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(Open in early morning, we see Hearst laying on his floor as there’s a loud knock on the door. Hearst looks startled, and slowly starts to rise)
Hearst: Quit your Goddamn knockin’. I’m comin’. (The knocking is persistent, Hearst makes
his way to the door, looking a little unsure of whether to open it, then he
does. We see Charlie.)
Charlie:
Casket’s come with your name on it.
Hearst:
Why tell me in the middle of the night?
Charlie:
Body’s inside.
Hearst:
Evidently not mine.
Charlie:
I’d as soon make delivery.
Hearst:
You’ll find out where when I decide. Good night. (As he closes the door, Charlie stops it
with his foot)
Charlie:
I
don’t like your tone of voice.
Hearst:
Who are you, Mr. Utter, for me to care what you like or
don’t?
Charlie:
I’m the guy that the next time you see me, you’d better take a different fuckin’
tone with.
Hearst: Given what’s in store, I’m not sure I’ll ever learn
what price I’d have paid for not complyin’.
Charlie:
Oh, I guess someone lookin’ hard might could find you in there somewheres,
peekin’ from under the covers to make a fuckin’ threat.
(Hearst slams the door. We see Charlie exiting the
hotel as Lou and Richardson are preparing breakfast. Charlie pauses and tips his
hat at Lou, then leaves.)
(Cut to the theater, Jack and Claudia are
there.)
Jack: Their quality apart, Claudia, failing reception, our
efforts are lost to the void.
Claudia:
I understand.
Jack:
Don’t say so! Please! I lose my thought. This camp is in mortal danger. The man
Hearst is a murderous engine. My friend Swearengen, aware their combat is
unequal, feels the appeal of the gory finish. Others I’ve just come to know
stand candidates in the elections, whose results they know may be moot. What,
one is disposed to ask, in fuck ought a theater man to do? Of a certainty, our
debut’s postponement is necessary. But unless of one’s own volition, certain is
it too that one would not be canceled. To prevent that, if need be, even off the boards, one would take
steps of one’s fuckin’ own! (He sits and looks at
Claudia.)
Claudia:
Why did you bring me here?
Jack: I
don’t know, child.
(Cut to Wu’s meat locker, we see Johnny and Silas
leaving with each having a quarter of meat over his
shoulder.)
Johnny: What’s the point Al having us leave IOUs when Wu
can’t read fuckin’ English?
Silas: Wu gets back,
he’ll take Al the IOUs for interpretin’, find out Al did the rightful thing
while he was gone.
Johnny:
That’s big point with Al, ain’t it?
Silas: When
he ain’t lyin’, Al’s the most honorable man you’ll ever meet. (Silas spots Hawkeye in an alley, leaning
against a wall) Johnny, balance up against this fuckin’ Chinese sign while I
lay my rack on your shoulder.
Johnny:
Why?
Silas: Just shut the
fuck up. Get this meat inside.
Johnny:
What are you gonna do?
Silas: (He heads toward Hawkeye as Johnny leaves)
Murder. (Reaching Hawkeye he gives him a kick.)
Where the fuck you been? I fuckin’ vouched for you!
Hawkeye: We’re camped up at the Spearfish Meadows, as not to
tip Hearst off till Swearengen can deploy us. I mean, I rode into town to tell
you, but I fell one saloon short.
Silas: Come
on.
Hawkeye:
Lots of Chinks in that meadows up there. Is the railroad comin’ to
camp?
(Cut to Alma’s house as she is brushing Sophia’s
hair. Both of them are dressed in mourning)
Alma:
To have kept our claim, we’d
have had to leave here, you and I, so that thugs we’d have had to engage could
counter Mr. Hearst’s thugs without having the further responsibility of
defending us. So…we are to sell, Sofia, so that we may stay. To be fair to Mr.
Hearst, which is more than he deserves, the price he is paying assigns a great
worth to our holdings, which lacking expertise of our own and others now being
absent who might have provided it, as a practical matter makes refusal absurd.
But how I hate to give that man what he wants. (She caresses Sophia’s hair.) Your hair
has survived my diatribe.
Sofia: If we left, we
wouldn’t be able to see Mr. Ellsworth.
Alma: And
we are not leaving.
(We see Seth, Sol and Jane waiting in the living room
as Alma and Sophia descend the stairs. Sophia is left with Jane, and the others
leave. Outside, we see Joanie in her window watching them
leave.)
(Cut to an alley-way as Hawkeye is taking a shower,
Silas is brushing Hawkeye’s jacket.)
Silas: Your fuckin’ throat’s gonna be at risk, Hawkeye, in
case you don’t fuckin’ realize, which wouldn’t bother me except mine’s gonna be
too.
(Cut to Hearst’s room as he is signing some papers.
Alma, Seth and Sol are there, as is the Pinkerton.)
Hearst: Advancing your interests, Mrs. Ellsworth, mine and
all others, what we do here seems natural and proper. Mr. Newman, I ask you to
ready payment to the officers of Mrs. Ellsworth’s bank.
Seth: We’ll
receive it where we can put it in her safe.
Hearst:
May I hope, Madam, you do not subscribe to this insulting and juvenile
precaution?
Alma: I do not find
the precaution juvenile, so many having been murdered with whom you’ve had
dealings in this camp.
Hearst:
At least you acknowledge the insult.
Alma: I
acknowledge the pretense to civility, in a man so brutally vicious, as vapid and
grotesque.
Hearst:
Have the gold seen to her bank, Newman. Have its purity assayed. Let her or her
seconds choose the man. When that tedium is completed, have the documents
witnessed as though we were all of us Jews. And bring the business back to me.
(He turns to Sol) Excuse my absence,
Mr. Star, as I hope you’ll forgive my thoughtless aspersion on your race. (Sol nods) You stand for local office,
but some contests being countywide, I await wires from the other camps. (He holds the door open and Alma turns to
leave. Hearst sniffs at her as she
passes.) You’ve changed your scent.
Seth: Can’t
shut up! Every bully I ever met
can’t shut his fuckin’ mouth…except when he’s afraid.
Hearst:
You mistake for fear, Mr. Bullock, what is in fact preoccupation. I’m having a
conversation you cannot hear. (The group files out, perplexed by
Hearst)
(Cut to Alma’s living room as Jane and Sophia are
playing a game of slap-hands. Sophia is winning. There’s a knock at the
door)
Jane:
Oh see, that’s just Miss
Stubbs now answering my message I sent her by secret thinking, requesting
unguent for my bruises. (She opens the door) Hello hello, Miss
Stubbs.
Joanie:
Hello hello, yourself. Hello, Sofia.
Sofia: Hello, Miss
Stubbs.
Joanie:
I’m just going to the center. I
wondered if you needed anything.
Jane: Oh, I’ve let
her in on it. (Joanie looks confused)
You needn’t tell a stretcher how it is you come to
appear.
Joanie:
(Playing along) You
told?
Jane: Asked for
unguent by secret thinking for the beating she was giving my
hands.
Joanie:
That’s my purpose in the center. Stopped to ask if you needed aught
else.
Jane: If I did, I
believe you’d already know.
Joanie:
(To Sofia) Hit her a good one for
me.
Sofia:
I will.
(Cut to Hearst’s room, he’s alone, laying on the
floor again as there’s a knock at the door)
Hearst:
Come in! (E.B. opens the door and looks in. He can’t
see Hearst behind the bed)
EB: I was
looking for Mr. Hearst.
Hearst: Who do you think you’re talkin’ to?
EB:
(entering the room) Candidly,
of late, I’m at pains to be certain which voices are within me and which
without.
Hearst:
This one is without, telling you to come in.
EB: Of
course. What is it, Mr. Hearst? I’ve sensed for some while we owed each other a
talk. Let the outcome be grim or
worse, I’ll at least be relieved that it’s past. (EB still can’t see Hearst, who holds up a
letter from behind the bed. EM creeps over, shielding his face and carefully
grabs the letter, then retreating back across the room) May I look at the
addressee?
Hearst:
How will you know to whom it is to be delivered if you do not? (EB looks at the
letter)
EB: Oh
dear. Well, I’ll be on my way the
(Cut to No10, we see Steve positioned at a table
where Rutherford is playing checkers, pretending to be playing with Steve.
There’s a checker sitting in Steve’s mouth. Tom and Harry are there, Harry is
sweeping)
Harry: Must have shook 100 hands in
Sturgis.
Tom: When
you declared for Sheriff, Harry, I feared you’d be a poor campaigner and
derelict in your duties here.
You’ve held your end up and more.
Harry: Ache in
my hand and wrist, the deep-set dirt defies me.
Tom:
Well, if sweeping, you don’t raise your usual simoon, it’s a paltry price to
pay.
Rutherford: (Moves a checker, then says to Steve) Fuck if
you saw that comin’.
Tom: I
have something to show you, Harry.
(He walks across the bar and
uncovers a large crate. Harry
stares at the crate, which is labeled as a fire wagon.) The Finster Model 60
steam pumper fire wagon.
Harry: 120-gallon boiler? (Rutherford
stands)
Tom:
Three brass nozzles.
Harry: Nickel-finished
firebox?
Tom: I
believe that to be the case. (We see Fields coming in.)
Harry: Did the hats come? (Fields takes the checker from Steve’s
mouth)
Rutherford: Is that a checker in Steve’s
mouth?
Fields:
You don’t want to look after him, just say so.
Rutherford: Who says I don’t? (Fields wheels Steve to the door) Only
he kibitzes my moves. Where are you
goin’?
Fields:
Takin’ him to vote for Bullock.
Rutherford: This may require my supervision. (They
leave)
Tom: I’ll
vote just before lunch.
Harry: And I’ll go once you’ve relieved me. (He carresses the crate.)
(Cut to Al’s office, where EB is delivering Hearst’s
letter))
Al: You
don’t expect me to believe you didn’t steam this open and reseal it for me to
open again.
EB: I
didn’t wanna know. (Al reads the letter, then slams it down,
angry.)
Al: This
motherfucker!
EB: For
my complicity in his shooting, he orders my death.
Al:
(Putting EB on) You did read it. (E.B. gasps and staggers back, then
straightens and presents his neck as though for slitting)
EB: Be
quick then, please.
Al: Your
complicity’s mostly in your noggin’, E.B.
It’s the whore he wants dead.
EB: (pausing.) By what vile method then? Is
Trixie to be drawn and quartered and set aflame?
Al: Say
he’ll have my answer in an hour.
EB:
Al.
Al:
E.B.
EB: I
can’t, Al. I can’t engage him in further conversation. When I hear his
voice, I see the inside of his skull! (Al
takes out a pencil and paper) Phantoms grin out at me, oozing gruesome
goo.
Al: Slide
this under his door then.
EB: (looking at the note) Would you rather I
tell him?
Al: Only
decide quickly. (E.B. drops the note, and
walks to the door.)
EB:
Fear
is every man’s portion.
(Cut to the Bella Union as Joanie is walking in. Con
sees her and cuts her off. She looks around at Leon who is sleeping, and the
others, and shakes her head)
Con: Did
he send for you, Joanie?
Joanie:
What’s happenin’ here, Con?
Con:
Well, not knowin’ Mr. Tolliver’s, uh, present state of feelin’ towards you is
why I ask.
Joanie:
Then why don’t you stay the fuck out of it, Con? (We hear Cy coming out of his
office.)
Cy:
I wasn’t fuckin’ dreamin’. It is
Joanie Stubbs.
Con:
(Whispering to Joanie) I
got “Stay the fuck out” written on a stone tablet in my bedroom.
Joanie:
How you feelin’,
Cy?
Cy: I get
around all right.
Joanie:
Your color’s better.
Cy: Is
that a fucking fact? My color’s
better, Stupid. (Janine looks over.)
Stupid, this is Joanie Stubbs.
Janine:
Hi.
Joanie:
What’s your name, Honey? (Janine looks at
Cy.)
Cy:
Go ahead and tell her your
name.
Janine:
Janine.
Joanie:
Hi, Janine.
Janine:
Hi.
Cy: Go
ahead now, Jan-nee-nee-neen, and finish your Latin lessons and your Greek. The
thirst this girl has for knowledge, she’s barely time to suck a
prick.
Joanie:
She’s pretty.
Cy: What
the fuck do you want?
Joanie:
I’ve been thinking about you is all.
Cy: (scoffs) Help me understand cunt,
Lord.
Joanie:
Saying the other night you oughtn’t come inside that school, Cy, don’t feel I
don’t wish you well.
Cy: Buy
some lines in the paper, Joanie. Let the public know.
Joanie: I
know you meant that for me in your way.
Cy:
What?
Joanie:
Meant me well.
Cy: If
it’s Christmas, where’s the fucking snow, or the fucking harp music or the
like?
Joanie:
If it wasn’t for you, I’d have died a long long time ago. (Cy looks at her)
Some happiness has come into my life now, and I’m grateful I
didn’t.
Cy: My
lines are women, liquor and rigged games of chance. Are you
playing?
Joanie:
(ignoring Cy’s rudeness) What do you think of all this trouble Hearst
brought?
Cy: Does
a girl have to drive cattle for you to eat her pussy? (Joanie looks at Cy, turns and heads for the
door. She stops and jostles Leon. He wakes.)
Joanie:
You voting, Leon?
Leon: Against the
opium ordinance. (Joanie leaves. Janine
looks at Cy)
Cy:
What the fuck are you looking
at?
(Cut to Al’s office, as he pours a shot. Johnny is
there..)
Al: That
whore’s gotta die. Jen? Hearst won’t stand for an empty coffin. Likely, he paid
most attention to Trixie’s tits and snatch, so Jen’ll adequately pass. (They drink.)
Johnny:
Jesus Christ.
Al: I
know. You like her.
Johnny:
She’s a nice girl.
Al: All
right.
Johnny:
She’s learning to read.
Al: Spend
some time with her, and let me know when you’re done.
Johnny:
You’ll scare
her.
Al: I’ve
done it once or twice, Johnny. She won’t know that’s what I’m there
for.
Johnny:
She won’t need to. You scare her no matter what. (Johnny pauses, then slams the desk.)
Oh, just give me a fucking knife then. Just give me the fucking knife. (Al hands him his knife, Johnny starts to
leave then turns.) Fucking Trixie!
(Cut to Sol’s house, we see Trixie lacing up her
boots as Sol enters)
Sol: What
are you doing?
Trixie:
Going for a stroll to the polls. One vote for Star buys a hand job. Repeaters
get a suck.
Sol:
Trixie.
Trixie:
I’m through staying inside. If something’s to happen let it happen to
me.
Sol: You
selfish cunt!
Trixie:
No one asked you to put me up.
Sol:
That’s right. That’s right. My fucking choice! I’m not fucking
afraid.
Trixie: I
guess maybe I’m not either.
Sol: Not
to die.
Trixie:
Well, ain’t you clever? Ain’t you
fucking clever, you deep thinkin’ fuckin’ Jew! (Sol grabs her by the arm and pushes her
toward the door.)
Sol:
Why bother with your boots then,
Trixie, if you’re going to be on your knees?
Trixie:
Let go of me!
Sol:
No!
Trixie:
Let me walk out by myself.!
Sol: The
fuck if I will! At least I can say I
threw you out if you’d rather die than live with me! (Sol pushes her out the
door and slams it shut. He turns and sits down, looking like he’s unsure of his
choice. Sol starts to weep as we hear a knock on the door, he looks hopeful and
gets up to open it. Trixie stands there for a minute, then moves to Sol and
grabs him, sobbing, in a hug.)
(Cut to a whore’s room at the Gem, we see Jen and
another girl. Jen is giving her some sort of a douche
kit.)
Jen: Use
just half till you see how you stand it. (Johnny enters.)
Whore: It
itches bad.
Jen: I’m
saying use just half till you see. (She
hands the kit to the girl and she leaves quickly)
Johnny: I
wanna talk with you. (Jen lifts up her
skirt and bends over the bed.) No, I mean it, Jen. I wanna talk. (As he approaches her, he slips the knife
out of his belt away from her view.) Pure conversation. (Puts his arm around her shoulder)
Nothing for you to be alarmed about. (He leads he to the corner of the room and
they stand there facing the wall.
Outside in the hall, we see Al waiting as Davey
approaches.)
Davey:
Four and five deep to vote,
Boss.
Al: Eyes
up or predominantly down when Hearst’s goons glare upon
‘em?
Davey:
Uh, I want to go check again.
Al: Good.
Good. Never opine short of certainty. (Back in the room)
Johnny:
What is this,
Jen?
Jen: A
wall?
Johnny:
On the surface, yes, it is. But
inside, many creatures go about their lives, such as ants. They got a whole operation going. They
got soldier ants and worker ants and whore ants to fuck the soldiers and the
workers, right inside that wall … baby ants. Everyone’s got a task to hew to,
Jen. You understand me? (She nods)
Jesus Christ’s fucking sake. (He spins the knife around in his hand and
puts it away.) We’ll talk about this later. (He steps out into the hall, meeting
Al.) I
can’t.
Al: Give
it to me then.
Johnny:
No.
Al: Give
me the fucking knife.
Johnny:
She ain’t stole or been quarrelsome or set the bedding
afire.
Al: Get
out of my fucking way, Johnny.
Johnny:
It
ain’t fair to fucking kill her.
Al: Since
when did that begin entering in?
Johnny: I
won’t let you pass, Boss.
Al:
Johnny.
Johnny: I
won’t. I won’t let you.
Al:
You’re willing to die in her stead?
Johnny:
If I got to…preferring you’d handle things different. (Al walks away from Johnny and over to Dan
at the bar, leaving Johnny in the hall.)
Al: Make
sure the whore don’t leave. Let Johnny cool down, then knock him the fuck
out.
Dan:
What’s gonna happen?
Al:
What’s gonna happen is I’m gonna go look and see if, perchance, I mightn’t be
the owner of another fucking knife.
(Ket to Lou’s room at the hotel, she is brushing a
pair of boots as Richardson enters. He is dressed in his suit, and is holding
out his untied tie.)
Lou: Richardson!
Richardson: I can’t remember.
Lou:
Come here. Give it to me. (She takes the tie and puts it around her
own neck to tie it. She looks at his stocking-feet) I don’t suppose you
gonna go vote stocking-footed.
Richardson: I
forgot.
Lou:
Ain’t those them? (pointing to the boots,
he starts putting them on.) You gonna vote for Mr. Bullock
now.
Richardson: Even though
he beat Mr. Farnum, ‘cause he took you-know-who by his
ear.
Lou: Like
some others ain’t brave enough to do.
Richardson: Anyways,
Harry Manning gives me splinters.
Lou:
How’s he do that, child?
Richardson: Raising the
windows after he’s ate.
Lou:
Richardson…Richardson, you’re right about that. South had that man’s gas to load in
their cannons, shoot, wouldn’t be no free niggers nowhere.
Richardson: Noah hisself
would have throwed him out the boat. (They laugh. She puts his tie back on him and
tightens it.)
Lou: Now that’s for us talking now. Don’t you be saying what I say to you
outside these rooms. First you
back, you’re gonna clean your mess up, Richardson. You hear
me?
Richardson: Yes,
Ma’am.
Lou:
Okay. Go on on. You look
fine.
Richardson: Thank
you.
(Cut to the voting in the street. We see a table set
up for dispensing free drinks)
Democrat: Remember who gave it to you, boys. Vote democratic.
(We hear a Pinkerton imitating a monkey
as Fields stands in line with Rutherford.)
Pinkerton: Look what broke out their cage, a
monkey.
Rutherford: Right to vote shall not be abridged or denied… on account of race or color or
condition of previous servitude.
15th amendment to the U.S. Constitution, ratified 1870, law of
the land thereafter, including
territories.
Pinkerton: They got something about niggers not waiting their
turn?
Rutherford: Not that I’m aware of.
Pinkerton: Oh, you ain’t aware of it. Then I guess you’ll want
this white man voting first.
Fields:
What’s a few minutes more? (We see Charlie supervising the voting
line)
Charlie:
The nigger was before him. (We see Joanie watching from a
distance.)
Richardson: Yes.
Pinkerton: No he wasn’t.
Charlie:
I
guess you’re blind and stupid.
Fields: I
believe I’ll vote later.
Charlie:
Fuck if you will. Get your nigger ass back in line.
Pinkerton: You’d better be walking him home afterwards. (He pulls on his collar and feigns
strangling.)
Charlie:
You’d better see to that yourself,
‘cause if he don’t make it, you’ll
be eating your spuds running till I hunt you the fuck down.
Rutherford: And that ends that.
Charlie:
What your shit-stirring started.
(to Fields) Will you drop your fucking
ballot?
Fields:
(to Steve in his cart) Ain’t it wonderful, Steve?
Charlie:
(Joanie approaches) Sorry for all the commotion, Miss
Stubbs.
Joanie:
That’s all right, Mr. Utter.
Charlie:
Uh, I got something at the jail for you and the other one. ‘Cept right now I’m pretty
agitated.
Joanie:
Well, I got time. Maybe you’ll calm down as we walk.
Charlie:
All right.
(We see Fields and
Richardson dropping their ballots in the box, Richardson is
grinning)
(Cut to the Gem saloon, Al is with
Sol)
Al: How
do you make your way, Star, not sometimes buying silence by punching her in the
fucking mouth?
Sol: She
thinks Hearst is going to want her dead. She thinks you’ll kill one of these
others.
Al: Oh,
Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.
Sol: Is
it true?
Al: I
already fucking did.
Sol: Is
that true?
Al: Don’t
waste your Jew’s time wondering what’s true and what ain’t. You go over there,
tell fucking Hearst the whore Trixie has been killed, and then tell Joan of Arc
that instead of flames lapping at her tippy-toes, you’d have her live to fuck in
the morning. (Sol nods) And after to
you tell fucking Hearst, before you tell that loudmouth cunt, tell your fucking
partner I need him here.
Sol:
Don’t talk about her that way.
Al: Oh, I
fucking recant. Off you fucking go. And don’t neglect fucking Bullock. Water
comes to a boil. (We see Jen leading a
John up the stairs) Unlucky fucking mutt. (Al walks to the bar and stands between
Silas and Hawkeye, keeping his back to Hawkeye. Dan is behind the bar.)
Silas:
You remember Hawkeye.
Al: How
many has he got?
Silas:
Ride from Cheyenne winnowed the wheat from the chaff.
Al: How
many, Adams, of the promised 23?
Hawkeye:
(to Al’s back) Almost 18, Mr. Swearengen, camped in Spearfish Meadows,
ready to join in the issue.
Al: What
does he mean by “Almost 18?”
Silas: 17
normal size and a short one that’s hell with a knife. (Al rolls his eyes to
Dan.)
Dan:
(To Al, nodding toward Hawkeye) Turn me loose.
Silas: Ain’t that Mr. Wu? (we see Wu coming in the
back)
Al: In
there, Wu. (To Silas) Go with him to
get the men, station in Cochran’s Alley. Send word you’re positioned with the
midget. (He heads to the back
room)
Hawkeye:
That went off well.
(Cut to Joanie’s room as she enters to find Jane
laying down with a bottle, drunk)
Jane: Hello, hello.
Joanie:
What happened, Jane?
Jane:
Nothing out of the ordinary. The
bank lady took her child to Ellsworth’s grave and I got
drunk.
Joanie:
How long you been here?
Jane:
Many years. Or is it a day or two? What’s important is you get to keep asking me
questions so I don’t get to ask you one.
Joanie:
Go ahead.
Jane: Why in fuck,
with me asking you in to play hot hands with me and Sofia, you stood there
instead looking like you just did murder?
Joanie:
Well, you didn’t. I’d come in if you’d asked.
Jane: Bullshit! How can you say we’ve been sending
secret thought messages and pretend you didn’t know?
Joanie:
Well, anyways.
Jane: Anyways,
what?
Joanie:
Anyways, I’ve just finished my business at the center.
Jane: Who gives a fuck?
Joanie: I
saw you, and then I went to the Bella Union, and I talked to Cy real quick, and
then I went and saw the voting…
Jane: Is that
so? Oh, so did you go see Cy real
quick? Did you pay a quick call on Cy?
Did they stick some quick pricks in you?
Joanie:
It wasn’t like that, Jane.
Jane: Who gives a
fuck? Not me.
Joanie: I
saw at the voting what I guess you knowed about Mr. Utter all these years, and
Mr. Hickok musta knowed. What he’s
like in a tight, one he didn’t even need to be in.
Jane: Yeah, he’s
okay in those.
Joanie: I
want to be that to you. Even when we don’t get along.
Jane: You got that part down perfect, me and
him.
Joanie:
What, the “don’t get along”?
Jane: Of course we
had years of practice. (Joanie opens the
door and steps outside)
Joanie:
He sent us this. (She puts Bill’s robe
over Jane)
Jane: That’s Bill
Hickok’s robe you got there, that’s whose that is. (Jane snuggles up in the robe, Joanie lays
down next to her and hugs her.) Warm.
(Cut to Hearst’s room as Sol is
there.)
Hearst: I
in no way, wish to impugn his veracity, but I would have Mr. Swearengen
understand that for her try on my life, I ought to see that the whore has paid
with her own.
Sol: All
right.
Hearst:
Wherever the viewing will impose least.
Sol:
You’ll go there?
Hearst:
Of course. I feel very safe in this camp.
(Cut to Al’s office, he is addressing the box in the
cabinet)
Al: This
fucking place is gonna be a fucking misery. Every fucking one of them, every
fucking time I walk by, “Ooh, how could you? How could you?” With their big
fucking cow eyes. The entire fucking gaggle of ‘em is gonna have to bleed and
quit before we can even hope for peace. What’s the fucking alternative? I ain’t
fuckin’ killing her, that sat nights with me sick and taking slaps to her mug
that were some less than fucking fair. I should have fucking learned to use a
gun, but I’m too fucking entrenched in my ways. And you ain’t exactly the one to
be leveling criticisms on the score of being slow to adapt. You fucking people
are the original slow fucking learners!
(He slams the cupboard door shut
and walks out of his office. We see Jen with her John on the balcony) How
was she, pal?
John: Mmm. Good,
wonderful. I don’t mind a small pair of tits.
Al: You
sure you’re done? You look the sort could turn right around and drop the hammer
again.
John: I will if it’s
free.
Al: See
you later, Pal. (He leaves, Al looks over
at Jen for a moment.) C’mere. (She hesitates, looking uncertain, then
approaches Al. He opens his office door and motions her in, then follows her and
closes the door.)
(Cut to Bullock’s house, Seth is talking to Charlie
in the kitchen as Martha prepares tea.)
Seth: Did
it seem like Hearst ordered the interference?
Charlie:
Huh-uh. Being stupid on his own, that strong-arm was. (Chuckles) Or if you want, I could say
“Yes.”
Martha:
Tea, Mr. Utter?
Charlie:
Tea got kick to it too, a little, don’t it?
Martha:
Would you rather coffee?
Charlie:
Oh, no no no. I ought to get familiar with tea. (Charlie takes Seth aside) Uh, Much free
liquor as them Pinkertons poured against you, Sheriff, it seemed like strong
support for you and Star.
Seth: My
election’s countywide, Charlie.
Charlie:
That’s what’s fucking worrisome, fucking countywide aspect. (There’s a knock on the door and Sol barges
in suddenly)
Martha:
Mr. Star!
Sol: I’m
sorry for barging in, uh.
Seth: What
is it, Sol?
Sol:
(long pause) Everything.
(Cut to Hearst’s room, he is opening the door to
Jack.)
Hearst: Mr. Langrishe.
Jack: Making
bold to ask after your health, Sir.
Hearst: I
was shot in the shoulder.
Jack: So one
understood.
Hearst:
But the wound seems healing clean.
Jack: And your
back, Sir?
Hearst:
Oh, deprived of your Turkish artillery treatments, my back is as it was.
Jack: Please
blame my dereliction on the demands of readying our
theater.
Hearst:
(goes to his leaning-board) I had
been blaming your choosing old friends over new acquaintances. Please, sit down.
Jack:
One prays always, sir, as
one’s store is depleted by time, new acquaintances may become one’s friends. As
your friend, I ask if you believe that fate has not chosen for your encounter
with your deepest destiny the place where you now find yourself, while decreeing
for some, my friend Swearengen included, quite otherwise?
Hearst:
Your proposition is that this place at this hour will show all of Mr.
Swearengen?
Jack:
Yes.
Hearst:
And Mr. Bullock, who took me by the ear?
Jack: I only
hazard my impression that, less possessing his character than possessed by it,
he is also someone for whom the outcome must be soon. Whilst imagining for
you, Mr. Hearst, the earth
entertaining some larger purpose to
be told you elsewhere and at another time.
Hearst:
Why do you say so? In those words,
I mean, “The earth speaks”?
Jack: A
vestige of childhood tales in which not only humans spoke, but other creatures
too. Mountains and streams.
Hearst: I
imagine she still speaks to me still, the earth, what’s inside her, how to get
it out.
Jack:
Comprehending such a language can cost a man his own kind’s
sympathies.
Hearst:
Arguing perhaps for a more solitary life.
Jack: Sad
anointing.
Hearst:
The mountain I must go up on, Mr. Langrishe, I have ascended before. It’s in
Montana, and I came down it with silver, suspecting there was copper too, and
now I’m told that’s true.
Jack: Do I
understand you to say you’re leaving us?
Hearst:
For the Anaconda, yes. But first, I’ll have the election returns, and then one
last visit with your friend to see the cunt who shot me dead. (opens the door) Good day,
Sir.
(Cut to the Gem as Al descends the
stairs.)
Al: Box
her in my office.
Dan: Send
Jewel up to clean up the mess?
Al: If
I’m having her boxed in my fucking office, don’t I want the blood left for the
cocksucker to see? (Dan nods) And
when that’s over, if we’re still alive, I’ll clean my own fucking mess up. (Dan heads upstairs) Look in on Johnny,
see if he’s grown the fuck up. (Merrick
and Blazanov approach Al.)
Merrick:
Sturgis is a landslide for Harry
Manning.
Blazanov: 970 votes for Harry Manning, 68 votes for Mr.
Bullock.
Merrick: Heavy turnout among the bivouacked military. (Trixie enters from the back and goes up the
stairs, Sol enters and goes to Al. Seth also enters.)
Sol:
“Within the hour,” Hearst said 20 minutes or so ago.
Al:
Didn’t you tell him? (He looks at Merrick and points at Seth with
a bottle.)
Merrick:
I have not as yet, no.
Al:
(to Seth) How do you think you might enjoy private
life?
Seth:
Sturgis?
Blazanov: 970 votes for Harry Manning, 68 votes for Mr.
Bullock.
(We hear a bang, and see Dan lugging a pine coffin to
Al’s room. Inside Al’s room we see Trixie sitting on the floor weeping over
Jen’s body. Jen’s throat has been cut. Dan enters with the coffin and sets it
down.)
Dan: Put
her in?
Trixie:
Don’t I want to put my dress on her first, you fucking
moron?
Dan: I’m
sent to check on Johnny. I’ll come back and put her in. (Trixie cries and Dan leaves. In the bar, they see him come out) She’s, uh, putting Jen in her
dress.
Al:
Johnny.
Dan: (nods) Then I’ll do the
boxing.
Al: (to the group)
We show united in the prelude when
he’s making his entrance and the fucking like. Comes to viewing the body, I
stand for virtue alone. The deception failing, I’ll make a pass at him with my
blade. In the aftermath, play the lie as mine, knowing I speak of you in heaven.
(Looking at Seth) Others owe thought to the future, their thinking
straightforward don’t come that naturally to.
(Cut to a whore’s room, we see Johnny bound and
gagged as Dan enters. Johnny struggles)
Johnny: Fuck you, Dan! Fuck you!
Dan: You
got my condolences. As sorrowful as the passing of Jen is, you know that Al, he
didn’t have no choice.
Johnny:
Bullshit.
Dan:
Feeling how he feels about Trixie, is what I’m saying. Come on, Johnny, you side
with your feelings. Right or wrong, you side with your feelings. Now can you
come to yourself in time to be of some fucking use?(Dan starts to untie
Johnny)
(Cut to Cy’s room at the Bella Union, he is talking
to Newman the Pinkerton. Cy holds one of Hearst’s letters in his
hand)
Cy: You
don’t chew your cabbage twice, do you, Mr. Newman? I guess I don’t have to set big blocks
of time aside for this future collaboration between us that Mr. Hearst outlines
here.
Newman:
You
don’t want to crack too fucking wise.
Cy: I
don’t want to be talking to you at all, Mr. Newman, but that seems to be the way
the hand lays.
Newman: I
tell him you agree?
Cy: Yeah,
you tell him I agree, and I appreciate the chance at a new
friendship.
(Cut to the Gem as Dan exits a room and heads to Al’s
office)
Al: A few
nails in the box, Dan, would do me for pretext.
(In Al’s office, Trixie is still crying over Jen as
Dan enters. He picks up Jen’s body and places it into the coffin. We see that
Jen is wearing Trixie’s prized cameo brooch. As Dan nails the lid on the coffin,
Trixie stares ad the large pool of blood on the
floor.)
(Cut to the balcony of the Bella Union. Cy is with
Leon and Janine. He is staring over at Hearst’s
place.)
Cy: All
but sucked your prick, you’d have me be your fucking quartermaster. (We hear a commotion in the alley, Cy looks
over to see a crowd of Chinese who are handing out guns) The rising tide of fucking chinks,
Janine? (He looks over at
Hawkeye’s gang in the street) The ragtag collection by the hardware
store, I’d put in Swearengen’s
camp. (Leon laughs) Good dope today,
am I right, Leon? (We see Pinkertons come
out on the to hotel roof, as a group of them also exit the front of the hotel
with Hearst.)
Leon: Last two or three days have been
good.
Cy:
You are a fucking beauty, Leon.
Lifts me up to be with you. (Cy leans
into Leon and we see him lunge against Leon.)
Leon: Jesus! (He
falls to the floor, we see that he has a wound in his groin, bleeding
profusely.) What the fuck did you do to me, Sir?
Cy:
I believe I fucking stabbed
you.
(We see Hearst and his gang enter the Gem, Al walks
over to meet them. Seth and the others are there)
Hearst: Gentlemen. Any word yet on how the other camps have
voted? (Al clears his throat and heads
upstairs. Seth, Hearst and the
Pinkertons follow, Seth positioned between Hearst and Al.) Is it as Sheriff, Mr. Bullock, you
divide us?
Al: Need
anyone divide us inside?
Hearst:
Are you sure you still hold office?
Seth: If
I’m beat, it owes to Yankton’s whore buying cavalry repeaters in
Sturgis.
Hearst:
Why, sir, then you must protest. Camp in Yankton; protest and demand justice;
grab the legislators by their ears.
Al: Ain’t
you hear to confirm a croaker?
Hearst:
In here? (Al opens the door to his
office.) Mr. Newman and so many
of his cohorts as he deems appropriate will precede us.
Al: You
don’t mind if I go in alone?
Hearst:
Not at all, Sir. (They go in and
shut the door, Seth and Charlie stand guard outside with a
Pinkerton)
(Cut back to the Bella Union balcony, Janine is
trying to stop the bleeding from Leon’s groin. Leon is fading
fast)
Cy: Hearst moves his operating headquarters to Lead, I
get to see to all his
other-than-mining interests here in the camp.
Leon:
Congratulations, Sir.
Cy: Thank
you, Leon. (He throws the note from
Hearst at Leon) If those are your last words here on earth, you tell the
Lord you went out stupid.
Janine:
He’s dead.
Cy: Oh,
not yet, honey. See how the blood still pumps a little out his leg? When they’re dead, that turns to
seep.
(Cut to Al’s office as he and Hearst stand over the
coffin. The thugs all stand with guns aimed at Al.)
Hearst: Do you believe I will leave without
seeing?
Al: Well,
I was hesitant to presume. (He puts down his bottle and reaches for his
knife in his belt. We hear and see several guns cocked and pointed at Al. Al
kneels down to pry open the coffin lid with his knife. As he slides the lid
aside, we see Jen inside. Hearst pushes aside one of the thugs and steps over to
get a better look at Jen. Kneeling down, Hearst feels Jen’s neck for a pulse,
then stands and looks at Al. He wipes his hands with his handkerchief then
throws it into the coffin. Stepping back, he sees the pool of blood he has
stepped in, and wipes the blood off his feet in the floor. Hearst and the thugs
start to file out, we see Al is gripping his knife firmly. Hearst and the thugs
pass Charlie on their way down the stairs, and Charlie shouts out after
Hearst.)
Charlie:
What do you want done with that
body?
Hearst:
It’s Mr. Swearengen’s affair now.
Charlie:
The body at my fucking freight office, what you want down with that
one?
Hearst:
You’ll be wired instructions.
Seth: (To
Al) Has she family ought be notified?
Al: I
don’t notify fucking family.
Seth: I guess
especially not hers. (We see Sol walk into a room where Trixie is
waiting for him. He takes off his hat and looks at her)
Al: She
has a sister, whores in Gunnison. Jen’s sister, you could write to, care of the
Yellowbird. (Seth walks downstairs, Al says to Dan)
I’d take that fucking scrub brush.
(Cut to the street as Hearst and his gang walk to a
waiting coach. We see Merrick approach Hearst.)
Merrick: I wonder if, the other day, you took my not
publishing the news that you’d been shot for a failure to observe, or lay it
correctly to a judgment on my part that suppressing the news would better serve
the camp.
Hearst:
I’ve stopped reading your paper, Merrick. I’ll have my people here start another
one, to lie the other way. (To the coach driver) Hop down. I’d like
to take a last look around. (He climbs up onto the driver’s seat of the
stage coach, Cy watching from above.)
Cy: If
I’m quick enough about this, Janine, maybe me and Mr. Hearst will get to hear
the Lord judge Leon. (We see Seth exit the Gem and stand on the
boardwalk watching Hearst. He looks up the street to see Alma and Sophia coming
down the way in a wagon from the cemetery. As they pass Hearst’s coach, he makes
a show of waving his hat to Alma as she glares at him. Seth observes this and is
pissed. On Cy’s balcony, Cy grabs Janine and pulls her over to the rail)
Cy: You want to get a listen too? (He pulls out a pistol) Huh? (He points it in Hearst’s direction, as Seth
comes down the street towards Hearst. We see Charlie is backing Seth with a
shotgun.)
Seth: No, Charlie. (Charlie drops
back)
Hearst:
Yes, Mr. Bullock?
Seth: You’ve
looked at your last body. You’re done tipping your fucking hat. Get out of here
or I’ll drag you out by the ear. (Cy watches from above. Seeing he has no
clear shot at Hearst, he points the gun to Janine’s head. She struggles, and
pulls down her dress to expose herself to Cy)
Janine:
Oh, Please. Please don’t.
Hearst:
Drive on. (As the coach drives away, Cy
lets Janine go)
Cy:
Tell fucking Con to take care of
that asshole. (In the street, Alma’s
wagon has stopped to watch Seth and Hearst. She and Seth look at each other,
then her wagon moves on.)
Charlie: (walking over to Seth)
You
done fucking good.
Seth: I did
fucking nothing.
Charlie:
That’s often a tough one, in aid of the larger purpose.
Seth:
Which is laying head to pillow, not confusing yourself with a
sucker?
Charlie:
Far as I ever get.
Seth: ‘Cause
that’s gonna be a project tonight.
(We see Sol leading Trixie down
the boardwalk, wrapped in a shawl.
Seth smiles, pats Charlie and walks away through the group of Hawkeye’s
men. We see E.B. peeking out of the hole in the wall of the hotel, then he
carefully steps out onto the roof, looking around. He walks to the edge, puts
his hands on his hips and looks around the camp as though he was in charge
again.)
(Cut to Al’s office, we see him scrubbing the blood
stain on his floor. Johnny
stands in the doorway)
Johnny:
Did she
suffer?
Al: I was
gentle as I was able, and that’s the last we’ll fucking speak of it, Johnny. (Johnny leaves, Al declares under his breath
-) Wants
me to tell him something pretty.
(He scrubs the stain as the screen
fades to black.)
Written
by: Ted Mann
Directed
by: Mark Tinker
Al Swearengen: Ian McShane Dan Dority: W Earl Brown
Seth Bullock: Timothy Olyphant
Alma Garret: Molly Parker
Ellsworth: Jim Beaver
Doc Cochran: Brad Dourif
Sol Star: John Hawkes
Trixie: Paula Malcomson
Tom Nuttall: Leon Rippy
Cy Tolliver: Powers Boothe
Leon: Larry Cedar
Sophia: Bree Seanna Wall
Silas Adams: Titus Welliver
Martha Bullock: Anna Gunn
Hugo Jarry: Stephen Toblowsky
Claudia: Cynthia Ettinger
Richardson: Ralph Richeson |
E.B. Farnum: William Sanderson
Calamity Jane: Robin Weigert
Charlie Utter: Dayton Callie Johnny Burns: Sean Bridgers
Andy Cramed: Zach Grenier
Jewel: Geri Jewell
A. W. Merrick: Jeffrey Jones
Mose Manual: Pruitt Taylor Vince
Mr. Wu: Keone Young
Joanie Stubbs: Kim Dickens
Con Stapleton: Peter Jason
Blazanov: Pavel Lychnikoff
Steve: Michael Harney
Jack Langrishe: Brian Cox
Aunt Lou Marchbanks: Cleo King
Harry Manning: Brent Sexton
Jen: Jennifer Lutheran |
Transcription last updated on 02/06/2007 | |
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