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Unforgiven The

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lt's small!
No, please. No! Please!
Come running, lad!
-Stop! -Brand you like a damn steer!
-Bitch! -No. Please!
Hold the bitch! Go on, hold her!
Hold her, damn it, or l'll cut her tits off!
Go get Skinny! Quick!
Mike, don't!
Think it's funny?
Skinny, get the gun!
Get off of her, cowboy.
-Wouldn't let you settle it? -You know Skinny.
He says he'll shoot them. l says, ''You can't. ''
He says, ''Get Little Bill. '' l says, ''He's sleeping. ''
He says, ''He don't care. '' He'll shoot them boys soon.
She going to die?
She's going to live.
She didn't steal nothing or touch his poke.
When she seen his teensy little pecker. . .
. . .she giggled. She didn't know no better.
You can hang them, Little Bill.
Step over to the office and get the bullwhip.
A whipping's all they get after what they done?
-lt ain't no little thing, Alice. -But what they done--
Shut up!
-Whipping ain't going to settle this. -No?
Here's a contract between me and Delilah Fitzgerald, the cut whore.
l brought her from Boston, paid her expenses and all.
l got a contract that represents an investment of capital.
Damaged property.
Like if l hamstrung one of their ponies.
You think nobody'll fuck her now?
Hell, no!
Won't pay to do it!
She can clean, but nobody's going to pay good money for a cut-up whore!
You boys are off the Bar T. Got your own string of ponies?
Yeah, l got four.
You just as soon not have a trial, no fuss?
No, sir.
All right.
You did the cutting.
Come the fall, you bring in five ponies to Skinny here.
And you! You bring in two.
-You give them over, hear? -Yes, sir.
The bullwhip.
Maybe we don't need this now.
Let me tell you, come the spring, Skinny don't have those ponies. . . .
-l'll come looking for you. -You ain't whipping them?
l fined them instead, Alice.
Skinny gets some ponies and that's it?!
That ain't fair.
That ain't fair!
Haven't you seen enough blood tonight?
Hell, Alice!
lt ain't like they was tramps or loafers or bad men.
They were just. . .
. . .hardworking boys that were foolish.
-lf they was given over to wickedness-- -Like whores?
Tend to Delilah.
Go ahead.
l got $85.
l don't know.
lf Delilah doesn't care, what are we so riled up about?
Just because we let them smelly fools ride us like horses. . .
. . .don't mean we let them brand us like horses.
Maybe we ain't nothing but whores, but, by God, we ain't horses!
l got $1 1 2.
That's everything.
And you, Faith?
Jesus, Faith! What you been doing?
Been giving Skinny something special?
She laughs.
With what Kate got, and Silky, me and Little Sue--
lt ain't enough.
Not yet, maybe.
You don't look like no rootin'-tootin' . . .
. . .son of a bitching cold-blooded assassin.
Say what?
My guess is you call yourself Mr. William Munny.
You have me confused with someone else, mister.
The same who shot Charlie Pepper in Lake County?
What's up, son?
Two more hogs got the fever.
You shot Charlie Pepper.
You killed William Harvey and robbed that train in Missouri.
Hold on, mister.
Son, get those hogs separated there.
Penny, help your brother.
That one's sick too.
We'll talk inside.
So you're Pete Sothow's nephew?
l thought you'd come to kill me for something l'd done in the old days.
l could have.
l guess maybe so.
You don't look like no meaner-than-hell, cold-blooded, damn killer.
Maybe l ain't.
Uncle Pete says you was the meanest goddamn son-of-a-bitch alive.
And if l wanted a partner for a killing. . .
. . .you were the worst one.
Meaning the best.
On account as you're as cold as snow. . .
. . .and don't have no weak nerve nor fear.
Pete said that?
Yeah, he did.
l'm a killer myself, except. . .
. . .l haven't killed as many as you because of my youth.
Schofield Kid, that's what they call me.
You from Schofield?
No, it's on account. . .
. . .of my Schofield model Smith & Wesson pistol.
How about it, Will?
How about what?
How about being my partner?
l'm heading north through Niobrara to Wyoming to kill two no-good cowboys.
For what?
For cutting up a lady. Cut up her face.
Cut her eyes out, cut her ears off.
They even cut her teets.
$1 ,000 reward, Will.
500 apiece.
l can't move those damn pigs!
Watch your cussing, will you? Do the best you can with it.
Then go to the pump and get cleaned up. Come on.
l ain't like that anymore, Kid.
lt was whiskey done it as much as anything else.
l ain't had a drop in over 1 0 years.
My wife, she cured me of that.
Cured me of drinking and wickedness.
You don't look so prosperous.
You could buy her a new dress with your half.
lf we kill them, you can buy--
She's passed on.
Been gone near 3 years now.
Don't tell no one about the reward. l don't need other gunmen collecting.
We don't see no one out here.
lf you was to change your mind, l'll be riding due west. . .
. . .for the trail into Wyoming.
Come on, let's separate those hogs.
Two others.
l think they got the fever.
Took you boys a while.
A few more days and l was going to call on the sheriff.
How about that?
The river was all swelled up. Couldn't cross it.
l bet. Sleepy, get them horses to the livery.
Neil, take that one over around the back.
Now there's a beauty.
You got two of mine. This one here ain't yours.
We'll see about that.
Bastards! Get out of town!
You are very sick sons of bitches!
Don't come back, butcher!
This here pony. . .
. . .l brung for the lady my partner cut.
She's the best.
Better than what l gave him.
She can sell her. . .
. . .or do what she wants.
A pony? She ain't got no face left, you give her a mangy pony?
She ain't mangy!
Get out of here!
We don't need your goddamn charity!
Get out of our town and don't come back!
Get out of our town!
Did Pa use to kill folks?
l could tell your ma liked those flowers l gave her.
He ain't a saddle horse no more. Ain't used to the feel.
Take care of your sister, son.
Kill a few chickens if you must. Keep those hogs with the fever separate.
lf you have any problem, go see Sally Two Trees at Ned Logan's.
Ain't been in the saddle myself in a while.
She's getting even with me for the sins of my youth.
ln my youth before l met your dear departed ma. . .
. . .l used to be weak and given to mistreating animals.
This horse and those hogs over there. . .
. . .are getting even for the cruelty l inflicted.
l used to be able to cuss. . .
. . .and whip a horse, but your ma showed me the error of my ways.
l'll be back in two weeks.
Remember the spirit of your dear departed ma watches over you.
-Where'd you get the money? -We ain't got any!
-You told them cowboys you had! -We was lying!
What'll you do if somebody comes to collect?
You going to hump them a thousand times?
The kind of people who come for it won't tolerate you not having it!
They won't just cut up your face!
You stupid bitches.
You stupid bitches!
Damn it! Jesus!
Hit your finger?
Hello, Skinny.
Damn, you snuck up on me.
What do you think of her?
l heard you done the roof yourself.
Roof? Jesus, l did practically the whole damn thing myself.
The Roberts boy carried wood for me, but that's all.
What is all that wood?
l'm building a porch so l can sit of an evening. . .
. . .and smoke my pipe and drink coffee and watch the sunset.
Came out here just to take a look at her?
-Them whores! -Yeah?
Been humping them cowboys who been in town the last 2 weeks.
Shit, Skinny.
We got railroad barons. We got cattle barons.
You'll be the first billiard baron.
They been humping and telling every bowlegged one of them. . .
. . .they'll pay $1 ,000 to whoever. . .
. . .kills the two boys that cut up Delilah.
Those cowboys are riding that beef down to Kansas and Cheyenne?
All week long?
l didn't hear till last night myself.
The word's probably got all the way to Texas by now.
Nobody'll come clear from Texas.
You sure they got that money?
Women can lie. Ask where the money is, they say they got none.
But those five could have squirreled it away. Maybe.
That much?
Could run off them two cowboys.
l could run off them whores.
They'll just up and run anyhow, them two.
They'll stay out at the Bar T.
Close to their friends.
Shit, could be nobody won't come at all.
Got to go. l like your house.
Well, l'll be. . . .
lt's Will!
Come in the house out of the sun. Sally. . .
. . .see to Will's horse.
What are you doing here?
Just thought l'd drop in on you.
We ain't bad men no more.
We're farmers.
Should be easy killing them, if they don't go on down to Texas.
How long since you fired a gun at a man? Nine, ten years?
Easy, huh?
l don't know it was all that easy even back then.
And we were young and full of beans.
lf you was mad at them. . .
. . .over some wrong, l could see shooting them.
We done stuff for money before.
We thought we did.
What'd these fellows do? Cheat at cards?
Steal some strays? Spit on a rich fellow? What?
They cut up a woman.
Cut up her face, cut her eyes out, cut her fingers off, cut her tits.
Everything but her cunny, l suppose.
l'll be dogged.
Guess they got it coming.
Of course, Will. . .
. . .if Claudia was alive, you wouldn't do this.
Could you look in on my youngsters next week?
They got some hogs they're trying to separate.
How long will you be gone?
Two weeks, l guess.
What's this Kid like?
Three ways?
l see you still have that Spencer rifle.
And l can still knock the eye out of a bird flying.
Jesus, Will!
He must be moving right along.
We'll come across him tomorrow, l reckon.
Kind of got used to my bed.
This ain't going to be like no home.
That ain't the only thing l'll miss.
Hell, l'm sorry.
Don't fret it. lt ain't nothing.
She don't like it much. . .
. . .you riding off with me.
Gave me the evil eye.
You know, Sally's injun. . .
. . .and injuns ain't over-friendly.
l don't blame her.
l won't hold it against her.
She knew me back then.
She knew what a. . .
. . .no-good son of a bitch l was.
She ain't allowing that l changed.
She don't realize l ain't like that no more.
-You know women. -l ain't the same, Ned.
Claudia straightened me up. Cleared me of drinking whiskey and all.
Going on this killing. . .
. . .don't mean l'll go back to the way l was.
Just need the money.
Get a new start for them youngsters.
Remember that drover l shot in the mouth. . .
. . .and his teeth came out the back of his head?
l think about him now and again.
He didn't do anything to deserve to get shot.
At least nothing l remembered when l sobered up.
You was one crazy son of a bitch.
No one liked me and the boys all thought. . .
. . .l'd shoot them out of pure meanness.
You ain't like that no more.
Eagle, he hated my guts.
Bonaparte didn't think too much of me.
Quincy neither, l reckon.
Quincy used to just watch all the time. . .
. . .scared.
Like l said. . .
. . .you ain't like that no more.
That's right.
l'm just a fellow now.
l ain't no different than anyone else. . .
. . .no more.
What son of a bitch shot him? Was it one of them John Bulls?
No, sir. The would-be assassin is a gentleman of French ancestry.
Or so it seems. l don't wish to give offense. . .
. . .but the French are known to be a race of assassins. . .
. . .who can't shoot worth a damn.
Any Frenchmen present are excluded, of course.
Says here a fellow by the name of Guiteau. G-U-l-T--
Sure as hell sounds like a John Bull to me.
Again, l don't wish to give offense when l suggest this country select. . .
. . .a king or even a queen, rather than a President.
One isn't that quick to shoot a king or a queen.
The majesty of royalty, you see.
Maybe you don't wish to give offense, sir. . .
. . .but you are giving it pretty thick.
This country don't need no queens whatsoever.
-When l heard about queens-- -Shut up, Joe.
What's wrong with you, Thirsty? This dude--
Might be that this dude is English Bob.
Works for the railroad shooting Chinamen.
Might be he's waiting for some cowboy to touch his pistol. . .
. . .so he can shoot him.
ls that a fact, mister?
You English Bob?
Let's shoot some pheasants.
Ten shots.
At, let's say, $1 a pheasant.
l'll shoot for the Queen, and you. . .
. . .for whomever.
That's eight for me and one for you.
That comes to seven American dollars.
Pretty damn good shooting. . .
. . .for a John Bull.
No doubt your aim was affected by your grief. . .
. . .over the injury to your President.
lt's the climate that does it. That, and the infernal distances.
Does what?
lnduces people to shoot persons in high places.
lt's uncivilized shooting persons of substance.
Thank you.
Pardon me, gentlemen.
The law obliges you to surrender sidearms to the proper authorities.
Proper authority?
l assure you that neither my companion or l carry firearms on our person.
We rely upon the goodwill of our fellow man. . .
. . .and the forbearance of reptiles.
Unarmed, my ass!
Christ, it's hot!
lf l'm going to get shot, l'd rather it was hot than cold.
Everything hurts me more when it's cold. You know how if you hit your--
Shut up, Fatty!
Clyde's back.
-With Little Bill? -No.
-You clean my Remington? -Cleaned and loaded.
Where's Little Bill?
Building his damn porch.
Building his porch?
lf you got shot, would you want it to be hot or cold?
l ain't going to get shot.
He's coming?
Of course he's coming.
l just loaded that.
l trust nobody loading my guns if l'm shooting.
What'd he say?
Little Bill said he was building his porch.
-You seen that thing? -lt was all loaded.
Clyde, you got three pistols and you only got one arm!
l don't want to get killed for lack of shooting back.
He don't have a straight angle on that whole porch!
Or the whole house, for that matter!
He is the worst damn carpenter.
He didn't say nothing?
Asked what they looked like.
Maybe he's tough but he sure ain't no carpenter.
Maybe he ain't so tough.
Seem like he was scared?
Little Bill? Him scared?
We never seen him up against any like these ones.
Little Bill come out of Kansas and Texas, boys.
He worked them tough towns.
Just wondered.
Anybody could be scared.
He wasn't scared, boys.
He just ain't no carpenter.
There's a dignity in royalty. . .
. . .which precludes the likelihood of assassination.
lf you pointed a pistol. . .
. . .at a monarch, your hands would shake as if palsied.
l wouldn't point no pistol at nobody.
That's a wise policy.
But if you did, l assure you, the sight of royalty. . .
. . .would cause you to dismiss thoughts of bloodshed. You would stand. . .
. . .how should l put it. . .
. . .in awe.
A President. . . . Why not shoot a President?
Keep the change.
This Strawberry Alice person, tell me again.
Down the street to Greely's Beer Garden and Billiards Parlor.
Say you want a game of billiards.
Billiards? Even though l don't really wish to play?
No matter. They burned the table in '78 for firewood.
Quite right.
Mr. Beauchamp, l think a cup of tea--
Hello, Bob.
Boys, this here is English Bob.
Shit and fried eggs!
Been a long time.
Run out of Chinamen?
l thought that you were dead.
You've shaved your chin whiskers off.
l was tasting the soup two hours after l ate it.
Actually, what l heard was you. . .
. . .fell off your horse, drunk, of course.
And that you broke your bloody neck.
l heard that one myself, Bob.
Hell, l even thought l was dead.
Till l found out l was just in Nebraska.
Who's he?
W.W. Beauchamp.
This is Little Bill Daggett.
And friends, of course.
From Newton, Hays? From Abilene?
ln person.
You work for the railroads too?
l write.
Books, Bill. Books.
Actually. . .
. . .he's my biographer.
l wouldn't do that if l were you.
lt's only a book.
A book?
That means you boys can read.
That means you saw the signs outside town saying surrender your firearms.
But like you told young Andy. . .
. . .you're not armed, are you?
Not really, Bill.
Got a Peacemaker, but that wouldn't worry you, would it?
lf you don't see it. Or better, if you don't hear it.
l'm afraid so, Bob.
l don't like firearms around.
Be very careful with it, sonny.
See what kind of books Mr. Beauchamp is packing.
Make sure you don't get wet.
No shit.
All he's got is writing stuff and this book.
''The Duck of Death''?
''The Duke. ''
Good afternoon, gentlemen.
l'll have that .32, Bob.
Now, Little Bill. . .
. . .you will leave me at the mercy of my enemies.
You been talking about the Queen again?
On lndependence Day?
l guess you think l'm kicking you.
But it ain't so!
What l'm doing is talking!
Talking to all them villains in Kansas!
To all those villains in Missouri!
And those villains. . .
. . .down in Cheyenne!
l'm saying there ain't no whore's gold!
Even if there was, they don't want to come for it. . .
. . .anyhow!
What are you looking at?!
Go on!
Mind your own business!
Ever go into town?
On occasion. To sell a hog, pick up supplies.
l mean, get yourself a woman.
No, l never go into town for that.
A man like me?
Only woman l could get is one l'd have to pay for.
That ain't right, buying flesh.
Claudia, rest her soul, wouldn't want me doing that. . .
. . .me being a father.
You just use your hand?
l don't miss it all that much.
Goddamn! Somebody's shooting at us!
Did it hit you?
l bumped my head falling off my horse.
Ain't shooting at us no more.
Shooting way over yonder.
What the hell's he shooting at?
Beats the hell out of me.
Reckon we in somebody's field?
l didn't see nothing planted.
Shooting at us again.
He's shooting at the whole horizon.
Wait! You'll mark us!
Hey, Kid!
That's the Kid shooting at us?
Kid, it's me! Will Munny!
What the hell's he shooting at us for?
That you?
Yeah, it's me!
Don't go shooting at us no more! You hear me?
Who the hell you got with you, Will?
lt's Ned Logan, my old partner!
Don't go shooting at us, you hear?
We'll get our horses and come on over there.
You ain't going to shoot, are you?
No, l ain't!
-Chased that horse a damn mile. -What was you shooting at us for?
-l thought you was following me. -We was.
-You said if l changed my mind-- -Wasn't nothing said about no partner.
This here's Ned Logan.
He's the Schofield Kid, nephew to Pete Sothow.
l seen two fellows following me. My guess is you come to kill me.
We never talked about no other fellow.
There's two cowboys. Better there's three of us, if they got friends.
l can take care of them two myself. lt don't take three.
Ned's an awful good shot with a rifle. Hit a bird in the eye flying.
Better than you, anyhow.
You wasn't even close.
Get your damn hands off my rifle!
Thought l'd check it for you. Maybe something's bent.
lt ain't bent.
You were shooting all over creation!
You'll share your half with him?
l figure three ways.
You figured wrong.
Sorry l wasted your time, Ned.
You going back with him?
He's my partner.
He don't go, l don't go.
What's it come to, three ways?
What are you pissing on about?
-What are you looking at, anyhow? -''Looking at''?
Clouds, Kid.
Looking at them on account of we got a storm riding up our ass.
Hell, l seen them.
You was smart to change your mind.
l'm a real good shot with this rifle.
See that hawk?
l could hit it with one shot.
Hell, l could hit it too. lf l didn't mind wasting a shot.
There ain't no hawk, Kid.
You can't see for shit, can you?
See your canteen?
How far can you see?
-Far enough. -We ain't shooting canteens! How far?
-1 00 yards? -More.
-See that scrub oak tree yonder? -Fuck you.
-He's blind! -l ain't!
Hold it!
How far can you see, Kid? 50 yards?
You bet your ass l can see 50 yards, Will.
l can see well enough to shoot this son of a bitch.
Hold on.
Hear that, Ned?
Kid can see 50 yards. Fine.
50 yards'll do just fine. Now let's move out.
They look like real hard cases, Bob.
Did you kill all seven of them?
Or just wing some of them?
That you here embalmed on the cover?
''The Duck of Death''?
lt's the Duke. ''Duke of Death. ''
You always were the hell in Jesus with a pistol, but seven of them?
Protecting that woman. How do you do that?
lt's desirable in the publishing business to take a certain. . .
. . .liberty when depicting the cover scene.
For reasons involving the marketplace--
From what l read, the writing's not that much different than the picture.
l can assure you, Mr. Daggett. . .
. . .that the events described are from eyewitness accounts.
Like the Duck himself, l guess.
The Duke.
Duck, l says.
'''You have insulted the honor of this beautiful woman, Corcoran. . .'
. . .said the Duck.
'You must apologize.'
But Two-Gun Corcoran would have none of it.
Cursing, he reached for his pistols and would have killed him. . .
. . .but the Duck was faster and hot lead blazed from his smoking six-guns. ''
l consider that an accurate depiction of events.
There is a certain poetry to the language which l couldn't resist.
l was in the Blue Bottle Saloon in Wichita. . .
. . .the night English Bob killed Corky Corcoran.
l didn't see you there.
Nor no woman.
Nor two-gun shooters.
-Nor none of this. -You were there?
Yeah, l was there.
First off. . .
. . .Corky never carried two guns, though he should have.
He was called Two-Gun Corcoran.
A lot of folks did call him Two-Gun, but not because he had two pistols.
lt was because his dick. . .
. . .was longer than the barrel on his Walker Colt.
Only insulting he did was stick it into a French lady. . .
. . .that he was sweet on.
When Corky walked into the Blue Bottle and before he knew what's what. . .
. . .Bob takes a shot at him! And misses, he's so damn drunk.
That bullet whizzing by panicked Corky. He did the wrong thing.
He hurried and shot his damn toe off.
Meantime, Bob here. . .
. . .aims real good and squeezes off another. . .
. . .but he misses, he's still so drunk! Hits a $1 ,000 mirror over the bar.
The Duck of Death is as good as dead. . .
. . .because Corky does it right.
He aims real careful.
-No hurry. -And?
That Walker Colt blew up in his hand, a failing common to that model.
lf Corky'd had two guns instead of a big dick, he would've been there. . .
. . .to defend himself to the end.
Wait a minute.
English Bob killed him when he didn't even have. . . .
Bob wasn't going to wait for Corky to grow a new hand.
No, he just walked over there real slow. . .
. . .because he was drunk. . .
. . .and shot him through the liver.
Don't like rocks on my dadgum back!
-l sure do miss my bed. -You said that last night.
Last night l said l missed my wife. Tonight l just miss my dadgum bed!
You'll miss your dadgum roof next, l suppose.
That business up in Jackson County. . .
. . .that really happen?
The way they say it happened?
What business?
There's two deputies up close pointing their rifles right at you.
Got you dead to rights.
You pulled out your pistol and blew them to hell.
Only took a scratch yourself.
Uncle Pete never seen nothing like it. . .
. . .shooting your way out of that scrape.
l don't recollect.
You don't recollect?
Ned. . .
. . .how many men you killed?
Aren't you going to answer?
What the hell's that to you?
To know the kind of fellow l'm riding with, in case we get into a scrape.
How many men you killed, Kid?
How many?
l done killed five of them.
That's including a Mexican. He come after me with a knife.
Why don't you shut up? Get some rest.
You boys are as crotchety as a couple of old hens.
Actually, then, Mr. Corcoran was faster on the draw than the Duck--
Than English Bob?
Faster? Faster was his mistake.
lf he hadn't rushed, he wouldn't have shot himself in the toe.
He would've killed old Bob.
Being a good shot, being quick with a pistol. . .
. . .don't do no harm, but it don't mean much next to being cool-headed.
A man who'll keep his head, not get rattled under fire. . .
. . .like as not he'll kill you.
-But if the other fellow is quicker-- -Then he'll hurry and he'll miss.
Look here.
That's as fast as l can draw, aim, hit anything more than 1 0 feet away.
Unless it's a barn.
But if he doesn't miss?
He'll kill you.
That's why there's so few dangerous men around like Bob.
Like me.
lt ain't so easy to shoot a man if he's shooting back.
That'll flat rattle some folks.
Let me show you something.
Look here. Take that.
Go on, take it.
There's the key.
Just shoot me. . .
. . .and you and Bob can ride on out of here free as birds.
-ls it loaded? -Wouldn't do any good if it wasn't.
First, you got to cock it.
Go on, cock it.
Now you got to point it.
Go on. Point it.
Now all you got to do is pull the trigger.
Hot, ain't it?
Didn't even put your finger on the trigger.
What if. . . .
What if l gave it to him?
Give it to him.
Give it to him.
l guess he don't want it.
You were right not to take it.
l'd have killed you.
We could use some rain.
You no-good, goddamn pig-fucking whore!
Sorry, old horse.
l brung this for when we kill them fellows.
Figured we could use some now.
Not me. l don't touch it no more.
-Come on, it's raining. -l know it's raining!
Give some to the Kid.
You think that Kid really killed five men?
When he talked about the time them deputies had the drop on you. . . .
l remember there was three men you shot, not two.
l ain't like that no more, Ned!
l ain't no crazy killing fool.
Still think it'll be easy to kill them cowboys?
lf we don't drown first.
Give these keys to the conductor.
He can loose Bob's cuffs as soon as he's outside the county.
Got my pistols?
l guess you know, Bob. . .
. . .that if l see you again l'll just shoot in self-defense.
l didn't steal your biographer!
He's staying on his own account!
He can go stuff himself as well, can't he?!
The plague on the whole stinking lot of you!
Without morals or laws!
And all you whores! You got no laws and no honor!
lt's no wonder you all emigrated to America!
Because they wouldn't have you in England!
You're a lot of savages!
You're all a bunch of bloody savages! A curse on you!
Nobody's going to come. . .
. . .after what Little Bill done to that Englishman.
Delilah, can't you get them tables clean?
Cover your face, somebody might hump you and you wouldn't have to clean.
-What do they call that face cover? -A veil.
Yeah. Get a veil!
Rain's coming.
Thank God.
You sure?
You all right, Will?
Fellow asking for you.
Tonight? You ain't joshing?
This way, mister.
Must be randy as hell to come out in this shit.
''No, no! You're wrong, Little Bill'' ! he said.
''That's not a Curly J. That's a Bobbed J! ''
He had changed it over. And l said to him. . .
. . . ''Jim, you're a liar and a horse thief! ''
When he saw nobody would help him, he started crying. . .
. . .and sobbing and just carrying on.
He said, ''God, please, don't kill me, Bill! ''
So l said, ''Jim, it makes me sick. . . ''
Open the window, will you?
'' . . .to see a man carrying two pistols and a Henry rifle. . .
. . .and crying like a damn baby. ''
-So you killed him? -No.
But l should have.
l can't abide them kind.
You see them in the taverns.
Tramps and drunk teamsters.
Crazed miners.
Sporting their pistols and acting like they was bad men.
But without any sand or character. Not even any bad character.
l do not like assassins.
Or men of low character.
Like your friend, English Bob.
But, now Bob was no coward.
He wouldn't cry and carry on like that--
Sheriff. . . .
l don't have any more receptacles.
Maybe you should hang the carpenter.
l was just saying because of the. . . . You hang. . . .
Doesn't matter.
What the hell?
On a night like this!
-Who the hell is it? -Deputy Charley Hecker, Bill.
Three fellows just come into town, Bill. They're down to Greely's.
There's two of them got guns.
What the hell's keeping that Kid?
You don't suppose he's up--
Jesus, Will!
You look like shit.
You remember Eagle Hendershot?
l saw him.
Will, he's dead.
No, l saw him, Ned.
His head was broke open. You could see inside of it.
Jesus! You got a fever.
-Take a drink, will you? -Worms were coming out.
Look, l'm going up to see what's keeping the Kid.
Must be getting an advance from one of the sporting ladies.
lf l was to. . . .
lf it worked out that l could take a little time for myself. . . .
l mean you wouldn't. . . .
l guess you don't want to come.
Give me the pistol.
l says give me over your pistol.
l ain't drunk.
Ordinance says you got to turn in your firearms to my office. . .
. . .day or night.
l guess you didn't see the sign, because of the weather.
But l ain't. . . .
l ain't armed.
What about your friends upstairs. They got any pistols?
They ain't armed either.
Spilled your whiskey.
What's your name?
William. . .
. . .Hendershot.
Well, Mr. William Hendershot. . .
. . .what if l was to say you was a no-good son of a bitching liar?
And if l was to say you shit in your pants because of a cowardly soul. . .
. . .l bet you'd show me that pistol quick and kill me.
lsn't that so?
Maybe, l guess.
But the fact is. . .
. . .l ain't carrying no firearm.
Get up.
What's this for, snakes and such?
We don't have any snakes in here, Mr. Hendershot.
lt ain't loaded or. . . . Powder's wet?
You see, Mr. Beauchamp?
This is the trash l was speaking of!
They're in all the saloons in all your prosperous communities!
Over in Cheyenne!
But not in the town of Big Whiskey.
Hurry up! You know what to tell Bill.
Look for that lone pine. Miss the pike, you won't find it.
Forget the shirt! Put the boots on!
-What are we going to do about Will? -Come on, Kid!
Let's hope them horses are still there!
Let the man out, W.W.
He's desiring to leave the hospitality of Big Whiskey behind him.
-She's got to turn a dollar a time. -Why'd they lit out the back window?
They seen you beating on their friend.
-They come for the billiards, honest. -Billiards?!
-They were just passing through here? -They was going to Fort Buford.
You kicked the shit out of an innocent man.
lnnocent of what?
You done this before?
Plenty times.
His pistol must've jammed.
Here. Bring that candle in closer. l can't see.
He wouldn't take no beating if it hadn't jammed.
He wouldn't give it over and not shoot.
He don't look so good.
He didn't even pull his pistol?
-He ain't as tough as you, Kid. -l'd have pulled my pistol.
You did! Out of the lady and out the window!
-That was your idea! l-- -We got to go.
What? l'm ready for another advance.
-You'll use it all up. -No more advances on what's not done.
Sweetheart, we're just waiting on this weather to clear!
We're going to need more food! About three days' worth.
Three days?
We can kill them tomorrow.
-l don't kill nobody without him. -We don't need him! We can do it.
Besides. . .
. . .he ain't nothing but a broken-down pig farmer.
One of us'll bring food in the morning, and some whiskey too!
And some medicine if you got any!
Don't it make you sick hearing him?
Don't you ladies worry!
Me and Ned will kill them two sons of bitches for you!
-Claudia's not here. -ls that you, Ned?
l seen him.
l seen the Angel of Death.
l seen a river, Ned.
-He's got snake eyes. -Who's got snake eyes?
lt's the Angel of Death.
l'm scared of dying.
Easy, partner.
l seen Claudia too.
That's good you saw Claudia, ain't it?
Her face was all covered with worms.
Ned, l'm scared.
l'm dying.
No, don't tell nobody.
Don't tell my kids. . .
. . .none of the things l done. You hear?
All right, Will.
He's gonna die, ain't he?
Supposing he does?
We'll bury him.
That ain't what l mean.
You mean will l help you kill them cowboys?
l can't spot them myself.
But you could.
That big bastard, you could spot him a half-mile off, l bet.
And if l spot him?
Then l ride up close and shoot him.
Just like that?
l'm a damn killer. l done it before.
l'm more of a killer than he is.
l thought you was an angel.
You ain't dead.
Some big fellow. . .
. . .kicked the hell out of me.
l must look like you now.
You don't look nothing like me.
No offense meant.
You got to be the one those cowboys cut up.
My partners, Ned and that Kid. . .
. . .they around?
They went out scouting when your fever broke.
Out to the Bar T. . .
. . .looking for them.
How long l been here?
Three days.
Are you hungry or. . . .
Three days?
l ought to be. . . .
l thought l was gone.
l wouldn't normally pay no notice to high country like this. . .
. . .trees, but l'm sure noticing now.
Thought l was dying for sure.
l brought your hat.
You left it down at Greely's.
That sheriff. . . .
-He still looking for me? -Little Bill?
No, he thinks you went south.
Are you really going to kill them cowboys?
l guess.
Still a payment coming, isn't there?
Them other two, your friends. . .
. . .they been taking advances on the payment.
Free ones.
Alice and Silky been giving them free ones.
l see.
Would you like a free one?
l guess not.
l didn't mean with me. l meant. . .
. . .Alice and Silky would be happy to give you a free one if you wanted.
That's all l meant.
l didn't mean. . .
. . .l didn't want a free one because you been cut up and all.
What l said about you looking like me, that ain't true.
You ain't ugly like me.
lt's just that we both got scars.
You're a beautiful woman and if l wanted a free one. . .
. . .l'd want it with you more than the other two.
lt's just that. . .
. . .l can't on account of my wife.
Your wife?
l admire you for that.
For being true to your wife.
l've known a lot of men. . .
. . .who weren't.
l suppose.
ls she back in Kansas?
She's watching over my young ones.
Hang on!
Get the damn iron!
Jesus, fellas!
Jesus, boys, my leg's broke!
l'm pinned, boys!
Better finish him, Ned.
He ain't dead? You didn't get him?
He got the boy's horse.
Finish him before he gets clear.
Get behind them rocks.
Get over there!
What happened? He ain't killed?!
What's going on?
He gets in those rocks, we won't get him.
-Unless we go down there. -What rocks?
Why don't you shoot? What's going on?
l ain't very good with one of these.
Keep going, Davey! The rocks!
Did you get him?
Where is he?
How many more shots do l have?
How many more shots do l have?
Did you get him?
Here, reload this.
-You missed him. -l got him.
He ain't killed.
Maybe, maybe not.
Got him through the gut, l think.
Think he'll die?
We killed him?
We killed him, l guess.
l'm dying, boys!
Then you shouldn't have cut up no woman, you asshole!
Jesus, l'm so thirsty!
Give me some water, please!
Please, Slim!
l'm bleeding, Slim!
Give him a drink of water, goddamn it!
Give him some water, for chrissake! We ain't going to shoot!
You ain't?
Hold on, Davey-boy!
Here l come now!
Don't shoot me, you bastards!
They take him water?
Jesus, Johnny! They shot him!
Hold on now!
You murdering bastards! You killed our Davey-boy!
When will we double back?
After a ways.
Not me.
-l'm heading back down to Kansas. -We got to kill the other one first.
With any luck, we'll find him by nightfall or in the morning.
We'll shoot him and head back with the money.
-Do you want the Spencer? -lt's no time to quit.
-You'll lose your share. -Shut up!
l'll see you, Will. So long, Kid.
l ain't no good with that damn thing.
Me and the Kid'll head over to that ranch and we'll shoot him.
We'll meet up with you, get our money, and go back together.
Suppose he don't go back to the ranch?
He ain't going into town or stay out in the open country.
He'll hole up at that ranch.
l ain't waiting.
l'll look in on your young ones.
Forget what the Kid said about the money and all.
l'll bring yours.
Kid's full of shit.
Doing some repairs up here.
They killed one of them cowboys.
Parsons said he saw three men, right after sunup, headed east.
One was on a dun and another was on a flea-bitten grey.
He didn't know what the third one was on, maybe an Appaloosa.
Amos says to ask if the county will pay for feed for all the horses.
Witherspoon won't sell us no more shells without pay.
Hell, use my dogs!
Then the county's got to be responsible.
Get on out there to the Bar T and make sure that other cowboy. . .
. . .stays put and don't expose himself.
l didn't think they'd really do it.
Think they come up from Kansas to fuck us?
That Kid, he's just a boy and the other one. . .
. . .Will, the nice one, being so true to his wife. . . .
Wife? He ain't got no wife.
-Yes, he does. He-- -He ain't got no wife.
Not above ground, anyways.
Murdering whores!
He had it coming. . .
. . .for what he done.
And the other one too!
Both of them for what they done!
We got one!
We got one, Sheriff! Out by Cow Creek!
-ls he alive? -Hell, yeah!
Bunch of us from Bar T went looking because they killed one of our own.
Come across the bastard on a roan heading south.
He admit it?
No. But l guess he will soon enough. Had a Spencer rifle on him.
They messing him up?
Little bit.
Get out there. Find out what happened to those other two!
See anything out there, Buck?
Hell, yes! Seen about 200 fellows packing rifles.
Got the place surrounded. Say they want Quick Mike's ass.
l said, ''How much?'' They says, ''Five. '' l said, ''Dollars?''
They said, ''Cents. ''
l said, ''Sold. ''
Well, l ain't worried!
Because l got me some protection.
-Tell you where them others is? -Nope.
Only told us his name, Ned Roundtree.
Bring him in.
You'll want to tell me and Mr. Beauchamp here. . .
. . .all about your two villainous friends.
l'll want the names and whereabouts of those son of a bitches.
Sure is ripe.
Going to get a lot riper.
Think he's still in there?
He's in there.
He's holding on to his shit like it was money.
He's in there.
Tell me right off if you see him.
You won't shoot him your own self?
You can shoot him.
Now you and Mr. Quincy and. . . .
What was the young fellow's name?
Elroy Tate.
No, that's not what you said.
Hell, if it ain't!
No, you said. . .
. . . ''Elroy Quincy out of Medicine Hat. . .
. . .and Henry Tate out of Cheyenne. ''
Hell, if l did.
Hell, if l did.
Go get them whores that pumped these boys that night.
Strawberry Alice and Silky?
Go on and get them!
Them whores are going to tell different lies than you.
And when their lies ain't the same as your lies. . . .
l ain't going to hurt no woman.
But l'm going to hurt you.
Not gentle like before. . .
. . .but bad.
Where you going?
-The shithouse. -Let me finish.
To protect me while l take a dump?
-You'll get bushwhacked. -l'll fart on them.
-l'll go. -Yeah, you can wipe my ass, Thirsty.
Hell with him. He ain't polite, he should get shot.
ls that him?
Yeah, that's him.
All right, Kid. Go get him. He's all yours.
Shoot him!
Come on, goddamn it!
Did you get him?
Cover me.
-l can't see them! -Just shoot!
Was it like that in the old days?
Everybody riding out, shooting. . .
. . .smoke all over, folks yelling, bullets whizzing by?
l guess so.
Shit, l thought they'd get us.
l was even scared a little.
For a minute.
You ever scared in them days?
l can't remember.
l was drunk most of the time.
l shot that fucker three times!
He was taking a shit, went for his pistol and l blazed away.
First shot. . .
. . .l got him right in the chest.
That was the first.
First what?
First one l ever killed.
You know how l said l shot five men?
lt weren't true.
That Mexican with the knife?
l just busted his leg with a shovel. l didn't kill him or nothing.
You sure killed the hell out of that fellow today.
Hell, yeah!
Killed the hell out of him, didn't l?
Three shots and he was taking a shit.
Take a drink, Kid.
Jesus Christ!
lt don't seem real.
How he ain't never breathing again, ever.
How he's dead.
And the other one too.
On account of pulling a trigger.
lt's a hell of a thing, killing a man.
You take away all he's got. . .
. . .and all he'll ever have.
l guess they had it coming.
We all have it coming, Kid.
l was watching that you weren't followed.
Silky and Faith rode off to the east and two deputies followed them.
-You want to help me count this? -l trust you.
Don't go trusting me too much.
ln fact, we'll give Ned his share together.
You'll know l ain't holding out on you.
Ned's share?
He went south. We'll catch up.
He's dead.
What do you mean, dead?
He went south yesterday. He ain't dead.
They killed him. l thought you knew.
Nobody killed Ned!
He didn't kill anyone. He went south!
Why would anybody kill Ned?
Who killed him?
Little Bill.
The Bar T boys caught him. . .
. . .and he beat him up.
He was making him answer questions, beating him up. Then Ned just died.
They got a sign on him says he was a killer.
A sign on him?
ln front of Greely's.
A sign on him in front of Greely's!
These questions he was asking. . .
. . .what were they?
About where you and him was.
Then what?
A cowboy come in saying you killed Quick Mike in the shithouse.
So Little Bill killed him for what we done?
Not on purpose.
But he started hurting him worse.
Making him tell stuff.
First, Ned wouldn't talk.
Then Little Bill hurt him so bad, he said who you was.
He said how you was really William Munny out of Missouri.
Little Bill said, ''The same who dynamited
. . .the railroad in '69, killing women and children?''
Ned said you done a lot worse. Said you was. . .
. . .more cold-blooded than Will Bonney. Said if he hurt Ned again. . .
. . .you'd come kill him like you killed the U.S. Marshal in '70.
That didn't scare him, did it?
No, sir.
Give me your Schofield.
Give it.
You want it, keep it.
l won't use it.
l won't kill nobody no more.
l ain't like you, Will.
You better ride on back, Miss.
Go on, keep all of it. lt's yours.
What about spectacles and fancy clothes?
l'd rather be blind and ragged than dead.
You don't have to worry, Kid. l ain't going to kill you.
You're the only friend l got.
Take this money and give my share and Ned's share to my kids.
Tell them if l ain't back in a week, to give half to Sally.
You keep the rest. Get them spectacles.
You'll go kill Little Bill?
Stay clear of folks you see. There'll be a lot out to hang you.
Get going.
l'll say this just one more time, so don't ask me again!
Those on today's posse got one drink coming from the county budget!
And those who rode yesterday get one for that too.
Hold it!
That's two! After that, it comes out of your own pocket! You hear?
-Yes, sir. -We'll pull out early in the morning.
We'll chase them clear to Texas, so don't spend too much money.
We'll divide up into four parties!
We'll hit all the farms, trails. . .
. . .in a big circle.
We're bound to find somebody. . .
. . .who seen these skunks.
Who owns this shithole?
You, fat man. Speak up.
l own this establishment.
l bought it from Greely for $1 ,000.
Better clear out.
Hold it!
Sir, you are a cowardly son of a bitch!
You just shot an unarmed man.
He should've armed himself. . .
. . .if he decorated his saloon with my friend.
You'd be William Munny out of Missouri. . .
. . .killer of women and children.
That's right.
l killed women and children.
Killed just about everything that walks or crawls.
And l'm here to kill you, Little Bill.
For what you did to Ned.
You boys better move away.
All right, gentlemen. He's got one barrel left.
When he fires it, use your pistols. . .
. . .and shoot him down like the mangy scoundrel he is!
Misfire! Kill the son of a bitch!
Any man don't want to get killed, better clear on out the back.
l'm shot! l'm shot!
You ain't shot.
l don't have a gun. l am not armed.
Pick up that rifle.
Pick it up.
Shells too.
You killed Little Bill.
You ain't armed?
l'm not. l don't have a gun.
l've never had a gun. l'm a writer!
A writer?
-Letters and such? -Books.
l don't believe it, you killed five men. Single-handed.
That's a Spencer rifle, right?
Who'd you kill first?
''When confronted by superior numbers. . .
. . .an experienced gunfighter will fire on the best shot first. ''
Little Bill said that. You probably killed him first.
l was lucky in the order.
l'm always lucky when it comes to killing folks.
Who was next? Clyde, right?
You killed Clyde, or it was Deputy Andy--
All l can tell you is who'll be last.
l don't deserve this.
To die like this.
l was building a house.
Deserve's got nothing to do with it.
l'll see you in hell, William Munny.
All right, l'm coming out!
Any man l see out there, l'll kill him!
Anyone takes a shot at me. . .
. . .l'm not only going to kill him, but his wife and all his friends.
. . .and burn his damn house down!
Nobody better shoot!
Charley, go ahead. Shoot him!
l can't.
Hell, no! l ain't no deputy!
You better bury Ned right!
You better not cut up nor otherwise harm no whores!
Or l'll come back and kill every one of you sons of bitches.
Subtitled by Softitler Net, lnc.
Adapted by GELULA & CO., lNC.
US Marshals
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