All language subtitles for Maverick S02E04

Don't make me have
to get any of you.

Try to get this through
your thick skulls.

I am sick of the sight of you.

If I thought I had a snow ball's
chance of making it back alone...

I'd leave the three of you out here
to try to talk each other to death.

I can't make it back alone.

I'd need help when I
got to the mountains.

And I'm going to have help.

If I have to kill one of you
to get the other two back...

I'll do it.

Maverick.

Starring James
Garner and Jack Kelly.

Produced by Warner Bros.

From the entertainment
capital of the world...

produced for television
by Warner Bros.

Haven't the foggiest
who the chap could be.

It's rather obvious
he's a gentleman.

Those hands have
never been used for work.

Isn't this whole conversation
rather nicksy dicksy?

After all, we are governed
by the laws of hospitality.

Stranger in distress
and all that sort of thing...

has men indulging
in a bit of conjecture.

Could you contrive to table it,
Norbert? I think he's coming to.

- Where am I?
- You're going to be all right.

You're at Belcastle cottage.

- England?
- Wyoming.

Permit me.

My niece, Lady Ellen
Belcastle, my brother Norbert.

Marquis of Belcastle, Viscount
Darrow, Baron of Lessingham-Burnie...

and fellow of the
Royal Historical Society.

One hand shake will
do nicely for all of them.

I'm merely Albert Belcastle.

My name is Bret Maverick.
What are you a fellow of?

Of infinite jest.

There's time enough for chatter
when Mr. Maverick is feeling stronger.

Do run down and tell cook
we shall want some broth.

I'll have Benson pop up
and shave the poor chap.

That should do him a world.

My brother Norbert has an
unfailing sense of the fitness of things.

I should warn you, Mr. Maverick, that when
we speak of the thin red line of Empire...

it's Norbert Belcastle
whom we have in mind.

Uh...

What's a Marquis?

A Marquis is something
between a Duke and an Earl.

Technically it's a royal officer
guarding the border regions or marches.

Like Wyoming?

Heavens no. You're
all independent now.

Now please settle down and rest.

When you're talking to a
Marquis, what do you call him?

Most people say "Lord
Belcastle" or "Milord."

I guess I'd better call
him Lord Belcastle.

The other sounds like swearing.

We certainly couldn't
have that, could we?

One other thing.

How do I call a lady?

You ring the little
bell beside your bed.

Come in.

Here we are, sir.

There. They look
infinitely better.

And if I may say
so, sir, so do you.

- Why, thank you, Benson.
- A few days' rest does wonders.

What have you got there?

Oh, a bit of a surprise, sir.
Thought they'd cheer you up no end.

That almost looks like my coat.

It is your coat, sir.

One of the cow herds found
your saddle bags out on the moor.

I took the liberty of
freshening up your things.

You're a credit to your family.

You must have legged
it quite a distance, sir.

The cow chap found your things
a full six miles from the house.

Oh, I remember. I was
only wearing a shirt, wasn't I?

Quite so, sir.

I thought I'd
lost an old friend.

Could you get me the
things I had on when I came?

Oh, I'm afraid not, sir.

They looked so
completely beyond repair...

that I took the liberty
of burning them.

Burning them?

I shall put the question
back at you, sir.

What always brings people o'er
from one place to another? Grass.

I thought for a minute
you said "grass."

Quite. Grass is food.

The whole history of
civilization, my dear chap...

is of people ever moving
westward looking for greener grass...

from the very beginning
of recorded time.

Must we go back to
the beginning of time?

All the gentleman was asking...

Present, the world's
finest grass is in Wyoming.

Consequently, so are we.

Use better cattle, feed it
on the native grass here.

It has millions in it.

Well, that makes sense.

You've moved to America
for business reasons.

Good heavens, no.

We are merely
moving a bit of capital.

As soon as we've got things
here ship shape, in Bristol fashion...

it's hippity hop and home again.

The new colonialism, old boy,
don't send troops, send money.

- I say, Mabrill...
- Maverick.

His name's not Mabrill,
Father, it's Maverick.

Tosh! There's no
such name as Maverick.

What would it mean?

Well, back home in Texas, a maverick
is a calf that's lost its mother...

and his father has run
off with another cow.

- A foundling.
- No, it's just a lostling.

Quite.

What else do you do,
Mr. Maverick, for a livelihood, I mean?

With your permission, I shall
leave you to your cigars. Benson.

Benson was telling me that
you seemed quite perturbed...

by the loss of your old shirt,
as if there'd been money in it.

There was. A
thousand dollar bill.

Heavens, man, that's 200 quid!

Isn't that rather a large bank note
to lug about loose in one's pocket?

I kept it pinned.

That makes all the difference.

My father insisted on it.

He said my brother and I
were so shiftless that if...

we didn't carry at least a thousand
dollars, we'd starve to death.

And now that you
have it no longer?

I guess I starve.

Nonsense, my boy.
This is a British home.

We're responsible for you
until you're on your way again.

Well, you've been very kind.

But being on my way
seems to be the real problem.

He'd need a horse
and money for the road.

I could work for you.

Work?

Yes. I'd insist
on working for it.

Very well then.

We shall have to find
something for you to do.

There you are, my man.

If you'll just trot these things
over to the cow head's quarters...

I'm sure they'll find
somewhere for you to sleep.

"I'm sure they'll find
somewhere for you to sleep."

"I see by your outfit
That you are a cowboy"

These words he did
say As I gayly rode by

Come sit down beside
me And hear my sad story

Shot in the...

Maybrook!

Maverick!

You waiting to see the
sun rise or something?

Let's go to work!

Let him go.

Hyah, hyah!

Good show.

Come on, Maybrook!

I say, Maverick, my horse
seems to have picked up a pebble.

If he can do that, maybe
you can teach him to juggle.

Hear, hear.

I don't suppose you
could help the poor brute.

Well, I'll try. I know
just how he feels.

I say, you are a fright. What in
pity's name have you been doing?

- Pitching fodder into the loft.
- Why?

So when winter comes, I can climb
back up there and pitch it down again.

I see.

Poor Maverick.

There must be something
better suited to your talents.

There is...

but these cow hands don't
have any money until pay day.

I don't suppose you play cards.

Whist.

Oh, yes, I'm an
inveterate gambler.

Well, that's nice to know.

I'll make you a little bet.

If you like. What shall
we bet on and how much?

Ninety-three cents,
even money...

on the keenness of your eye
and the brightness of your logic.

That sounds utterly smashing.

First we need a
belt and a pencil.

No pencil?

Maybe a hair pin.

Now...

what you do is this:

You push the hair pin
through one of these loops...

so that when you unroll it
the hair pin will be inside.

Quite.

There's still time to
change your mind.

Would you mind?

Just unroll it this way.
That's the way you rolled it up.

Just so.

Now unroll it.

I say, this is a bit thick.

Thank you. You won't forget
about the pebble, will you?

There's no gain saying it's
been rather upstream to you...

but to become so discouraged
you want strike out on foot?

Lord Belcastle, it
comes down to this.

I'd like to have a horse and
a saddle and a grubstake...

but on my income,
which is $12 a month...

- they're luxuries I can't afford.
- Mustn't take the short view.

It's merely a matter
of sticking it through.

Well, I've stuck it through
wars and fence floors...

and prison camps
and cattle drives.

I've fought Yankees and Indians
and grizzly bears and prize fighters...

but there's just one
thing I can't fight:

The fact that I just wasn't
cut out to be a cowboy.

I dare say, you know
more about it than I, but...

grizzly bear? Ursus horribilis?

Are you a huntsman?

Well, I've shot more of
them than they have of me.

By jove, Maybrook,
I think that's it.

It's what?

The means by which you're going to
earn your horse and gear, and grubstake.

Look here...

my brother Albert,
my daughter and I...

are frightfully keen to go
on a safari whilst we're here.

- Sa-what?
- Safari. Hunting expedition.

It would have to
be rather primitive.

No bearers, no beaters
and all that sort of thing.

We'd all be rather roughing
it, you know, but dash it all.

Dash it all!

There we went, the
thin red line of Empire...

the house of Belcastle,
loaded for bear...

with food, clothing, shelter,
and the bare essentials of life.

And bringing up the
rear, a simple native guide.

Two days across the grasslands
and five days across the desert...

taught me one thing
about the British aristocracy.

When they talk
about roughing it...

that means no fresh
cream for the 4:00 tea.

Nothing like the warm, dry,
exhilarating air of the desert.

We could stand a bit of
this in England, you know.

One more day and we
shall reach the highlands.

And I forgot to bring my kilts.

I say, Maybrook! What cheer?

Can't complain, your Lordship.

How are things over
in the officer's mess?

That's what I like to hear.

A bit of healthy
grousing from the ranks.

I'll try to oblige.

I think it utterly smashing the
change that's come over Maverick...

since we started on safari.

Really, Maverick,
you're like a new person.

It's all in giving a body
something he can do.

The man wasn't cut
out for punching steers.

He was meant all
along to be a guide.

I'm not sure yet.

As my pappy used to say...

it'd be a pitiful thing if I
ever tried to work for a living.

"Son," he said, "use your wits
because the Lord didn't give you brains."

That's really quite droll.

You must never listen to
that sort of talk, Maybrook.

If you think you can
do a thing, you can do it.

Now that's why you didn't
make out as a cowherd.

You weren't
keeping a stiff upper.

The one thing that has stayed
me through every crisis...

is the comforting knowledge...

that nothing is ever so
bad that it couldn't be worse.

Hello.

You're just in time for tea.

You want some tea, Gus?

No.

Coffee then. There must be
something we can give you.

Well, seeing that you
brought it up yourself...

Food, water, everything.

They might at least
have left us their horses.

Give us a chance to get
back to the nearest outpost.

They didn't want us
getting back to any outpost.

That seems a bit steep.

Have you any notion
who they were?

The leader's name was Gus.

I'd guess they were the Shaughnessys,
a bunch of outlaws on the run.

They figured they needed
everything they took.

Table cloths, women's clothing?

I think they were simply a set of
bounders enjoying our predicament.

They were on the
run, Lady Ellen.

If they were just out on a picnic,
they'd have invited you along.

Oh.

Well, Norbert?

It's going to be a rum go but we
shall try to make do with what we have.

- Nothing?
- Quite.

We've come five days so far. That
should mean five days getting back.

Five days by horse. That's
at least ten days on foot.

Be touch and go,
but we can do it.

Without food or water?

My dear, there's food
and water everywhere...

if one knows how to look for it.

I read up a bit on the desert.

One looks for water by
following game trails...

by searching the
valleys and depressions...

by watching the
flights of birds.

If there's a bird within miles of
here, he seems to be painfully shy.

May I make a suggestion?

Of course.

Ten days is a long time
to go looking for water.

Do you have an alternative?

I'm pretty sure those people
were the Shaughnessys.

They were heading for their
hideout in the mountains.

The mountains are
only two days away.

We stand a good chance
of making it that far.

And then?

Well, if we're lucky, maybe we
can get our stuff back from them.

That's interesting,
but hardly practical.

Well, what's practical
about heading 200 miles...

- straight across the desert on foot?
- I should think that quite obvious.

When we finish our walk,
we shall have got somewhere.

We shall have our
resources again...

instead of having to battle
a gang of ruddy bandits.

If we start out that way,
we won't even need bandits.

May I remind you, Maybrook,
this is my expedition?

Do you realize what
you want to blunder into?

I've seen men come off
a desert down in Texas...

after just three
days without water.

They came out, didn't they?

- Some of them.
- So shall we.

Belcastle, you're the
first man I've ever seen...

who'd try to draw three
cards to fill a straight.

That's picturesque,
but unintelligible.

If we keep going
toward the mountains...

we have a chance to stay alive,
but if we head back into that desert...

You've stated your opinion,
Maybrook. Now we can be on our way.

That way.

Can you talk some
sense into him?

It's not really necessary.

If Norbert says we're going that
way, that's the way we're going.

Why?

Because Norbert is an
immanently sensible man.

Sir Thurston Alderholt wrote
a fascinating paper on it...

which I have somewhere.
I really must look it up.

One looks for certain plants that
indicate water close to the surface.

And wherever the sand
is damp, well, naturally...

Try not to talk, Father.
It'll only dry you out.

I say, Maverick.

I'm rather puzzled, old man.

I know why we're headed this
way, but tell me, why are you?

Well, there's no point in heading
toward the mountains alone.

There's nine of them
and only one of me.

You still think Norbert's
ill advised, do you?

Oh, he's well advised,
he's just too stupid to listen.

Then why are you
jogging along with us?

Well, I can't let you
just wander off and die.

How thoughtful.

We kept it up all that day...

making good British
progress toward nowhere at all.

It was the only thing to do.

I'd finished trying to talk sense
into Lord Belcastle's head.

The desert itself could do
that a lot quicker than I could...

that is, if anything could.

The sun seems to
get hotter all the time.

It'll be worse tomorrow.

The further into
the desert we get.

How do you feel?

I can't say I give
it much thought.

That helps.

I've seen people dead
that look better than you do.

The thing to do is press on and
save our little compliments for later.

You're still set on pressing on?

Naturally.

This thin red line of Empire is
beginning to look pretty thick to me.

And what is that
intended to mean?

You make a stupid decision, or his
worship here makes one for you...

and you stick to it
the rest of your lives.

That's only going to
be two or three days.

We've heard quite
enough from you.

I thought one day without food
and water would show you...

you're going the wrong way...

but I keep forgetting
who you people are.

It takes you longer
to get the point.

It seems to take you
longer too, my man.

First of all, I deeply
resent your suggesting...

that I've made some sort
of unicameral decision.

We've observed the democratic
processes, discussed the matter fully...

and come to a majority
vote on this course.

And the very least you can
do is to abide by it gracefully.

Since we are set on going that
way, we might as well go quietly.

I'm not going that way.

Indeed?

And you aren't either.

Come now, Maybrook. I needn't
say I think you're behaving quite badly.

Childishly.

You people once saved my life
and I guess it's up to me now...

to try and save yours,
whether you like it or not.

I suggest we try
to get some rest.

Perhaps we can talk more
sensibly in the morning.

There's no time to talk or rest.

We're going that way
and we're going now.

Why now?

Because we can travel
three times as fast at night.

We can look for shade at daybreak
and we can rest while the sun is out.

You're determined
to die out there alone.

If I die, it won't be alone.

For pity's sake, Maybrook,
you're still outvoted.

I hate to say this, Belcastle...

but we're not holding any more
elections this side of Wyoming.

I'm declaring martial law.

Heh. I'm afraid you've got
yourself a sticky wicket, my boy.

There's still three of
us and only one of you.

There are two of
us, Lord Belcastle.

If that's your authority,
I'm afraid it just won't do.

You'd have to get quite
close to use it on anyone...

and I can assure you you'd
only get one of us at most.

Don't make me have
to get any of you.

Try to get this through
your thick skulls.

I am sick of the sight of you.

If I had a snowball's chance
of making it back by myself...

I'd leave the three of you out
here to talk each other to death!

Thank you very much.

I can't make it back alone.

I'd need help when I
got to the mountains.

And I'm going to have help.

If I have to kill one of you
to get the other two back...

I'll do it.

I think he really means it.

Of course he does.

You first, Belcastle.

You know something, Maverick?

What's that?

The last person to depose a
Belcastle was King Harold Hairfoot...

1039.

He got tired of arguing, huh?

Ah, ah. Democratic
processes, you know.

Only wanted to borrow the knife.

Can't be done, your Lordship.

If I lent it to you, I'm afraid I might
have trouble borrowing it back.

As you wish.

I'm dreadfully thirsty.

I know.

Here.

How can this help thirst?

It can't. It just takes
your mind off of it.

Hear, Maverick...

you were right about
traveling at night.

We're already back past the
place where we lost our things.

I don't suppose it matters that
we've frightfully overtired ourselves.

All right, all
right, don't move.

What are you doing?

Just laying in some supplies.

Too bad, old timer.
It's the law of the jungle.

Step right up, folks.
Don't be bashful.

What are we
supposed to do with it?

Well, what do you
usually do with food.

Do you mean eat it?

Thank you, no!

I'm not asking you.
I'm telling you. Eat it.

One blessed consolation.

My mouth's so dry I
can't tell what it tastes like.

I can't even feel it.

I don't like it.

I don't suppose you've
ever been in the Army.

First thing we're taught,
you're not required

to like it, you're just
required to eat it.

I'm so hungry I
could eat a horse.

Unfortunately, we
don't have one of those.

Quite.

I say, Maverick.

It suddenly hits me...

isn't it true that
rattlesnakes travel in pairs?

I've heard something like that.

Well then, it's not too late.

For what?

Turn back and
wait for the other.

Just keep up your pace and you can have
half of Lord Belcastle's ursus horribilis.

What?

- Grizzly bear.
- Oh.

We'd already done what I figured
none of us could possibly do.

We'd gone more than
three days on our own...

and we were still almost alive.

A reptile here, a
little cactus there...

and every time I saw one,
I had the same thought:

There couldn't
possibly be another.

We're going to
make it, aren't we?

This time tomorrow, we
should be in the mountains.

You're sure?

We'll make it or die trying.

Quite.

Bret.

Yes, ma'am.

Are we being good troops,
Father and Albert and I?

England's finest.

I've had Father
out before the mast.

He shan't be acting up again.

Again?

I saw what happened
yesterday. About the knife, that is.

You don't miss a thing, do you?

Are you truly a
professional gambler, Bret?

Lady Ellen, I'm not a
professional anything. I'm too lazy.

In England, we don't call
our friends Lady this and that.

Are we friends?

We are, indeed.

Tell me about Texas...

and what sort of little boy you were
when you were growing up there.

Things are dry enough already
without getting into that little story.

The third night's walk was
worse than any before...

and I wasn't sure we
were going to make it.

Things happen to you when
you haven't enough water.

Ellen found a lump
of sugar in her pocket.

She put it in her mouth
and it wouldn't even dissolve.

You find it harder to sleep, which
is a kind of a blessing almost...

because you dream about
things you don't want to.

Myself, I kept dreaming about a huge
beautiful yellow-meated watermelon.

I figured we were half
way of the last lap...

when I suddenly saw something
that just had to be a mirage.

It was an orchard.

Cheers.

When we hit the bottom of that barrel
cactus, we were ready to move on.

It's a lot different with
moisture inside you.

I led as fast a pace as I
thought we could manage.

We'd been
amazingly lucky so far.

If our luck held out,
or even if it didn't...

this was bound to be our
last night in that desert.

Finally, we reached
the mountains.

We've done it.

Almost.

Well, shall we?

We'll make better time if
we rest five minutes first.

The worst of it's over.

Somewhere in the neighborhood,
we'll find our supplies...

and the people who took them.

You seem quite sure of that.

Belcastle, I've
got to feel sure.

Never fear. They'll be there.

Finding the
blighters is one thing.

Getting our stores
back is another.

How do you propose to do that?

Steal them back.

- Fight for them.
- Ha.

Enough of that.

Bret.

Before we go...

- Ellen, I must say!
- Then do, Father.

It strikes me that we've all
taken leave of our senses.

Don't be tedious.

Before we go, Norbert...

I've never said any of this before,
but I think the occasion has come for it.

Ahem. It's never seemed
really logical to me.

A man has to study to be a
Lieutenant General or chimney sweep...

but anyone can be a Duke or a Marquis
simply by being born in the right bed.

That's hardly an original
observation, Albert, but it is profound.

Why don't you write
a letter to the Times?

Now stop it, both of you.

No. This is important.

Sometime in the dim past, someone
with a crown about his head...

tapped a chap on the
shoulder with a sword...

and said, "Rise,
Marquis of Belcastle."

Why?

Because, dash it all, the chap
was a superior fighter. A leader.

And he was needed for a job.

Much the same as with chimney sweeps,
except they have to keep working at it.

Now if you should feel
inclined to work at it, Norbert...

the very least you can do for
all those dusty old Belcastles...

is to go out there and get
their ruddy silver back for them!

Are we ready?

Yeah, I think we've covered
just about everything.

We still had a couple
of hours before sun up.

Since we all couldn't go
charging around in the dark...

stumbling over things, I
advised the house of Belcastle...

to use the time for rest
while I went reconnoitering.

Not a sign of life anywhere.

Not a sign that life had ever
existed within miles of the place...

except our own, of course...

and that still looked
awfully temporary.

Something's wrong, isn't it?

I couldn't see
anything anywhere.

What was that? What?

I climbed high
enough to look around.

There's no sign of the
people we're looking for.

Ah, well.

Can't expect to
stumble on them first off.

I was sure this is
where they'd be.

If they were here, there'd be a
camp fire to protect the animals.

I couldn't see smoke.

What could you see?

Meat? Vegetables? Water?

I'm afraid not.

Do you have any plan for
what we should do next?

No, not yet.

Of course you haven't.

Would surprise me to no end
if you should come up with one.

Mr. Maybrook, I've followed
you, against my will I needn't say...

for three nights and two days...

and you've only led us up what I
might ludicrously call the garden path.

I think it might be wise...

if I carried the knife now.

Norbert...

you're not helping
things by being difficult.

I'm afraid there's no
sensible alternative...

unless of course you'd like to lead us out
of the mess your friend has led us into.

Maybrook, the knife.

I'm afraid not, Norbert.

This won't do! It
simply won't do!

You mustn't, Norbert.

None of us has
strength to throw away.

Am I still the minority?

For a while, Father.

I seem to be still
at your service.

Well, if you feel all right, I
think we'd better be moving.

Where?

North. That's the way
they'd have headed.

- You ready?
- Carry on.

Albert.

We'd been in worse
condition out in that desert.

But we'd had something in the
desert that we seem to be losing now.

We'd had something to
aim for. The mountains.

Now that we were in the
mountains, I could feel the others...

thinking that we were
aiming at nothing at all.

- You see it?
- Barely.

What?

Come on.

I think they're all
present or accounted for...

unless there's another
guard we didn't get.

There's seven men
down there for us to fight.

We've only 24 rounds.

Well, there's this to be said.

They won't know who
we are nor what we've got.

What do you think?

A trifle thinish. They've got
fairly decent cover themselves.

I'd like it better if we
could trim the odds a bit.

- How?
- There's a way.

We should have to chance it, but
they're all asleep or at least groggy.

We'd have to go in without
being seen or heard...

like a pair of red Indians.

Go in where?

Down there, of course.

Get arms and ammunition, perhaps
even take the blaggards by surprise.

Excellent.

That's really excellent.

We shall have to hurry.

Afraid you can't go, Albert.

It's my duty to go
but we can't expose...

the whole male line of
the house of Belcastle.

I will not be regarded
as breeding stock!

He's quite right, Albert.

It's up to Father and Bret.

Take care.

Coming, Maybrook?

Hey!

Come on, Norbert!

Norbert!

Norbert, get up here! Run!

Norbert, you... Get up here!

Splendid, Albert! Splendid!

Maverick!

Hey, Ellen!

Get down from there!

There's nothing
you can do for him.

Your pistol, please.

Father.

Father.

I say, who won?

For heaven's sake, don't
try to mount alone, Norbert!

You are a wounded man, you know.

Nonsense. More stunned
than anything else.

I've been thinking about
that chap, Maybrook.

I'm sure he'd be pleased.

Born leader. A bit headstrong...

but good stuff there.

Mustn't let him get away.

What would you use him for?

Superintend the
Wyoming property?

That's dull thinking, Albert.

It's obvious he's
drawn to Ellen.

It's even more so that
Ellen's drawn to him.

- You're not thinking...
- Of course I am.

Do wonders for the bloodline.

Perhaps they'll work
it out for themselves.

Ready, Bret.

Is that all?

I'm eager.

What are you going to do when
we get back to Belcastle cottage?

What are you going to do?

I dare say we'll go
back to England.

We were almost ready before.

I don't think you
really like Wyoming.

There's a look in Father's eye.

I suspect he's going to invite you
to come back with us to England.

Do you think I should go?

England's a wonderful place...

for the English.

Yeah.

Now if you were going someplace where
it was more civilized, like, say, Denver...

Lord Belcastle, old boy?

- Ready when you are, Bret.
- You're the leader, you know.