Is he dead?
Be careful.
Ah-ah, ah-ah!
Ah!
You're Martha Jane Conroy.
You don't know me,
but you're the first person I ever saw do this.
You're acquainted with this... person?
Mr. McGinnis, meet Calamity Jane.
And I'd like my bath prepared for her now, please.
In my hotel?
Certainly not!
It's quite all right.
Mr. McGinnis, have the clerk prepare my bill.
Eh?
And, Hey Girl, pack my things.
Right now? Right now.
Uh, Mr. Paladin...
Hmm?
Any guest of yours is, uh...
more than welcome.
We thank you, Mr. McGinnis.
And you!
You! Who are you?!
Oh, sure a body could catch its death in there.
Couldn't they?
Well, it wouldn't be the first time
you've risked your life in a noble cause, would it?
Well, don't be just standing there with your mouth open.
Excuse me.
Thank you.
Jane, whatever happened to one of
the great ladies of the West?
The name get to be too heavy for you to carry?
When you were trick shooting with Ned Blackstock's show,
I don't think there'd be more than a half a dozen men
in the whole West would want to tangle with you.
What happened to me?
Mm-hmm.
Well, what do you think?
Well, as I remember it,
you never drank while you were working.
That was before Ned Blackstock
took to looking for younger women!
Oh.
And then you resigned to the bottle,
and, uh, Ned had to find himself another girl.
Well, you know, we all ain't got but one life to waste.
And what about those books with your name all over the cover?
Must have made a lot of money from that.
Well, I'll tell you,
I'll sell you one for ten cents.
It's in my jacket pocket.
Oh, yow!
It's hotter than Hades!
You know, once, on a long train ride,
I translated this thing into Latin
'cause it was so unreadable in English.
Still, you must have made a lot of money from it.
Oh.
Sure, it made a lot of money.
For himself!
For Ned Blackstock.
Why, he made more money writing about the Old West
than 10,000 poor fools
who lived and died in it.
You didn't have any kind of a contract?
A contract?
As close as we were?
Why, it'd be like, it'd be like asking
your-your white-haired mother to show you
her marriage certificate.
And what happened then?
And then there was Lucy Weyerhauser.
That was her name.
And she looked as innocent as a, as a cow.
With its, with its throat cut.
But I tell you, that isn't what grinds me.
It's this.
This that really grinds me.
Look here.
Ned Blackstock's
variety show, dime museum.
And he's featuring the original, authentic Calamity Jane.
Look at her.
The bold and grinning hussy.
Robbing a woman of her most precious possession:
her honest name.
Now, wait a minute.
You know that Calamity Jane is no more your honest name
than any one of the dozen other legends
that Ned Blackstock manufactured
about you.
Legends, is it?!
Well, now, you just listen here to me.
I tell you that
it was I who scouted for Custer against the Nursey Purseys.
And 'twas I who rode 90 miles through Indian territory
for-for General Crook
and caught myself a death of cold.
And when Wild Bill Hickok-
my-my darling Wild Bill-
when he was gunned in the back by Jack McCall,
'twas me, me and nobody else but me,
who cornered him in a butcher shop with a meat cleaver!
And tell me,
go on and tell me, who are you to come along
and take my good name away?!
Why, if Wild Bill Hickok were alive,
you wouldn't dare talk to me like that!
Do you hear me?!
Do you?!
Jane, I have heard of doctors
who consider drinking a sickness.
And what do I pay them with?
The grateful sigh of a, of a pure maiden.
Yeah.
Well... let's get you some clothes,
and then let's go and collect some money.
Coming?
I'm thinking a swim in that lake
would put the life back into us both.
And you're right.
That's beautiful.
So that's the kind of lady you think I am.
You're quite ready to take me cavorting in the altogether,
with not so much as a tip of your hat.
Well, I beg your pardon, milady.
Well, Mr. Paladin, you waltz yourself over there,
and then you take yourself a bathe,
and then I'll do the same after you're done.
Jane.
Now, when I left it to you to buy these provisions,
I did not expect you to include any liquid flour.
Let me have it.
No.
No! Give it to me!
You know why I came with you?
To help me get my money,
not to be deviling the life out of me.
Good-bye.
I think I preferred the legend anyway.
Paladin, wait for me!
Paladin, don't leave me.
You don't know what it's been like.
It's the pain.
You see, ever since I been struck with a cannonball...
...at-at the Battle of Platte River,
oh, there ain't nothing
that'll take away the fearful agony but whiskey.
That what the doctors told you?
The doctors?
The doctors said it was a flaming miracle
I could walk at all.
And would I please let them carve on me
so they could study the queer workings
of benevolent providence.
Yeah.
It's disappointed with me you are, I'm thinking.
Well, I guess it's just that
I got to believing a legend myself:
the Joan of Arc of the Dakotas- Calamity Jane.
I am Calamity, mister.
And don't you forget it for a minute.
Where you going?
I need a drink.
That's where I'm going.
¶ Oh, I've seen employment advertised ¶
¶ "It's just the thing," says I ¶
¶ But the dirty spalpeen ended with ¶
¶ "No Irish need apply"
¶ I'm a decent boy just landed ¶
¶ From the town of Ballyfad
¶ And I want
¶ A situation, yes
¶ And I want it mighty bad
¶ Oh, I seen employment advertised ¶
¶ "'Tis just the thing," says I ¶
¶ But the dirty spalpeen ended with ¶
¶ "No Irish need apply."
Oh, to tell you the truth, I just got here.
Let me have the glass.
Don't be telling me what to do.
You ain't no husband of mine!
Look at himself.
Nagging the life out of me like an old hen.
"Don't do this," says he, "don't do that," says he.
Why, it's enough, it's enough to send the blessed saints
in the corridors of Heaven itself screaming for the bottle.
Well, here's to you, Mr. Bluenose!
Here, now, here.
Oh.
And you men are going to stand there
and watch a helpless, fearful woman
being battered to the ground by a fearful blackguard?!
We left our guns up at the camp.
Well, I ain't afraid of his guns.
Now, you make tracks, mister,
'fore I wipe the walls with you.
You coming?
Well...
at least there's one man who cares.
Paladin?
Hmm?
How old do you think I am?
Go to sleep.
I can't go to sleep!
Why not?
It's my back.
It's hurting something fearful.
Well, I don't have any whiskey.
Would you rub it for me?
Huh?
Please?
All right, come on.
Oh.
Oh...
Oh, that feels good.
Paladin? Hmm?
Would you say I still hold some attraction for a man?
Well, it depends on the man.
How about you?
Well, if that money can buy you a cure,
I'll bet on you holding your own
against any woman in San Francisco.
Oh, those are wild and wicked words you're saying.
Now, didn't you once announce
to the assembled press of two continents
that there would never be another man
to take Wild Bill's place?
Or did a reporter make that up, too?
No. No, I did say that.
But you want to know the truth,
the Lord's truth?
Wild Bill never so much as gave me a second look.
What about that story about your trapping Jack McCall
with a meat cleaver after he killed Wild Bill?
Do you know what I said when I heard Wild Bill was shot?
I said, "Boys, who'll buy me another drink?"
And if you ever repeat that to a living soul, I'll...
Oh...
Oh, Paladin, Paladin, help me.
¶
Well, now.
That's very attractive.
Sure, now, it's a beautiful dress.
And a very attractive woman.
Thank you.
Lucy Weyerhauser's next performance is at 8:30.
I can't. Yes, you can.
No, I... Ned Blackstock'll be there.
I can't! I can't do it cold sober!
I can't! Yes, you can. That's the only way you can do it.
No. Now, come on, take a look.
Come on. No.
Look at you.
Come on.
Ned Blackstock sees you looking like that,
he'll send Lucy Weyerhauser back to shilling for pitchmen
at county fairs.
Paladin, I'm scared.
I couldn't bear Ned Blackstock laughing at me!
Don't you hear me? I'm scared, I'm scared!
All right.
Maybe it is better.
I'll go and see Ned
before he gets wind that you're in town
and tries to do something about it.
Now, you get some rest.
You promise?
Yes.
Beautiful! Bravo!
Cheers.
Who's paying for that?
Eh?
Your money or Martha Jane's?
So, um, she sicced you on me, did she?
Yes, sir... as a matter of fact,
she did.
Did she, um... did she say what for?
Certainly- the money you owe her.
Mister, I've known Martha Jane
ever since she was a cheap honky-tonker.
Why, she'd have too much pride than to hire a gunslinger
if it was nothing but the money she was after.
Oh, and what do you suggest she's after?
Me.
Will you listen to him?!
Now, you don't think much of yourself, do you?
She always was crazy jealous,
ready to start throwing lead
the second I'd so much as bat an eyelash at another female.
Such as this sweet little angel here,
which never hurt a fly.
Mm, just listen to him.
You want Martha Jane out of your life,
pay her the money you owe her.
With pleasure.
And stop exploiting her name.
It's little enough she has left in this world.
Sir...
I created that name.
Week after week, I debased the national press
with her thrilling adventures.
"The Duchess of Deadwood."
"The Joan of Arc of the Plains."
"The White Angel of Mercy."
Eh! Let her hang on to her tarnished glory.
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
You meet me tomorrow at 10:00 outside the bank.
Where is she?
Do you know who I am?
I'm Calamity Jane!
And if I had a mind to,
I could make any of you dance until your feet dropped.
Now, hold it.
Jane...
why don't you go outside...
and wait.
Out of my way, mister.
I've got business here.
Good.
One...
...two...
Now tell them to drop the gun.
Lucy, honey...
he'll kill me if you don't...
What about me?
Lucy.
Jane, put it away.
Oh, I...
I've been waiting a long time
to catch up with that schemin' hussy.
You shoot her, and I'll shoot him.
No more, no more!
Only because I want you to have a firm and steady hand
when you sign that check tomorrow.
Jane...
Jane, you know it's all over between us.
Jane... why do you look at me like that?
Oh, Ned...
Ned, me darlin',
I'm going to take you to your room,
and I'm gonna fix you all up,
me darlin'.
Oh, it ain't for nothin'
they call me the White Angel of Mercy.
And you writin' the loveliest stories about me
with words that come thunderin' through...
Hey! Where you going?
Let's you and I leave them alone, shall we?
Hmm?
Be a shame to waste all that champagne, wouldn't it?
I think you're right.
Oh, if I but served my God
with half the zeal I serve my queen...
What?
Nothing.
Um...
Keep your hands above the table.
¶ "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.