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♪♪

He sat down to write a poem.

One about life and things.

On that would tell and shriek and yell.

One that would soar and sing.

He would mention his mind and...

...and the trees and the sea.

And his heart

and his girl and their love.

He defined what was good,

what was bad,

what was odd...

and add a coda...

to God.

So...

he thought and he pondered

upon all these things

till his being

rumbled with fear.

So he put down his pen

lit a cigarette...

Then...

...ended his poem right here.

Dad-burnit, Mr. Smith.

How do you keep all them poems in your head straight like that?

I mean, you've been going on like this for a couple hours.

Just a simple accident of nature, Mr. Cartwright.

Like warts.

Who, uh, who wrote this one?

An ancient Druid priest,

name of Collywobbles.

Who was foully slain

by a pack of rabid suffragettes.

For the inner man.

'Neath the weeds and the wild berries,

near the barren, praying trees,

past that gash of a road by my home

stood...

When did the deafness first strike you, friend?

Look, mister,

I been putting up with your stuff for near an hour now.

That's long enough, I'd say.

Then you don't plan to cease playing that machine.

No, I don't.

Ah... well, in that case, I shall strike you so hard

that you will have to remove your boots to brush your teeth.

Here, have a drink.

Ah!

Come on, fellas! Come on, leave him alone, leave him alone!

Leave him alone! Get away from him!

To the victors!

Will!

♪♪

Hoss?

I thought I heard you come in.

What have you got in here?

Here? Yeah.

Oh, I just got a little food I'm taking out to the barn.

Has your horse developed a fondness for peach pie?

Oh, Pa, this ain't for my horse.

It's, uh... it's for a feller I met in town. I...

You put him up in the barn?

Yeah, he was sort of sick, see, Pa, and I...

Of course, we always put sick people up in the barn.

Well, he ain't exactly sick, you see.

He, uh... he had a little too much to-to eat.

That's it. He overate.

He... ate too much, yeah. Ah. Mmm.

And that's why you're bringing him some more food.

I ain't doing too well, am I?

Not so far.

Well, the truth of the matter is, Pa,

he had a little too much to drink.

Uh-huh.

No, the truth of the matter is he had way too much to drink.

He's drunk.

Hoss... Hoss, you...

Why do you always have to turn this place into a...

a home for grown-up foundlings?

Well, Pa, I couldn't just leave him in town.

Of course you couldn't leave him in town.

Any time some fella runs into town

and gets himself roaring drunk, it becomes your responsibility.

Right?

Well, it does if I bought him some of it.

Oh. Pa, it was perfectly innocent.

I-I just bought him a couple of drinks while he was recitin'.

While he was recitin'?

Well, he...

he wasn't exactly recitin'. He was...

he was telling me what a good hand he was.

That's what he was doing. Oh.

And I remember you telling us that we needed a new hand.

Wait a minute.

You didn't hire him.

Well, Pa, he had... he had awful good references.

Well, so far the only references I've heard

is that he gets drunk.

Oh, Hoss- I---...

Honestly...

Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to...

try him out, anyway.

Well, I'll, uh... I'll just take this on out to the barn...

There's one good thing about the whole situation though:

at least he's a ranch hand.

He's not one of those other strays

that you're always bringing home.

Yeah.

Oh...

Why, Little Red Riding Hood,

how kind of you not to forget your old granny.

There's some good chicken in here for you.

You didn't bring a bottle?

Look, Mr. Smith, we got to sober you up.

Why?

Because you got a job here, that's why.

I have a what?!

Well, you-you're broke, you ain't got no money,

so you must need a job.

I don't know how to do anything on a ranch!

You'll learn.

Why are you so interested in me?

Well, I sort of...

backed myself into a corner, I reckon.

I'm sort of committed to you.

What will I have to do?

Well, the first thing you got to do is sober up.

Now, go on, try some of the chicken.

It's good.

Come on.

Don't you have anything to drink?

Yep. Here you go.

Assassin!

♪♪

Pull down that shade!

Don't you know you could kill a man like that?

Well, there's one thing for dang sure, work ain't gonna kill you.

I, uh...

Oh, what happened was I-I had to move into the shade

because...

I felt a sunstroke coming on.

Yeah, I imagine that 100-proof sunstroke

must be pretty rough stuff.

Now, look, we're not paying you to sleep, you know.

Joe, you heard him.

Said he felt a sunstroke coming on.

What, you're gonna believe that?

Well, I don't see any reason why not to.

Brother, remind me to talk to you

about the Easter Bunny sometime.

Uh, your faith in human nature is refreshing.

Your, uh, brother seemed to think I was lying.

Come on, Will.

Let's face it. Let's be honest.

You got a hangover that's longer than a 20-foot log

on a ten-foot buckboard.

Well, if you think that, why did you...

Well, I'll tell you, my friend, I...

I just got a feeling that somewhere, mixed in

with all that booze and baloney, there's a man.

You're taking a lot for granted, aren't you?

Maybe I am.

Last night, in the Silver Dollar Saloon, you were a man.

Oh, you were all liquored up, all right, but...

you knew what them words was about.

You knew what they meant

and why.

So I figure, somewhere in that frame,

there's enough of a man that it's worth the trouble.

Tell you what I'm gonna do, Will...

I'm gonna set down right over there

and I'm gonna watch you chop that stump down to size,

if it takes all day and all night.

Get to choppin'.

Go on.

Well, how'd you like your first day, Smith?

No one told me that the tree stumps on the Ponderosa

were made out of stone.

Better get a move on, Smith. That's supper.

Don't mention food to me.

I'll eat your share.

♪♪

Put it back...

or I'll tear you limb from limb.

Be reasonable, Draves.

All I want is-is a little sip,

that's all, just to steady...

That's my bottle. You took it from my saddlebag.

Please, Draves.

Hand it over, Smith!

Is this what you're looking for?

That's mine, Mr. Cartwright.

He took it from my saddlebag.

Is that true?

Well...

Is it true?

Yes!

You be sure you're off the Ponderosa by morning.

Hoss...

...you don't know how bad it can get.

Yeah.

I reckon I don't, Will, but...

I know how bad you can get,

now, don't I?

The affirmation...

of man.

One rises from his chair

and confirms the affirmations of...

Well, if you would stop and think about it,

you'd realize that there has to be a certain trust

between human beings...

No more credit.

But... in a healthy economy,

there has to be a certain amount of...

give and take.

All right.

A poem then.

Now, that's another thing you and me better get straight.

I heard enough of your poems to last me forever.

But if you would just allow me to...

Look, rum bum, get out.

I'm sick of you.

No ape is going to dictate terms to me.

Eh, ugh!

I'll swindle you

within an inch of your life! Get your hands off of me!

The affirmation of man! Get him out of here!

Get him out of here! Man's affirmation...

Get your hands off me!

You fool!

I'm not a drunk!

I'm not a bum!

Never mind, Ed, I'll take care of him.

You go ahead with your laughing.

Come on, Will.

Come on.

I'm not drunk, Hoss.

I'm just... dying.

Some people refuse to accept the fact

that the human brain was never meant to be pickled in alcohol.

Yeah.

He is gonna be all right though, ain't he, Doc?

Hmm. Man's got the constitution of a horse.

And if he keeps on drinking,

he'll have the lifespan of one also.

Let's see.

Oh.

I'll need his name for the prescription.

Uh, it's Will Smith, I think.

Not according to this.

William Warlock Evans?

Evans?

Here's a letter addressed to him.

From San Francisco, from a Mrs. Lydia Evans.

That got to be his wife?

That couldn't be the one that's a poet, could it?

I don't know. I never heard of him.

William Warlock Evans is one of the most gifted young poets

this country's got.

Do you suppose that's him in there?

You know, Doc,

it just could be.

As a matter of fact,

I'll bet you it is.

Damnation!

Damnation! I've slipped in a bog!

Hey, Will. Come on. Hey...

Lay down, buddy. Relax, relax. Come on.

Stop thrashing about here.

Just relax, Will. Stay down.

Lie down and relax. Stay down and relax, buddy.

Stay down. Come on. Come on.

Now... stay there.

Where do you think I could go dressed like this?

You're feeling dizzy?

No, this is the way I always talk.

Well, I've got some sad news for you, my friend.

You're gonna have to stop drinking.

Oh, did it take you all eight years of medical school

to figure that out?

Hoss, I'll leave Mr. Evans' prescription

down with Matt Draber. Right, Doc.

You can pick it up there. Yes, sir.

You know...

I always felt...

there was a certain resemblance

between doctors and bartenders.

They both strive to remove pain.

Then they restore the agony with a bill.

Now, if they were going to be fair about it...

What did he call me?

He called you Mr. Evans.

Mr. Evans.

What are you going to do?

I don't know.

I can tell you what I'd like to do. I'd...

like to take you back to the Ponderosa and dry you out.

Why?

I don't know.

Maybe I'm a sucker, but...

I got a notion that a man like you's worth it.

And as soon as we got you on your feet again,

we can get ahold of your wife and get her out here.

No!

What do you think I'm running from?!

Look, I'd-I'd rather burn in hell through all eternity

than...

than to spend one second with that woman.

Well, that's...

that's sort of up to you, Will.

Your father wouldn't take me back, anyway.

I'm a convicted thief,

drawn and quartered.

Yeah, but...

once he finds out who you are...

No one is to know who I am.

I mean that.

I've carried the burden of being William Warlock Evans too long.

Now...

you still think you can get me that job back?

I don't know.

But...

we can try.

Well, so far, you haven't given me one valid reason.

Pa, I-I just think he needs help, that's all.

Oh, he needs help, all right.

I think we're all in agreement with that.

Hoss, I-I don't want to appear hard.

Oh, Pa, I know your point.

But, dad-burnit, I got one, too.

It ain't as easy to explain as yours, but...

Pa, if you had seen him out there today

when I picked him up, you'd know what I was talking about.

You want to hire him?

All right, you hire him,

you pay him,

you be responsible for him.

Yes, sir.

He's out there in the bunkhouse.

I think I'll go tell him right now.

That boy's just too easygoing for his own good.

I agree with you, Pa. You're absolutely right.

Got that silly notion about trying to help people.

I just don't know where he gets it from.

Your food's getting cold.

It looks like wood,

it feels like wood,

but it saws like iron.

Well, how am I doing, Professor?

Well, I'll tell you, Will, you get a...

you get an "A" for effort.

But I'm gonna have to give you an "F" for results.

Let me show you something.

Here. Don't fight it so.

Don't use just your arms.

Get your whole body in it and get you a nice rhythm.

Like that.

Well, I admit it's worked so far, but I don't think

that two weeks is gonna change Will all that much.

You said yourself that he's packing his share

of the load now, Pa. Well, sure.

That's because he doesn't stop to quote poetry

every time a leaf falls off a tree.

Yeah, I don't know if that's altogether good either.

Well, I'll tell Charlie

we'll pick the rest of this stuff up next week.

Yeah, all right.

Are you Mr. Ben Cartwright?

Yes, ma'am.

Can I help you?

I am Mrs. William Evans.

Yes, Mrs. Evans.

I've been making inquiries,

and I have reason to believe that my husband

is one of your employees.

Evans? William Evans.

Well, ma'am, we have a... we have a-a William Smith

and, uh, we have a-a Bill Perkins.

Pa, that's Will Smith that she's talking about.

Ma'am, I'm-I'm Hoss Cartwright,

and Will is out on the Ponderosa, yes.

Will Smith is really William Warlock Evans, Pa.

The poet?

I-I thought he was...

Dead. He is.

In more ways than you can imagine.

You tell... Will

that the game's over.

Ifound him.

I'm at the hotel. You can bring him there.

Well, ma'am, uh...

we can take you to him.

I've come this far, Mr. Cartwright.

Now he has to come to me.

What are you doing back so soon?

You didn't expect me to finish in two hours, I hope.

That ain't why I'm here, Will.

You know, I used to always sneer

at writers who wrote about the joy of work and nature.

Well, after today, I don't think I'll sneer anymore.

I'll throw rocks.

Will, what I... what I came to tell you was...

your wife's in town.

She wants to talk to you.

Did you send for her?

Certainly not.

Don't lie to me!

I ain't lying to you.

I ain't never lied to you, have I?

I'm getting out of here. I'm taking that horse.

Will. Will!

You run if you must,

but you ain't stealing my horse, you hear?

Well, you ain't gonna stop me.

I trusted you like I trusted her,

and you both betrayed me.

Well, I'm getting out of here!

Go ahead, kill me.

Will, I don't know what that woman done to you, but...

Why don't you kill me? I'm begging you.

You're a man. A man don't beg.

You're right.

They don't surrender either.

I'm surprised he took your horse.

That's a... new low

even for Will.

I don't rightly know what got into him, ma'am.

He simply reverted to type.

He ran.

Well, the direction he headed, up toward those mountains,

there's only one town up there--

A few Mexican families and a little cantina--

We could be up there in no time.

Did you... tell Will that I was here?

Yes'm, I did.

And you don't have the heart to tell me

it was that bad, wasn't it?

Whatever he said was foul and violent and then he left.

He ran.

Well, ma'am, it wasn't that-that Will didn't want to face you--

It was... He can't face himself, don't you see?

Well, I am tired of chasing after Will.

I have followed Will through more...

dirty little towns than I can name.

And... f-for so long that it's...

I-it's almost a habit.

Well...

well, habits can...

can be broken.

Ma'am...

ma'am, I-I don't know what went on between you and Will,

but... No.

No, you do not.

That's why you're willing to go after Will,

to try to help him again.

Well,

I won't go after Will.

I-I can't do it anymore.

0h!

Oh---...

Oh... Oh...

Will...

gave it to me on...

our fifth wedding anniversary.

"A golden brooch

"to match the golden light

in your eyes," he said.

So...

you see, Hoss...

things haven't always been like this

with Will and me.

But...

that time is... over,

and I'm going to forget about Will.

And I advise you to do the same.

Ma'am, can you do that that easy?

Easy?

I never said it was easy.

Um, I...

I have a lot of packing to do.

Would you... would you excuse me, please?

Yes'm.

He plays like a fallen angel, doesn't he, my friend?

They say Miguel was born with a guitar in his hand.

Well...

Talent is a curse,

an albatross, slung around the neck

like the last banner of defeat.

Hmm.

It enhances the thirst, my friend.

You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?

No, señor.

My friend,

of all the creatures in the world,

man is the unhappiest.

And yet you smile.

Why?

I enjoy being alive.

Let's drink to that.

Don't you think you've had enough, señor?

There's never enough

until there's oblivion.

To life.

May it last forever.

Yes.

May it keep us all warm.

Salud, señor.

Would-would you mind if I...

lowered my head for a moment, to rest my eyes?

I feel, suddenly, quite ready to...

pull down the curtain.

Señor! Señor!

Señor. Señor.

Jesus, you in there?

Estamos cerrados. We're all closed up.

Jesus, it's me, Hoss Cartwright.

0h, señor, an minuto.

Buenas noches, amigo. Buenas noches, Hoss.

Well, figures.

First saloon he came to.

Is he a friend of yours, señor?

Yeah, he's a friend.

He stole my horse.

There is a lot of sadness in this man.

See how he sleeps like a baby.

You want to take him home?

No.

Might as well let him sleep as long as he can.

You got a place to keep him?

Si, the back room.

Good.

If he wakes up before I get back, you keep him here

even if you have to hit him with a club, you hear?

Don't worry, he won't wake up.

Miguel, ayfldame.

The bags are right over...

I hate to bother you again, Mrs. Evans.

But you found Will.

Yes'm.

Did you tell him that I was leaving?

Well, I couldn't.

You see, he was asleep.

He was drunk,

wasn't he?

Yes'm.

Well, why did you come here?

Why couldn't you let me go in peace?

Well, that's just it, ma'am.

I figured if I let you leave now, that...

you'd never know another minute's peace

the rest of your life, because you still love him.

Can a woman love insults

and threats and tantrums?

No'm, I reckon not, but...

she can love the good she finds in a man

and try to help him.

I have tried.

What else can I do?

Well...

try once more.

Do you think it's really worth...

another try?

Isn't it always?

We've come to help you, Will.

Aren't I lucky

to have such a conscientious little mother?

Yep. I'd say you were at that, Will.

Look at her...

standing there, the-the symbol of martyrdom.

And she glories in it.

Don't you have anything to say to me, my love and keeper?

You see,

she's dumb literally as well as figuratively.

Well, I'm gonna say something, Will.

I'm getting pretty fed up with you picking this woman apart

when all she's trying to do is... Don't.

That's exactly what he wants,

someone to argue with,

someone to attack...

Listen to the woman!

It's the truth, Will,

and you know it.

This is the way you keep me from getting close to you,

with ridicule and insults,

just so I won't see how frightened you are.

Frightened? Me?

Dear girl--

And that's a charitable term if I ever heard one...

...I am William Warlock Evans,

and I happen to possess a writing talent

commonly acknowledged by all.

And there's not one thing in this whole flaming world

that frightens me.

Except William Warlock Evans.

She's talking in riddles.

She's talking a lot of sense, Will.

Oh... and that's your considered opinion?

Yeah.

Yes, it is.

And I'll tell you something else that's my considered opinion.

No question about it, Will, you're a great writer,

but you're something else, too.

You're pathetic.

Why, you...!

I'm all burned-out.

Even a marionette has more guts than I do.

Get him to the table.

Come on, Will.

Come on.

Sit down.

Lydia, what are you doing?

You can't fight it any longer, Will.

Well, I can't fight it for you.

So we'll forget that we're husband and wife

and we'll be married to this.

I can't pull you out of the gutter,

so I'll just crawl right in with you.

To William Warlock Evans

and his memory.

Lydia, no.

Don't do that.

You don't care what happens to yourself,

what do you care what happens to me?

For the rest of your life, Will,

I'm going to be right with you,

glass for glass and bottle for bottle.

I'm going to be a mirror that you can't escape--

A twisted, warped image--

What I've had to live with all these years.

Why do I do this to you, Lydia?

What-what kind of a man am I?

"For a man you can call a man

is a million years in one shape."

Remember that, Will?

Did you ever finish it?

I can't finish it!

Don't you understand that?!

I burned out.

I'm a shell of an artist.

Why can't you see that?

Why can't you see it?

That flame you had inside you,

it's still there-- you still got it.

You're just too close to it, that's all.

You really believe that, don't you?

The whole world believes it, Will.

That's what we're trying to tell you.

Why?

Why do you bother with me

after what I've done to you?

Because I love you.

It's as simple as that.

Take my hand, Will.

Maybe it's worth a try...

...another try, Lydia.

It always is.

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