The last time I met you we were almost hung,
you hit me with a log, you shot two men
and you forced me to kill another.
And now you say you're sorry?
Hey Boy.
Who are you talking to?
Myself.
He order black-eyed pea,
hominy "gritis" and chili.
He must have a copper-lined stomach.
You know soon enough.
He is in your "loom."
He who?
He said you expect him.
He have your card.
I go?
He's in my "loom"?
Yes, your loom.
You go. I go.
Howdy, Mr. Paladine.
Care for a kumquat?
I don't think you'd like them things.
You let him in here?
He did not. I snuck in.
Hey Boy.
Out.
Watch out.
Please, Mr. Paladine, you're tearing my mendings.
Egad.
Where did you get that?
I stole it.
If you fire that thing, you'll blow both our heads off.
And that's just what I'm fixin' to do.
Now you listen to me and let me have my say
and then I'll leave.
Monk, the last time I saw you,
you almost got us hung,
you hit me in the head with a log,
you killed two men and caused me to kill a third one.
I know that, and I'm sorry.
That what you came all the way to San Francisco for,
to tell me you're sorry?
Well, I am. I'm real sorry.
I've came here to make up for it.
In language you can understand-
I'm going to grab you by the tongue
and snap you inside out.
Well, there.
I thought you was my only friend.
I came here in the first place to see my Uncle Mort.
Why don't you see him?
Well, I tried to, but he died before I could get here.
It was like he know'd I was coming.
I wish I'd thought of it myself.
Uncle Mort was a real smart man.
Writ out this piece of paper here
that I brung to ya for you to read.
You can read, can't ya?
They tell you what this is?
No, they just handed it to me in that paper sack.
Paper sack. Hm.
Well, your Uncle Mort has left you
a half interest in Bordelli's.
Yeah, that was his name- Bordelli.
Oh, Monk, Bordelli's is...
They wouldn't even let me in the place.
The purtiest woman I've ever saw in my born days
had me flang right out in the road.
So I just done the only thing I could-
I just jumped up and come over to your house.
This is not my house.
This is the Hotel Carlton, and you can't stay here.
I'll tell ya, this... San Francisco
is a awful lonely ol' town when you don't know nobody.
Yeah.
Well, Monk,
let's go back to Bordelli's
and see about your inheritance, hmm?
I know'd you'd help me out in my time of need.
Hey Boy, burn the sheets.
Yes, Mr. Paladin.
Mr. Paladine, be careful now
'cause there's a big feller in here
that split the inside of my mouth when I was here before.
Come in, sir.
Don't mind him.
He's with me.
But he ain't welcome.
I about decided to fire you.
Monk.
We've come to see Augusta.
She don't want to see you.
Oh? Well, suppose you let her decide that for herself.
And you'll go after it.
Yee-hah!
Mr. Paladine,
I saw pert near a hundred women in my life,
and that one right there is the purtiest one I ever saw.
Mr. Paladin,
you should be ashamed of the company you keep.
Out!
Augusta, I think you should talk to him.
Beneath that rough-hewn exterior
there beats a heart of sweetest corn,
and besides, he owns a half interest in this place.
Who says, his Uncle Mort?
Mm-hmm.
Listen, when I say play, the music plays.
When I say sing, dance and enjoy yourselves,
my friends enjoy.
That's the way it was when Mort was alive,
and that's the way it is now that he's dead.
Power, throw them out. Uh-uh-uh.
Hold on.
Ma'am, it just ain't right for anybody
as purty as you are to see what I'm a-fixin' to do to him.
Why, you big ol' mossy-horned moose!
I'm gonna clobber you right 'tween the horns!
He don't fit in here.
And these men will kill him if he keeps on trying.
Monk.
Please, Mr. Paladine.
Cut it out! You're getting me mad!
No, no, you... mossy-horned...
All right, now you did it.
Monk!
Ya failed me again.
No! No!
Augusta, perhaps you're right.
Perhaps he doesn't really belong here.
Well, you're welcome anytime, Mr. Paladin.
Thank you.
Now if that ain't the stupidest,
orneriest, unreasonable-est,
purtiest woman I ever seen, I'll throw in with ya.
You smell like a cross between cooked cabbage
and a wet Airedale.
Come on.
Now you get into that bathtub.
Not on your old tintype, I won't.
Well, I hope you're happy now.
Monk, hold still so he can shave that moss off your face.
You look like a mush rat.
I usually shave it with my skinnin' knife,
but it dulls it so bad I don't do it very often.
If you fellers would quit squalli''
like a bunch of geese, I got things to do.
Mr. Paladine,
how come you paying for all this?
'Cause you're going to join the human race
whether you want to or not.
Well, the human race never cared much about me before.
Perfecto.
Well, I don't look so bad when I get all duded up, do I?
How's that?
It's better than a jab in the eye with a sharp stob.
Mr. Paladine. Hmm?
Don't you think my sleeves
ought to be just a bit longer?
Monk, you never had a shirt in your life until tonight.
It's late. Come on.
What'd you say?
That's what I thought you said.
You hominy-headed, clobber-footed horned toad!
Monk...
I'll stomp your eyeballs.
Monk, I do not have time
to put you through an entire course of manners tonight.
So for the rest of the night, you imitate me
and you start by imitating me keeping my mouth shut.
I had such a good time, I decided to come back.
What's your pleasure, gentlemen?
Dom Pérignon.
Can I have supper?
I had dinner at breakfast.
Certainly. White whiskey for my friend.
And will you ask the owner to join us please?
Certainly.
Let me have the paper.
Aw, looky at her.
Mr. Paladin.
Augusta, will you join us?
By all means.
What are you drinking?
Dom Pérignon and white whiskey for my friend.
You better sit down, ma'am.
You're liable to stick that a-way.
I don't believe it.
Well, it's true.
This is a miracle of modern science
and American plumbing.
You take the door.
Right.
Power, you better bring me a white whiskey.
I said now.
What's botherin' him?
Is he mad at somebody?
Monk.
Still, it's not a bad question.
Woman alone- every muscle-bound clown with ambition
thinks he can swindle,
bully or just plain cheat her.
I've been aiming to fire him for some time.
Just might get around to it.
Now you-
what's your game?
It's not a game.
Monk's uncle left him a half interest in this place.
What makes you think so?
Is that Mort's handwriting?
Well, what if it is?
Think I'm taking in some scruffy little crook
who came in here looking like he had been in
a wrestling match in a cow lot?
He can change, Augusta. He can learn.
Look at him now.
Mr. Paladin,
I clawed my way into this place.
I made it into something I'm proud of.
Mort was like an extra mortgage on the place.
What do I want taking care of this- him?
Maybe I could help out somehow?
How?
Paladin, that paper don't mean a thing.
Augusta...
this is the most popular place in San Francisco.
And you've worked really hard to make it that way.
Why do you want to tie this place up in a lawsuit
that nobody can win?
SP
¶ If I had wings ¶
¶ Like Noah's doves ¶
¶ I'd fly up the river ¶
¶ To the one I love ¶
¶ Fare-thee-well ¶
¶ Oh, honey ¶
¶ Fare-thee-well ¶
¶ One of these days ¶
¶ And it won't be long ¶
¶ You'll call my name ¶
¶ And I'll be gone ¶
¶ Fare-thee-well ¶
¶ Oh, honey ¶
¶ Fare-thee-well ¶
¶ If I had wings ¶
¶ Like Noah's doves ¶
¶ I'd fly up the river ¶
¶ To the one I love ¶
¶ Fare-thee-well ¶
¶ Oh, my honey ¶
¶ Fare-thee-well. ¶
Monk, that was beautiful.
It's all yours.
Where did you learn to sing like that?
Oh, fiddle, I can't sing.
I was just aping a fella I heard sing once
in the medicine show.
That was pretty darn good.
Much obliged to ya.
Hey, hold on there!
That's personal property!
...turn me loose!
I'm gettin' mad!
Power, stop it!
That would be an extremely bad idea.
Power, you're fired.
And so are your roughnecks.
Mort Bordelli wasn't man enough to fire me.
I can't think you are either.
Well, I think I am.
And if I fire you, you won't need a recommendation.
Now did you hear the lady?
Lady? Ha!
I worked ten years here.
Figure I got something more coming.
Where's Monk?
You know, he won't really be satisfied
until he gets himself and me hung.
Come on.
Hotel Carlton.
I'm looking for something.
I don't want you in my way at all.
Monk, what do you think you're doing?
I'm looking for your gun.
I got me a man that needs killin'.
You go after that man, you're going to get yourself murdered.
Well, sooner or later, I got to tote my own load,
Mr. Paladine.
Everything I touch turns to mud.
I swore I'd act decent.
And what did I do?
Went in, wrecked your saloon.
Got you throwed out with me.
Get me fine clothes- look at 'em.
I ain't even a very good fighter.
Just kind of hard to whup
'cause I don't care about getting hit.
She knows.
She's seen it.
I ain't nothin' but just a stinkin' ol' trail scavenger,
used to getti'' nothin' but leftovers.
Set my sights kind of high on you, Miss Augusta.
There's nothing worse than a man feeling sorry for himself.
You pull yourself together.
Well, where is that gun?
Monk.
I'm afraid I'm going to have to handle this.
No...
Augusta, are you going to handle it?
I can't.
Well, then I will.
Monk.
Everybody on this Earth was created
to handle certain specific problems.
Now this is my domain.
Augusta, will you take him out in the other room
and keep him out there?
I'll keep him there.
Hey Boy, my gear.
Power.
Hey, Power, he's here.
Power, that property doesn't belong to you.
It belongs to two friends of mine.
Now I'm offering you a chance to leave peacefully.
Power, I'm talking you, not to those two.
This is a duel.
We can both have seconds.
You've got seconds and thirds.
And you have two or three seconds to raise your army.
He's got one.
Monk, get out of here.
Get out of there, Monk!
You all right?
Tarnation, that gun smarts.
Are they all dead?
All six of those barrels went off at once.
All went off at once?
I thought I got 'em both with one shot.
Monk.
Well, Augusta, it looks like you've got
what every woman should have-
a man you can train from scratch.
That's just one step after itch.
Good night, young lovers.
¶ "Have gun will travel," reads the card of a man ¶
¶ A knight without armor in a savage land ¶
¶ His fast gun for hire heeds the calling wind ¶
¶ A soldier of fortune is the man called Paladin ¶
¶ Paladin, Paladin, where do you roam? ¶
¶ Paladin, Paladin, far, far from home. ¶