The Twelve Chairs Page #6

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holding up the line.

Animal.

[Spitting]

Thirsty.

Ostap. Ostap!

Yes, old man.

The last chair.

See! We are not

the only smart ones.

Hello, comrades!

[Chuckles]

Hello. Hello, comrades.

Welcome.

[Growls]

Eat.

Take your eyes

off that chair.

I'm gonna check

the window.

[Man]

Mm-hmm.

[Clicks]

I have unfastened

the window latch...

and we will return tonight

after the club has closed.

Shh.

One, two, three!

[Grunts]

- Come on.

- [Grunting Continues]

Come on!

- Chair. Where is the chair?

- You're sitting on it.

Here. Let me do it.

Let me do it!

Well? Well, well,

well, well?

- They're not here.

- What?

They're not here.

The jewels are not here.

It can't be.

It can't be.

It can't be. Do you hear me?

It can't be!

[Door Opens]

What's going on here?

What are you doing?

Where are my jewels?

My jewels were in this chair.

They were your jewels?

What do you mean "were"?

They are.

Are my jewels.

Where are they?

Where are they?

Look around you.

See these chess tables,

all this fine furniture?

This club was built

with them.

When were they found?

Four months ago.

Right on this spot in the old club.

Kaminsky was putting up

a curtain.

He was standing on a chair.

Suddenly, bang, his shoe

went right through the seat...

and all that stuff

came tumbling out...

diamonds, rubies,

necklaces.

It was a miracle.

No, no.

They were mine.

Mine.

[Screaming]

- [Shouting]

- I'd better get the police!

Help.! Police.! Help.!

- See? See? He's mad!

- You! Put that down!

Oh, you wanna play rough, eh?

[Grunts]

That has done it.

Come on.

We better make tracks.

Never hit a policeman.

Never, ever

hit a policeman.

Halt!

- It's too high.

- The horse.

- The horse?

- Jump!

- Come on.

- Halt!

- Come on!

- Halt! Halt!

[Horse Neighs]

[Blowing]

[Sighs]

Why don't you

get rid of that thing?

Listen, old man.

[Sighs]

We have got to split up.

It's the only

sensible thing to do.

The police are looking for

a handsome, young desperado...

and a crazy old man

with a broken chair.

I think I'll do

better without you.

Look, what are you

shaking your head for?

I'm not taking a vote.

I'm telling you something.

This partnership is over,

dissolved, finished.

The company is bankrupt.

Look. Here.

Look, you maniac.

Three kopecks!

How far can we go together

on three kopecks?

I simply can't

afford you anymore!

[Grunts]

[Chair Crashes]

[Crowd Murmuring]

[Murmuring Continues]

[Chattering]

Epilepsy, my friends!

Epilepsy!

The same disease

that struck down...

our own beloved Dostoievsky.

Give.

Give...

from the bottom of your hearts.

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