Transcript | Transcript (Text Only)
Man: Yahoo!
Sierra: Congratulations.
James Bond: Thank you.
Sierra: Mr. Ramirez and his friends will be out of business.
James Bond: At least he won’t be using heroin-flavored bananas to finance revolutions.
Sierra: Don’t go back to your hotel, señor. They’ll be watching it. There’s a plane leaving for Miami in an hour.
James Bond: I’ll be on it, but, uh, first I have some unfinished business to attend to.
James Bond: Hmm.
Bonita: Oh!
James Bond: Forgive me.
Bonita: Why do you always wear that thing?
James Bond: Uh, I have a slight inferiority complex. Where was I? Oh, yes.
James Bond: Shocking. Positively shocking.
Shirley Bassey: “Goldfinger
He’s the man, the man with the midas touch
A spider’s touch,
Such a cold finger
Beckons you to enter his web of sin,
But don’t go in
Golden words he will pour in your ear,
But his lies can’t disguise what you fear,
For a golden girl knows when he’s kissed her,
It’s the kiss of death from
Mister Goldfinger.
Pretty girl, beware of this heart of gold
This heart is cold
Golden words he will pour in your ear,
But his lies can’t disguise what you fear,
For a golden girl knows when he’s kissed her,
It’s the kiss of death from
Mister Goldfinger
Pretty girl, beware of this heart of gold
This heart is cold
He loves only gold
Only gold
He loves gold”
Dink: How’s this?
James Bond: That’s nice. Very nice.
Dink: Just here?
James Bond: No, a little lower, darling.
Felix Leiter: I thought I’d find you in good hands.
James Bond: Felix! Felix, how are you? Dink, meet Felix Letter.
Dink: Hello.
James Bond: Felix, say hello to Dink.
Felix Leiter: Hi, Dink.
James Bond: Dink, say goodbye to Felix.
Dink: Hmm?
James Bond: Uh, man talk.
Felix Leiter: You must be slipping, 007, letting the opposition get that close to you.
James Bond: They got a lot closer to you in Jamaica, didn’t they? But what’s on your mind? I’m on holiday.
Felix Leiter: Not any more, you’re not. Signal from London.
James Bond: Might have known M wouldn’t book me into the best hotel in Miami Beach out of pure gratitude.
Felix Leiter: He asked us to keep an eye on him for you.
James Bond: Auric Goldfinger. Sounds like a French nail varnish.
Felix Leiter: He’s British, but he doesn’t sound like it. Big operator. Worldwide interests, all apparently quite reputable. Owns one of the finest stud farms in the States.
James Bond: What’s the tie-up with Washington?
Felix Leiter: He’s clean, as far as CIA is concerned.
James Bond: And where do I find him?
Felix Leiter: That’s his pigeon waiting for him now. Goldfinger’s been taking him to the cleaners every day for a week.
Auric Goldfinger: Morning, Mr. Simmons. Ready for our little game?
Simmons: Sure, I’m ready. When you’re 10 grand in the hole, you’re ready for anything.
Auric Goldfinger: Could I have my usual seat?
Simmons: You and your suntan.
Felix Leiter: That Goldfinger’s a fabulous card player.
Auric Goldfinger: Same stakes?
Simmons: Let’s double it. $5 a point.
Auric Goldfinger: Did you say five?
Simmons: My luck’s got to change sometime.
Auric Goldfinger: Okay.
Felix Leiter: I’ll get back to the office and cable M you’re on the job.
James Bond: You can fill me in on the rest at dinner.
Felix Leiter: Fine, I’ll call you later.
Auric Goldfinger: Four.
Simmons: So soon?
Auric Goldfinger: How many?
Simmons: Seven, 12, 18, 32, 44.
James Bond: Miss?
Hosekeeper: Hey, what do you…That’s Mr. Goldfinger’s suite.
James Bond: Yes, I know. You’re very sweet.
Jill Masterson: He just drew the king of clubs. That makes his count 59. He’s got a diamond run, 8, 9, 10. He’s holding on to the six of spades so I guess he thinks you want it. That last draw was the eight of hearts. He needs kings and queens. Who are you?
James Bond: Bond. James Bond.
Simmons: Come on, come on! Ah, that’s more like it.
James Bond: What’s your name?
Jill Masterson: Jill.
James Bond: Jill who?
Jill Masterson: Jill Masterson.
James Bond: Tell me, Jill, why does he do it?
Jill Masterson: He likes to win.
James Bond: Why do you do it?
Jill Masterson: He pays me.
James Bond: Is that all he pays you for?
Jill Masterson: And for being seen with him.
James Bond: Just seen?
Jill Masterson: Just seen.
James Bond: I’m so glad. You’re much too nice to be mixed up in anything like this, you know. Now hear this, Goldfinger. Your luck has just changed. I doubt very much if the Miami Beach police would take kindly to what you’re doing. Nod your head if you agree. Nod! Good. Now start losing, Goldfinger. Shall we say, $10,000? No, let’s be generous. Let’s make it 15,000.
Jill Masterson: May I see?
Simmons: Well, I can see this is really my day. Gin.
James Bond: Over and out. That should keep him occupied for quite some time.
Jill Masterson: I’m beginning to like you, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: Oh, call me James.
Jill Masterson: More than anyone I’ve met in a long time, James.
James Bond: Well, what on earth are we going to do about it?
Jill Masterson: Yes, what?
James Bond: I’ll tell you at dinner.
Jill Masterson: Where?
James Bond: Well, I know the best place in town.
Radio Announcer: Station W.E.B.S. brings you the latest in world news. Washington. At the White House this afternoon, the President said he was entirely satisfied…
James Bond: That makes two of us.
James Bond: Hello?
Felix Leiter: Leiter here.
James Bond: Oh, Felix.
Felix Leiter: Well, now?
James Bond: Ah, what’s that? Dinner? Um, no. Look, I’m sorry. I can’t. Something big’s come up.
Felix Leiter: Right…
James Bond: Uh, how about breakfast?
Felix Leiter: Okay.
Jill Masterson: Not too early.
Felix Leiter: I’ll call you around 9:00.
James Bond: Yes, 9:00 will be fine.
Felix Leiter: So long, James.
James Bond: Good night, Felix.
James Bond: Oh, it’s lost its chill.
Jill Masterson: Oh why, you…
James Bond: It’s all right, there’s another in the fridge.
Jill Masterson: Who needs it?
James Bond: My dear girl, there are some things that just aren’t done, such as drinking Dom Perignon ’53 above a temperature of 38 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s as bad as listening to the Beatles without earmuffs. Now, where is this passion juice?
James Bond: Jill?
Concierge: Yes, Mr. Bond?
James Bond: Beach 79432, room 119.
Felix Leiter: Hello?
James Bond: Hello, Felix? Get over here right away.
Felix Leiter: What’s up?
James Bond: The girl’s dead.
Felix Leiter: Dink?
James Bond: No. Masterson, Jill Masterson. And she’s covered in paint. Gold paint.
M: Gold? All over?
James Bond: She died of skin suffocation. It’s been known to happen to cabaret dancers. It’s all right so long as you leave a small bare patch at the base ofthe spine to allow the skin to breathe.
M: Someone obviously didn’t.
James Bond: And I know who.
M: This isn’t a personal vendetta, 007. It’s an assignment, like any other. And if you can’t treat it as such – coldly and objectively – 008 can replace you. You’ve hardly distinguished yourself, have you? You were supposed to observe Mr. Goldfinger, not borrow his girlfriend. Instead of that, Goldfinger goes off to Europe, and it’s only by the grace of God, your friend Letter, and my intervention with the British embassy in Washington, that you’re not in the custody of the Miami Beach police.
James Bond: Sir, I’m aware of my shortcomings, but I’m prepared to continue this assignment in the spirit you suggest, if I knew what it was about. Sir.
M: What do you know about gold? Not paint, bullion.
James Bond: I know it when I see it.
M: Meet me here at 7:00. Black tie.
James Bond: Now, what do you know about gold, Moneypenny?
Moneypenny: Oh, the only gold I know about is the kind you wear. You know, on the third finger of your left hand.
James Bond: Mhmm. One of these days we really must look into that.
Moneypenny: Well, what about tonight? You’ll come around for dinner, and I’ll cook you a beautiful angel cake.
James Bond: Well, nothing would give me greater pleasure, but unfortunately I do have a business appointment.
Moneypenny: That’s the flimsiest excuse you’ve ever given me. Ah, well, some girls have all the luck. Who is she, James?
M: She is me, Miss Moneypenny, and kindly omit the customary by-play with 007. He’s dining with me, and I don’t want him to be late.
Moneypenny: So there’s hope for me yet.
James Bond: Moneypenny, won’t you ever believe me?
Colonel Smithers: We here at the Bank of England, Mr. Bond, are the official depository for gold bullion just as Fort Knox, Kentucky, is for the United States. We know, of course, the amounts we each hold, we know the amounts deposited in other banks, and we can estimate what is being held for industrial purposes. This enables the two governments to establish, respectively, the true value of the dollar and the pound. Consequently, we are vitally concerned with unauthorized leakages.
James Bond: I take it you mean smuggling?
Colonel Smithers: Yes. Gold, gentlemen, which can be melted down and recast, is virtually untraceable, which makes it, uh, unlike diamonds, ideal for smuggling, attracting the biggest and most ingenious criminals. Thank you, Brunskill. That’ll be all.
Brunskill: Thank you, sir.
Colonel Smithers: Have a little more of this rather disappointing brandy.
M: What’s the matter with it?
James Bond: I’d say it was a 30-year-old Fine indifferently blended, sir…with an overdose of Bons Bois.
M: Colonel Smithers is giving the lecture, 007.
Colonel Smithers: Gentlemen, Mr. Goldfinger has gold bullion on deposit in Zurich, Amsterdam, Caracas, and Hong Kong. Worth 20 million pounds. Most of it came from this country.
James Bond: Why move it?
Colonel Smithers: Because the price of gold varies from country to country. If you buy it here at $30 an ounce, you can sell it in, say, Pakistan at $110 and triple your money. Providing, of course, you have the facilities for melting it down.
James Bond: And has he?
Colonel Smithers: Apart from being a legitimate bullion dealer, Mr. Goldfinger poses, uh, no, that’s not quite fair…is, among his many other interests, a legitimate international jeweler. He’s legally entitled to operate modest metallurgical installations. His British one is down in Kent. As yet, we have failed to discover how he transfers his gold overseas. And Lord knows we’ve tried. If your department can establish that it is done illegally, then the bank could institute proceedings to recover the bulk of his holdings.
James Bond: I think it’s time Mr. Goldfinger and I met. Socially, of course.
Colonel Smithers: I, uh, was hoping you’d say that.
M: It might lead to a business talk, Mr. Goldfinger’s kind of business.
James Bond: I’ll need some sort of bait.
Colonel Smithers: I quite agree. This is the only one we have from the Nazi hoard at the bottom of Lake Toplitz in the Salzkammergut. But there are undoubtedly others. Mr. Bond can make whatever use of it he thinks fit, providing he returns it, of course. It’s worth £5,000.
M: You’ll draw it from Q branch with the rest of your equipment in the morning.
James Bond: Of course, sir.
James Bond: Morning, Q.
Q: Good morning, 007. This way, please.
James Bond: My, we are busy this morning.
Q: It’s not perfected yet.
James Bond: Where’s my Bentley?
Q: Oh, it’s had its day, I’m afraid.
James Bond: But it’s never let me down.
Q: M’s orders, 007. You’ll be using this Aston Martin DB5, with modifications. Now, pay attention, please. Windscreen, bulletproof. As are the side and the rear windows. Revolving number plates, naturally. Valid all countries. Here’s a nice little transmitting device called a homer. You prime it by pressing that back like this. You see? The smaller model is now standard field issue, to be fitted into the heel of your shoe. Its larger brother is magnetic. Right. To be concealed in the car you’re trailing while you keep out of sight. Reception on the dashboard here. Auto-visual. Range, 150 miles.
James Bond: Ingenious. And useful, too. Allow a man to stop off for a quick one en route.
Q: It has not been perfected after years of patient research entirely for that purpose, 007. And incidentally, we’d appreciate its return, along with all your other equipment, intact, for once, when you return from the field.
James Bond: Well, you’d be surprised the amount of wear and tear that goes on out there in the field. Anything else?
Q: Well, I won’t keep you for more than an hour or so, if you give me your undivided attention. We’ve installed some rather interesting modifications. You see this arm here? Now, open the top, and inside are your defense mechanism controls. Smoke screen, oil slick, rear bulletproof screen, and left and right front-wing machine guns. Now, this one I’m particularly keen about. You see the gear lever here? Now, if you take the top off, you’ll find a little red button. Whatever you do, don’t touch it.
James Bond: And why not?
Q: Beause you’ll release this section of the roof and engage and then fire the passenger ejector seat.
James Bond: Ejector seat? You’re joking.
Q: I never joke about my work, 007.
Goldfinger: Ready, Blacking?
Blacking: Yes, sir. There’s an old member dropped by, sir. Same handicap as yours, I wondered if you’d rather play with him.
Goldfinger: Where is he?
Blacking: Mr. Bond?
James Bond: Yes?
Blacking: This is Mr. Goldfinger.
Goldfinger: How do you do?
James Bond: How do you do?
Blacking: You can go straight off, the first tee is clear.
James Bond: Fine.
Blacking: I’ll get Hawker to carry for you, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: Well, that’ll be splendid. Shall we make it a shilling a hole?
Goldfinger: Mhmm.
Goldfinger: I’ll take some tees.
Blacking: Yes, of course.
Goldfinger: Oh, you must excuse Oddjob, Mr. Bond. He’s an admirable manservant, but mute. He’s not a very good caddie. Golf is not yet the national game of Korea, hey?
Goldfinger: This meeting is not a coincidence, hmm? What’s your game, Mr. Bond?
James Bond: My game?
Goldfinger: You didn’t come here to play golf.
Goldfinger: The 1940 smelt from the Weigenhaler foundry at Essen.
James Bond: Part of a smelt of 600.
Goldfinger: They vanished in 1944.
James Bond: When the Nazis were on the run.
Goldfinger: And you have access to more?
James Bond: Yes, from the same source.
Goldfinger: Interesting. Two holes to go.
James Bond: Yes, and all square.
Goldfinger: Then you have no objection to increasing the stakes?
James Bond: No, what do you have in mind?
Goldfinger: The bar of gold you have with you, naturally.
James Bond: It’s worth £5,000.
Goldfinger: Oh, I’ll stake the cash equivalent.
James Bond: Naturally.
Goldfinger: Strict rules of golf?
James Bond: But of course. Oh, bad luck. You’re in the rough.
James Bond: Oh, what a pity. Here it is.
Hawker: No, it’s not. He plays a Slazenger 1.
James Bond: Strict rules of golf, Goldfinger. Five minutes are almost up. A lost ball will cost you stroke and distance.
Oddjob: Aha!
Goldfinger: Oh-oh. I’m still training him as a caddie.
James Bond: Successfully, too.
Goldfinger: Slazenger Number 1? Good.
Hawker: If that’s his original ball, I’m Arnold Palmer.
James Bond: It isn’t.
Hawker: How do you know?
James Bond: I’m standing on it.
Hawker: Why, you crafty old…
James Bond: Leave it.
Hawker: The ball you found, sir?
James Bond: Yes, Slazenger 7. Let’s have a little fun with Mr. Goldfinger.
James Bond: Would you like me to mark it or knock it in?
Goldfinger: Play it. This for a half.
James Bond: That’s right. One to go. That’ll be the clincher.
Goldfinger: Fine.
Hawker: Did you switch them, sir?
James Bond: Uh-huh.
Hawker: Then we’ve got him.
James Bond: If he doesn’t notice the switch.
Hawker: It’s your honor, sir!
James Bond: It’s all right.
Goldfinger: Down in five.
James Bond: I have to sink this to halve the game, right? You win, Goldfinger.
Goldfinger: It seems I’m too good for you.
James Bond: Hmm. You play a Slazenger 1, don’t you?
Goldfinger: Yes, why?
James Bond: Well, this is a Slazenger 7. Here’s my Penfold Hearts. You must have played the wrong ball somewhere on the 18th fairway. We are playing strict rules, so I’m afraid you lose the hole and the match.
James Bond: She’s a beauty! Phantom III, ’37, isn’t she?
Goldfinger: You are a clever, resourceful man, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: Why, thank you.
Goldfinger: Perhaps too clever. Twice our paths have crossed, let’s leave it at that. I should think our first meeting would have convinced you.
James Bond: Oh, I see. You’re worried about me not giving you a return game.
Goldfinger: Both of us know perfectly well what we are talking about, Mr. Bond. But I see that it is necessary to remind you. Oddjob! Many people have tried to involve themselves in my affairs, unsuccessfully.
James Bond: Remarkable. But what does the club secretary have to say?
Goldfinger: Oh, nothing, Mr. Bond. I own the club. I assume you want the check made out to cash? That would be perfectly satisfactory.
Goldfinger: Goodbye, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: Oh, uh, I believe this is yours.
Woman PA Announcer: May I have your attention, please? British United Air Ferries announce the final call for the departure of their DS-400 flight to Geneva. British United Air Ferries announce the departure of their DS-400 flight to Geneva.
Plane Captain: Mr. Bond? That’s all right, I’ve got you booked out on the next flight to Geneva leaving in a half an hour.
James Bond: Oh, thank you very much.
Plane Captain: Right, sir.
James Bond: Discipline, 007. Discipline.
James Bond: Are you all right? Here, let me help you. You know, you’re lucky to be alive.
Tilly Masterson: No thanks to you. You should have pulled over further. Look at them!
James Bond: A double blowout. I’ve never seen one of these before.
Tilly Masterson: How could new tires…
James Bond: Defect of some kind, most likely. Anyway, I’m so glad it’s only the car and not you. You don’t look like the sort of girl who should be ditched.
Tilly Masterson: Never mind that. Please take me to the nearest garage.
James Bond: Certainly. By the way, my name is Bond…
Tilly Masterson: Um, as quickly as possible. I’ll take that.
James Bond: Yes, of course.
James Bond: What’s your name, by the way?
Tilly Masterson: Soames. Tilly Soames.
James Bond: Here for the hunting season? I had a case just like that one.
Tilly Masterson: It’s for my ice skates.
James Bond: Lovely sport. Where do you skate?
Tilly Masterson: St. Moritz.
James Bond: I didn’t know there was ice there this time of the year.
Tilly Masterson: There’s a garage.
Tilly Masterson: Fraulein! I’ve had an accident.
Tilly Masterson: How long will it take? Thank you.
Tilly Masterson: They say it will take 24 hours to get new tires. There’s a hotel nearby.
James Bond: Oh, jump in. I’ll run you down.
Tilly Masterson: That won’t be necessary.
James Bond: Well, I hate to leave you here alone.
Tilly Masterson: I can take care of myself.
James Bond: Yes, I’m sure you can. Well, don’t forget to write.
Auric Goldfinger: Smuggling is an art, Mr. Ling. And art requires…In this case, the bodywork of my Rolls Royce is 18-carat gold. We dismantle it here, reduce the gold in this special furnace to ingots, which in turn will be released on the board and weigh approximately two tons. I make six trips a year to the continent in the Rolls Royce, Mr. Ling.
Mr. Ling It would be wiser to suspend your other activities.
Auric Goldfinger: Now, Mr. Ling, please assure your principals Operation Grand Slam will have my undivided attention. Now, there are certain matters we must discuss.
Tilly Masterson: Let me go! You’re breaking my back!
James Bond: What the hell are you doing here?
Tilly Masterson: I want to kill him!
James Bond: Kill who?
Tilly Masterson: Goldfinger.
James Bond: Well, I want him alive.
Tilly Masterson: I want him dead. He killed my sister.
James Bond: T.M. Tilly Masterson. I knew your sister, Jill. I know what he did to her in Miami.
Tilly Masterson: No, you don’t. Let me go!
James Bond: If you wanted to kill him, why did you shoot at me?
Tilly Masterson: I didn’t. I was shooting at him.
James Bond: Well, you’re a lousy shot. Somebody else around here isn’t. Come on.
James Bond: Quick. Get in the car. I’ll take care of him.
James Bond: Run for that bracken when I tell you. Now!
Auric Goldfinger: Good evening, 007.
James Bond: My name is James Bond.
Auric Goldfinger: And members of your curious profession are few in number. You have been recognized, let’s say, by one of your opposite numbers, who is also licensed to kill. Oh, that interesting car of yours! I, too, have a new toy, but considerably more practical. You are looking at an industrial laser which emits an extraordinary light not to be found in nature. It can project a spot on the moon, or at closer range cut through solid metal.I will show you. This is gold, Mr. Bond. All my life, I’ve been in love with its color, its brilliance, its divine heaviness. I welcome any enterprise that will increase my stock. Which is considerable.
James Bond: I think you’ve made your point, Goldfinger. Thank you for the demonstration.
Auric Goldfinger: Choose your next witticism carefully, Mr. Bond. It may be your last. The purpose of our two previous encounters is now very clear to me. I do not intend to be distracted by another. Good night, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: Do you expect me to talk?
Auric Goldfinger: No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to die! There is nothing you can talk to me about that I don’t already know.
James Bond: You’re forgetting one thing. If I fail to report, 008 replaces me.
Auric Goldfinger: I trust he will be more successful.
James Bond: But he knows what I know.
Auric Goldfinger: You know nothing, Mr. Bond!
James Bond: Operation Grand Slam, for instance.
Auric Goldfinger: Two words you may have overheard, which cannot possibly have any significance to you or anyone in your organization.
James Bond: Can you afford to take that chance?
Auric Goldfinger: You are quite right, Mr. Bond. You are worthnmore to me alive.
James Bond: Who are you?
Pussy Galore: My name is Pussy Galore.
James Bond: I must be dreaming. I thought I’d wake up dead.
Pussy Galore: Tranquilizer gun. Knock-out shot.
James Bond: I see. Well, I’m delighted to be here. And by the way, where is here?
Pussy Galore: 35,000 feet, flying southwest over Newfoundland.
James Bond: Oh, that explains the humming.
Pussy Galore: The humming means you’re in Mr. Goldfinger’s Lockheed Jetstar heading for Baltimore, and you’re his guest.
James Bond: I’m honored. I never realized he enjoyed my company that much.
Pussy Galore: I don’t suppose it’ll be all fun and games. Mei-lei.
Mei-Lei: Can I do something for you, Mr. Bond?
James Bond: Just a drink. A martini. Shaken, not stirred. Won’t you join me?
Pussy Galore: Not on duty. I’m Mr. Goldfinger’s personal pilot.
James Bond: You are? And, uh, just how personal is that?
Pussy Galore: I’m a damned good pilot. Period.
James Bond: Well, that’s good news. By the way, where is our host?
Pussy Galore: He flew on ahead.
James Bond: Thank you. Well, here’s to Operation Grand Slam. This should be a memorable flight.
Pussy Galore: This should be a memorable flight.
James Bond: You can turn off the charm. I’m immune.
Pussy Galore: We’ll be landing in Baltimore, our port of entry into the United States, in 55 minutes.
James Bond: Mei-Lei, I would like to arrive more appropriately dressed. Did any of my luggage survive with me? Ah. And, uh, my attaché case?
Mei-Lei: Black attaché case damaged when examined. So sorry.
James Bond: Apology is quite unnecessary.
Pussy Galore: Sydney, tell Mei-Lei to keep an eye on him.
Pussy Galore: We’ll be landing in 20 minutes. Do you want to play it easy or the hard way? And this isn’t a tranquilizer.
James Bond: Now, Pussy, you know a lot more about planes than guns. That’s a Smith and Wesson .45, and if you fired at this close range, the bullet will pass through me and the fuselage like a blowtorch through butter. The cabin will depressurize, and we’ll both be sucked into outer space together. But if that’s how you want to enter the United States, you’re welcome. As for me, I, uh, prefer the easier way.
Pussy Galore: That’s very sensible.
James Bond: Oh, besides, there’s always so much going on around Mr. Goldfinger. I wouldn’t dream of not accepting his hospitality.
Pussy Galore: He’ll be very glad to see you, too. You like close shaves, don’t you?
Moneypenny: Washington, sir, on the green scrambler.
M: M here.
Felix Leiter: Leiter, sir.
M: Leiter!
Felix Leiter: It’s about 007, sir. We picked up his homer signal. It’s monitored into Friendship Airport, Baltimore, where he’s just landed.
M: Baltimore? Nice of him to let us know. Felix Leiter: Last we heard, he was in Switzerland.
Felix Leiter: He came in on a private jet, ex-Geneva, registered to our old friend, Auric Goldfinger.
M: Well, I’m glad he’s making progress.
Felix Leiter: Yes, sir.
M: Keep an eye on him for us.
Felix Leiter: Their flight plan gives Blue Grass Field, Kentucky, as their final destination.
M: Don’t charge in on him and spoil anything, will you? He’s evidently well on top at the moment.
Mei-Lei: Mr. Bond, please.
James Bond: Of course. Any time.
Mei-Lei: Thank you.
James Bond: Do mind your step, Captain.
Pussy Galore: Just keep playing it easy. Mei-Lei, will you see everything’s all right with Mr. Goldfinger?
Mei-Lei: Of course.
Pussy Galore: And I’ll see the supplies are here soon.
James Bond: Talented chaps.
Pussy Galore: They should be. I trained them. Come on.
James Bond: You’re a woman of many parts, Pussy. I believe that the bourbon and branch water’s rather splendid here in Kentucky. Well, now that we’re both off duty, perhaps…
James Bond: Manners, Oddjob. I thought you always took your hat off to a lady. You know, he kills little girls like you.
Pussy Galore: Little boys, too.
Pussy Galore: Well?
Pilot: Dress rehearsal wentmlike a dream, Skipper.
Pussy Galore: Good. You’ll get your final briefing tonight. That’ll be all for now.
Jockey: Ya! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Auric Goldfinger: Ah, welcome to Auric Stud, Mr. Bond. Lovely animal, isn’t she?
James Bond: Certainly better bred than the owner. Show Mr. Bond to his quarters, please.
Johnny: Felix? Maybe we should just drop in on him.
Felix Leiter: He’ll shout if he needs us.
Kisch: They’re all here, Mr. Goldfinger.
Auric Goldfinger: Huh? Oh, yes. yes.
Gangster: That guy Solo’s going to wear a hole in his shoes.
Gangster: Hey! Hey I like this! Hey! Wait!
Auric Goldfinger: Gentlemen!
Gangster: Goldfinger, why weren’t we told that New York and the West Coast were in on this?
Gangster: Look who’s talking.
Gangster: I do not do business with Chicago.
Gangster: I thought we had a private business deal to settle. Now I find I’m attending a hood’s convention.
Gangster: Goldfinger, I made a delivery. Where is my money?
Gangster: I made a delivery, too.
Auric Goldfinger: You all made the deliveries we contracted for.
Gangster: And you owe me 1 million bucks.
Auric Goldfinger: I owe each of you a million in gold bullion.
Gangster: So pay!
Auric Goldfinger: Gentlemen, you can have the million today…Or 10 millions tomorrow.
Gangster: Did you say 10 million?
Auric Goldfinger: As soon as my bank opens in the morning.
Gangster: Banks don’t open on Sunday.
Auric Goldfinger: My bank will. Haha!
Gangster: What’s with that trick pool table?
Gangster: Cover him! Hey, cover those doors!
Gangster: Turn those lights back on!
Gangster: What are you trying to pull, Goldfinger?
Auric Goldfinger: There’s no cause for alarm, gentlemen.
Gangster: I don’t like being cooped up like this. What’s that map doing there?
Auric Goldfinger: This is my bank, the gold depository at Fort Knox, gentlemen. In its vaults are $15 billion, the entire gold supply of the United States.
Gangster: Knock off Fort Knox?
Gangster: Got a key or something?
Auric Goldfinger: Of a kind.
Gangster: There are 35,000 troops stationed around there!
Auric Goldfinger: Forty-one thousand.
Gangster: And who’s going to say boo to them, Goldfinger?
Gangster: Hey, what’s going on here?
Gangster: Hey, what is this?
Gangster: The floor!
Gangster: What is this, a merry-go-round
Auric Goldfinger: Man has climbed Mount Everest, gone to the bottom of the ocean. He has fired rockets at the moon, split the atom, achieved miracles in every field of human endeavor except crime!
Auric Goldfinger: The underworld will rock with applause for centuries.
Gangster: Cut the commercial.
Gangster: Yeah, get to the point.
Gangster: You’re wasting my time, Goldfinger. The depository is impregnable.
Gangster: Look, the joint is bombproof, electrified, lousy with…
Auric Goldfinger: Bear with me, please! Fort Knox is a bank, like any other. Larger, better-protected perhaps, but, nonetheless, a bank. It can be, I think the expression is, blown. My plan is foolproof, gentlemen. I call it Operation Grand Slam. I have devoted 15 years of my life to it. Every detail has been scrupulously prepared. Every eventuality has been considered. We’ll operate on a split-second schedule. Your organization, Mr. Midnight, brought the consignment of these canisters across the Canadian border. They contain Delta 9.
Gangster: Delta 9?
Gangster: What’s that?
Auric Goldfinger: An invisible nerve gas which disperses 15 minutes after inducing complete unconsciousness for 24 hours. Tomorrow at dawn, the flying circus of my personal pilot, Miss Pussy Galore, will spray it into the atmosphere. Once the population, including the military, has been immobilized, my task force, which Mr. Strap had his people smuggle across the Rio Grande from Mexico, will approach Fort Knox in motorized equipment along Bullion Boulevard which runs past the depository here, and intersects with Gold Vault Road. This fence surrounding the depository, as Mr. Strap reminded us, is electrified. It will be dynamited! My task force will then move to the main entrance and demolish it.
Gangster: How, may I ask?
Auric Goldfinger: You made that possible, Mr. Solo, by arranging through your considerable influence in shipping circles to bring through customs uninspected a consignment labeled “machine parts.” All that will then remain is to descend to the vaults, where the bullion is stored.
Gangster: I’ve heard enough.
Gangster: Let him finish!
Gangster: If you have no objection, I’ll take my money now.
Gangster: What’s the matter, Solo, too big for you to handle?
Auric Goldfinger: Gentlemen, we must respect Mr. Solo’s decision. Please excuse me for a few minutes while I take care of him. Make yourselves comfortable.
Gangster: How do we get it out?
Gangster: That’s the bit I want to hear.
James Bond: Pussy. Who taught you judo?
Pussy Galore: The gun you took.
James Bond: Oh, the gun. The gun, of course. We must have a few fast falls together sometime.
Gangster: Hey, Strap, y’know if he’s got the right answers, you and me don’t even have to be there. The boys can handle everything.
Gangster: Hey, they closed up the fireplace.
Gangster: What’s going on?
Gangster: I don’t like this. Hey, what the…What’s going on here?
Gangster: The gas!
Auric Goldfinger: Such a pity you did not choose to remain with the others, Mr. Solo. However…Ah, Mr. Bond, I thought you were resting in your quarters.
James Bond: Oh, they are delightful, but it’s much too nicebto stay indoors. I ran into Miss Galore, and she suggested that we join you.
Auric Goldfinger: Mr. Solo, Mr. Bond, another of my distinguished guests.
Solo: Hello.
James Bond: Leaving us so soon, Mr. Solo?
Auric Goldfinger: Unfortunately, he has a pressing engagement.
Solo: Yeah. I’d like to get started, Goldfinger. Boy!
James Bond: Ah, when you gotta go, you gotta go.
Auric Goldfinger: My plane will get you to New York on time…With your excess luggage.
James Bond: Allow me.
Auric Goldfinger: My chauffeur’s an excellent driver. You’ll be at the airport in a few minutes. Goodbye, Mr. Solo. Some other time, perhaps.
James Bond: Happy landings, old boy.
Pussy Galore: I found him under the model.
James Bond: Operation Grand Slam. I did enjoy your briefing.
Auric Goldfinger: So did I.
Johnny: He’s on the move!
Felix Leiter: Slow down. Don’t crowd him.
Solo: Are you blind or something? You missed the turn.
Felix Leiter: They’ve turned to the right just ahead here somewhere.
Johnny: Where’s this old pal of yours headed?
Felix Leiter: 10 will get you 1, it’s a drink or a dame.
Felix Leiter: Dead.
Johnny: Mechanical failure, maybe.
Felix Leiter: Unless he switched it off.
Johnny: Why would he do that?
Felix Leiter: Drive to the farm. It’s all we can do.
Johnny: Right.
Pussy Galore: Thank you.
Auric Goldfinger: Your share of Operation Grand Slam will make you a very rich woman, my dear.
Pussy Galore: Why else would I be in it, Mr. Goldfinger?
Auric Goldfinger: You’ll retire to England, I suppose?
Pussy Galore: No, I’ve spotted a little island in the Bahamas. I’ll hang up a sign, “No trespassing,” and go back to nature.
Auric Goldfinger: Yes, Kisch?
Kisch: Two men in a car with binoculars. Touts looking for racing tips.
Auric Goldfinger: There’s another possibility, however. Kisch, ask Mr. Bond to join us. We were quite right to spare Mr. Bond’s life in Switzerland if those gentlemen are his friends. Let’s convince them he needs no assistance. For their benefit, Pussy, let’s make him as happy as possible. I suggest you change into something more suitable.
Pussy Galore: Certainly. Business before pleasure.
Kisch: He wants you.
Auric Goldfinger: Ah, Mr. Bond. Sit down, please. Mint julep? Traditional, but satisfying.
James Bond: Yes, thanks. Sour mash, but not too sweet, please. You disappoint me, Goldfinger. You know Operation Grand Slam simply won’t work. And incidentally, Delta 9 nerve gas is fatal.
Auric Goldfinger: You are unusually well-informed, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: You’ll kill 60,000 people uselessly.
Auric Goldfinger: American motorists kill that many every two years.
James Bond: Yes, well, I’ve worked out a few statistics of my own. $15 billion in gold bullion weighs 10,500 tons. 60 men would take 12 days to load it onto 200 trucks. Now, at the most, you’re gonna have two hours before the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines move in and make you put it back.
Auric Goldfinger: Who mentioned anything about removing it? The julep tart enough for you?
James Bond: You plan to break into the world’s largest bank, but not to steal anything? Why?
Auric Goldfinger: Go on, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: Mr. Ling, the red Chinese agent at the factory, he’s a specialist in nuclear fission. But of course! His government’s given you a bomb.
Auric Goldfinger: I prefer to call it an atomic device. It’s small, but particularly dirty.
James Bond: Cobalt and iodine?
Auric Goldfinger: Precisely.
James Bond: If you explode it in Fort Knox, the, uh, entire gold supply of the United States will be radioactive for…57 years.
Auric Goldfinger: 58, to be exact.
James Bond: I apologize, Goldfinger. It’s an inspired deal. They get what they want, economic chaos in the West, and the value of your gold increases many times.
Auric Goldfinger: I conservatively estimate 10 times.
James Bond: Brilliant. But the atomic device, as you call it, is already obviously in this country.
Auric Goldfinger: Obviously.
James Bond: But bringing it to Fort Knox undetected could be risky, very risky.
Auric Goldfinger: On the contrary, Mr. Bond, the risk is all on your side. If the authorities should attempt to locate it,who knows where it might be exploded, eh? Perhaps the Polaris submarine pens at New London, Cape Kennedy, near the White House. But we are speculating idly. Operation Grand Slam will be successful. You will be there to see for yourself. Too closely for comfort, I’m afraid.
Auric Goldfinger: Forgive me, Mr. Bond, but I must arrange to separate my gold from the late Mr. Solo.
James Bond: As you said, he had a pressing engagement.
Auric Goldfinger: Ah, very chic, Miss Galore. Don’t you agree? Please entertain Mr. Bond for me, Pussy. I’ll join you both later.
Pussy Galore: Well, how about it, handsome? Don’t you think it’s time we got to know each other socially?
James Bond: Well, the new Miss Galore. Where do you hide your gold knuckles in this outfit?
Pussy Galore: Oh, I, uh, never carry weapons after business hours.
James Bond: Yeah? So you’re off duty.
Pussy Galore: I’m completely defenseless.
James Bond: So am I.
Felix Leiter: That’s my James.
James Bond: Beautiful place Goldfinger has here.
Pussy Galore: Yes. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.
James Bond: Too bad it all has to end tomorrow morning. He’s quite mad, you know. Well, now, what do we have here?
Felix Leiter: 007 seems to have the situation well in hand. Come on, I’m bushed. Let’s get back to the motel.
James Bond: You’re quite a girl, Pussy.
Pussy Galore: I’m strictly the outdoor type.
James Bond: I’d like to think you’re not in all of this caper.
Pussy Galore: Skip it. I’m not interested. Let’s go.
James Bond: What would it take for you to see things my way?
Pussy Galore: A lot more than you’ve got.
James Bond: How do you know?
Pussy Galore: I don’t want to know.
James Bond: Isn’t it customary to grant a condemned man his last request?
Pussy Galore: You’ve asked for this. Get up.
James Bond: Certainly.
Pussy Galore: Ooh!
James Bond: There. Now, let’s both play.
Pussy Galore: Pussy Galore to Champagne leader. Commence Rock-a-bye Baby. Good luck.
Pilot: Speed, 220. Wind check, westerly. Champagne leader to Champagne section. Commence dive now. Ready for Rock-a-bye Baby. Commence spray on countdown. Five, four, three, two, zero.
Pilot: Champagne leader to Grand Slam task force leader. The baby is asleep. I repeat, the baby is asleep. We’re going home now. Out.
Kisch: Chafoo!
Auric Goldfinger: Good morning, Mr. Bond. For once, you’re exactly where I want you.
Brigadier: The bomb’s here. Let’s get moving, brigadier.
Felix Leiter: Let’s get moving, brigadier.
Brigadier: Right, Jack. Move in.
Jack: Move in, commando tactics.
Soldier: Minimum offensive fire until I signal bomb has been neutralized.
Jack: Minimum offensive fire…
Soldier: Come on.
Jack: Until I signal bomb has been neutralized. Bomb disposal unit to accompany dog.
Auric Goldfinger: Goodbye, Mr. Bond.
Auric Goldfinger: Mr. Ling, it is merely a matter of timing and…
Mr. Ling: Goldfinger! Please, Mr. Gold!
Auric Goldfinger: He’s one of them! So’s the girl! I’ll get her! You get the door open!
Kisch: We’re trapped. The bomb. I’ll take the fuse out. Don’t be a fool! You can be a hero! I’m not! No, no no! No! Ahh!
Soldier: Come on, you boys! Get going! Hurry up!
James Bond: What kept you?
Felix Leiter: You okay, James? Where’s your butler friend?
James Bond: Oh, he blew a fuse. Three more ticks and Mr. Goldfinger would have hit the jackpot. Did you get him?
Felix Leiter: Not yet, but he won’t get far.
James Bond: And Pussy?
Felix Leiter: She helped us switch the gas in the canisters. By the way, what made her call Washington?
James Bond: I must have appealed to her maternal instincts.
Felix Leiter: Come on, James. Get aboard. You can’t keep the President waiting.
James Bond: Special plane, lunch at the White House. How come?
Felix Leiter: The President wants to thank you personally.
James Bond: Oh, it was nothing, really.
Felix Leiter: I know that, but he doesn’t.
James Bond: I suppose I’ll be able to get a drink here?
Felix Leiter: I told the stewardess liquor for three.
James Bond: Who are the other two?
Felix Leiter: Oh, there are no other two.
James Bond: Goodbye, Felix.
Felix Leiter: So long, James. Good luck.
James Bond: Thank you, brigadier.
Brigadier: Good luck.
Auric Goldfinger: I’m glad to have you aboard, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: Well, congratulations on your promotion, Goldfinger. Are you having lunch at the White House, too?
Auric Goldfinger: In two hours, I shall be in Cuba. And you have interfered with my plans for the last time, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: It’s very dangerous to fire guns in planes. I even had to warn Pussy about it. By the way, where is she?
Auric Goldfinger: I will deal with her later. At the moment, she is where she ought to be. At the controls.
James Bond: Pussy!
Pussy Galore: What happened? Where’s Goldfinger?
James Bond: Playing his golden harp.
Pussy Galore: It’s no good!
James Bond: Oh, no, you don’t. This is no time to be rescued.
Shirley Bassey: Goldfinger!
He’s the the man with the Midas touch
A spider’s touch
Such a cold finger
Beckons you to enter his web of sin
But don’t go in
He loves only gold!
Only gold!
Only gold!
He loves gold!