No, please! No! Please!
Davey!
- Come running, lad! - Please don't!
- Stop it! - Brand you like a damn steer!
- Bitch! - No, please!
Hold the bitch! Hold her!
Hold her or I'll cut her tits off!
Go get Skinny! Quick!
Mike, don't!
Skinny!
Think it's funny?
Skinny, get the gun!
Get off of her, cowboy.
- They wouldn't let you settle it? - You know Skinny.
He says he'll shoot them.
I says, "You can't." He says, "Get Little Bill."
I says, "He's sleeping." But he don't care.
He'll shoot them boys soon.
She dying?
She'll 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.
Hang them, Little Bill.
Go to the office and get the bullwhip.
A whipping's all they get after what they done?
- It ain't no little thing. - But what they done...
Alice!
Shut up!
- Whipping won't settle this. - No?
Here's a contract between me and Delilah Fitzgerald, the cut whore.
I brought her from Boston, paid her expenses and all.
I got a contract that represents an investment of capital.
Property.
Damaged property.
Like if I hamstrung one of their ponies.
You think nobody'll fuck her now?
Hell, no!
Leastways, won't pay to do it!
Nobody's going to pay good money for a cut-up whore!
You boys are off the Bar T.
Got your own ponies?
Yeah, I got four.
Six.
Guess you want no trial, no fuss?
No, sir.
All right.
You did the cutting.
This fall, you bring in five ponies to Skinny.
Five?
And you...
...bring two.
- You give them over, hear? - Yes, sir.
The whip.
Maybe we don't need it now.
I'll tell you, come the spring, Skinny don't have those ponies...
...I'll come looking for you. - You ain't whipping them?
I 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...
...it ain't like they was tramps or loafers or...
...bad men. They were just...
...hardworking boys that were foolish.
- Lf they was wicked in a regular way... - Like whores?
Tend to Delilah.
Go ahead.
I got $85.
I don't know.
If Delilah doesn't care, what are we so riled up about?
We let them smelly fools ride us like horses...
...doesn't mean we must let them brand us like horses.
Maybe we ain't nothing but whores, but...
...by God, we ain't horses!
I got $112.
That's everything.
And you, Faith?
200.
240... dollars.
Jesus, what you been doing?
Giving Skinny something special?
She laughs.
With what Kate got, and Silky, me and Little Sue...
It ain't enough.
Not yet, maybe.
You don't look like no son-of-a- bitching cold-blooded assassin.
Say what?
You call yourself Mr. William Munny.
You have me confused with someone else, mister.
Shot Charlie Pepper in Lake County?
Hey, Pa!
What, son?
Two more hogs got the fever.
You shot Charlie Pepper.
You killed William Harvey and robbed that train in Missouri.
Hold on.
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?
I thought you'd come to kill me for something I'd done in the old days.
I could have.
Easy.
I guess maybe so.
You don't look like no meaner-than-hell, cold-blooded damn killer.
Maybe I ain't.
Uncle Pete says you was the meanest goddamn son-of-a-bitch alive.
And if I wanted a partner for a killing...
...you were the worst one.
Meaning the best.
Because you're as cold as snow...
...and don't have no weak nerve nor fear.
Pete said that?
He did.
I'm a killer myself, but I haven't killed as many as you...
...because of my youth.
Schofield Kid, they call me.
Why?
You from Schofield?
No, it's on account of my...
...Schofield-Smith & Wesson pistol.
How about it?
How about what?
How about being my partner?
I'm heading north in through Niobrara to Wyoming.
Kill two no-good cowboys.
For what?
For cutting up a lady.
Her face.
Cut her eyes out, her ears off.
They even cut her teets.
Jesus.
$1,000 reward, Will.
500 each.
I can't move those damn pigs!
Watch your cussing.
Do your best. Go to the pump and get cleaned up.
Come on.
I ain't like that anymore, Kid.
It was whiskey done it as much as anything else.
I ain't had a drop in over 10 years.
My wife...
...cured me...
...of drink and...
...wickedness.
You don't look so prosperous.
You could buy her a new dress with your half.
You could buy your wife a fancy...
She's passed on.
Been gone near three years now.
Don't tell anyone about the reward. I don't need no one else trying to collect.
Don't see no one.
Change your mind, you could catch me.
I'll ride due west for the trail headed north into Wyoming.
Let's separate those hogs.
Two others.
I think they got the fever.
Took you boys a while.
A few more days and I was going to call on the sheriff.
How about that?
The river was all swelled up. Couldn't cross it.
I bet. Get them horses to the livery.
Take that one over around the back.
Now here's a beauty.
You got my two. This one ain't yours.
We'll see about that.
Bastards! Get out of town!
Get out of here!
You are very sick sons-of-bitches!
Don't come back, butcher!
This here pony...
...I brung for the lady my partner cut.
She's the best.
Better than what I gave him.
She can sell her...
...or do what she wants.
A pony?
She ain't got no face left and 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?
I could tell your ma liked those flowers I gave her.
She ain't a saddle horse no more, Pa. Ain't used to the feel.
Take care of your sister, son.
Kill a few chickens if you must and keep those hogs with fever separate.
If 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.
In my youth before I met your dear departed ma...
...I was weak and given to mistreating animals.
This horse and those hogs over there...
...are getting even for the cruelty I inflicted.
I used to be able to cuss and whip a horse like this...
...but your ma showed me the error of my ways.
I'll be back in 2 weeks.
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!
Lying?
What if somebody comes to collect?
You going to hump them a thousand times?
The people come for that thousand won't tolerate you not having it!
They won't just cut up your face!
You stupid bitches.
Stupid bitches.
Shit!
Damn it! Jesus!
Get your finger?
Hello, Skinny.
You snuck up on me.
Like her?
I heard you done the roof yourself.
Roof?
Jesus, I did practically the whole damn thing myself.
The Roberts boy carried wood for me, but that's all.
What's that wood?
I'm building a porch here so I 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...
...been humping all them cowboys been through town the last two weeks.
Shit.
We got railroad barons and 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?
I didn't hear till last night myself.
The word's got all the way to Texas by now.
Nobody will come clear from Texas.
They got all that money?
Women can lie. Ask where the money is, they say they got none.
But the five of them could have it.
Maybe.
That much?
You could run off them two cowboys.
I 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. I like your house.
It's Will.
Come in out of the sun.
See to Will's horse.
What you doing here?
Just thought I'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, Will? Ten years?
Eleven.
Easy, huh?
It wasn't all that easy even back then.
And we were young and full of beans.
If you was mad at them...
...over some wrong, I 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 her face, cut her eyes out, cut her fingers off, cut her tits.
Everything but her cunny, I suppose.
I'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?
Got some hogs to separate.
How long will you be gone?
Two weeks, I guess.
What's this Kid like?
Three ways?
I see you still have that Spencer rifle.
And I can still knock the eye out of a bird flying.
Jesus.
He must be moving right along.
We'll come across him tomorrow, I reckon.
Got used to my bed. This ain't going to be like home.
That ain't the only thing I'll miss.
Hell, I'm sorry.
Don't fret it. It ain't nothing.
She don't like it much...
...you riding off with me.
Gave me the evil eye.
You know, Sally's Indian and...
...lndians ain't over-friendly.
I don't blame her.
I won't hold it against her.
She knew me back then.
She knew what a...
...no-good son-of-a-bitch I was.
She ain't allowing that I changed.
She don't realize I ain't like that no more.
- You know women. - I ain't the same, Ned.
Claudia straightened me up. Cleared me of drinking whiskey and all.
Going on this killing...
...don't mean I'll go back to the way I was.
Just need the money.
Get a new start for them youngsters.
Remember that drover I shot in the mouth...
...and his teeth came out the back of his head?
I think about him now and again.
He didn't do anything to deserve to get shot.
At least nothing I remembered when I sobered up.
You was one crazy son-of-a-bitch.
No one liked me.
The boys all thought I'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, I reckon.
Quincy used to just watch all the time.
Scared.
Like I said...
...you ain't like that no more.
That's right.
I'm just a fellow now.
I 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.
I 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.
Sure as hell sounds like a John Bull to me.
Again, I don't wish to give offense...
...when I suggest that 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 I heard about queens... - Shut up, Joe.
What's wrong with you? This dude...
Might be this dude here is English Bob.
Works for the railroad shooting Chinamen.
Might be waiting for some cowboy...
...to touch his pistol so he can shoot him.
Is that a fact, mister?
You English Bob?
Pheasants.
Let's shoot some pheasants.
Ten shots.
And let's say $1 a pheasant.
I'll shoot for the Queen, and you for...
...whomever.
That's 8 for me and 1 for you.
That comes to 7 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.
It's the climate that does it. That, and the infernal distances.
Does what?
Induces people to shoot persons in high places.
It's a savage country, really.
That's the second one they shot in 20 years.
It's uncivilized shooting persons of substance.
Thank you.
Pardon me, gentlemen.
The law obliges you to surrender all sidearms...
...to the proper authorities during your visit.
Proper authority?
I can assure you...
...that neither my companion or I 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.
If I'm going to get shot, I'd rather it was hot than cold.
Everything hurts me more when it's cold.
- Lf you hit your thumb... - Shut up, Fatty!
- I only said... - Clyde's back.
- With Little Bill? - No.
Shit.
- You clean my Remington? - Cleaned and loaded.
Where's Little Bill, for chrissake?
Building his damn porch.
Building his porch?
If you got shot, would you want it to be a hot or cold day?
I ain't going to get shot.
He's coming?
Of course he's coming.
I just loaded that.
I don't trust nobody to load my guns for a shooting.
What he say?
Little Bill said he was building his porch.
You seen that thing?
It was all loaded.
You got three pistols and you only got one arm!
I 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.
Killers.
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.
If you pointed a pistol at a queen...
...your hands would shake as if palsied.
I wouldn't point no pistol at nobody.
Always a wise policy.
But if you did, I can assure you...
...the sight of royalty would cause you to dismiss all thoughts of bloodshed.
You would stand, how should I put it...
...in awe.
Now, a President...
Well, why not shoot the 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 I don't wish to play?
No matter. They burned the table in '78 for firewood.
Right.
Quite right.
Mr. Beauchamp, I 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?
I thought that you were dead.
You've shaved your chin whiskers off.
I was tasting the soup two hours after I ate it.
Actually, what I heard was you...
...fell off your horse. Drunk, of course.
And that you broke your bloody neck.
I heard that one myself, Bob.
Hell, I even thought I was dead.
Till I found out I was just in Nebraska.
Who's he?
W.W. Beauchamp.
This is Little Bill Daggett.
And friends, of course.
From Newton, Hays? From Abilene?
In person.
You work for the railroads too?
I write.
Letters?
Books, Bill. Books.
Actually...
...he's my biographer.
I wouldn't do that if I were you.
It's only a book.
A book?
That means you boys can read.
That means you saw the signs...
...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?
If you don't see it. Or better, if you don't hear it.
I'm afraid so, Bob.
I 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?"
Duke.
"The Duke."
Good afternoon, gentlemen.
I'll have that.32, Bob.
Now, Little Bill.
You will leave me at the mercy of my enemies.
Enemies?
You been talking about the Queen again?
On Independence Day?
I guess you think I'm kicking you.
But it ain't so!
What I'm doing is talking!
Hear?!
Talking to all them villains in Kansas!
To all those villains in Missouri!
And those villains...
...down in Cheyenne!
I'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.
I mean, get yourself a woman.
No, I never go into town for that.
A man like me?
Only woman I could get is one I'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, and all.
You just use your hand?
I don't miss it all that much.
Goddamn, somebody's shooting at us!
You hit?
I 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?
I 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?
It'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?
I ain't!
Chased that horse a damn mile.
- What was you shooting at us for? - I thought you was following me.
We was. You said if I changed my mind...
Wasn't nothing said about no partner.
This here's Ned Logan.
He's the Schofield Kid, nephew to Pete Sothow.
I 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.
I can take care of them two myself. It 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 coming close. - Hands off!
Thought I'd check it for you. Maybe something's bent.
It ain't... bent.
You were shooting all over creation!
You'll share your half with him?
I figure three ways.
Wrong.
Sorry I wasted your time, Ned.
You going back with him?
He's my partner.
He don't go, I don't.
What's it come to, three ways?
Shit!
What are you pissing on about?
What are you looking at?
Looking at?
Clouds.
He's looking at them clouds on account of we got a storm coming.
I seen them.
You was smart to change your mind.
I'm a real good shot with this rifle.
See that hawk?
I could hit it with one shot.
Hell, I could hit it too. If I 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 going to shoot canteens! - How far? 100 yards?
More.
- See that scrub oak tree yonder? - Fuck you.
- He's blind, Will! - I ain't blind, you asshole!
Hold it!
How far can you see, Kid? 50 yards?
You bet your ass I can see 50 yards, Will.
I can see well enough to shoot this son-of-a-bitch.
Hold on.
Hear that, Ned?
Kid can see 50 yards. Fine.
Jesus.
Fifty yards'll do just fine. Now let's move out.
They look like real hard cases, Bob.
Did you kill all 7 of them?
Or just wing some of them?
That you here embalmed on the cover?
"The Duck of Death?"
The Duke.
"The Duke of Death."
You always were good with a pistol, but 7 of them? Boy!
Protecting that woman. How the hell do you do that?
It's desirable in the publishing business to take a certain...
...liberty when depicting the cover scene.
For reasons involving the marketplace.
From what I read, the writing's not that much different than the picture.
I can assure you, Mr. Daggett...
...that the events described are taken from eyewitness accounts.
- Eyewitnesses? - Yes, sir.
Like the Duck himself, I guess.
The Duke.
Duck, I says.
"'You have insulted the honor of this beautiful woman, Corcoran'...
...said the Duck.
'You must apologize.'
But Two-Gun Corcoran would 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."
I consider that an accurate depiction of events.
There is a certain poetry to the language which I couldn't resist.
I was in the Blue Bottle Saloon in Wichita...
...the night English Bob killed Corky Corcoran.
I didn't see you there...
...nor no woman...
...nor two-gun shooters.
Nor none of this.
- You were there? - Yeah, I 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.
He had a dick that was so big...
...it was longer than the barrel on his Walker Colt.
The only insulting he did was stick that thing...
...into a French lady English Bob was sweet on.
The night Corky walked into the Blue Bottle...
...before he knows what's what, Bob takes a shot at him!
And misses, he's so damn drunk.
That bullet whizzing by panicked Corky, and he did the wrong thing.
In his hurry, he shot his damn toe off.
Meantime, Bob here...
...aims real good and squeezes off another...
...but he misses, he's still so drunk!
He hits this thousand-dollar mirror over the bar.
The Duck of Death is as good as dead...
...because Corky does it right.
He aims real careful.
No hurry...
The Walker Colt blew up in his hand...
...a failing common to that model.
If Corky'd had two guns instead of just a big dick...
...he'd have defended 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...
...'cause he's drunk...
...and shot him through the liver.
I don't like rocks on my dad-gum back.
- I sure do miss my bed. - You said that last night.
Last night I said I missed my wife. Tonight I just miss my dad-gum bed!
You'll miss your dad-gum roof next, I suppose.
Will?
That business up in Jackson County...
...that really happen?
The way they say it happened?
What business?
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.