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Around The World In 80 Days CD1

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Yes, it is possible!
Man can fly!
No, this can't be happening!
A chicken? How bizarre.
Even if a flightless bird|could ascend into the stratosphere
the lack of oxygen would make|breathing nearly impossible.
Also, he's wearing pajamas|so this must be...
- A dream.|- Precisely.
But we are still, however,|going to crash and it will hurt.
The bank's being robbed!
- Quickly!|- Surround the building!
Go that way! You go this way!
There he is!
- Come on!|- After him, men!
That way!
- He came this way. I'm sure of it.|- Come on!
Come on, mates! Keep up!
Sorry, sir.
Today is the day I will finally achieve|what has been deemed impossible.
Man can break|the 50-mile-per-hour speed barrier.
And you're lucky|to be a part of it, Pierre.
- It's Jean Michel, sir.|- Yes.
We will make history.|Or we will die trying.
- Die?|- This is very exciting.
That's it!|I refuse to be catapulted,
electrocuted, or have my internal organs|disrupted any longer!
I quit!
He is a very sick man!
The electrocution was not my fault!
You refused to wear|the rubber underpants!
We're looking for a bank robber.
Is there no man brave enough|to be my valet?
Oh... Aah!
I'm your new valet.
Uh... I must commend|the valet service
on their impeccable foresight.
But they know I only|accept French valets.
Yes. Oh! Oui! Oui!
I come from a long line|of French valets.
On my father's side.|Very, very French.
- But your accent.|- My father French. Never speak.
My mother Chinese and never shuts up.|All the children pick up her accent.
Very well.
Will you be willing to risk your life|to challenge the laws of physics?
- Yes. Uh, and I can sing, too.|- Excellent. Pop this little hat on.
- He's got to be in here.|- He's this way!
And the throttle in your right hand|controls the speed.
- How do I stop?|- Godspeed!
Uh...
Twenty-five miles per hour.|Yes, the pressure's stable-ish.
We need more speed, man.
Waah! Wee-yoo!
Forty miles per hour.|Hang on in there, my good man.
Forty-seven.
Forty-eight.
Forty-nine.
Eureka! We've done it!
Uh...
Waaah!
I say, I say. Uh, good morning.
- I'm looking for a man with...|- Over here!
There he is. There's my valet.
Sorry! New valet.
Whoa!
Whoa!
- Good morning.|- Good morning.
You'll be able to let go any second.
The pack will run out of steam
in exactly three, two, one.
Now.
Look out!
Well done!|We've broken the human speed barrier.
Good-bye, sir.
It's been very nice valeting for you.
Let's... do it again soon.
Please, wait!
With you as my brave valet,|I can test all my inventions.
No!
Spread out!
- Cover that...|- Yes.
- I take the job.|- Splendid!
I can't wait to present|my results to the Academy.
Too kind. Too kind. Thank you.
And with this grant to develop|new applications for copper wire,
Dr. Ramsey invented this.
Needless to say,|the Royal Academy of Science
declared this crackpot|mentally incompetent,
and he was duly dispatched|to a lunatic asylum.
Sir. I have an urgent|announcement for you. Here.
Don't just stand there. Read it.
Oh. Um...
"It is with great distress
that Scotland Yard announces
that the Bank of England|has been robbed."
My stolen Jade Buddha stolen?|You blighter!
You gave me every assurance that|the Bank of England was impenetrable!
Sir, sir, I said, "Impregnable."
It's the same thing, you idiot!
Please, please, not the quills!
Lord Salisbury!
Please contact General Fang|and inform her, no Buddha, no deal.
To forgo your obligation|would be dishonorable, Lord Kelvin.
A woman in the Royal Academy?
The Jade Buddha was delivered|by us to the Bank of England.
- What happens while in British hands...|- Is absolutely your concern.
Colonel Kitchner,|chief of Scotland Yard,
please inform General Fang what other|items were stolen from the bank.
Nothing else.
Exactly.
It seems your little land dispute|has spilled over onto our noble shore.
Until the Jade Buddha|is back in my possession,
you and your cause will receive no|British military assistance whatsoever.
Kitchner.
My agents will retrieve|the Jade Buddha again, Lord Kelvin.
This time, do not let it|slip through your fingers.
A female general.
What sort of pathetic man|takes orders from a woman?
Cor!
- Come away from here.|- Oh, Dad. Can't we stay?
My wind-powered pulley system
circulates the house with fresh air.
Kitchen items are to be placed|on the white boat,
and the blue is for laundry.
But most importantly,|this supplies the house
with a running current of electricity.
Electricity.
This is my comprehensive|data schedule and list of regulations.
It's quite simple. You're never|to divert one iota from my plans.
I must live my life|with total efficiency
to maximize my inventing capacity,
thus enabling me to do|the most I can for mankind.
Uh, Mr. Fogg, you are a noble,|precise gentleman.
Thank you. Uh... sorry.|What was your name? Ahem.
Passport. Too.
Passepartout.
Bottled light.
A miracle.
Hardly. Just undiscovered science
from an American|named Thomas Edison.
It turns on with a whistle.
Please don't do that.
Ah, I see your eye is drawn
to what I hope will one day|be my crowning achievement.
A giant moth?
- It's a flying machine.|- It can fly?
Yes.
No. But it will, one day.
When I've worked out the problem|with the steering cables
and that damn chicken.
One day it will transport people|through the air.
Perhaps over entire oceans.
Uh-oh.
I think I'm going to have|to make a rule for this.
Dear Father:
I will find the fastest way|back to China...
to make our village safe once again.
Passepartout?
Departure for the Royal Academy|of Science in two minutes.
Prepare my urban transport device.
It's the shoes|with little wheels on them.
Clear the way. Clear the way.
Mr. Fogg coming through.|Watch out! Watch out!
Excuse me. Out of way.
- Gangway.|- Fogg's arrived.
- Gangway. Ooh!|- Hey!
That makes it exactly|ten minutes before noon.
That will be all.
Gentlemen.
Today I have proved that man
can break the 50-mile-per-hour|speed barrier
without disrupting|his internal organs.
Where is your Royal Academy|of Science authorization?
What am I thinking? What a fool.
That would mean that you|were a real scientist!
By your definition,|a real scientist's objective
would be to prevent man from progress.
We live in a golden age, Fogg.
Everything worth discovering|has been discovered.
Yet ridiculous dreamers|like you insist
on a past filled with dinosaurs...
and evolution.
And on a future filled
with motorized vehicles,
radio waves,
and flying machines!
Confound it! The bloody|Bank of England is a madhouse!
Rumor has it the bloke's a foreigner.|An Asian chap.
Rumor has it the bloke's a foreigner.
Nothing.
Yes, I heard it was a Chinese fellow,|and he acted alone.
No. Actually,|they say he was Norwegian.
In fact, though, it was a gang|of elderly Norwegians.
I heard it from a very reliable source
that it was a gang|of redheaded elderly Norwegians
with very tiny feet.
It's about time|someone robbed that bank.
Like this very institution,
the Bank of England is outdated.
As usual, your contempt|for tradition is appalling.
You rest on your traditions,|if you prefer,
but, as with this bank robber,|progress waits for no one.
So now you're an expert|on the bank thief as well.
Give us the benefit|of your ineffable wisdom, Fogg.
Twenty-six minutes ago,|a ship left Dover for Paris.
From there, the thief|takes the Orient Express,
where he transfers to a steamer,|from Istanbul to India.
In little over a month,|that man could be in China.
If we're to believe Fogg's calculations,|he will have circled the globe
and returned to England in a fortnight.
Actually, by my calculations, it would|be closer to, uh, exactly 80 days.
Outstanding idea.
Well, then, Fogg,
let's see you circumnavigate the world
in 80 days.
I... That would be|a fruitless use of my time.
I'm on the verge of numerous...
countless... scientific breakthroughs.
You coward. Admit it.|It cannot be done.
It can! I could do it.
A wager.
£10,000.
Unlike you and your colleagues,|money does not inspire me.
I believe every man has his price.
Even you, o noble Phileas Fogg.
There must be something I could offer|that would be worthy of your time.
There is. Your position as head|of the Royal Academy.
I could lead Britain|and the rest of the world
into a new age of progress|and discovery.
- Fair enough.|- What?
I, Lord Kelvin, hereby vow
to surrender my position as minister|of science to Phileas Fogg...
- No!|- No! No!
If he can circumnavigate|the globe...
in no more than 80 days.
But if he cannot,
he must never set foot|in this academy again,
he must tear down that abhorrent eyesore|he calls a laboratory,
and he must swear...
never to invent again.
Just as I always suspected, Fogg.
You promise so much, yet you deliver...
oh, nothing.
- I'll take your wager.|- What did you say?
I'll take your wager!
He did it.
Then it's done.
A man who has never set foot|out of England circling the globe.
This is going to be rather amusing.
History won't remember your amusement,|but it will be hard-pressed to forget
the moment I'm standing on the very top|step of the Royal Academy of Science.
By the strike of noon,
after I, Phileas Fogg,|have traveled around the world
in 80 days!
Oh, dear.
Mr. Fogg, we all pack and ready to go.|Mr. Fogg, are you in here?
Phileas! Phileas! Phileas!
- Uh...|- Mr. Fogg, are you well, sir?
Huh?
Uh, Passepartout.
Would you... sit with me a moment?
Yes, sir.
I risked everything,|my entire life's work.
For something you believe in.
Nothing could make|more sense than that, sir.
You are honorable, Passepartout.
But I'm afraid this was|a calamitous lapse of judgment.
- Mr. Fogg?|- Yes?
- Let your family...|- There is no one left to tell.
This house and my inventions|are all I have.
And a brave French valet that will help|you make it around the world in 80 days.
- You really believe we can succeed?|- Yes.
Yes. Yes. Yes!
You're mad. We'll be sliced to pieces|before we reach India.
We're with you, sir!
Good luck!
Halt!
- Quite a contraption here, Mr. Fogg.|- Thank you, Inspector.
But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to detain|you and your valet until further notice.
This here doohickey is in violation|of the city's new vehicle code.
Vehicle code?
Code 431.
All vehicles|must be powered by horses.
Or other indigenous|quadruped creatures of the like,
excluding giraffes and...
You're driveling. Stand aside.
I'm about to embark upon|a journey around the world.
Not in this monstrosity,|you're not. No!
- Mm-mm.|- That's hot.
It's... Ow!
Time to go.|We have a boat to catch.
Stealing a police vehicle is not|an acceptable way to begin our journey.
- Not stealing. Borrowing.|- Excuse us.
We're borrowing this vehicle|to catch our ship to Paris,
if someone could inform|the appropriate authorities.
Bloody hell! Me brain's leakin'!
Ahh! Damn that nincompoop Fix.
What's the point of hiring|a corrupt police officer
if he can't abuse the law properly?
- Kitchner.|- Sir!
Tell Fix to pack his bags.
- He's going on a trip.|- Right away, sir.
Hmm. Smart man.
Passepartout, tell this|impudent fellow we must
leave within six and a half hours, or we|miss our connection in Constantinople.
Yes, sir. Please.|We are in a great hurry.
- Passepartout?|- Yes?
In French.
Sacre bleu, la champignon,
chateau, bien, françoise, voilà,|ooh-la-la, foie de gras.
- What did he say?|- Uh...
He say...
- What?|- He says not to worry.
The next train will leave in five hours.|Good time for sightseeing.
Passepartout, this is|a scientific expedition, not a holiday!
I will not miss this train.
Ah!
- Very amazing.|- What?
What does it say?
Eddie Thomason will be|showing his inventions.
Thomas Edison? Here in Paris?
What a chance for you|to meet another great inventor.
I would quite like to tell him|about my whistle modification.
Good idea.
See? Exposition. Science.
I assure you these are not|the works of Thomas Edison.
Uh, I think he is|somewhere around here.
Wait a moment. This isn't science.
This is art.
- Yeah.|- Hmm.
That painting is highly inaccurate.
It's not|supposed to be accurate.
The artist views reality|through imagination
rather than simply recording it.
It is called "Impressionism."
Well, um, I'm not impressed.
Trees are not violet,|grass is not charcoal,
and a man cannot...
fly.
You feel something.
You dream of flying.
Or of naked men.
- Sometimes.|- Ah.
The flying. N-N-Not the men.
I am glad you like my painting.|Monique La Roche.
Phileas Fogg. I must say, it's a lot|better than these amateurs.
What did he say?
Oh, no.
Non.
Goodness. What was that all about?
Well, a wealthy gentleman|bought my painting for a lot of money.
Champagne for everyone!
I'm still looking for Mr. Eddie.|Nice painting.
Have you considered|a career in schematic drawing?
No. It would be far too limiting.
At least your work|shows genuine promise.
Thank you. Those I painted|many months ago.
I was lacking inspiration.
I found some men|to help me find Mr. "Edimon."
- This way.|- Thank you. Thank you.
He's very eager.
Get him!
Oh, no, no, no, no.|Oh, it's terrible, no?
No, no, it's...
- clever.|- Oh.
Hmm. Yes.
- He's a clown.|- Mm-hmm.
And yet...
he's incredibly angry.
The irony is, uh, terrifying.
- Is that good?|- Is it?
Ah, this is interesting.
Without opposable thumbs,|a dog could never play poker.
Yes, they can.
Where have you seen|a dog playing poker?
Right there.
Perhaps I'm not the best judge.
Bandits! They come to take away|all the paintings!
- Quickly! Come this way!|- Passepartout!
Go, go, go!
Thank you, Miss La Roche.|You may just have saved our trip.
- There you are.|- I would, uh...
- I would like to repay you.|- Take me with you.
- What?|- I'm stifled here. Pigeonholed.
They think of me only|as a coat-check girl!
- Why?|- Because I am the coat-check girl.
- Ah.|- Look.
The leading art critic in Paris.
Look what he wrote|about one of my paintings.
- I can't read this. It's French.|- I wish I couldn't.
Why do you carry it?
When I do succeed,|I can throw it in his face, but for now,
I need a world journey to inspire me.
I'm inspired to get us|back on schedule.
Let's see. Wind velocity|approximately twelve knots,
Factoring in air density...
Outstanding!
Passepartout, onward! Ah.
There we go. Passepartout,|tell him to keep the change.
Uh...|Fromage, por favor.
We are going around|the world in 80 days!
The balloon cannot|support all this weight!
Your hot air should compensate, no?
Get off!
- What are they doing?|- They're being disorderly.
Hey! Let go! Let go!
Hey! Passepartout!|My valise! It has all my money in it.
Whoo!
Hey, lady, lady, lady! It's my bag.
No, that is my bag.
No, that's not your bag. It's my bag!
- No!|- You crazy.
Ah. Uh...
Yes.
That tickles!
You took my bag.
Mr. Fogg!
- Good catch!|- Thank you.
Ooh!
Those are the gallery bandits.
Oh, yes!
Sorry?
Ah.
He stole my purse!|This devil stole my purse!
My bag! He took my... Ah!
- We've stolen that old lady's purse.|- Huh. Here.
We must help Passepartout.|How do I make this go lower?
What are you doing?|Decrease the overall weight...
- That's not going to work.|- Yes, it is.
Physics, no?
Yes.
Ahhh...
Ooh! Ay! Owww.
Bonjour.
Bonjour.
- Eh?|- Bye-bye!
Wake up, lady! Wake up, lady!
Wake up! Lady, wake up!
- Bye, mama.|- Merci.
Bye, baby.
Ohh...
Very impressive. I'd have let go by now.
The statue's grabbing his trousers.
Ahhh.
I don't think it's doing it on purpose.
Oh, dear.
Help!
Well done, Passepartout.
We're still on schedule|despite those dogged thieves.
Yes, yes. Thank you.
Those art thieves|seemed to recognize you.
- I look like someone they know.|- Some other Frenchman, perhaps?
- So, where can we drop you off?|- We're not stopping.
Once we land to board|the Orient Express, you are free to go.
Thank you so much.
- For what?|- I'm free to go with you.
I did not say you were free to come.
- I said you were free to go.|- Where?
- Anywhere.|- Thank you. I will go with you.
- No, you will not, Miss La Roche.|- Monique.
Miss... Monique!
There! Now we are getting along.
Comme c'est beau.
C'est magnifique.
Toutes ces couleurs.
Look at the sunrise.|There is only one word for it.
- "Magical."|- Miss La Roche!
I refuse to allow you|to continue traveling with us.
I'm not traveling with you.|I'm making my own way.
Maybe you shouldn't travel with me.
This is what happens|when you leave your home.
You meet... people!
Why are you keeping up this ruse?
Perhaps I should inform Mr. Fogg,|and together he and I can speculate.
A very sacred object|was stolen from my village.
I have taken it back.
Incroyable.
For many centuries, the Jade Buddha|has protected my people.
It has never left our village until now.
And those art thieves. Who are they?
The Black Scorpions.|They work for an evil warlord. Fang.
She wants the Buddha|so she can take over my village.
I must return the Jade Buddha|to protect Lanzhou.
Mr. Fogg is the fastest way.
Perhaps, then,|we can help one another.
I will keep your secret,|and you convince Mr. Fogg
Keep this Dummkopf in his seat,|or we throw him off!
Merely pointing out if they coordinated|their coal-shoveling technique,
They could maximize our speed.
When we reach Constantinople, I suggest|you board a train we are not on.
- Uh, Mr. Fogg, she must come with us.|- And why is that?
Uh, we just discovered that we are|related from the same family.
I'm her father's second cousin's sister|on my mother's side. French.
Monsieur Fogg. If I make the train|go faster, I can come with you, oui?
Yes.
I bid you farewell, Miss La Roche.
If there's anything else you would like,|just let us know, Miss La Roche.
Ah! Voilà.
Champagne with your first-class seats,|Mademoiselle La Roche.
Merci.
- Champagne?|- No, thank you.
- Merci.|- Monsieur.
A tea?
Okay.
How to make English tea.
Precisely 96 degrees.
Ooh.
Excuse me, sir.
- Fogg's valet!
- A jade Buddha!|- This is not a jade Buddha.
- Oh, yes, it is!|- You're right. But I'm not a valet.
Oh. Really?
No!
Owww!
Me bloody nose!
Let me in!|You're gonna pay for scorchin' me willy!
Heh-heh-heh-heh. Now I gotcha.
Ow! Oh! Ow!
Ahhh!
You're under arrest!
Ah! Ooh! Ow!
Sorry!
Huh?
Why the devil are we stopping?
Prince Hapi would be honored|to have Fogg
and his traveling companions|at his banquet.
How very flattering.
But please inform Prince "Happy"|that we are on a very tight schedule.
Prince Hapi demands it.
Then Prince Hapi|will have to get accustomed
To not getting everything he wants.
It is magnificent.
Mr. Fogg, his house|is even bigger than yours.
His collection, his taste...|It is exquisite.
Yes, it is.
Not good.|Very old. Look. Broken.
And where is His Highness?
Oh. The prince is also|a talented musician.
If I did nothing|but lounge about the palace,
I'd learn to pluck a few notes.
Let's make this brief.|I'll pose for photographs,
wearing a turban,|holding an atlas...
Mademoiselle.
How magical that our paths should cross.|Do you believe in fate?
Is that what you call it
when one stops a train|and kidnaps its passengers?
Phileas Fogg.
Please forgive me,
but I feel like Aphrodite herself|descended to Earth.
What is a ravishing|woman like you...
- I never think when I'm naked.|- I do. In the bath.
- Yes. Well, I mean...|- No!
Don't touch it!
- That is my most treasured possession.|- I was only pointing. I was just...
Don't even point.
Rodin.
Yes. A Rodin.
Oh.
I have never seen a more beautiful...|muscular form.
Well, I can assure you,|I'm in much better shape now.
Incroyable. It is a sculpture of you!
Yes.
"Hapi Birthday.|Your pal, Rodin."
- Come, my dear. Let us dine.|- Yes.
Ah, Mr. Fogg, please join us.
No, sorry. We are on a tight schedule.
We will join you, actually.|But just one drink.
After the duke and the duchess|sat down in the bath,
I realized I forgot|to put on my bathing suit.
I'm such a fool.
Always embarrassing myself|in front of visiting dignitaries.
But you know how that can be,|right, Phil?
Uh, yes.
Uh, it's Phileas, actually.
So, Foggy, tell me.|I heard you're an inventor.
Well, I try to apply myself|to thinking of new ways
to help better mankind,|if that's what you mean.
Well, I'm not an inventor,
but I did develop a new way|of irrigating dry land
so that no one in my kingdom|ever has to be hungry.
Oh.
Mr. Fogg invented wheelie shoes.
Not now, Passepartout.
Oh.
Mmm.
- Miss La Roche.|- Hmm?
It is mesmerizing,|the way your face illuminates.
Oh...
Her discoloration could be|an allergic reaction
or a mild form of hives.
Although I've noticed a certain
luminescent glow about her|complexion when she's drawing.
And sometimes, when she's...|concentrating on her latest work,
her ears will actually flutter.
- It's rather fetching.|- Guess who else was in this bath.
U.S. President Rutherford B. Hayes.
Shouldn't we be going?|We have a schedule to keep.
Thank you for your hospitality.
It's been absolutely fascinating,|but I'm afraid we must push on.
Yes.
Very well.|The gentlemen are free to go.
But Miss La Roche...|stays here with me.
- To be my wife.|- Hmm?
Yes. Wife number seven.
- You have seven wives?|- One for each day of the week.
- This is absolutely ridiculous!|- No more talk!
Prince Hapi has spoken!
Well, we did say one drink.|Passepartout, we're leaving.
I can tell when we're not wanted.
Monsieur Fogg!
Do Tuesdays work for you?
- Good-bye.|- Thank you!
No!
Halt!
Or Hapi gets smashed!
Please! Anything but my statue of me!
Miss La Roche,|please join us, if you will.
- All of you, drop your weapons.|- Do as he says!
- Get in the tent.|- Everybody!
- Now!|- Let's go. Come on.
Now, take off your clothes|and throw them... Uh...
I assure you the statue is not|armed... harmed in any way.
Get them!
His arm!
Thank you, Phileas.|That was very heroic.
Yes, and needlessly time-consuming.
This is exactly why|I should never have let you come along.
Kill them!
I want my arm!
No!
Sir! I've received a telegram|from Inspector Fix.
- A-ha!|- According to him,
the bank thief and Fogg's valet|are the same man.
Fogg doesn't realize|he's transporting the bank thief!
Or does he?|He did leave town in quite a hurry.
Wouldn't you say, Lord Rhodes?
Indeed, Lord Salisbury.
Eh, evading arrest,
stealing a police vehicle,
sounds rather incriminating to me.
One can almost deduce
this entire bet was merely a ruse
to facilitate his escape.
- Don't you agree, Lord Kelvin?|- Yes.
Brilliant, Lord Salisbury.
I shall name a beef-related entrée|after you in your honor! Kitchner!
- Sir!|- Inform your men at Scotland Yard
that Phileas Fogg is without a doubt|the man who robbed the Bank of England!
- Where are they now?|- They're taking a train across India,
from Bombay to Calcutta.
Thank God we own India!
I want their faces|in every police station,
army barracks, post office,|railway station and outhouse in India!
We're going to stop Fogg|and get my Jade Buddha back
by any means necessary!
Agra is where we will capture them!
Intercept them at Agra!
Carry on, Cutter!
Move it! Move it! Fall in!
And they were|the greatest kung fu boxers.
Ten Tigers of Canton.
Brothers in arms.
They fought to keep order|and justice in China.
The most famous of Ten Tigers|is Wong Fei Hung.
Armed with|only bamboo sticks...
It's salivating on... please.
Is this your goat?
Did they really fight like tigers?
Each Tiger have their own|animal fighting style.
Like tiger.
Snake. Snake head, snake tail,|snake mouth, snake tongue!
Where are my calculations?
Monkey!
The goat! Passepartout, I'm being|attacked by a ferocious animal!
- It has small horns.|- Sorry, Mr. Fogg.
Please keep that inconsiderate|beast away from me.
And refrain from ridiculous anecdotes.
Why do you not like his story, Mr. Frog?
It's Fogg. Phileas Fogg.
How could a man learn to defend himself|by watching animals behave like...
- animals?|- It is famous legend.
- A ridiculous legend.|- Most legends are born from truth.
Yes.
But all truths are born from facts.
Solid, tangible facts|that can be calculated
and written down on paper.
And then eaten by a goat.
Mr. Feelsillious,|when I tell the story
of the man who circled|the entire world in 80 days,
would that not be a legend?
Only if the man's name|was Feelsillious Frog.
- What the blazes is it now?|- Come this way! Come on!
Look sharp, now. Get 'em!
Find these men!
Uh-oh. Time to go. They seem to think|we robbed the Bank of England.
Preposterous. This is a desperate|attempt by Lord Kelvin
to impede my journey.
I am a British citizen.|I have nothing to fear.
Except bullets.
Listen up!|Have you seen these men?
Come on!
Any word on the bank thieves, sir?
They were on the train.|Keep your rifles ready.
They won't get past us, sir!
Ladies, have you seen these two men?
Look closely. They're very dangerous.
They're everywhere!|This is not going to work!
- Just act like ladies.|- Not a problem.
Hello. Hello! Ah.
- I feel faint.|- Phileas, women are not that weak!
No, but I am.
Hello, darling.|What can I do for you, eh?
What nice hand,|nice eye, nice hair...
Hang about!
Mr. Fogg, what are you doing?|This is no time to sleep.
Stop, stop.
Go, go, go! Get us out of Agra quickly.
Passepartout, we did it.
Hey, wrong way.
Ah!
Phileas? No! No!
Aah! Run! Run, Passepartout!
Ah! Ah!
Ahhh!
Fogg's valet! Heh!
- What are you doing?|- Now I gotcha!
Hand over the Jade Buddha!
Oh!
You're under arrest! Whoa!|Watch me plums! Ooh!
Now you get him very mad! Let's go.
Stop, or I'll arrest you as well!
Run!
- Which way?|- Down!
Again!
Down!
Jump!
- Go, go, go!|- What's upsetting him?
- He wants the Jade Buddha!|- Then give it to him!
- Phileas, wake up!|- Please, please. You must go.
- My husband will be home soon.|- Phileas!
Ow! Ay!
Phileas, help!
Leave her alone! I'll protect you!
Ah!
I'm here, my dear.
Uh, that stumble was|simply to buy me time.
This cane is not as it appears.
If I depress this button, it would|deploy a weapon more deadly than yours.
This... is...
a strange knife.
Isn't it a sextant?
Yes.
Huh.
- Are you all right, my dear?|- Phileas, that was so unlike you. Ah!
You men, come with me!
You'd better put this on.
Perhaps I should wear|women's clothing more often.
Oh.
We should run.
- What, now?|- Mm-hmm.
Yes, we should run.
- Break down the door!|- Okay.
No, not me brains!
- Give me the Jade "Bu-ddha"!|- Okay, okay.
What's "Bu-ddha"?
Get ready to jump! Now!
It is him, the Englishman|who robbed the Bank of England!
He's escaping in that palkee-garry!
Hey, there he is!
They'll check all trains heading east.
If we could make it to the coast, we|can't sail into Singapore or Hong Kong.
- They're both British colonies.|- Does England own everything in Asia?
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