All language subtitles for Deadwood.The.Movie.2019.1080p.BluRay.x264-[YTS.LT]

Ten years gone,
'proaching that selfsame hill

I thought to lay me down
and rise no more.

Oof!

Give me wide berth!
That's just passed wind!

Possibly worse.

Before eyes close for good and all,

I'd once again see my Joanie Stubbs,

show her a sign of

loving regret

from Calamity Jane to her darling.

And to it, the grave of Wild Bill.

Ooh!

I've a left-cheek ass blister's
a percolating son of a bitch.

Good, right there.

Morning, boss!

Get me the gimp.

Jewel! What?

Get up here.

Have something on the stove, al!

Once you finish burning it, then?

Ho, ho, ho!

- Morning, Doc.
- Morning, Al.

At Liberty, are you just now?

Why, you wanna dance?

What'd that be about?

Fashioning into telephone poles.

Ain't we got enough of
them damn things already?

Plan's to put lines in every business.
Catch up with the times!

Out of sorts,
would you say, commander?

Half a stride short of fully fit.

Light, somewhat, a few pounds.

And some bit pallid, too.

Jesus, just shoot me, Doc.

Name the day of the week, Al.

The fuck difference does the day make?

I'd have you but say the name.

Tuesday then, you half a
scarecrow-looking cocksucker.

- Friday, it is.
- Oh.

Mistaking Friday for Tuesday.
Well, secure my burial plot.

Well, your temperature's
two degrees above normal,

features drawn,
flesh of a yellowish cast.

Pending fucking developments...

I'd have you forbear from spirits.

- Under advisement.
- Oh, no, no, no.

Don't you humor me,
nor talk down to me, neither,

nor fix to mix in
where you ain't been invited.

Whilst you comport
the very like to me?

You went somewhat wrong at your liver,
Al, is what you've goddamn done!

Bar you being out-and-out blind,

you already know he's ill.

Minute past,

words to Dan, "boss is looking poorly."

"Out of sorts."

Don't he look outta sorts,
you goddamn donkey?

He is to forbear
from spirits of any kind,

until he's assayed and diagnosed.

You know he'll just endeavor
to import spirits in off the street?

Well, you're not to allow it!

That's easier told
than saddled and rode.

Then, go ahead and hang him,
god damn it!

Blow his fucking head off!

Save us all some time!

Wrong side of the damn bed!

Ms. Ellsworth ! Charlie Utter.

Oh, my.

What a grand surprise
after such a piece of time.

For me, Mr. Utter, as well.

Sofia come on!

Am I past my place, Ms. Ellsworth ,

asking if it's banking
brings you back these parts?

Banking, yes.

But my interest in the Deadwood Bank,
which is an expanding institution...

Few years back, Ms. Ellsworth ,
bad manners like that

woulda led to a lesson in courtesy!

Continuing grateful
for hard-won maturity.

Sofia, a gentleman wishes
to renew acquaintance, miss.

Charlie Utter saying hello
to Ms. Sofia.

The 10 years went past like
somebody snapped their fingers.

Hello back, Mr. Utter.

- It's lovely to see you again.
- Thank you.

Hey, I'd be happy to convey you all
into Deadwood camp in my wagon.

As we would be for the transport,

and your good company.

Come on.

I hope we're in time
for the Statehood celebration.

Hey, sweetheart.
Help you with that luggage.

Very kind, I'm okay.

Well, I assume
you'll be staying in town, darling.

Pardon me.

There a price we can offer
for that information?

You have me wrong.

- There you are!
- Hello there.

Looking for a ride. I can pay.

South Dakota marrying
the United States.

See, they're
paying attention, Seth.

Morning, Miss.

Morning, Papa.

Bullock clan ready
for the Statehood festivities.

Are you ready, husband,

considering the visiting delegates
include the Senator from California?

To celebrate, yes, I am.

I'm tempted to believe you.

Statehood pancakes coming out!

Clear the way!

All right, all right, little man.

Single-minded, this boy,
like his old man.

A virtue in your estimation.

Lord, bless these gifts
we ready to receive,

and Grant us grace
to meet level-headed

what challenges may come this day,

no matter the provocation by lesser

or evil men.

Amen.

Amen. Amen.

On this day
of our Statehood celebration...

Man: Hear, hear!

We honor a man,
who with unexampled generosity

has given himself
to our Deadwood community.

Though no longer residing amongst us,

he calls California now his home.

The man bases his considerable
mining and real estate interest

here in Deadwood, South Dakota.

I ask you please, to greet
with me now, the honorable

junior Senator from
the great State of California,

George Ambrose Hearst !

- Good morning to all!
- Man: Morning, Senator !

And great thanks to Mayor Farnum
for his generous words of welcome.

It moves me greatly,

returning after years have passed
to witness

the changes wrought by time,

ingenuity, and invention.

Though none would deny the facts
and the cost of a past,

we who gather have known together...

Some portion of which must still
be measured in blood.

Yet, the Deadwood community
does enter its adulthood...

And don't our spirits raise,

you murdering, conniving,
thieving cocksucker.

Resourceful and resolute,

a vital part of the new-made
State of south Dakota,

and this State,

a vital part of our fine country.

Amen to that!

Thank you, Senator !

Hotel's but two rooms short
of fully-occupied, Trixie,

with the parade yet
still in full swing.

Congratulations then, Mr. Starr,
to you and Marshal Bullock.

Maybe Mark the moment
braining me with a fucking brick!

I'd sooner put a ring on your finger.

Once first we've seen
does the baby survive.

That being, in your scripture,
matrimony's single reason and purpose.

Ain't we already awash in the miracle

of a whore of my vintage
being pregnant at all?

Why not wear a sign, then?

Dress in red, head to toe?

Please, Trixie.
You oughtn't show your face outside.

Lemonade's on its way
with chips of ice, how you like.

Rest now.

I just got the fuck up.

Rest.

Senator !
Senator !

Murdering motherless cocksucker.

Oh, Senator Hearst! Your honor!

Yoo-hoo!

On this 10th anniversary
of them being butchered,

I convey to you, Senator ,
memorial greetings

from the miner Ellsworth and prostitute Jen,

- but two of the who knows how many...
- Hold it!

You've done for
while making your moneyed progress!

Have I missed word of your appointment
to some position of authority?

Have I missed word of yours,
you bald-pated cunt?

Better watch yourself, Senator !

Mr. Hearst ?

For ain't it so, Sir .

It's the thieving and throat-cutting,

them's bloodied and dead in the mud,

it still stiffens the member
in your long Johns!

Why not press forward,
for Christ's sake?

Set herself a flame?

Nor, ought I fail to remark

the semblance from this vantage twixt

your very mug and a snatch
has gone haired over sideways.

Mayor Farnum! It's a...

Trixie hasn't lost her gift.

She ain't for a fact.

Time can't touch that.

Slimy cocksucker slither his way
into our camp's inner workings!

And aren't you the vile bodying

of a gutter-mouth
trollop and tramp! Go.

- As you are of a murdering shit-heel!
- Now.

Trixie!

What's left still to do, Trixie?

Pitch yourself down the stairs?

End any chance of our
child's well-being?

Jesus wept! “What is it?

Something amiss
that you fucking foresaw.

Ready for the Doc, we are?

- Off you go then, to fetch him.
- Okay.

I'll be good.

Marshal!

Mr. Utter!

- Hello.
- Hello, girls.

- Greetings from uncle Charlie.
- Uncle Charlie!

It's lovely to see you both again.

Mrs. Bullock,

I remember
your reading lessons so well.

Ms. Ellsworth here
and her daughter, they need a room.

I told them the best hotel
in town's right there.

Perhaps installing
Mrs. Ellsworth in a suite

would be the considerate thing
for the hotel's owner to do?

Yes, it would.

Mrs. Ellsworth,
was there a room available?

It seems we've secured
the very last one.

Must be my lucky day.

I'll walk you upstairs.

You, having so lived
in recollection, Marshal,

it is my considerable happiness
to see you again.

No less a happiness, Mrs. Ellsworth,
than is seeing you for me.

As a dream might come alive
to draw a breath.

Said overmuch.

Vowed I wouldn't,
but I absolutely knew I would.

Why didn't you write of your arrival?

Not sure.

I see.

I wonder, Mr. Bullock,
if all unwitting,

I may have done something
to upset an applecart.

Not at all.

It's a pleasure to see you both again.

What?

Nothing, mama.

Bullock! Hey, Marshal!

Just the man I was looking for.

Coulda warned me of
Mrs. Ellsworth's return, Charlie.

How the fuck
when I was surprised myself?

Very least not deposit her
in my goddamn hotel!

Hey, if you're finished
rapping my knuckles,

I got some more
manly matters to discuss.

I'm all ears, Charlie.

Hearst wants to buy my land.

Dangling big paydays
through third parties.

He's coming today hisself.

- Are you disposed?
- My age,

I'd be a fool not to chew on it some.

Which evidently,
a Bullock that looks away,

scowling like he is, don't approve of.

Utter's pal Bullock
figures if Utter sold off his land,

nothing for Utter to do
but sit wondering in that old saloon,

why in hell he'd sold the thing

he'd spent his life
getting situated to buy

and keep, to work it himself?

Hearst doesn't deserve
your land, Charlie.

Nor ought I either fall
to bring to mind

the bastard's disposition
to foul play.

Before negotiations commence,

would I be outta place
calling on Hearst myself?

I wonder, too, might you
procure me an infant's linen?

And you don't make a friend
a stranger, Charlie,

declining walking beside you.

Saying first, my being grateful

and heartily appreciative,

I'd hold with your friend
best achieving

his purposes toting his water hisself.

Join us for dinner tonight.

You amaze my boy
pulling coins from your ears.

Better trick would be me pulling
Hears's hundreds out my ass.

Expect you seven o’clock, uncle Charlie.

Thanks, Bullock, for the lookout.

Good morning, miss newly-arrived!

Might you be
the establishment's operator?

Named Al.

Swearengen's the remainder,

if you ain't overmuch gave pause to
the various ins and outs.

My name's Caroline Woolgarden,
Mr. Swearengen, which I imagine

don't slide easy off the tongue
any more than yours does.

Caroline Woolgarden, like butter.

Come new to town in hope
of renting one of your fine rooms.

Ah!

Shit bird in prospect.

Would you excuse me, Ms. Woolgarden?

Produce George Hearst Esquire,

colossus of commerce,
junior Senator from California,

who since our paths last crossed

has went from strength
to stronger strength still.

Even as you name me,

a figure to be reckoned with
in this camp, Mr. Swearengen,

I have been made this morning,

more than somewhat,

to look an incompetent.

You, Sir?

An incompetent?
Now, how would that ever be?

These years now past, I'd have you
recall my having been attacked.

Shot, and near as not,
done in by a whore,

whose name, if I ever knew it,

has now been lost to me.

I dimly recall the matter.

The nameless whore embarked
on a program of vengeance,

and by god, she nearly brought off.

Referring to her attempt to murder me.

Not to pretty the picture.

I have lived believing
the matter had been settled.

And I was satisfied in that belief.

But now, I realize I was tricked.

The whore you presented in the box
was not the shooter at all.

You're going for the long,
larger-minded view, Senator .

Which depends on running
telephone lines across the claims,

on recognizing common ground,

bringing the future to it.

A brief illustration of my point...

Does brevity exist in
your repertoire, Sir ?

I am making an offer
on Charlie Utter's land.

Lumber for construction
arrived this morning.

Confident, are we?

Back my bid
for buying up Utter's property,

use your position in the town
to sway others,

the pregnant whore who attacked me.

Uncharacteristically
straightforward, Sir .

Discover your deepest nature,
Mr. Swearengen.

Walk with the future.

How'd that do you, Al?

Good like it seemed?

Best time to produce Trixie, so,
I can sell her on silence as virtue.

On it, boss.

Go ahead, go ahead.

Christ, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!

They're arrayed to support you,
Ms. Trixie,

but you're the one
who's got to be pushing!

Which don't I, in Christ,
look to be doing, aunt Lou?

Go ahead.

Dan Dority!

Speaking for Al
that needs words with Trixie!

Trixie ain't receiving,

hard as she's coming for home.
If you'd just tell Al,

- we'll issue word from this quarter...
- Come on, come on.

As we are fucking able!

Okay. I hear you, Doc.

One more push,
Trixie. This is it.

Now, we doing something.
And...

Now we doing it.

Okay.

See his business?

You got a boy!

A boy.

Go ahead, and slap his backside.

- There we go.
- There we go.

Oh, Trixie.

Hello, Joshua.

Lord keep you.

Ms. Calamity Jane Cannary.

Charlie Utter.

Some putting odds up
train bring you home in a box.

I come to collect Joanie Stubbs.

Oh, God.

How would you describe the Stubbs
woman's State of affairs?

Not seeing her consistent,

I say Joanie Stubbs is
collecting her portion of

gloom and dismay, just like any of us.

Well, suppose...
Suppose, Charlie...

Say, a person
had interest in that situation,

what, by your lights,

would be the right way
of broaching the subject?

I'd maybe say...

You been thinking of her,

hoping if ever she thought of you,

her thinking would be friendly, too.

Write me that down to repeat it,
you cocksucker.

You know what to say, Jane.

What to do.

I will stand you to a drink.

Down along with you, too,
far as that goes.

- One drink.
- Fuck one drink.

Go find your girl.

Go get her.

I'd have a word,

either with management,

or just some girl
ain't on her back just now,

legs straight up in the air!

If you want the boss,
Joanie's upstairs.

Oh?

Busy?

- I didn't see.
- No, we didn't see.

Jane Cannary come a-calling,
Ms. Stubbs.

I'd be grateful
if you'd hold your fire.

Everyone got plenty of room?

Seem to be making do.

Why don't me and Deenie
just get outta here, Joanie?

We don't want no trouble.

Well arrived, Jane.

- Welcome home.
- Go fuck yourself.

Hold her soap!

Considerable time since seeing you.

Wasn't me setting off to see
the country, see the world.

Weren't we sure as fuck done
with each other back then.

Not on my say-so.

Well, go on. Say what you wanna say.

Just surprised
to find you back here is all.

I'd be grateful keeping opinions
to yourself concerning

my whereabouts and purposes.

You wanna brawl, we can do it.

Brawling's unseemly, girl my age.

Charlie Utter said you been better.

Is that right? Charlie did?

High on dope,
as I suppose you'd have to be,

consorting with them miserable cunts.

New old damn shooter coming out.

Believe the game shut down
when she left the table.

These placer acres that you own,
Mr. Utter,

captured my attention.

Scouts you sent
previous made that clear.

People whose judgment I respect

assay this property's market value
at $3,500.

Seems I'm the lone holdout
for the path of progress.

By way of abbreviating
our back and forth,

and maybe generating some goodwill,

I'd go $500 above.

Offer you

$4,000 even, cash money.

My father taught his boy,

beat hell into him
might maybe be more accurate,

how if early enough on,

you credited the settlements
that was coming,

bought acres reasonable,

developed them sensible,

hung onto 'em
until the market come right,

of a day
you might could wake up and find

you made yourself
a respectable investment.

Forward thinking
was your father, then.

And now, here's his boy
to confirm his papa's prediction.

Contrariwise,

man might could

come to certain special feelings.

Partial, say, to a piece of ground.

A river,

bending through the forest like so.

I'll decline your offer, Mr. Hearst,

thanking you
for your time and attention.

My experience over time
has come to be,

customarily, I am he
who starts a negotiation.

Names its finish, too.

Maybe getting mother fucked
this morning

in the thoroughfare by a woman,
in the bargain,

has somewhat got your back up.

Not the accolade you look for
out your return to fucking camp.

Proffering that assessment, Sir,
is hardly your proper bailiwick.

Far as that, I went and proffered it
any fucking way.

Any soul on the grounds bearing mortal
likeness to a walrus,

raise up your right hand, or whistle.

You, Tom Nuttall!

Up with your right,

or purse your damn lips and blow!

Pitiful effort.

Welcome home, Jane.

'Scription to propose.

Tombstone above a casket.

"On this spot"

"was Bill Hickok" foully slayed,

"brains blown to bits..."

"By the coward Jack McCall!

"Neath this building, too,

"days to come,
"will rest the remains of.

"Jane Ardis Cannary,"

"known as 'Calamity' to strangers,"

"and to Bill Hickok"

"as a very good friend."

"At the place of his sorrowful demise,"

"may Jane's spirit
stand vigilante watch,"

"as in life she found herself unable."

And to speak straightforward, Jane,

you mortally installed

and decaying 'neath this building

don't strike me
as a magnet for commerce.

Because you're headless
for business, Tom,

and heedless and horse-faced to boot!

Well, why not empty the graveyards?

Spot corpses at the tables,

needling the gloom overall.

That's a rotten idea.

Fuck yourself, Artie.

What are you selling, Wu?

Swedgin.

You.

He has medicine for you.

Your color looks wrong.

Mengyao, you for hire?

Yes, Mr. Swedgin.

Good.

I want you to take this note

to Sol Star
to give to his lady, Trixie,

over at the Bullock Star Hotel
over the road there.

- You got that?
- How much will you pay me?

Hmm...

Payment upon return,
and job verified complete.

Now, go wait outside the door
for your Grandad.

Oh, yeah.

Swedgin. Drink. Tea.

You drink tea.

No! No!

I'll cut your chink throat for a "no,"

and pitch you off the balcony
with the other one,

seek health advice on the way down.

Fucking Wu.

Go on, get back to your fucking alley!

Fucking tea, huh?

Am I doing something wrong?

You gimme the fantods, you're so

favoring a girl who once worked here.

Is she thick through the calf like me?

She was pretty.

She had the yellowest hair.
Just the sweetest damn smile.

She had a chip, she had...

There, right there,
like to drive a fellow crazy.

Me at least, anyway.

Jen, her name was.

Did Jen move along?

She did.

Moved on.

Give you word where?

I weren't telling you true, Caroline.

She died.

Jen did.

Just poor luck...

Caught in the middle of a situation
none of her fucking doing.

Exceptional sweet
soul, minister said.

And he weren't wrong.

Appears my job's in progress
before we might even get to set down.

Early uprising
longtime trial to me.

More than an hour late is Charlie.

Maybe I pressed too hard about Hearst.

Perhaps he got involved
catching up with folks.

I should feed the children.

Going to look out for Charlie.

Evening, Marshal!

Looking for Charlie Utter, Jane.

I ain't seen him tonight.

Do something for me?
Check around town.

If you find Charlie, tell him
my wife's angry at his bad behavior.

Count on it!

Harry, with me.

My gout's agitating.

- Should I take one of the young ones?
- Yes, Sir .

- I'll fucking go with you, Bullock.
- No! No!

I'm up! I'm up.

That's Charlie's horse.

Start over there.

Careful now.

How long you standing out here?

Better part of my fucking life,
feels like.

You looking for Charlie Utter
with me, or not?

He sometimes plays cards
at this new place.

Only knowed that 'cause I teased
him never frequentin' this joint.

Lead the way, then.

Charlie?

Charlie Utter!

Charlie!

Come out, hands where I can see 'em.

Don't you shoot.

What are you doing out here, Samuel?

I'm just reaching for my fishing pole,

and I'm asking you not to kill me.

Christ. Charlie!

It weren't me, no Sir !

What the fuck you talking about?

Bullock!

Jesus God in Heaven.

Get him a blanket, Harry.

- I didn't do it, Marshal...
- Be still.

I'd appreciate Mr. Hearst knowing
I'm waiting to talk to him.

Mr. Utter!
That can't be!

Covered in blood!

Charlie Utter's dead, Mr. Hearst.

Murdered.

Do we know by whose hand, Marshal,
Mr. Utter has been taken?

Who pulled the trigger,

put the fucking money up
to get it done.

I take that, Sir, as a slur

meant to incite me.

And I do not choose to be provoked.

Your imputing foreknowledge, Sir,

to me of Mr. Utter's murder exposes me

to shameful slander and disesteem.

I will have you recant.

Or either ready to receive

behavior from me in rebuke.

What form then do you figure
your rebuke will take,

murdering cunt that you are?

- Bullock...
- I'll get to you in a fucking minute.

Charlie Utter.

Have a thought for a good man dead.

Shut the place down! Bar's closed!

Go on, get the fuck outta here!

I'd learn the import of that look
passed 'twixt you and fucking Hearst .

Get the Marshal a whiskey.

I don't want a fucking drink.

Say, Bullock, a fella not many hours
left to order his affairs,

applied them that remain, naming such
purposes that he'd give primacy.

Deal me in or don't, al.

I'd not be fucked halfway up.

Hearst stopped by,
wanted to bury the hatchet.

Pool revenue and influence
in exchange for Trixie's life.

Planning to run telephone wires
across Utter's property.

Lumber lies at his claim.

Him conveying that to you,
you said fucking what?

- I let the offer sit.
- To what fucking end?

You ever think, Bullock,
of not going straight at a thing?

No.

What's the move, Al?

Wish to fuck I knew.

Killing Charlie Utter
changes the game.

Say a man has an eyewitness
to bring to bear.

Name him.

Samuel Fields.

The nigger general was
an eyewitness to what?

Eyewitness to them
as did for Charlie Utter.

And thereby need
a good fucking murdering.

Sidestepping legal administration.

If it ain't for Hearst to follow the law,

why the fuck should it be for you?

Now, how should I construe that look
on your mug, Bullock?

My job ain't to follow the law, Al.

My job is to interpret it,

then enforce it accordingly.

You best counsel your partner proper.

The safety of the mother and child.

Sol and me'll see to it.

Hearst won't take long

before he honors the rigors
of his putrid fucking nature.

He'll want an answer.

I'll deliver your fucking answer.

Fucking telephone in my joint.

Saloon is a sanctuary.

Every man worth the name
knows the value of being unreachable.

Will you have me suck your prick now,
Mr. Swearengen?

What has changed since early
when I declined the offer?

Do I look suddenly robust,
unimpededly erect?

I am out, as I told you,

of sorts, commission, activity.

And more and more forgetful

what the whole sordid fucking business
is to signify.

Plenty I wouldn't mind forgetting.

Hey, come over here. Come on.

You dropped this earlier.

Real or not, I value it high.

That is a goddamn gold commemorative
worth $12 to $14.

Can I ask who the woman was earlier
today, yelling from the hotel balcony?

One who ain't afraid to die.

And who you'd see live?

Well, that's the question.
When I'm gone, who'll protect her?

Can the Jew do what needs to be done?
Can Bullock?

Oh, Christ, save me.

Have I feelings for her?

Am I that fucking lost a cunt,
a man my age?

Makes me wanna weep,

how you remind me of my dad.

Don't you hang your relations
around my neck.

It's a sad night.

Something's afire.

Christ.

I do have feelings.

Hyah!

Charlie Utter.

So much to
rounding up Trixie for me.

Last night, you sent little Wu
with a notion to abstain!

Did I, now?

Doc is not 100% all the way to the top

persuaded that you oughta be
up and about just yet.

Doc's got a call
to his own fucking opinion,

but not to be blabbing

about what pertains or ain't
to my fucking plans, huh?

Fucking drenched.

What are you doing up, Al?

Well, this is fucking pain
in the balls.

Jesus Christ!

I owe Charlie Utter
a sending off, Doc.

Oh, god damn it, Al.

Okay.

Hey, Dan!

You do it, huh?

Handful of dirt from each of us?

Charlie Utter.

You got to walk it by yourself

there's nobody else...

Mr. Utter's accustomed
to letting me cross

his land and fish the stream

that separates his acres from Mr. Hearst.

He come 'round about a quarter
past the second I caught,

I heard a rifle shot,
and I took the fuck off

Could you identify
the man who did it?

No, Sir, I cannot.

Because I didn't see him.

You being you?

Me being the color I am, yes, Sir .

I wish I could.

I'am say this once to you, Marshal.

I'm gonna let myself hope

that you don't permit them
stringing me up

over something I had nothing
to do with, not fuck all.

Nobody's trying to lynch you
at this moment here, Samuel.

And if you look at me hard,

you'll know
they'll have to kill me down the road

before they get to do it then.

Bless you seeing clear
to say so, Marshal,

and get me a good goddamn lawyer.

Sorry for the lateness.
Goult's flaring.

Was at the Doc's.

Been hearing about your
gout a lot lately, Harry.

Pokes me like devil's in there
working with a tiny pitchfork.

How's this going?

Get me a good goddamn lawyer, Marshal!

I was standing on the banks

of the river

looking out over
life's troubled seas

when I saw an old ship

that was sailing
is that the old...

Come on, Jane.
Time for Charlie's burial.

Remember when Bill passed?

Charlie so broke up
he'd been out the camp,

couldn't attend the goodbye?

And I recollect, too, girl barely
could put one foot front the other,

but weren't gonna fail
to see Bill Hickok off.

When Sol Star and I
came to this community,

Charlie Utter

was first man forward
offering his hand in greeting.

Over time, Sol and I formed
a friendship with Charlie.

Enriched our lives.

Come up to proper,
he was good natured and just.

Come to anyway at all,

I never saw a man stand him down.

Only right he should be buried
on the land he worked his life for.

Charlie was took from us wrongful,
and he was...

He was took too soon.

We ask respite for a good man's soul.

Pray the lord carry him home.

No man never stood up
for me how Charlie did,

nor with no word
about doing it, neither.

Amen. Amen.

Woman: Amen to that.

Gentlemen.

Senator Hearst expecting us.

Room number nine.

Constituents of the cocksucker
from California?

Don't I deserve common courtesy?

May I mention services
this community's mayor,

albeit admittedly
a largely titular position.

But facts are facts.

Well deserved, if modest,
recognitions, gentlemen.

Jobs well done.

Well, if you call them recognitions
just modest, Mr. Hearst,

I pray to Christ we run across
you the day you're showing off.

Certain you were unseen?

Not a human eye for miles.

Man looks
to be losing his mind, Dennis.

That direction. What the fuck?

I saw a fisherman at the claim

earlier in the day.

Dark-completed fellow,
wading the stream.

You bring me to wonder aloud if that
last was a bald-faced fabrication.

My sources say Marshal's
collected a witness, for a fact.

I paid for execution

at a level of professional excellence.

You were commissioned

to undertake of certain effort.

It went without saying

that you would address
any complications that might ensue.

Part of the contract, Sir, yeah.

They have someone in custody,

which fails, by a considerable margin,
to please me.

I strongly suggest you handle it.

How the fuck are we supposed
to get into the Marshal's office?

Check on the veracity of this claim?

My sources are to be trusted,
it won't be easy.

But neither will it be impossible.

Uh-huh.

I see.

This further business,

if successfully brought to fruition,
will earn each of you

$50 additional.

Well, now we're talking.

- The negro fisherman?
- That'd be a job well done.

Judas priest!

A word with you, Mr. Farnum!

Property of mine
fell victim to arson last night.

So, Senator, I'm gave to understand.

What dreadful news.

Place this lumber order.
The vendor is in lead.

Tell the man weekly deliveries
until further notice.

By telegraph, Sir?

There is a public telephone
just outside.

Take the leap, Mr. Farnum.

The future awaits.

The queue, Sir, stretches.

Have you seen the riffraff lined up?

Stall progress, he may.
Stop it, he cannot.

Every business, Mr. Farnum,
in this territory thrives

as a direct result of communication.

Now, we've no say as to the pace

of modernity's advance.

I myself am merely its vessel.

A humble foot-soldier.

Its inevitability
is the deepest truth...

What is wrong with you, god damn it,

to be shifting your feet
so incessantly?

The procession of years,
wanton leakage.

You are a vile creature.

Nor are you first to say so.

Get the hell out and place the call.

I'll detain you
for the briefest moment.

- Now.
- Yes, Sir. Going.

Peaches, Jewel,
are for meeting of the town elders.

This prospect here before us,
it's an auction.

It's hardly the same fucking thing.

God, you think about ever
getting yourself a hobby, Dan?

And that smart-ass mouth
of yours is gonna get you

relegated back to the fucking kitchen.

Futile to go to Hearst this way.

No match for his resources,
but it'd be a pity

not to recognize what's at stake.

To go ahead and die stupid.

Hate to end a fool, right?

Sure as hell Charlie Utter didn't.

What's essential is you remember,
do your part.

Naught else, Marshal?
Laundry required?

I'll let you know.

Where you been, Bullock?

Right up the fucking road, al.

God damn it!

God damn it.

My goodness. A voice?

Hello, in there.

I'm calling the town of lead!

It's Deadwood's mayor,
E.B. Farnum, relegated to

magnate-Senator
George Hearst's errand boy,

calling lead lumber
at the Senator's behest.

The negro will lay slain
before this concludes.

Christ. I must get to Bullock.

Good afternoon

and welcome
to the Utter estates dispersal,

as will proceed under the supervision
of the Deadwood bank.

A description of the parcel
and its dimensions

are detailed
in the available literature.

First bids on landholdings
of Charlie Utter,

Deadwood bank the fiduciary,
to commence at $2,500,

increments thereafter of
$100 above the previous bid.

I'm not made for such complexity.

Who will open now
on parcel one at $2,500?

I've a bid for $2,500

on the regrettably deceased
Mr. Utter's very desirable property.

Who will go with me now to 26?

- $2,600.
- Backing your play, partner.

Conservative proffer.

$2,700.

Upon which Hearst takes
matters by the neck.

$3,000.

Nor do I lack for stronger opinions.

- $3,100.
- 32.

Rode in, did you, Marshal,
on a Trojan horse?

Floor's heard $3,200.

$3,300, please.

34. And if you know
your limit, Marshal,

let's hurry and get to it,
so that I may get us past,

and that we, all of us
can sup at a decent hour.

$3,400, heard once.

$3,500.

Terrible fire
at your claim last night.

Everybody whole, Senator?

36.

$3,700.

38.

$3,900.

I've $3,900 once.

Mr. Hearst sent us.

It's fucking daytime.

Not our fucking problem.

Say how you want it played.

Key's on the desk,
this side of my head.

$4,300. 44

Seth... Do I hear $4,500?

$5,000, god damn it.

As ought shoo the sightseers off.

- $5,500.
- 56.

$6,000.

$6,500.

$7,000.

$7,200.

$7,300.

And neither if you continue, Sir,
will you find yourself unaccompanied.

I've $7,300
for the Utter property heard once.

$7,300 twice.

Third time.

Sold to the distinguished
and resourceful Mrs. Ellsworth ,

for $7,300!

Mrs. Ellsworth .

You honor Charlie today.

Bullock!

Excuse me.

What is it, E.B.?

You're certain? Yes.

Dan.

- With Al.
- Staying.

No!

Sorry.

How long ago?

Ugh, I couldn't tell you
for mortal truth.

- They got Samuel.
- Marshal!

Come! Something bad is happening!
Come!

Come! Come here!

Lemme go, the chink lives.

Mengyao!

Mengyao!

You gonna die if you do that.

You arresting me for beating a coon
murdered a decent white man?

- You murdered Charlie Utter.
- Aye? And who says so?

I say so.

That's him, Bullock.

That killed your friend.

Seth.

Seth! Seth!

Don't kill him!

Take care of Samuel.

Wu, feed that fuck to the pigs.

George Hearst! Come out!

George Hearst! Come out, now!

Identify the man hired you
to do Charlie Utter's murder.

Finally lost your grip, Marshal.

Name the man! Go on!

Point him out.

He hired us.

Who did?

Set up, Marshal, are we?

Justice and mercy in proper relation.
Feeling more a man?

Better lock the next
shipment of lumber up.

I expect you believe a badge
insulates you

from certain untoward consequences.

Much as your being a U.S. Senator
will insulate you from jail.

Tell this cocksucker
to lower his weapon!

Inside, now.

Fucking shot I am!

You'll fucking live.

Johnny...

Congratulations on
the rising body count.

Ain't proud of it.

I'm coming for you, Marshal.

Expect you will, Senator.

Mr. Hearst ?

Hold your son.

Rock him towards sleep.

Feed him his milk
I've squeezed into his bottles.

Clean and change him
when he does his business.

Wait, Trixie, where are you going?

First, Al's urgent call to see me.

Then, he sends this note
saying the opposite.

What the fuck, Sol?

Not mine.

Collateral damage is all.

Well, whose fucking blood is it?

Men who murdered Charlie, dead now.

- Oh, the Hebrew takes to arms!
- Trixie, please calm down.

Then, take him.

- No.
- For God's sakes.

I'm getting Al's counsel.

With our baby stood with his father,
20 possible minutes

or a fucking cunt hair more.

I'll exit back of the hotel,

sneaky as a mouse,

and enter the gem a sideways.

Being stupid and fucking reckless.

As I may be both, you Jew bastard,

to get out the fucking door.

Beating you
about head and shoulders, lad?

Theirs's the upper hand just now.

Some choice,
making your presence known to Hearst .

Whatever trouble I caused,

blame the baby's imminent arrival.

I took that young girl's life
to save yours.

Please, Al, don't say it again.

Haunts me, Jen's face does.

Weren't you cut her throat,

nor devised a fucking plan
that nearly got us all killed.

God have mercy on me.

I don't deserve the one
fucking minute of happiness,

my newborn gave me
coming into the world.

We chose you, you loopy cunt.

Look at the fucking mess
you've give us.

I'm un-fucking-worthy, al!

I belonged in that coffin, not her!

If your aim was to die, please,
allow me to do the honors.

We're all of us haunted by
our own fucking thoughts.

So, make friends with her ghost,
it ain't going fucking anywhere.

I'm sorry

for everything.

Heavens open up.

She expresses contrition.

New baby in camp?

Lovely little boy.

As born of his mother, he would be.

Did you try and stop her from leaving?

- Nothing I could do.
- Jesus Christ.

Swearengen's the only one I told
Samuel is in the cage.

Man may be a lot of things,
but he's not a snitch.

State he's in, more likely fucking
forgot the conversation entirely.

Too much to ask
you stay the hell outta trouble?

No, fucking Bullock.

Not too much.

I will.

Not himself, Al weren't.

Weak like I never seen him.

Gather some things now.

We're spending the night
at the Bullock house.

Moving us from the center of town.

I ain't running from him, Sol.

For our boy.

What are the odds
of him coming to?

He's severely injured
from the beating.

Spleen's ruptured.

Blood in his belly.

Odds on it ending?

All bleeding stops eventually.

We ought marry on the morrow, Sol.

Al ain't to be relied on to linger.

And we ain't exchanging
secret fucking vows,

tucked away in hiding.

Free all day.

Oh, Lord.

Oh, well done.

Proud performance.

Fucking pissed myself.

Argh!

Twenty minutes going forward
to the ceremony,

nor neither
the same interval afterwards,

no fornication on the premises.

Why does she get to hold him?

Because I'm the bride,
and it's my special fucking day.

Lend fucking hands, girls!

Make the place presentable.

May make that girl my wife.

She ain't gonna marry no man
age enough to be her daddy.

Soft hands smoothed my brow.

Wrists smelling like Jasmine.

She sewed the hole in my shoulder
closed with a needle and thread.

Lift your wallet while she's doing it?

That's a dark view of the world, Dan.

I ask to be enlightened
as to the passage of spirit

in prospect for me, Doc.

I take us to be collections of cells,

each aggregate a smaller,
separate life inside us,

and time slows.

And finally stops.

The fate my cell collections
live into as we speak.

That ain't so
to a mortal certainty, Al.

I'd not prolong the chewing up, Doc,
nor the being spat out.

Not go out a cunt.

It's the dispatch I find inglorious.

The whole delusory
fucking self-importance.

Is it your hope to attend the wedding?

It's my resolve.

All right, then.

Pucker up.

I'll take him.

Believe you were born to be a whore?

Probably doing what I'm fit for.

How hard you suppose
the bastard turned you out

had to work to make you think that?

Trixie.

Got an appointment upstairs.

Oh, well, I hope you're proud,
expelling your sneeze in my mug.

That's the Lord's blessing
come upon you, Al.

That's him leaning down
to kiss your cheek.

Yeah.

Well, I ain't got no time left
for fancy dancing.

Your thoughts on me
leaving you the joint?

Though not being either to say
you have to run women,

I strongly endorse that...

Make it a dance hall for all of me.

What about the circus elephants, Al,
producing some novel effect?

Dance hall, Trixie, ain't a bad idea.

Good man you got there!

Heart, soul,

and brains enough to
know that he struck lucky

in his female companion.

Good example for the kid to emulate.

And no fee for the sermon.

Excuse me now.

Hey.

Maybe you oughta think about
running for office?

Outnumbered, as we are, by shit-birds.

Food for thought, Mr.Swearengen.

That idea is my wedding gift to you.

Thank you.

Heard you was down here.

This one was Charlie's.

Yours, now. Sure he'd want that.

Past when I took what cy gave me,

I'd pray I wouldn't wake up.

You gutless cunt.
Don't you speak that way to me again.

Nor neither am I saying I feel
that way now, is my point.

You...

Gimme a goddamn kiss and say,

"I promise I won't fold,
no matter how sad I get."

Or just don't say a word at all, then.

Just go ahead gimme a kiss
and don't say a word.

Ohl

all right, well.

You bring to recollection
you're a hell of a good kisser.

And you're still chewing
that licorice?

That's my 12th least worst scent.

Time comes,
I have $14,057 in the mattress,

which you will divide equally.

You fight amongst yourselves,
you will wish there was no hell

because I will surely come back
and cut your fucking throats.

Well, I don't want your money.
Yeah...

There.

Gentlemen,

can we not appear as quadruplets?

Bless you for being upright,

for letting me have
my hand on your arm,

and for being
the showing up sort that you are.

What's else is gravy.

Safe passage to us all.

Oh, you're a picture, miss.

- Means something.
- Mmm-hmm.

Three times I go around?

Always coming back.

I ain't gave to flight.

Righteousness.

Loving kindness.

Justice.

For all in my ignorance,

I do not hew to the letter
of its practice, that I hope

the brief ceremony
will be respectful to Jewishness!

Level best, reverend! "A" for effort.

And bless you, my son,
thank you for understanding.

- Sermon's over.
- That's all

I'll now ask the young Ms. Sofia

to come forward
with the nuptial rings.

By the powers of each of
their religions and practices,

I now pronounce Sol and Trixie,
man and wife.

Should your husband kiss you?

Lest he be sleeping outdoors.

Been thinking, Jane.
Maybe I'd like to see the world.

For instance, what's France like?

Don't know.

Never wanted to see it
till this minute.

Happy occasion.

Papal.

Are you all right?

Let's figure out what to do
with that land.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph,
and all risen saints.

For once in your life,
resist the urge for Utterance.

As witness before my newborn child,
my hope in beginning again,

I pray we forbear from fucking up
each other's lives further,

and live in peace and quiet.

It seems to me, Mrs. Star,

in coming forward to conciliate me,

you consign yourself

to a misery not unlike a sort of

execution.

These two gentlemen are sheriff
and deputy from a neighboring town,

brought in to represent my interests.

Sheriff Laraby from lead.

We have a warrant for the arrest
of Trixie Star

for the attempted murder
of Mr. George Hearst.

You get the hell outta here.

Forbear, son, lest you be undone.

I'm not your son,

no more than you're the boss
of the fucking future.

Why, I believe
I am its whole inheritor.

These men have no jurisdiction here.

I'm guessing these two you brought

don't know the extent
of your crimes here.

Prime suspect in the murder
of Charlie Utter.

Are you going to
incarcerate me again, Marshal Bullock?

This time, for how many minutes?

Let's find out together.

- Little tight on my wrist.
- Shut up.

Come through my town, you stop
at the Marshal's office first.

Way a fellow lawman would do,
showing any fucking respect.

Sorry for the interruption.
Carry on with the celebration.

Smile, Senator Hearst!

'Fore you lock him up,

no harm you letting us
have a word with Mr. Hearst.

Speaking for Charlie Utter,
as is gone from amongst us.

What's going on here?
What's in train?

This United States of American Senator

had Charlie Utter murdered!

Yeah! He's a murderer!
Without remorse!

- Nor recourse!
- Can't hide behind that!

Nor fucking recollection!

I'll tear your head clean off, boy,
if that'll help recollection.

Who heaves up the next
gets dealt with.

- You entitled motherfucker!
- Son of a bitch.

Steer your people, Marshal.

- Shut the fuck up!
- Cocksuckers!

Nobody answering no one!

- Do what all they want!
- You got that right!

Go on now! Go! Go.

Easy!
What the hell?

Come on, let us finish it.

Leave him be.

Oh, good God.

Lest I arrest every one of you.

I've seen enough.

Get the fucking Doc.

Oh, yeah, let's do allay
the cocksucker in his misery.

Now, Jane!

Hope you die in the street.

Like my dad did!

Go on home, now!

You son of a bitch!

Have you finished
your impotent display?

No, I don't believe I have.

You're my witness, Senator .
Marshal's trying to kill you.

Coward was coming behind you, Bullock.

About to shoot you back the head.

Jane.

You son of a bitch, Harry.

That was Bill come into me.

Him come to protect us.

No, Jane. That was you.

The Good Book, Marshal,

says,

the Lord chooses
amongst his witnesses

them'd be thought least likely.

Is that so?

You might should oughta know,

before what happened,

Mr. Utter

seemed to me a different man.

Like a weight
had come off his shoulders.

What else they say
about the Lord's withesses?

What else?

Their defects notwithstanding,

they testify to us wondrous glory.

Singing, he was, at the end, Marshal,

while walking the valley.

Joyful to hear and behold.

Singing.

If you have it in you to abide,
I'd not have you leave me.

I won't, Al.

Comes to it,
Jewel and me will see to you.

I'll have the little one brought in.

I heard you singing the other day.
I thought you'd stabbed a frog.

If you want, Al, I can rub your feet.

Shaky hands, but it works well.

Go ahead, then.

Oh...

Waltzing Matilda
Waltzing Matilda

you'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me

Down came a jumbuck

to drink at the water hole

up jumped the swagman
and grabbed him in glee

and he said as he put him away

in the Tucker bag

you'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda

you'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me.

I'm home.

Our Father,

which art in Heaven...

Let him fucking stay there.