007之金枪人 The Man with the Golden Gun (1974)【完整台词】

No. The nearest pharmacy.

Dumdum bullets like
this flatten on impact

for maximum wounding effect.

Very nasty.

Yes. I'm sure it is.

But just tell me where
it was made and by whom.

Fortunately it's all in one piece.

20.003 grams.

Which leads us to deduce it was
fired from a 4.2 millimetre gun.

Colthorpe, there's no such
thing as a 4.2 millimetre gun.

The fact that no recognised
munitions manufacturer,

military or civil,
produces such a bullet

doesn't mean it
doesn't exist, 007.

Q Branch have been making
irregular calibres

for most unusual purposes.

And we don't put markings
or serial numbers on them.

Making identification
almost impossible.

You mean to say there's no
way to trace that bullet?

You have no idea what it
went through to get here.

I wouldn't go so far
as to say that.

The workmanship is undemanding

according to our standards.

Soft 23 carat gold
with traces of nickel.

Hardly ever used in
Europe. Comes from India.

The Far East?

Why not India?

Nickel content obviously
too low, 007.

- Lazar?
- Lazar?

Imaginative. Highly specialised.

Yes, I concur.

Well, what the hell is Lazar?

Not what. Who. Portuguese.

Lives in Macau.

Chap who made the bullet, 007.

I hate to interrupt your dinner,

but does Senor Lazar live here?

Lazar.

I was given this address.

Does he... Senor Lazar?

My name's Bond. James Bond.

An unexpected honour, Mr Bond.

Your reputation precedes you.

This way, please.

It would be the proudest
moment of my career

if I could make something
for you, Mr Bond.

A rifle, perhaps?

Now, here we have an
interesting problem.

A custom-built model for a client

who recently lost two
fingers. Please.

He also lost his trigger.

It is housed in the
butt. Squeeze it.

The sights are a bit off.

You have five fingers.

The butt is balanced for
the pressure of three.

That is why you were
one inch too low.

Here you will find only
craftsmanship and quality.

Mass production,

your Walther PPK, for
instance, I leave to others.

What about ammunition?

Designed to individual
requirements whatever they may be.

In gold, if I wanted?

I have already done
that for a client.

I know you have.

Francisco Scaramanga.

My relationship with
a client, Mr Bond,

is strictly confidential.

Like a doctor or priest
with a penitent.

Of course.

Yet you make guns for
fingerless hoodlums,

bullets for assassins.

Mr Bond, bullets do not kill.

It is the finger that
pulls the trigger.

Exactly.

I'm now aiming precisely
at your groin.

So speak, or forever
hold your "piece."

I have never seen Mr Scaramanga.

On a cost-per-bullet basis, he
must be your best customer.

That is true, but unfortunately

he seems only to fire
them occasionally.

When was the last shipment?

Mr Bond, this is
impossible. I cannot...

You're quite right.

An inch too low.

I have just completed an order
for immediate delivery.

Who collects them?

I swear I do not know.

My instructions are
to go the casino.

I am paid and they vanish.

In a few moments,
ladies and gentlemen,

we will be in Hong Kong Harbour,

one of the busiest
ports in the world.

May I remind you to have your
passports and landing cards ready

in order to avoid
unnecessary delay.

On our left is the wreckage of the
famous liner, Queen Elizabeth,

which sank here under mysterious
circumstances in 1971.

Ahead, you can now see Kowloon.

And on your right,
Hong Kong Island.

Taxi.

Follow that Rolls.

Madam, would you be good enough
to move this inverted bedpan?

I'm sorry I'm late,
James, but your signal

from Macau only just
reached the office.

You're a great help, Goodnight.

Now, get on to the licence
bureau and trace that car.

AU603. A green Rolls.

A green Rolls?

A green Rolls-Royce.

There can't be that
many in Hong Kong.

Courtesy cars.

All green Rolls-Royces belong
to the Peninsula Hotel.

You see what a two-year posting

to Staff Intelligence
does for a girl.

James, it's wonderful to see you.

Where are you going?

I need some information.

The subject under surveillance
is occupying Room 602.

I'll buy you dinner
tonight, Goodnight.

But first I have a little
official business to attend to.

Yes, I saw the official business.

Goodnight, would I do that
to you after two years?

Yes, you bloody well would.

- Please.
- I can manage.

Oh, you could open a
door for me, though.

- I open champagne.
- It's a surprise.

Oh, a surprise.

Good afternoon.

A water pistol?

Pass me that robe.

Turn around.

Do you always take a
shower with a pistol?

Put your hands up and
get out of here.

Keep on walking.

But you haven't
answered my question.

Reception. Can I help you?

This is Miss Anders, Room 602.

Put those down.

I see why these packets
carry a government warning.

Give me that.

They certainly can
damage your health.

You're hurting my arm.

I'll break it unless you tell
me where those bullets go.

I can't.

Try.

- He'll kill me.
- Who?

I can't tell you.

Scaramanga.

You see what you can
do when you try?

You work for him?

I don't work for him.

He's... I'm his...

Oh, so he's a lover, too.

Only before he kills.

Bullfighters do the same thing.

Claim it improves the eye.

His eye is on me.
Where can I find him?

I don't know.

I said where?

I don't know where. He
doesn't tell me everything.

I know he has a date at the
Bottoms Up Club tonight.

How will I recognise him?

Tall, slim and dark.

So is my aunt.

Anything distinctive about him?

Yes, but how can I...

He's not like other
people. He has three...

Oh.

Fascinating anatomical tidbit

but probably the
most useless piece

of information I ever heard.

Unless of course the
Bottoms Up is a strip club

and Scaramanga is
performing there.

You'll have to do better.

He usually wears a white
linen suit, black tie,

and jewellery, all gold.

You're improving.

I don't want you to
twist my arm again.

I don't want to either.

So I'll tell you what you're
going to do, Miss Anders.

You're going to take those
golden bullets to Mr Scaramanga

because if he doesn't get them,