Treasure Island
- PG
- Year:
- 1950
- 96 min
- 1,113 Views
- Happy birthday, Mrs. Hawkins.
- Yes, Mrs. Hawkins.
Younger every year.
None of your frippery, John Harrow.
But music and friends do make you feel...
- Where's Jim?
- He's in the kitchen, I think.
Just put a head on that one, John.
It's going to thunder and lightning.
Then you best go
lock yourself up in a closet.
You made that cake?
No, I didn't.
And I'll thank you not to say I did.
Jim Hawkins made a cake!
Jim Hawkins made a cake!
No, I didn't.
Only girls make cakes.
My mother made this cake herself.
Surely she had to have
a cake for her birthday.
Jim Hawkins dropped a cake!
Stop following me around.
Upon my soul!
Why, Jim, you didn't go and bake a...?
Here's the cake you made, Mother.
I trust it's good.
It's the best cake ever.
I raise a mug to Jim Hawkins,
proprietor of the Admiral Benbow.
- Jim.
- Speech!
- Come on, get up.
- Speech, speech.
Well, I don't know what to say,
but ever since Father died...
...and with Mother having to do the work,
I'm truly glad each time she gets older.
I mean, then I get older too.
And soon I'll be able to do all the work
and won't have to make speeches.
Here she comes.
Everybody to the taproom.
We'll cut the cake in there.
Everybody take a seat.
Oh, Jim, there go the shutters.
- Go up and close them, will you?
- At your service, ma'am.
- Now what?
- I'm scared. Aren't you scared?
No, I'm not.
It's girls that make me nervous.
Why don't you go downstairs,
where there's more room to be scared in.
- I want a bunk with a sea view.
- This way, sir.
Have you seen this man
around here before?
He looks like a seafaring man.
He certainly doesn't belong
to these parts.
Hey!
I want a noggin of rum.
Yes, sir.
Mind, you clod.
Have an eye to that chest.
Here. Now, you never made this voyage,
you understand?
You never seen me
and you don't know nothing.
Get out.
What are you looking for?
Strangers, sonny, strangers.
I don't like strangers
coming aboard me suddenly.
Makes my spine jump
like a porpoise, it does.
- What might your name be?
- Jim Hawkins.
Now, look here, Jim,
you and me's going to be mates.
You'll get a silver
four-penny bit every month...
...if you watches out for strangers and
comes and lets the old captain know...
...when they tops the horizon.
- Well, what manner of strangers?
- Seafaring men.
Well, all seafaring men?
No, no, no, son.
There's a special cut of the jib
to these seafaring men.
But most especially, I want you
to keep your eye open...
...for a seafaring man with one leg.
- A seafaring man with one leg?
- Aye.
Upon my word, sir, what shall I
tell them? What do they want?
Never you mind what they want.
You go on down below
and get me a noggin of rum.
A double noggin, Jim,
because I'm becalmed.
Becalmed on a sea of troubles,
and I've got to fill my sails again.
Yes, sir.
Who is he, Jim? What did he say?
I don't know. Something about seafaring
men with no ears and no legs and no...
Hey, drop anchor, matey.
We'll fill the cask where you lie.
Rum for all hands, say I.
Here's a new port all full of
pretty wenches...
...and strong young buckoes.
Clear the decks for pleasant action.
and that's what makes the world...
...spin on its poles, say I.
Hey, belay there.
- The rum.
- I'm not much on strong liquor, sir.
Besides, we have to go now.
It's getting...
"Go," say ye?
You'll stay.
You'll all stay.
Sit yourselves down on your binnacles.
Jim, matey, the rum.
I ain't like all seafaring men.
Genteel, I am, and a
dove at heart, mates.
Why, I know some seafaring men,
them as boarded a Spanish brig...
...all loaded down with
Castilian dons and their beauteous ladies.
And what did they do?
Genteel like me, ye thinks?
No. They slices them dons
like bread loaves...
...and feeds them to the sharks.
And what did they do
to the beauteous ladies?
Why, after courting their favor,
as it were...
...saving your presence, matey...
...they slits the veins
...and uses their blue blood
to warm their rum.
And then what did they do, matey?
Bless my soul, sir, what else was left?
There was the song, Jim.
Singing by all hands.
Now, come on. We'll all tip the stave.
Come on!
Come on, sing!
Bottle of rum, you old hag!
- Bottle of rum!
- "Bottle of rum!"
We'll tip it again now. Come on!
- Dr. Livesey.
- Mrs. Hawkins.
It was Mother's birthday. We were just
having a little entertainment, doctor.
Well, my compliments, Mrs. Hawkins.
- A little brandy, Jim.
- My pleasure, sir.
Come on, mates. Now we'll tip it again.
- Thought sure we were in for a storm, but...
- Hey! Silence there between decks.
You addressing me, sir?
Is it blowing a gale of wind
you can't hear me? What did I say?
I have only this to say:
I don't know you. But by your look,
if you continue drinking rum...
...the world will soon be rid
of a very dirty scoundrel.
I'll split you double, you...
If you do not lower that cutlass...
...I promise on my honor that you
shall hang at the next assizes.
And furthermore, sir...
...I'm not only a doctor,
I'm magistrate here.
of complaint against you...
...if only for a piece of incivility like this,
I'll have you routed out of here.
Let that suffice?
I ask your patience, sir.
Just a squall
from a poor old sailor man...
...who took too much
rum over his bowsprit.
I ask your pardon.
It was a nice party.
Don't worry, Mrs. Hawkins. Don't worry.
- Goodbye.
- Thank you.
Praise be, Jim, the man was
only full of talk.
But bless my soul, sir.
He certainly can sing.
Well, sonny.
Come here.
Come here, sonny. A little closer.
Here.
- Now, is this here table for my mate Bill?
- I don't know your mate Bill.
- But don't Bill live here?
- No. Nobody but the captain.
Oh, captain, it is?
Truly, sir. I can...
Here comes my old mate Bill now.
Bless his heart, to be sure.
Jim, lad! The rum.
I'm becalmed again.
Come, Bill. You know me.
You know an old shipmate, surely.
- Black Dog.
- Black Dog as ever was.
Come for to see his old shipmate Billy.
- Well, speak up.
- The porter, sonny. Porter.
Well?
Now, Bill, I've been after you, now.
No, by the powers,
and there's an end to it!
If it comes to swinging,
swing one, swing all.
I'll part your dirty wig!
Out, you blubberous barnacle.
Next time I'll sever your gullet.
- Humor him, Jim. I'll be back.
- Where you going?
To Mr. Doolittle's.
I'll get him to ride to Livesey's...
...so he and his constables can come
and get that man out of here at once.
Rum, Jim. Rum.
Are you hurt?
I gotta get away from here, Jim.
I gotta slip my hawsers.
Captain, you've been drinking too much.
Remember, the doctor said...
Doctors is all swabs.
I've lived on rum, I tell you.
It's been meat and drink to me,
man and wife.
And I needs rum now, Jim.
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"Treasure Island" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/treasure_island_22231>.
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