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①洞窟発見
Alfred:Bloody hell.
Alfred:Bloody hell.
No, wait, wait, wait!
There must be a million possible combinations, Master Bruce.
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②ゴードンの謝罪
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②ゴードンの謝罪
Alfred:I really am most frightfully sorry it took so long to answer the door, sir.
Strange.
Normally a buzzer sounds when a car comes through the gates.
Jim:I walked.
You two are dirty. What have you been doing?
Bruce:I imagine you have something important to say.
Jim:Yes.
I've been fired from the GCPD.
I won't be able to keep the promise I made you. I wanted to apologize.
Bruce:Your apology's accepted, of course, but... you didn't need to walk here.
A phone call would've been fine.
Jim:I needed the air.
Alfred:No hope for reinstatement then, sir?
Jim:No.
Well, there is a way, but... it's too ugly.
I would have to collect a debt for Penguin.
To prove our friendship.
Bruce:Ah.
And you can't do that, because... he's a bad man.
And the task would be demeaning.
Jim:Well, yes.
Bruce:You were going to find my parents' Killers.
You were going to fight for justice.
You were going to clean up the GCPD.
Change Gotham.
Jim:I had hoped to do that.
Bruce:If you remained at the GCPD, you might still be able to do all those good things, but first... you must do something ugly.
And your personal honor forbids that.
Jim:Yes.
Bruce:Are you not sacrificing the greater good for the sake of your dignity and self-esteem?
For vanity?
Alfred:Steady on, now, Master Bruce.
Manners.
Bruce:He walked all the way here to discuss the issue, Alfred.
I'm simply asking a question.
Surely, sometimes, the right way is also the ugly way.
Alfred:Sometimes a man can't take the right way.
He's dealing with all kinds of business you can't possibly understand yet, because you're still a child.
Bruce:Yes, Alfred, there is still a great deal I don't understand yet.
Please forgive me if I've offended you, Jim.
Jim:No, no. That's okay.
Alfred:I'll show you out, sir.
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③爆弾づくり
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③爆弾づくり
Alfred: Fertilizer? What is your game?
Bruce:I would've thought that's obvious to a man of your perception.
It occurred to me to follow my own advice. Sometimes the ugly way is also the right way.
It occurred to me to follow my own advice. Sometimes the ugly way is also the right way.
Alfred: I mean, a bomb, inside the house? I mean, you're having a laugh, ain't ya? A bomb?
Bruce:I was going to tell you. I wanted to present it as a fait accompli.
Alfred: Don't start talking French to me. You don't know the first thing about bomb-making anyway, do you?
Bruce:I read a book, Alfred... it seems simple enough.
Alfred: A book. I mean, you're gonna blow your bloody head off before you put a dent in that thing.
You know, maybe that door's trying to tell us something.
Maybe you're not ready to find out what's behind it.
Maybe we should wait until you're older.
I mean, who knows what your dear old dad was up to down there, anyway.
You know, maybe that door's trying to tell us something.
Maybe you're not ready to find out what's behind it.
Maybe we should wait until you're older.
I mean, who knows what your dear old dad was up to down there, anyway.
Bruce:Like what?
Alfred: Like things I wouldn't want... to describe to a child, which is exactly what you are.
Bruce:I'm building a bomb to blow down that door. You may assist me... or not, as you wish.
But if not, some tea would be nice.
But if not, some tea would be nice.
Alfred: Right, well, you're gonna need ten more... sacks of that gear, for starters; three more Jerry cans, two lengths of timber; and a heavy tarpaulin. And I'll put the kettle on.
＝＝＝
④”ブルースへ”
＝＝＝
④”ブルースへ”
Alfred:Now... you're absolutely sure about this, Master Bruce?
I strongly advise...
Bruce:Alfred.
I need to know.
Let's do this.
Alfred:Right, sir.
Yes!
Yes, great!
Bruce:"Dear Bruce, these last weeks I begin to feel very mortal, which prompts this note to you. Perhaps I'm being paranoid. I hope so. In any case, if you're reading this, then I'm dead, and you figured out that the entry code is... BRUCE. I'm sorry I had to hide this part of my life from you, because this place only exists because of you. Becoming a father made me want to be a better man, and I started asking hard questions about the family business. So here we are. As I write this, you're 12 and a fine, good-hearted boy. So I'm sure you'll be a fine, good-hearted man. But that's all I know. I don't know what happened to me or your mother, or how life has turned out for you. I don't even know how old you are. So I'll resist giving you much fatherly advice. Only this: You can't have both happiness and the truth. "You have to choose. I beg of you, my son, please choose happiness. Unless... Unless you feel a calling. A true calling."
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