fool while I slip this on.
Jimmy Bond: Yes. Yes, I’ll wait over here. This’ll show Sir James once and for all which of us has the perfect body. The poor boob! Hurry, my dear. I’m – I, I have great pIans for us.
James Bond: It’s vaporized lysergic acid. It’s highly explosive.
Intercom Voice: You are now entering Dr. Noah’s personal aircraft, where our beloved leader has assembled an incredible collection of the world’s most distinguished doubles.
The Detainer (Clone):: Dr. Noah’s jet orbital space plane welcomes you aboard.
The Detainer: Hey!
Jimmy Bond: Yeah she’s a great Iikeness, isn’t she? I copied her right down to the last, uh…The two of us have had some profoundly moving religious experiences.How do you like this place? I had a decorator help me with it but I worked with her.
Intercom Voice: Here, your leader has remolded ordinary agents and fashioned them into replicas of the worlds greatest figures in culture, politics and the arts.
The Detainer: Look! They’re uncovered!
Jimmy Bond: These are not doubles! These are the real people. I’ve already substituted my robots for them. At this very minute the world is being ruled by duplicates under my control.
The Detainer: Oh well, that explains a lot of things.
Server: Your rain-cooIed Taittinger, sir.
The Detainer: The drink! And…for you.
Jimmy Bond: Think of it!
Server: Madame!
Jimmy Bond: A world free of poverty and pestilence and war. A world where all men are created equal. Where a man, no matter how short, can score with a top broad. Where each man, regardless of race, creed, color, gets free dental work and a chance of subscription-buying of all the good things in life.
The Detainer: But, Noah, you are for all this?
Jimmy Bond: No, no. I’m against all this.
The Detainer: Oh, I Iove politics! To your future!
Jimmy Bond: I’ll drink to that. My very special champagne.
The Detainer: With your very special pill in it.
Jimmy Bond: What are you talking about?
The Detainer: It looks like an aspirin, it tastes like an aspirin, but it isn’t an aspirin. And you just swallowed it.
Jimmy Bond: You’re lying. Hic!
The Detainer: 398 more of those little pills to go off! Have a real bomb of an evening!
Jimmy Bond: Alka Seltzer!
Mata Bond: Right?
James Bond: Hup!
Cooper: Blow it!
James Bond: Charge!
Jimmy Bond: Hic!
Bartender: Delightful vintage, sir.
Jimmy Bond: 297…
Bartender: Smooth to the palate.
Jimmy Bond: Here. There’s a fish in my mixture. You fool!
Mata Bond: Ooh, I say! Super place for a coming-out party!
James Bond: Now now, Mata. Through here! Down! Look! Quick, before the fuel burns out.
James Bond: Try not to look conspicuous. Good Lord! It’s one of ours.
The Detainer: Oh, sir! Sir, we’ve got to get out of here before he blows up!
James Bond: We’ve got to find that office.
Cooper: What office?
James Bond: The one we came down in, of course. Leave this to me. Where’s the office? The office.
The Detainer: Come on! Quick.
James Bond: That’s very civil of you, sir. Thank you.
James Bond: Come on, give me a hand!
Mata Bond: Look out!
James Bond: Follow me! Charge!
James Bond: Mata, put your finger in the tiger’s ear!
Mata Bond: Tiger’s what?!
James Bond: It works the doors! Good.
Cooper: What’s the strategy, sir?
James Bond: Get out of the bloody place before it blows up.
James Bond: Everybody stay close behind me.
The Detainer: Oh no, not me, I’m not chancing that casino again. I’d rather slide down a drainpipe!
James Bond: Beautiful, but no stamina.
James Bond: Get the girls out here first, back way.
Cooper: Right, sir.
James Bond: I’m sorry I got you into this.
Mata Bond: Good heavens, Daddy. I couldn’t have enjoyed it more.
James Bond: Good show.
Cooper: Over there.
James Bond: Clear the building immediately. It’s liable to blow up.
Receptionist: Blow up?!
James Bond: I want London. Whitehall double-0, 07.
Vesper Lynd: Too bad you won’t get it, Sir James. I went through a lot of trouble to bring you here.
James Bond: Dear Vesper. The things you do for money.
Vesper Lynd: This time it’s for love, Sir James.
James Bond: Don’t expect…
Vesper Lynd: Back to the office.
Cooper: The American aid, sir. It’s arrived.
Jimmy Bond: Hic! 80. Hic! 79.
Skydiver: Geronimo!
Skydiver: Yeeeooow!
Jimmy Bond: Hic! 51.
Ransome: Glad we could be of help, sir.
James Bond: Good Lord! Ransome, isn’t it?
Ransome: A-OK, Sir James. CIC at CIA.
James Bond: Well, don’t start all that again. I haven’t worked out your last lot yet.
Ransome: Excuse me, sir. As you were saying, sir?
James Bond: A-OK, Ransome. A-OK.
Ransome: Ciao.
James Bond: Ciao.
Jimmy Bond: Hic! 37.
Man: Les Français sont arrivés.
James Bond: I beg your pardon?
Man: Les Français sont là.
James Bond: I’m sorry, my French is rather rusty.
Man: Moment. “The French have arrived.”
James Bond: Ah, splendid. Thank you. Look out!
Man: Merde!
James Bond: What? The book.
Man: “Ouch!”
James Bond: Ah. This way!
Man: Police!
Man: Merde! Non… Ouch!
George Raft: I’ve been framed. This gun shoots backwards. I just killed myseIf.
Jimmy Bond: Hic! 18. Wait! Hic! 17. Hic!
Jimmy Bond: Hic! Four. Hic! Three. Hic! Two. Hic!
Singer: Seven James Bonds at Casino Royale
They came to save the world and win the gal at Casino Royale
Six of them went to a heavenly spot
The seventh one is going to a place where it’s terribly hot
Singer: The formula is safe with old 007
He’s got a redhead in his arms
Though he’s a lover, when you are in trouble
Have no fear, look who’s here
James Bond!
They’ve got us on the run
With guns and knive
We’re fighting for our lives
Have no fear, Bond is here
He’s going to save the world at Casino Royale
At Casino Royale!
The formula is safe with old 007
He’s got a redhead in his arms
Though he’s a lover, when you are in trouble
Have no fear, look who’s here
James Bond!
They’ve got us on the run
With guns and knives
We’re fighting for our lives
Have no fear, Bond is here
He’s going to save the world at Casino Royale
James Bond is here
So have no fear