Deadwood s03e07 Episode Script
Unauthorized Cinnamon
" Unauthorized Cinnamon " He's gone up with your son Wants notice when you're ready to serve I knocked holes in these walls Confinement gives me 'the fidgets' (agitation / mouvements incontrôlés) Set yourself up comfortable Let me confide as well, Odell, that when people only say to me with other words what I have just said to them, I quickly grow impatient All right, Sir Tell me about the gold I will, Sir
what little I know to say, hoping you will learn me the rest This is what they call an 'assay' (test de qualité d'un métal) and metallurgist report Yes, I've heard of those Sit down, boy.
Sit down "Third Baptist Congregation, Monrovia Settlement" The congregation has title to the find And how are you connected to the congregation? Odell : I'm First 'Deacon' (diacre : juste en dessous du prêtre dans la hiérarchie de l'église) , Sir Hearst : I see Congratulations Being you were known to me through my mama's letters, Odell : when the proposals started to come to us-- Hearst : Proposals? The different English proposals From Great Britain, you mean? To develop the find, yes, Sir I was sent to ask if you'd guide us Does your congregation conceive some sort of a partnership, Odell? However you thought we should do I do take in partners with the understanding that in dealing with the color, mine is the deciding voice Dealing with the color, Sir? The gold securing and exploiting the gold Do you want to see the gold now, Sir? Do you want to show it to me? They give it to me to show you, Sir Suppose we oughtn't let the congregation down I can't imagine your mother's not nearly prepared our supper What do you think of the gold? It makes me hungry, Odell Harry should be at the meeting I ain't saying he shouldn't I wasn't told to invite him Candidate for public office Please 'convey' (transmets) to Al that short of being forbidden, I intend to bring Harry with me I'll convey that word for word And what would be my position? Oughtn't I attend as the livery's new owner? Hostetler never attended Prior to blowing off his fucking head, Hostetler was a nigger Last I looked I'm white! True, as, uh, far as it goes I can abstain from attending if that closes the can of peas Oh, uh uh, you are a candidate for public office with a chance to put the fire wagon on the table If it's a question of room, shove two fucking tables together! Room is not the issue, Steve, if you have to see my down card I do not 'vouch for you' (me porter garant pour toi), nor presume to bring you uninvited, as I do Harry, because you are not the same quality person Meaning I'm not fanatic for fucking fire wagons like Harry and all the other five-year-olds Anyways I've still got the doc to invite Is this the quickest way to the cabin here Tell Al add and extra peach dish Can you certify the purity of your blood, Steve? I only ask because your nose is 'broad' (large) Take your 'apron' (tablier) off, and consider changing your shirt, which I fucking suggested yesterday Will you mind very much if we have our dinner quickly? Camp business, Dear? Come to cases.
I will get sent to hire guns quick time, bouncing in the fucking 'saddle' (selle) and 'howling' (beuglant) at every Goddamn 'hoof-fall' (coup de sabot?), I put out 'cinnamon' (canelle) Where? The meeting table On whose instruction? Cinnamon's good with peaches Do not put unauthorized cinnamon on the Goddamn meetin' table That's all the fuck we need It's available as a choice Which is not your province to offer, Jewel Well, if food's not my province, then you can make your own fucking breakfast I had best not come out of this Goddamn kitchen and find Goddamn cinnamon on the fucking meeting table! 'Leg up' (en filant) to Cheyenne by now, I'd be heading there in a civilized fucking 'gait' (démarche) Doc! Johnny Burns, Doc! You remember you, you come to that that meeting before to set the pest tent up and the like? And E.
B.
was made Mayor? Hey, Doc You can't talk? Anyway, Al's got another one of them meetings You can't come? Jesus, Doc All right, all right I'll tell him you can't come Anyway, look, I hope--I hope you feel better My best efforts, Odell, do not yet persuade your mother to be indifferent to the opinions of others If it's all right with you, Mr.
Hearst, it's all all right with me This looks wonderful, Mama Thank you I suppose you've told your mama about being First Deacon of your congregation in Liberia I haven't yet had the chance to give her the news Does your congregation have no 'strictures' (limitations / désapprobations), Odell, against its Deacon drinking? It does, yes, Sir Yet the smell of liquor's on your breath Do I mistake? No, Sir, Mr.
Hearst, you don't Did you have one drink of liquor, Odell, from nervousness about our talk? I admit I did, Sir, yes Did you drink on the ship from Liberia? No, Sir Or coming overland from New York? No, Sir, Mr.
Hearst Would the liquor I smell then be the first you've ever consumed? I've had some before, Sir Prior to becoming Deacon of the Third Baptist of Monrovia or after? I guess a little of both Showing gold thousands of miles from its 'purported' (prétendue) source to authenticate a find, I would associate less with our savior's (sauveur) qualities of character, than Adam's, or someone pretending to his innocence Before he met the serpent Hmm The combative note in that pleases me, Odell, as against what till now has seemed 'haphazard' (désordonné) and 'sloven' (négligé) and 'slipshod' (négligent) in your approach to 'fleecing' (voler / escroquer) me My mistake was thinking that you'd want your niggers praising Jesus What the hell are we talking about this for? Did the assay make sense or not? Ten dollars'll buy a report that proves a find of pure ore in your ass, Odell I guess that's why I didn't figure till you'd had someone over there, we'd be drawing up any papers Figured this'd be a getting-to-know-each-other conversation, seeing if we'd want to go any further Far as I'm concerned, we don't Calm down Now just calm down, son If I have mistook you in some regard, you'll find I'm man enough to apologize Now, just sit down, we'll finish our meal, and then maybe afterwards we'll take in the camp and, if you have any vices beyond your drinking, I might even offer you a cigar How's he doing? 'Holding his fucking own' (il tient bon / il se débrouille) Then I asked, "What good am I to myself or the camp standing sentinel over a coffee pot?" Was why I cam home I wish you wouldn't smoke in here I wish, when asleep, you wouldn't snore and fucking 'fart' (péter) I have no choice about either of those If I extinguish this fucking cigarette, it'll be in the middle of your fucking forehead Ah I'm glad she fucking fired me I hate that fucking bank It's the context, I think, that disturbs you, that she's back to using dope Yes yes! That she's back on the dope disturbs me And why, even as we speak, your own life 'hangs by a fucking thread' (ne tient qu'à un putain de fil) What's to become of that child? Johnny Burns, Mr.
Star! What is it? Well, Al's called a meeting like the ones you've come to before Does Sheriff Bullock know? Well, seemed to me they halfway called it together All right, I'm coming Uh, if you ain't get dessert yet, don't All right Al's broke out the canned peaches All right The Bullock's could take her Or we could You'd have us care for a child? Now more than previously, Sofia, Mr.
Ellsworth will spend time at the diggings Did he not come home last night? I'm not sure, Darling Possibly he did not And maybe that's why you didn't waken I didn't feel his beard Possibly that's why But he will be seeing you And everything will be all right I gave him a 'foolproof' (infaillible) fucking approach to 'wind up' (en finir) with that woman's claim, and I could have been shit drawing flies Hearst is that fucking focused on Bullock pulling his ear Yeah All collected but Doc Where the fuck is he? He ain't up to it, he says Uh, cinnamon's out for the peaches Huh? That wasn't my fucking doing Giving Hearst, Bullock is the only move that don't end with the camp in flames And that one only gets us up to 50-50 It sounds as if Cochran's turned face to the wall His fucking lungs There's quite a falling off among the other 'sawbones' (chirurgien ?) in camp We might put notice in the eastern papers Once we've ceased our 'weeping' (pleurnichage) Had he known our 'might' (force) and 'guile' (ruse), Hearst would have never left the Comstock Earnie, you got credit for a free tug (branlette?) tomorrow.
Let's go I'll spank it myself Just watch me You'll spank it in front of a Goddamn mule team Sirs, if I might explain In my vision, I 'leapt' (saute/bondis) from the coach and straight come to see him Al's got a meeting tonight, Gustave You can tell him your vision tomorrow Mr.
Swearengen! It's just as I imagined! I have something so important to give to you What? You mustn't ask me what And you mustn't ask me why You must go fuck yourself And don't speak disgusting to me or answer for Mr.
Swearengen what is a very important answer Let me know when Bullock arrives Ah Oh, Tom Nuttall's coming and he's bringing Harry Manning Bullock! Guess if you've got a pussy, even owning a bank don't get you to that table Jesus Christ, easy easy easy easy There'll be conversations left and right Don't get too far up there on the fucking 'wrist' (poignet) Do you want to use the sponge? That's not the fucking point You just not be starting length and breadth conversations throughout the fucking camp or territory or so on Or do I suppose now I take off my fucking undershirt or the like and show my tits 'and so forth' (et ainsi de suite) !? I'll leave you to wash that part Who the fuck am I fucking kidding or putting on airs in front of? I been disrobed in front of every 'barnyard' (basse-cour) creature that 'hunts' (chasse) or 'pecks' (picore) or rolls in the fucking 'mud' (boue) Who the fuck should I have shyness before or pride or the like, for Christ's sake? What difference does it make? What the fuck do I have to be ashamed of at this late fucking date? Who cares anyway?! Now go ahead and sponge my fucking tits and get it over with if that's what you fucking do It's nothing like that, Jane Well, what's it like then I never had a sister I had two And I slept with both of 'em I don't know why God let me or if he forgives me when I pray, but but I'd never hurt you, Jane, or touch you if you didn't want I believe that But I don't want to open my eyes But you can go ahead and kiss me if that's what you fucking do What possesses me to buy all of these swatches? Even though I have no reason why I should! Because who back at that camp would wear suits of such colors? But I have learned sometimes if you have a thing, the reason for the thing is that you have it! And when I am in New York City, I have a letter from a friend In the news from the camp, he says, And Mr.
Swearengen has lost the top part of his middle finger to an accident some kind" And I say, "I will take these swatches to Mr.
Swearengen," And, "I like the look of his vest when he is out in the morning, out on the balcony, drinking his coffee, and he is very much a handsome man at those times, and maybe he would like one for his 'stump' (moignon) Or maybe more a different swatch for every day, why not?" Give me your stump Don't think about it.
Just give it to me Now this corner of the swatch we pretend is the lost child The little boy goes up the mountain, around the bend, always looking for mama And where does he finally find her? Where? Here she is! Here's mama! Wrapping herself around you tight tight tight Mama's got you little Al Everything's all right! I like that color very very much Do you? Please God, come in Bullock Thank you, Gustave Please leave Before the color, no white man no man of any 'hue' (teinte) moved to civilize or improve a place like this had reason to make the effort The color brought commerce here, and such order as has been attained Yes, sir Do you want to help Liberia, Odell? I want to help myself If Liberia is where my chance is, it's all right with me Gold is your chance Thank you, Sir Gold is every man's opportunity Why do I make that argument? Because every defect in a man and in others' way of taking him, our agreement that gold has value gives us power to rise above Fond as you are of my mother, without that gold I showed you, I don't expect we'd be out here talking That is correct And, for your effrontery at our meal a moment ago I'd have seen you shot or hanged without second thought The value I gave the gold restrained me, you see your utility in connection to it And because of my gold, those at the other tables deferred to my restraint Gold confers power Power comes to any man who has the color Even if he's black? That is our species' hope: That uniformly agreeing on its value, we organize to seek the color Just before you and I met, Odell, the camp's Sheriff released me from a jail cell That's hard for me to feature I hate these places, Odell, because the truth that I know, the promise that I bring, the necessities I'm prepared to accept make me 'outcast' (paria) Isn't that foolish? Isn't that foolishness? And old man disabused long ago of certain 'yearnings' (désirs) and hopes as to how he would be held by his fellows, and yet I 'weep' (pleure) Anyway, Sir, you want to send someone back with me? Yes, I do Yes, I do, son I want to send you to help your people and take this place down like Gomorrah All being affected, we might consider some facts as a group I arrested Hearst, acting in the name of the camp Without the camp's previous fucking say-so Do you propose that? Getting a say-so before I do my duty? Might be a good open showing Hearst it's off of him Bullock's tin won't 'placate' (apaiser) Hearst Give it the fuck back to him Add to your statement or shut the fuck up I'm done Shall I, as Mayor initiate proceedings by giving my own opinions, however titular and insubstantial and merely honorific the position? Which argues against my doing so How is Hearst likely to answer? Ought steps to be taken in preemption? My instinct's to act alone, 'chart the course' (tracer le cours) for fucking carnage That this would be general among 'em whose parents were so dim as to bring them the fucking innocents is what give me fucking pause I invite the suggestions of others against my instinct to send for the guns As I've expressed to the Sheriff and Mr.
Star, and siding with your instincts, to protect the innocents, I'd send them from the camp Then fall on Hearst and his in their lair before they fall on us in ours As Wild Bill would have done This is a letter Who's the fucking letter to? What the fuck is going on? Last of those Cornishmen murdered Pasco His family Read the letter "It becomes my painful duty to inform you that Pasco Carwen was killed Dan : Stop poking your head out Merrick : earlier this week Jewel : I'm seeing who's using the cinnamon, and Harry Manning is using it plenty Merrick : His body was found in the road a short time after .
" It was not mutilated in any way His death seems to have been instantaneous as he was stabbed through the heart Pasco's funeral occurred today and was attended by coworkers and friends who all shared the same high opinion of him Everything was done by kind hands that was possible under the circumstances, and a Christian burial was given him I was not personally acquainted with Mr.
Carwen, 'save' (sauf) for one 'encounter' (rencontre) where he demonstrated grief and deep compassion at the passing of a friend I knew him by reputation as an 'earnest' (sérieux) worker and a diligent believer in right and wrong His memory I am sure will always be with those who knew and loved him, among whose number I imagine you as first A letter from you which I found in his tent causes me to convey this sad intelligence to you Sincerely yours, Seth Bullock" What shall I do with this, Mr.
Bullock? What's your fucking paper for? You fucking publish as witness, for Hearst and others to read That's a very nice fucking letter Mr.
Blazanov, had you much traffic tonight on your apparatus? Some traffic, yes I hope your important meeting had a good result As free men facing important challenges, we choose to be optimistic Sir, I ask you to take me to Mr.
Swearengen's place Well, I I will, of course, Mr.
Blazanov, though no activity you may contemplate, for example, the making of friends with is female employees, requires Mr.
Swearengen's personal approval I wish to see him for another purpose All right Shall we go now? Certainly Come on Lovely letter, wasn't it? Didn't you come back sick from one of them meetings? Last year, from the peaches Which is why I refrained this time around Far as the fire wagon, I hater you felt as I did, the moment was wrong to broach it My my throat is all fucking tight Where did you lay your hands on liquor, Harry? Harry? Help! Harry? Harry! Help! Oh.
Look, Jack White lumps on my tongue Reel it in, for God's sake I'm so sorry It's close, Jack It's very close I feel it's icy breath I hear it whispering in my ear "Forget your name We go to black" The downstairs buffet is quite passable As like to kill you as take passage with you to Liberia, his man you meeting in New York If Mr.
Hearst wanted me killed, Mama, he could see it done here Don't you ever believe you know what'd please that man, or salt him to come after you And you look a fool holding that cigar! I've played on for smaller 'stakes' (enjeux) And the gold ain't playing I ain't trying to steal nothing I'll work my way up the hog And ain't you sent me out there so I can turn out a man? I sent you so the hell that was coming here for niggers wouldn't burn you up There's plenty of fire in Liberia I can't undo what I done, Odell, any more than you can, searching out hurt I ain't searching no hurt out We all get our portion We don't need to draw it to us You hear me, Mama? I ain't searching no Goddamn hurt out I don't told you to mind who you talking to All right, Mama No bad language If you'd kept me to raise me, maybe I'd know He got $742 for you, the little nigger at the livery And this brooch here too, you can take I can't find it I can't find it Lord Jesus, forgive me! When I read you had stayed in the Comstock, I tried to come here quick, be gone before he sent for you to come I ain't come here to hurt you I never said you come to do me hurt So's you wouldn't have to see me I prayed to see you every day you was gone My God, Odell, what's wrong with you? No joy to seeing my boy! I'm sorry, son Hush, Mama.
Hush Hush Oh, do what you think you got to I couldn't find the right Hush now, Mama.
Hush I got you now "Bricks.
" You see there? Yes, I see "Bricks Stop Addition to initial order.
Stop First means of delivery.
Stop And, Blazanov? Do you believe, Mr.
Swearengen, Mr.
Hearst orders more bricks? No What do you believe? I believe he orders more humans Reinforcements To do harm! As we saw on our walk Leave to die in a country strange to them, men apart from their families, working to give them support Fuck confidentiality of communications Why not fuck a woman instead? I hope so eventually Now I deliver under seal his message to Mr.
Hearst I'll dispose of this, Blazanov How are you occupying yourself, Richardson? I'm praying the meeting went well Very touching Now clear your mind of the meeting and account for the negro with Hearst They're both in her room Despite your best efforts, Richardson, an answer of some ambiguity Is she with them? One One what? Of them Is with her Who? Aunt Lou Who is with Aunt Lou? Her son And where is Hearst? His room Then I will retire to mine Well, how was the meeting? I imagine the pool that spawned you I am filling it with rocks I am holding shut your 'gills' (branchies) To prevent you from taking in air I suppose the meeting went quite well 'I itch' (ça me démange) Dust No matter how much regularity of cleaning or consideration for the children, a place like this is filled with dust He's dead Chesterton is with us still, though to bring him in the evening chill would be imprudent We'll bring him tomorrow When this room is less cold After the children have gone and before you bring him, I will give the place a good dust Then the carpentry will begin You've engaged the carpenters? Yes.
He is close to the end, isn't he? Yes, Bellegarde! For Christ's sake! Haunted 'Drafts' (courants d'air) from all over From the walls, from the side, 'swooping down from the ceiling' (descendant en piqué du plafond) I will dust anyway for Chesterton, even though after, the carpenters come Uh, the attitude on people leaving definitely stepped forward from the attitude they wore coming in I mean, no one's trying to 'quarrel' (se quereller) about that Then what's your quarrel? I'm asking what was decided They're publishing the letter as witness Witness? A witness in the sense that Witness the letter its content Yeah, the letter's contents is witness that Bullock wrote a nice fucking letter And it proves that that's the sort we are here, the caring sort that would write a letter 'of that ilk' (de cet acabit) Furthermore, we don't give a fuck who knows it, George fucking Hearst included Fucking Hearst especially Is the witness? Better late than fucking never, Johnny Hey! Little Miss fucking cinnamon I wanna be good I wanna be good Good evening Good evening For being gone, I I notice I'm frequently back I come to kiss her good night I tried to persuade her you'd done so last night My beard always wakes her She said so, refuting me The thing I did that made you leave last night, the thing I was coming home to do again I pray now 'to forego forever' (y renoncer à jamais) Not having me in this house is gonna improve your 'odds' (chances) I started using spirits at 17, Ellsworth, with no premonition we'd marry Well, my feeling's that being vessel of purposes not your own, your eye was out for relief But glimpsing since how being your own vessel is preferable, let the pressure come off and you're liable to do all right You are no pressure My friendly hands'll always be out to both of you May I interrupt her sleep with this beard? She'd be so glad if you did Yes Cheyenne and Black Hills Telegraph Yes, all right Evening Telegram for Mr.
Hearst Ah, thank you I wonder if you might remain just a moment while I read it, on the chance I'll want to answer Of course "Additional 'shipment' (cargaison) of bricks.
" Yes, Sir Yeah, this is fine This is fine There'll be no answer This is $20, Sir It's all right, son Thanks for doing your job well You're most welcome John Langrishe, Al Come one, Jack Early finish below? We'd a meetin' I ought to have asked you too What topic commended my presence? 'Reprobates' (mécréants)? The elderly? Fuckin' Hearst that took an axe to my left middle digit, sends for 25 more thugs to take the tool to the whole fucking camp Why am I fucking optimistic? Did your meeting find a strategy in counterpoise? We heard the fucking reading of a letter Ahh Writ by Bullock, to a miner's family after Hearst had had him murdered Exhorting they charge Hearst with the crime? Never once mentioning Hearst Expressing sympathy to the family, respect for the way the man lived We decided Merrick would publish in the paper Strategy some may call ingenuous, others merely off the point I sit mystified I was moved to 'endorse' (approuver) it Mystified, Al, at proclaiming a law beyond law to a man who's beyond law himself? It's publication invoking a decency whose 'scrutiny' (examen) applies to him as to all his fellows I call that strategy 'cunningly' (astucieusement) sophisticated, 'befitting' (qui sied / seyante) and 'becoming the man' (convenable/bienséante, pr l'homme) who sits before me Open the place back up! Tell the whores if their legs ain't in the air, they'd better be off their asses! So what progress in your affairs? Our opening is delayed And old man is dying one of my actors.
And I'm sad Oh perhaps just the one In? 'Folded up' (se pliait) on the 'boardwalk' (promenade) beside me like a Goddamn accordion So you've remarked I believe I'll take my leave You're 'wheezing bad' (respirer avec peine) as me, Doc.
Did you get cinnamon too? 'Lest' (de peur, que/de) I distract from the business at hand by requesting a fucking drink! Have you adverse reactions to other food or condiments, Harry? 'Eggplant' (aubergine) 'shreds the roof of my mouth' (mets en lambeau mon palais) if it's any of your fucking business Irratability at the 'bowel' (intestin), we know you suffer from You're all right Don't eat cinnamon anymore Or eggplant? Not if it shreds your mouth Hope you don't mind my 'absconding' (fuite/disparition) with you from your cabin, Doc No Campaigning any threat to Harry's health? How was the meeting? Oh, it was all right Um, needless to say, we missed you I am so glad your mother isn't alive to see you in this condition Doc, get up here Not tonight Tonight.
Now Leave your kit I'll have Johnny go get it I'm not gonna leave my fucking kit I wonder what you think you're fucking doing I'm laying down before I leave in the morning I will ask the questions here! This is my place Do you think it's yours? It is not It is mine, bought and paid for And if I wanted to shit this instant in the middle of this stable, no man, black or white, could gainsay me! You've already fucked a horse Nor will I 'stoop' (m'abaisser) to explaining the mistake in that statement, to a nigger lemur or some other small form of monkey Where are you going in the morning? West San Francisco I'm hoping that chestnut's owner might go with me The demon nigger that appeared at the bar The very same I don't suppose knowing I'd be vigilant against theft and intolerant to tardiness you'd be inclined to stay on and work here No Nor would I want to fucking have you! And do not come and try to murder me as I sleep! And I will not come and try to murder you Black fucking bastard What did you want? Fucking sick, I'm told I have a chest cold You're a 'lunger' (tuberculeux pulmonaire) Fucking samples, Doc Notions from that tailor as to how we cover my stump I've believed for the last dozen years that disease is airborne, and I won't make others sick No one gets out alive, Doc Jesus Christ! The fucking 'gimp' (boîteuse) finds something useful to do in the fucking 'brace' (attelle) you made her! Do you think you could treat being Johnny always struggling to fashion a thought?! Every fucking night I, that could cut a throat but sleep the sleep of the just, spend six fucking wakings trying to find a piss pot with my dribble, and wondering when I got to be so old Pick a fucking 'swatch' (échantillon) for a 'spit rag' (torchon à crachats), use the others for masks, and go about your fucking business! I ain't learning a new Doc's 'quirks' (manies) !
Sit down "Third Baptist Congregation, Monrovia Settlement" The congregation has title to the find And how are you connected to the congregation? Odell : I'm First 'Deacon' (diacre : juste en dessous du prêtre dans la hiérarchie de l'église) , Sir Hearst : I see Congratulations Being you were known to me through my mama's letters, Odell : when the proposals started to come to us-- Hearst : Proposals? The different English proposals From Great Britain, you mean? To develop the find, yes, Sir I was sent to ask if you'd guide us Does your congregation conceive some sort of a partnership, Odell? However you thought we should do I do take in partners with the understanding that in dealing with the color, mine is the deciding voice Dealing with the color, Sir? The gold securing and exploiting the gold Do you want to see the gold now, Sir? Do you want to show it to me? They give it to me to show you, Sir Suppose we oughtn't let the congregation down I can't imagine your mother's not nearly prepared our supper What do you think of the gold? It makes me hungry, Odell Harry should be at the meeting I ain't saying he shouldn't I wasn't told to invite him Candidate for public office Please 'convey' (transmets) to Al that short of being forbidden, I intend to bring Harry with me I'll convey that word for word And what would be my position? Oughtn't I attend as the livery's new owner? Hostetler never attended Prior to blowing off his fucking head, Hostetler was a nigger Last I looked I'm white! True, as, uh, far as it goes I can abstain from attending if that closes the can of peas Oh, uh uh, you are a candidate for public office with a chance to put the fire wagon on the table If it's a question of room, shove two fucking tables together! Room is not the issue, Steve, if you have to see my down card I do not 'vouch for you' (me porter garant pour toi), nor presume to bring you uninvited, as I do Harry, because you are not the same quality person Meaning I'm not fanatic for fucking fire wagons like Harry and all the other five-year-olds Anyways I've still got the doc to invite Is this the quickest way to the cabin here Tell Al add and extra peach dish Can you certify the purity of your blood, Steve? I only ask because your nose is 'broad' (large) Take your 'apron' (tablier) off, and consider changing your shirt, which I fucking suggested yesterday Will you mind very much if we have our dinner quickly? Camp business, Dear? Come to cases.
I will get sent to hire guns quick time, bouncing in the fucking 'saddle' (selle) and 'howling' (beuglant) at every Goddamn 'hoof-fall' (coup de sabot?), I put out 'cinnamon' (canelle) Where? The meeting table On whose instruction? Cinnamon's good with peaches Do not put unauthorized cinnamon on the Goddamn meetin' table That's all the fuck we need It's available as a choice Which is not your province to offer, Jewel Well, if food's not my province, then you can make your own fucking breakfast I had best not come out of this Goddamn kitchen and find Goddamn cinnamon on the fucking meeting table! 'Leg up' (en filant) to Cheyenne by now, I'd be heading there in a civilized fucking 'gait' (démarche) Doc! Johnny Burns, Doc! You remember you, you come to that that meeting before to set the pest tent up and the like? And E.
B.
was made Mayor? Hey, Doc You can't talk? Anyway, Al's got another one of them meetings You can't come? Jesus, Doc All right, all right I'll tell him you can't come Anyway, look, I hope--I hope you feel better My best efforts, Odell, do not yet persuade your mother to be indifferent to the opinions of others If it's all right with you, Mr.
Hearst, it's all all right with me This looks wonderful, Mama Thank you I suppose you've told your mama about being First Deacon of your congregation in Liberia I haven't yet had the chance to give her the news Does your congregation have no 'strictures' (limitations / désapprobations), Odell, against its Deacon drinking? It does, yes, Sir Yet the smell of liquor's on your breath Do I mistake? No, Sir, Mr.
Hearst, you don't Did you have one drink of liquor, Odell, from nervousness about our talk? I admit I did, Sir, yes Did you drink on the ship from Liberia? No, Sir Or coming overland from New York? No, Sir, Mr.
Hearst Would the liquor I smell then be the first you've ever consumed? I've had some before, Sir Prior to becoming Deacon of the Third Baptist of Monrovia or after? I guess a little of both Showing gold thousands of miles from its 'purported' (prétendue) source to authenticate a find, I would associate less with our savior's (sauveur) qualities of character, than Adam's, or someone pretending to his innocence Before he met the serpent Hmm The combative note in that pleases me, Odell, as against what till now has seemed 'haphazard' (désordonné) and 'sloven' (négligé) and 'slipshod' (négligent) in your approach to 'fleecing' (voler / escroquer) me My mistake was thinking that you'd want your niggers praising Jesus What the hell are we talking about this for? Did the assay make sense or not? Ten dollars'll buy a report that proves a find of pure ore in your ass, Odell I guess that's why I didn't figure till you'd had someone over there, we'd be drawing up any papers Figured this'd be a getting-to-know-each-other conversation, seeing if we'd want to go any further Far as I'm concerned, we don't Calm down Now just calm down, son If I have mistook you in some regard, you'll find I'm man enough to apologize Now, just sit down, we'll finish our meal, and then maybe afterwards we'll take in the camp and, if you have any vices beyond your drinking, I might even offer you a cigar How's he doing? 'Holding his fucking own' (il tient bon / il se débrouille) Then I asked, "What good am I to myself or the camp standing sentinel over a coffee pot?" Was why I cam home I wish you wouldn't smoke in here I wish, when asleep, you wouldn't snore and fucking 'fart' (péter) I have no choice about either of those If I extinguish this fucking cigarette, it'll be in the middle of your fucking forehead Ah I'm glad she fucking fired me I hate that fucking bank It's the context, I think, that disturbs you, that she's back to using dope Yes yes! That she's back on the dope disturbs me And why, even as we speak, your own life 'hangs by a fucking thread' (ne tient qu'à un putain de fil) What's to become of that child? Johnny Burns, Mr.
Star! What is it? Well, Al's called a meeting like the ones you've come to before Does Sheriff Bullock know? Well, seemed to me they halfway called it together All right, I'm coming Uh, if you ain't get dessert yet, don't All right Al's broke out the canned peaches All right The Bullock's could take her Or we could You'd have us care for a child? Now more than previously, Sofia, Mr.
Ellsworth will spend time at the diggings Did he not come home last night? I'm not sure, Darling Possibly he did not And maybe that's why you didn't waken I didn't feel his beard Possibly that's why But he will be seeing you And everything will be all right I gave him a 'foolproof' (infaillible) fucking approach to 'wind up' (en finir) with that woman's claim, and I could have been shit drawing flies Hearst is that fucking focused on Bullock pulling his ear Yeah All collected but Doc Where the fuck is he? He ain't up to it, he says Uh, cinnamon's out for the peaches Huh? That wasn't my fucking doing Giving Hearst, Bullock is the only move that don't end with the camp in flames And that one only gets us up to 50-50 It sounds as if Cochran's turned face to the wall His fucking lungs There's quite a falling off among the other 'sawbones' (chirurgien ?) in camp We might put notice in the eastern papers Once we've ceased our 'weeping' (pleurnichage) Had he known our 'might' (force) and 'guile' (ruse), Hearst would have never left the Comstock Earnie, you got credit for a free tug (branlette?) tomorrow.
Let's go I'll spank it myself Just watch me You'll spank it in front of a Goddamn mule team Sirs, if I might explain In my vision, I 'leapt' (saute/bondis) from the coach and straight come to see him Al's got a meeting tonight, Gustave You can tell him your vision tomorrow Mr.
Swearengen! It's just as I imagined! I have something so important to give to you What? You mustn't ask me what And you mustn't ask me why You must go fuck yourself And don't speak disgusting to me or answer for Mr.
Swearengen what is a very important answer Let me know when Bullock arrives Ah Oh, Tom Nuttall's coming and he's bringing Harry Manning Bullock! Guess if you've got a pussy, even owning a bank don't get you to that table Jesus Christ, easy easy easy easy There'll be conversations left and right Don't get too far up there on the fucking 'wrist' (poignet) Do you want to use the sponge? That's not the fucking point You just not be starting length and breadth conversations throughout the fucking camp or territory or so on Or do I suppose now I take off my fucking undershirt or the like and show my tits 'and so forth' (et ainsi de suite) !? I'll leave you to wash that part Who the fuck am I fucking kidding or putting on airs in front of? I been disrobed in front of every 'barnyard' (basse-cour) creature that 'hunts' (chasse) or 'pecks' (picore) or rolls in the fucking 'mud' (boue) Who the fuck should I have shyness before or pride or the like, for Christ's sake? What difference does it make? What the fuck do I have to be ashamed of at this late fucking date? Who cares anyway?! Now go ahead and sponge my fucking tits and get it over with if that's what you fucking do It's nothing like that, Jane Well, what's it like then I never had a sister I had two And I slept with both of 'em I don't know why God let me or if he forgives me when I pray, but but I'd never hurt you, Jane, or touch you if you didn't want I believe that But I don't want to open my eyes But you can go ahead and kiss me if that's what you fucking do What possesses me to buy all of these swatches? Even though I have no reason why I should! Because who back at that camp would wear suits of such colors? But I have learned sometimes if you have a thing, the reason for the thing is that you have it! And when I am in New York City, I have a letter from a friend In the news from the camp, he says, And Mr.
Swearengen has lost the top part of his middle finger to an accident some kind" And I say, "I will take these swatches to Mr.
Swearengen," And, "I like the look of his vest when he is out in the morning, out on the balcony, drinking his coffee, and he is very much a handsome man at those times, and maybe he would like one for his 'stump' (moignon) Or maybe more a different swatch for every day, why not?" Give me your stump Don't think about it.
Just give it to me Now this corner of the swatch we pretend is the lost child The little boy goes up the mountain, around the bend, always looking for mama And where does he finally find her? Where? Here she is! Here's mama! Wrapping herself around you tight tight tight Mama's got you little Al Everything's all right! I like that color very very much Do you? Please God, come in Bullock Thank you, Gustave Please leave Before the color, no white man no man of any 'hue' (teinte) moved to civilize or improve a place like this had reason to make the effort The color brought commerce here, and such order as has been attained Yes, sir Do you want to help Liberia, Odell? I want to help myself If Liberia is where my chance is, it's all right with me Gold is your chance Thank you, Sir Gold is every man's opportunity Why do I make that argument? Because every defect in a man and in others' way of taking him, our agreement that gold has value gives us power to rise above Fond as you are of my mother, without that gold I showed you, I don't expect we'd be out here talking That is correct And, for your effrontery at our meal a moment ago I'd have seen you shot or hanged without second thought The value I gave the gold restrained me, you see your utility in connection to it And because of my gold, those at the other tables deferred to my restraint Gold confers power Power comes to any man who has the color Even if he's black? That is our species' hope: That uniformly agreeing on its value, we organize to seek the color Just before you and I met, Odell, the camp's Sheriff released me from a jail cell That's hard for me to feature I hate these places, Odell, because the truth that I know, the promise that I bring, the necessities I'm prepared to accept make me 'outcast' (paria) Isn't that foolish? Isn't that foolishness? And old man disabused long ago of certain 'yearnings' (désirs) and hopes as to how he would be held by his fellows, and yet I 'weep' (pleure) Anyway, Sir, you want to send someone back with me? Yes, I do Yes, I do, son I want to send you to help your people and take this place down like Gomorrah All being affected, we might consider some facts as a group I arrested Hearst, acting in the name of the camp Without the camp's previous fucking say-so Do you propose that? Getting a say-so before I do my duty? Might be a good open showing Hearst it's off of him Bullock's tin won't 'placate' (apaiser) Hearst Give it the fuck back to him Add to your statement or shut the fuck up I'm done Shall I, as Mayor initiate proceedings by giving my own opinions, however titular and insubstantial and merely honorific the position? Which argues against my doing so How is Hearst likely to answer? Ought steps to be taken in preemption? My instinct's to act alone, 'chart the course' (tracer le cours) for fucking carnage That this would be general among 'em whose parents were so dim as to bring them the fucking innocents is what give me fucking pause I invite the suggestions of others against my instinct to send for the guns As I've expressed to the Sheriff and Mr.
Star, and siding with your instincts, to protect the innocents, I'd send them from the camp Then fall on Hearst and his in their lair before they fall on us in ours As Wild Bill would have done This is a letter Who's the fucking letter to? What the fuck is going on? Last of those Cornishmen murdered Pasco His family Read the letter "It becomes my painful duty to inform you that Pasco Carwen was killed Dan : Stop poking your head out Merrick : earlier this week Jewel : I'm seeing who's using the cinnamon, and Harry Manning is using it plenty Merrick : His body was found in the road a short time after .
" It was not mutilated in any way His death seems to have been instantaneous as he was stabbed through the heart Pasco's funeral occurred today and was attended by coworkers and friends who all shared the same high opinion of him Everything was done by kind hands that was possible under the circumstances, and a Christian burial was given him I was not personally acquainted with Mr.
Carwen, 'save' (sauf) for one 'encounter' (rencontre) where he demonstrated grief and deep compassion at the passing of a friend I knew him by reputation as an 'earnest' (sérieux) worker and a diligent believer in right and wrong His memory I am sure will always be with those who knew and loved him, among whose number I imagine you as first A letter from you which I found in his tent causes me to convey this sad intelligence to you Sincerely yours, Seth Bullock" What shall I do with this, Mr.
Bullock? What's your fucking paper for? You fucking publish as witness, for Hearst and others to read That's a very nice fucking letter Mr.
Blazanov, had you much traffic tonight on your apparatus? Some traffic, yes I hope your important meeting had a good result As free men facing important challenges, we choose to be optimistic Sir, I ask you to take me to Mr.
Swearengen's place Well, I I will, of course, Mr.
Blazanov, though no activity you may contemplate, for example, the making of friends with is female employees, requires Mr.
Swearengen's personal approval I wish to see him for another purpose All right Shall we go now? Certainly Come on Lovely letter, wasn't it? Didn't you come back sick from one of them meetings? Last year, from the peaches Which is why I refrained this time around Far as the fire wagon, I hater you felt as I did, the moment was wrong to broach it My my throat is all fucking tight Where did you lay your hands on liquor, Harry? Harry? Help! Harry? Harry! Help! Oh.
Look, Jack White lumps on my tongue Reel it in, for God's sake I'm so sorry It's close, Jack It's very close I feel it's icy breath I hear it whispering in my ear "Forget your name We go to black" The downstairs buffet is quite passable As like to kill you as take passage with you to Liberia, his man you meeting in New York If Mr.
Hearst wanted me killed, Mama, he could see it done here Don't you ever believe you know what'd please that man, or salt him to come after you And you look a fool holding that cigar! I've played on for smaller 'stakes' (enjeux) And the gold ain't playing I ain't trying to steal nothing I'll work my way up the hog And ain't you sent me out there so I can turn out a man? I sent you so the hell that was coming here for niggers wouldn't burn you up There's plenty of fire in Liberia I can't undo what I done, Odell, any more than you can, searching out hurt I ain't searching no hurt out We all get our portion We don't need to draw it to us You hear me, Mama? I ain't searching no Goddamn hurt out I don't told you to mind who you talking to All right, Mama No bad language If you'd kept me to raise me, maybe I'd know He got $742 for you, the little nigger at the livery And this brooch here too, you can take I can't find it I can't find it Lord Jesus, forgive me! When I read you had stayed in the Comstock, I tried to come here quick, be gone before he sent for you to come I ain't come here to hurt you I never said you come to do me hurt So's you wouldn't have to see me I prayed to see you every day you was gone My God, Odell, what's wrong with you? No joy to seeing my boy! I'm sorry, son Hush, Mama.
Hush Hush Oh, do what you think you got to I couldn't find the right Hush now, Mama.
Hush I got you now "Bricks.
" You see there? Yes, I see "Bricks Stop Addition to initial order.
Stop First means of delivery.
Stop And, Blazanov? Do you believe, Mr.
Swearengen, Mr.
Hearst orders more bricks? No What do you believe? I believe he orders more humans Reinforcements To do harm! As we saw on our walk Leave to die in a country strange to them, men apart from their families, working to give them support Fuck confidentiality of communications Why not fuck a woman instead? I hope so eventually Now I deliver under seal his message to Mr.
Hearst I'll dispose of this, Blazanov How are you occupying yourself, Richardson? I'm praying the meeting went well Very touching Now clear your mind of the meeting and account for the negro with Hearst They're both in her room Despite your best efforts, Richardson, an answer of some ambiguity Is she with them? One One what? Of them Is with her Who? Aunt Lou Who is with Aunt Lou? Her son And where is Hearst? His room Then I will retire to mine Well, how was the meeting? I imagine the pool that spawned you I am filling it with rocks I am holding shut your 'gills' (branchies) To prevent you from taking in air I suppose the meeting went quite well 'I itch' (ça me démange) Dust No matter how much regularity of cleaning or consideration for the children, a place like this is filled with dust He's dead Chesterton is with us still, though to bring him in the evening chill would be imprudent We'll bring him tomorrow When this room is less cold After the children have gone and before you bring him, I will give the place a good dust Then the carpentry will begin You've engaged the carpenters? Yes.
He is close to the end, isn't he? Yes, Bellegarde! For Christ's sake! Haunted 'Drafts' (courants d'air) from all over From the walls, from the side, 'swooping down from the ceiling' (descendant en piqué du plafond) I will dust anyway for Chesterton, even though after, the carpenters come Uh, the attitude on people leaving definitely stepped forward from the attitude they wore coming in I mean, no one's trying to 'quarrel' (se quereller) about that Then what's your quarrel? I'm asking what was decided They're publishing the letter as witness Witness? A witness in the sense that Witness the letter its content Yeah, the letter's contents is witness that Bullock wrote a nice fucking letter And it proves that that's the sort we are here, the caring sort that would write a letter 'of that ilk' (de cet acabit) Furthermore, we don't give a fuck who knows it, George fucking Hearst included Fucking Hearst especially Is the witness? Better late than fucking never, Johnny Hey! Little Miss fucking cinnamon I wanna be good I wanna be good Good evening Good evening For being gone, I I notice I'm frequently back I come to kiss her good night I tried to persuade her you'd done so last night My beard always wakes her She said so, refuting me The thing I did that made you leave last night, the thing I was coming home to do again I pray now 'to forego forever' (y renoncer à jamais) Not having me in this house is gonna improve your 'odds' (chances) I started using spirits at 17, Ellsworth, with no premonition we'd marry Well, my feeling's that being vessel of purposes not your own, your eye was out for relief But glimpsing since how being your own vessel is preferable, let the pressure come off and you're liable to do all right You are no pressure My friendly hands'll always be out to both of you May I interrupt her sleep with this beard? She'd be so glad if you did Yes Cheyenne and Black Hills Telegraph Yes, all right Evening Telegram for Mr.
Hearst Ah, thank you I wonder if you might remain just a moment while I read it, on the chance I'll want to answer Of course "Additional 'shipment' (cargaison) of bricks.
" Yes, Sir Yeah, this is fine This is fine There'll be no answer This is $20, Sir It's all right, son Thanks for doing your job well You're most welcome John Langrishe, Al Come one, Jack Early finish below? We'd a meetin' I ought to have asked you too What topic commended my presence? 'Reprobates' (mécréants)? The elderly? Fuckin' Hearst that took an axe to my left middle digit, sends for 25 more thugs to take the tool to the whole fucking camp Why am I fucking optimistic? Did your meeting find a strategy in counterpoise? We heard the fucking reading of a letter Ahh Writ by Bullock, to a miner's family after Hearst had had him murdered Exhorting they charge Hearst with the crime? Never once mentioning Hearst Expressing sympathy to the family, respect for the way the man lived We decided Merrick would publish in the paper Strategy some may call ingenuous, others merely off the point I sit mystified I was moved to 'endorse' (approuver) it Mystified, Al, at proclaiming a law beyond law to a man who's beyond law himself? It's publication invoking a decency whose 'scrutiny' (examen) applies to him as to all his fellows I call that strategy 'cunningly' (astucieusement) sophisticated, 'befitting' (qui sied / seyante) and 'becoming the man' (convenable/bienséante, pr l'homme) who sits before me Open the place back up! Tell the whores if their legs ain't in the air, they'd better be off their asses! So what progress in your affairs? Our opening is delayed And old man is dying one of my actors.
And I'm sad Oh perhaps just the one In? 'Folded up' (se pliait) on the 'boardwalk' (promenade) beside me like a Goddamn accordion So you've remarked I believe I'll take my leave You're 'wheezing bad' (respirer avec peine) as me, Doc.
Did you get cinnamon too? 'Lest' (de peur, que/de) I distract from the business at hand by requesting a fucking drink! Have you adverse reactions to other food or condiments, Harry? 'Eggplant' (aubergine) 'shreds the roof of my mouth' (mets en lambeau mon palais) if it's any of your fucking business Irratability at the 'bowel' (intestin), we know you suffer from You're all right Don't eat cinnamon anymore Or eggplant? Not if it shreds your mouth Hope you don't mind my 'absconding' (fuite/disparition) with you from your cabin, Doc No Campaigning any threat to Harry's health? How was the meeting? Oh, it was all right Um, needless to say, we missed you I am so glad your mother isn't alive to see you in this condition Doc, get up here Not tonight Tonight.
Now Leave your kit I'll have Johnny go get it I'm not gonna leave my fucking kit I wonder what you think you're fucking doing I'm laying down before I leave in the morning I will ask the questions here! This is my place Do you think it's yours? It is not It is mine, bought and paid for And if I wanted to shit this instant in the middle of this stable, no man, black or white, could gainsay me! You've already fucked a horse Nor will I 'stoop' (m'abaisser) to explaining the mistake in that statement, to a nigger lemur or some other small form of monkey Where are you going in the morning? West San Francisco I'm hoping that chestnut's owner might go with me The demon nigger that appeared at the bar The very same I don't suppose knowing I'd be vigilant against theft and intolerant to tardiness you'd be inclined to stay on and work here No Nor would I want to fucking have you! And do not come and try to murder me as I sleep! And I will not come and try to murder you Black fucking bastard What did you want? Fucking sick, I'm told I have a chest cold You're a 'lunger' (tuberculeux pulmonaire) Fucking samples, Doc Notions from that tailor as to how we cover my stump I've believed for the last dozen years that disease is airborne, and I won't make others sick No one gets out alive, Doc Jesus Christ! The fucking 'gimp' (boîteuse) finds something useful to do in the fucking 'brace' (attelle) you made her! Do you think you could treat being Johnny always struggling to fashion a thought?! Every fucking night I, that could cut a throat but sleep the sleep of the just, spend six fucking wakings trying to find a piss pot with my dribble, and wondering when I got to be so old Pick a fucking 'swatch' (échantillon) for a 'spit rag' (torchon à crachats), use the others for masks, and go about your fucking business! I ain't learning a new Doc's 'quirks' (manies) !