All language subtitles for S3-E03 Deadwood - True Colors.eng

Yeah!

When did you turn recluse?

You and the Jew settled in?

The Jew's a born
fucking householder.

Scouts furniture in the fucking
catalogues morning and night.

The Mrs. Ellsworth's a 10-day miracle.

Up and about
and up and fucking doing.

Meets with fucking Hearst today,
her and fucking Ellsworth,

that I'd have thought would have
steered her fucking clear.

- Hearst's invite?
- Lady's bright idea.

I've pretext enough if you'd
have me call to dissuade her.

Don't you get in the fucking middle.

Jesus fucking Christ, Al.

She might as well set herself afire.

I can't imagine that
cocksucker got to you...

or you're folding your fucking tent.
The last shot ain't yet fired.

Stage is coming.

My God, look at Wu.

Lost his mind in San Francisco.

You think he married the nigger?

I'm talking about his suit.

Mr. Blazanov!

Mr. Merrick!

Oh God.

I am barely speaking to you.

Who the fuck is that?

A shabby shabby exit
from Virginia City.

No "Farewell, Jack."

No "By your leave." Nothing.

Did you notice I was being pursued?

Is that us over there?

That is we, my dear, yes.

I will install us momentarily.

Countess.

I stay till the costumes
come down.

Admirable.
Only the most minimal of civilities:

"Hello, how are you?"
"A bit warmer today than Tuesday."

That last may be too forgiving.

Aunt Lou!

Hey.

Good to see you.

- Hearst's meals are about to improve.
- Watch your step here, darling.

- Come on in.
- Okay.

Go away. Stay close to the Jew.
If it's Ellsworth apprising you of the widow,

let him fucking continue
and do likewise for me.

That's more fucking like it.

Very considerate of you

to come to me when
I thought I was coming to you.

As I was feeling well,
I thought you'd agree

the exercise might be beneficial.

Does your examination
confirm my suspicions?

As to how I'm feeling?

It does.

You seem fully recovered.

I'm delighted to be recovered.

And to find my own judgments reliable.

I would, however,

advise against rushing
back into things.

Would any meeting between us
be complete, Doctor,

until I'd had your counsel
against something?

Have you finished
taking the medicine I gave you?

- Implying what, Dr. Cochran?
- I'm implying nothing, Mrs. Ellsworth.

I'm putting a question to you.

I disposed of the medicine
you gave me, Dr. Cochran,

knowing I had a weakness for it,
without having finished taking it.

- I see.
- You seem incapable of crediting me

as a full and...

- normal person.
- I credit you as exactly that, madam,

which is to say as having limits
like the rest of us,

and to urge upon you the humility

of not asking more of yourself
than is reasonable.

And I'd add my observation that
refusal to make such adjustment

sometimes is symptom in women

of an inadequate recovery
from the rigors you've just endured.

- You say this as my physician?
- Yes.

- Not my reprover or rebuker?
- No.

Then thank you, Doctor.

And good morning.

You ain't getting no cobbler, Mr. Hearst,
till I get my hands on them boots.

Uh, here they come. Here they come.

Not one spoonful till I got 'em clean.

Filthy.

It's frontier living out here, Aunt Lou.

Where I go, ain't no frontier.
I bring some standards with me.

Ah...

I miss Missouri yet, Aunt Lou.

Wasn't the world
peak of ripe back then?

Didn't even the birds
seem to sing different?

- More like they meant it.
- More like they meant it. You understand.

I don't suppose you operate
another pair in secret.

You know I wouldn't fib.

I'll brush 'em up directly.

I got you living right here
in the building, Aunt Lou.

I wouldn't even think about
any other arrangements.

Mighty generous, Mr. Hearst.
Mighty brave.

- Will you take a walk, see the camp?
- I'll take a walk as far as my kitchen.

I should have known you'd say that.

- You want that peach cobbler, don't you?
- I do for a fact.

And they know downstairs who's boss.

Is this here a rich place, Mr. Hearst?

Oh, very very rich, Aunt Lou.

For pure scale,

maybe the richest find I've seen.

Guess we can live
without them birds then.

The high points of the fucking
high points of your trip, Wu.

'Cause I won't be able
to follow you anyway.

Wu. San Francisco.

You look like a fucking idiot,

if no one has yet conveyed
to you the truth.

Wu, San Francisco, Hearst.

Yeah, you in San Francisco,

collecting workers for Hearst.

Ho.

How soon, fucking Wu?

The many Chinks
in Hearst's employ?

Huh?

Hello hello hello hello!

The many Chinks here, huh?!

How soon?

Ah!

10 day.

"10-Day Wu."

Clever cocksucker. You come back
with more fucking English.

Ho.

Now once I get my ducks in order,

you will give your information
to Hearst in a sit-down,

so we can gauge
his attitude toward me.

Wu, Hearst, Swedgin.

Swedgin must act as translator,

as he is the only one in camp

versed in both languages.

Ho.

Chung Kuo. Am I right
or am I fucking wrong?

- Chung Kuo.
- Chung Kuo, heng dai.

- Heng dai.
- Heng dai, Chung Kuo.

And I'll tell you when
the meeting is, huh?

Welcome home, Wu.

Mmm.

It's arrogance,
nothing more to goddamn less.

Do not use profanity,
please, speaking to me.

For goodness sake.

Apologizing for my language,

I ask you consider my meaning.

It hardly seems arrogant to me

to seek an equitable and mutually
beneficial resolution with Mr. Hearst.

Then spare him that paper
with your pretty ideas.

Tell him your price
for how much you'll sell,

because Hearst don't
let his partners set policy.

I hadn't realized you were so intimate
with his business methods.

Please don't be smart with me.
Not about this.

"This," Mr. Ellsworth,
being the question of my mine?

Well, what in the hell else would it be?!

Excuse me.

I will meet with Mr. Hearst.

I'll be delighted if you should
choose to accompany me.

Oh, I ain't one to miss a train wreck.

Though if you cannot forbear
from patronizing me,

I'd prefer you didn't come at all.

All right, Mrs. Ellsworth, all right.

Empty.

You sure you don't want me
to work behind here, boss?

If I wanted you working behind here,

you'd be fucking working behind here.
Fucking work over there.

It occurs to me, Al, as you and he

are so evidently well-acquainted,

the decent interval that Mr. Langrishe
is owed to make his domestic arrangements

I might spend hearing you talk of him.

Ever wonder if you
expressed yourself more directly,

Merrick, you might fucking weigh less?

I see no logic in that whatever.

I don't want to talk of Langrishe.
He makes me fucking nervous.

On what account?

I can't say on what account.
That type, the type you don't know

exactly how you feel about him
is who you're made nervous by.

Young man!

Keeping the wolf away, I see.

Jack.

John Langrishe, sir.
The operator has the manners of a pig.

AW Merrick, Mr. Langrishe,
publisher of "The Deadwood Pioneer."

Ah! Accounting for the halo
I see above you.

Shit blizzard's early today.

He takes his tone with you as a familiar.

Oh, we're well-acquainted,
Mr. Swearengen and I.

Mmm, new friends, old campaigners.

The infrequent bloody win.

Always superfluous, bloodshed.

The deeper damage is best.

Ahh!

Candidly, Richardson,

as I imagine you foraging
for berries and grubs,

and flicking at insects
with your sticky tongue,

I feel a certain dismay.

What are you talking about?

You are to be discharged, fool.

As, I suspect in a wink of time,

once some stage
from a different direction

arrives with my replacement, am I.

What did we do wrong?

Your error, surprisingly enough,

is not to be a grotesque

of inconceivable stupidity,

but that you are white and male

and not repulsively obese.

As for my own,

I wonder if it lies

in an excessive courtesy

and eagerness to please.

Shoo, skunk. Shoo.
Go go.

Mr. Hearst.

Farnum, have you
a moment for us to talk?

I do.
I'd ask only that you be brief

and forbear from false camaraderie.

Come, Hearst, I've seen the Ethiop.

Who indeed could miss her?

And even as she supplants Richardson,
what person, I wonder,

of what depraved exotic origin

have you engaged to take my place?

I hadn't thought of replacing you.
Do you want me to?

The world begins to dance
before my eyes.

As for Richardson, Aunt Lou
will be taking his position,

but he can keep doing
whatever else it is that he does

with no reduction in wage.

What a surprising and gratifying turn.

Paid through Tuesday.
That one's paid through Thursday.

Having secured your approval
as to my hiring plans,

I wonder now if I might elicit
the information I came for,

which is in regard to Mrs. Ellsworth.

I am abjectly at your disposal.

For some time,

without the unseemliness
of approaching her directly,

I have sought without success

to generate a connection
with Mrs. Ellsworth.

A haughty cunt.
Formerly weak for dope.

Most fundamentally a sexual peccant,
though I'm sworn against providing specifics.

Now, as it seems of her own volition,

Mrs. Ellsworth appoints to meet with me,

leading me to wonder what change

in her situation prompts her approach.

I will look into that, sir,
vigorously and immediately.

- You don't know.
- I do not know at present.

Just send her up when she get here.

I can seek the knowledge out.
I can pursue it as a first priority.

Just send her the fuck up!

All right, sir. And may I say...

how delighted I am
our relation is to continue?

- Why don't you see to your type?
- Excuse me?

Type. Don't you use type
to print out your words?

Uh, well, I'd hoped to secure
from Mr. Langrishe...

I want copious discourse between us,
Mr. Merrick. Where shall I find you soon?

- We could speak now if you wish.
- No, not now, young man.

Not immediately.

But soon. Very very soon.

Where is your lair,
that I may beard you?

My lair adjoins The Gem.

- Wonderful.
- I can be bearded there most hours.

Fine.

Thank you very much.
Thank, uh... very nice to meet you, sir.

The camp is lucky to have you.

- Uh, no way, actually, you can know that.
- Go on there, Merrick. Get away.

Oh, incessant and unrelenting,

exactly that type of banter.

I'll just go out the front.

You know, I could go
out that way, but I...

I'll...

You're looking fucking well, Jack.

It's the learning fucking nothing, Al,

that keeps me young.

Please. I hope you'll
forgive the disarray.

I seem to feel a greater priority

about making space for myself

than adorning the space I've made.

- Refreshments?
- No.

I must say I feel

less the grown man just now

than a boy from Missouri.

My Aunt Lou Marchbanks

has come to camp.

- Is your aunt's visit a surprise?
- No.

Heavens no, no.

Expecting my stay to be brief,

I left her at other diggings.

Your Aunt Lou prospects too?

- My aunt's my nigger cook.
- I see.

Wonderful wonderful cook. And a tyrant,
of course, as the best ones always are.

I quite quake before her.

- Do you?
- About our conversation too,

wanting so awfully much
we come to an agreement.

Don't disappoint him,
being as he's 12 with his aunt in camp.

I've learned that we shared time
in the Comstock, Mr. Ellsworth.

- I'm sorry we didn't meet.
- Whatever's toward what he wants.

Not a flying fuck if it's true
or how fucking soaked in blood.

- That talk serves no purpose.
- What talk to a murderer does?

I'd not be insulted
in my own rooms, Mr. Ellsworth.

Where shall we go for me to do it?

Will you be in this afternoon,
Mr. Hearst?

- There's bodies in here.
- I certainly can be.

The walls are down to make room
for 'em. I see every fucking one!

- Perhaps we could speak later then.
- I will look forward to that.

You don't look forward
to nothing far as her,

you murdering cocksucker.
You hear me?

I'm very glad to have met you.

I recognize,

perhaps as I never fully
recognized before,

how profoundly you feel about him.

I know him.

I will present my offer to him.

You will not. I will not permit it.

You behave in his rooms

as virtually a maniac

and now assert
your superior prerogative?

I forbid you, yes.

Well, I suppose that settles it.

I know him.

May I ask you to collect Sofia

once you've seen me home?

Do you understand?
In ways you can't.

Mr. Ellsworth, you hardly need
explain yourself to me,

your wife, in the thoroughfare,

having once laid down the law.

Hey. Look at me!

Talk to me.

He said they come up in cage.

The guard was behind Jory.

The guard wait for air change.
First breath from above,

he push Jory to the wall,
catch his legs and cut them off.

He saw it?

Jory was organizing.
That's why they push him to the wall.

- We're awful sorry.
- Get the fuck away from him!

Get out of here.
Go ahead. Get on.

Accident.

Another friend, he says,
was shot 10 days ago in bar.

At The Gem.

The friend talked union too.

Jory and him were in the bar
when he was shot.

Now they're dead.
Pasco says he'll be next.

Tell them they can go
when they're done crying.

Make them understand
I was only talking to him.

Hole in the building's front wall,

he can pop out at any moment.

Hearst.

I'd not have him see us together.

Prudent.

Ah, bacon.

Might have a bit
of a human aftertaste.

Lurid with Chinese.

No one suggests a theater here.

Only observing, turning you outward.

Boss of the neighborhood.

Won a war to take over.

One hopes you are his backer
and not his tailor.

You're the first I've fucking
revealed this to.

Fucking throbs all the way up.

Goes with me to the grave.

Yeah.

You fucking tip
your hat to everybody?

Everybody.

Morning.

We're low on our hardware,
just doing the order.

Dogs...

for him to laugh at
while we chase our tails.

I'm gonna write it up anyway...
Hearst's phony fucking accident.

I'm gonna present it to him

and put him on notice.

I'm concerned
about Mrs. Ellsworth, Trixie.

If concerned means
"Is she using?"...

I don't think she is.

- I don't either.
- Then why'd you ask if she was?

I didn't. You just took me
for asking that.

Ask the one you want to then.

I'm concerned that
her temperament is...

...is labile.

I guess that means
she's talking through her cunt?

Her moods seem

inappropriately variable.

Saying "variable,"

I don't disagree.

I said so myself this morning
to somebody else.

Did I fucking embarrass you, Doc,
that you'd go so fucking red?

Don't throw a fit, Doc.
Look, I'll put it out.

This is new.

This entire area

is recent.

The Ellsworth house,

richest claim next to Hearst,
that woman.

What sort of plays does she favor?

Oh, Christ, she told me
and I fucking forgot.

Goes through her men
like Sherman to the fucking sea.

This...

can't remember who
this fucking belongs to.

And who does this fucking belong to?

Well, I guess this belongs
to fucking everybody.

The Bullock house. Fucking sheriff.

Insane fucking person.

The one at Swearengen's too

I'll put him on notice about.

I'm gonna put him on notice about it all.

Wouldn't be looking for anyone coming
through the wall to deal with your Johnson.

And don't you try fucking coming
to my side either,

or your Jew head will be wearing
that fucking dresser as a tiara.

All right.

We're supposed to read your mind,
understand what you fucking mean.

I mean...

all right.

Shut the fuck up.

"Please don't smoke" means
"I'm at death's fucking door."

You can smoke.

I'd prefer...

if you did it outside.

You're a fucking idiot, anyways.

Pus is a deeper yellow.

Aw, cocksucker.

What are you fucking staring at?
Fucking boot fits, huh?

Home base, young man.

There's the whole fucking area
on the other side.

I'm quite worn out.

I fucking started this job,
I'll fucking finish it.

This motherfucker.

Al...

it's not the first
impression I'd make.

Heartfelt thanks.

With such disagreement
among the statements, Mr. Bullock,

on what basis could an inquiry
justifiably go forward?

I put you on notice, Mr. Hearst,

I identify a pattern in these events.

Unless some law
is broken, Mr. Bullock,

whose sanctions
you have power to apply,

why in fuck should I care

what pattern you identify or don't?

There is a sanction against murder.

The man lost his legs in a shaft.
It happens quite often.

I now learn that your worker
who died in The Gem last week

- was killed by two of your guards.
- I defy you to prove that event

about which the two of us
have spoken was murder.

Whereas in the same
saloon nine days ago,

two guards of mine,
giving no provocation,

had their throats cut

with two others of
my guards as witness.

Certainly, the guards who survive
are capable of naming the killers.

Shall I have them make complaint?

I put you on notice.

Many new people are
in the camp, Mr. Merrick.

And a very eventful time we had

during your absence, Mr. Blazanov.

You and I will have much to discuss

in our evening perambulations.

Oh God.

Okay. Main line coil,

artificial line coil...

new armature lever,

separate battery, supplementaries.

All new contrivances
I was instructed about in Chicago.

Without this many innovations,

differential duplex
would not be possible.

Differential duplex?

Can you speak in
a high voice, Mr. Merrick?

I could speak in a low voice.

Blazanov then will speak in high voice.

Keep speaking on in your low voice

while Blazanov at the same time
speaks highly. This is duplex telegraphy.

From this point on,
I shall speak in my low voice.

Both messages sent at the same time...

Excuse me, but I can't understand
you when we both talk at once.

...and recorded elsewhere by instruments

with appropriate sensitivities.

Well, I... I won't keep you
from your work.

- Mr. Merrick?
- Hmm?

I met a girl in Chicago.

Oh, yes?

Also for our...

perambulations.

Hmm.

Yeah.

Seeing you on your balcony
the other night, Mr. Tolliver,

taking in the life of the camp, I thought
maybe it was time we had a talk.

I regret we have to meet
in this environment, sir.

- Not at all.
- No.

Changes that have gone on here,
it's not the place I'd be seen in by you.

I'm sure whatever changes you allude to
will come clear from your behavior.

Fresh start.

How many men would
be grateful for that opportunity?

Do you have more you wish to do with that,
or shall I state my business?

Please, state your business.

Your letter from Mr. Wolcott

naming me as having knowledge
of his misdeeds.

A letter I mentioned to you,

yes, in a conversation I regret.

5% of my holdings I recall as your demand
or you would circulate the letter's contents.

Exactly what I regret
and now find reprehensible.

And why I thank God
that you take a new look at me.

To this point, Mr. Tolliver, you make
no materially different impression.

Still lying, still bullshitting.

I hope I'm not, sir, but I...

I can certainly understand why that would be
your material second impression.

Shall I show you the letter from Mr. Wolcott
that I have in my possession?

That's not necessary
from my point of view.

You tell me you've got it,
I believe you.

Here it is. Will you compare it
to your letter?

- Verify its authenticity?
- It's not necessary.

Shall I read to you certain
pertinent sections

on Wolcott's assay of your nature

and likely behavior after his death?

His detailing your complicitous participation
in the aftermath of his crimes...

disposing of the bodies and so forth?

You have no letter
from Wolcott, Mr. Tolliver.

Let's say that's the case.

I just did. Let's hear you say it.

I have no letter from Mr. Wolcott.

- Never did.
- I never did have one.

You're a lying, blackmailing sack of shit.

What do you want?

I want you to go to work for me.

How was your walk?

I seemed to get around adequately.

Seemed to get along with that dandy.

Yeah, he's all right.

Theater fella, huh?

Langrishe?

He's a fucking promoter of the first
fucking quality, I can tell you that.

I don't go to plays so I can't speak
to his worth as an actor.

Ahh... Tuesdays...

he'll tend to have amateur nights.

Been to plenty of those.
Virginia City...

guy farted seemed near an hour.

Well, that don't sound like no amateur.

- Bullock.
- Tell that Chinaman

when I want admission to his meat locker,
it behooves him to fucking cooperate.

- What did he do instead?
- Said "Swedgin" and barred my way.

Had you eyes to select your own cut?

Are you gonna fuck with me?

I had eyes for the Cornishman
killed in here last week.

I explained it to him,
and he goddamn understood me.

Did he mosey over to a corner,
lift up a fucking tarp?

Yeah, he went to the tarp.

That's what the croaker was under.

That's our nook in Wu's structure.

Why Wu delayed cooperating,

he hadn't known the croaker
was under there.

His stupid suit so overcome me

it slipped my mind to tell him.

I want that body.

I'll see Wu hands it over.

Hearst just had another Cornish killed
at his diggings for trying to organize.

They're calling that one an accident.

What makes you think any good

will come of confronting Hearst now?

Now is when he's killing people.

- What, you feel he'll leave off soon?
- Tactics and timing ain't the issue.

The hell you say.

If his pigs get that body,

Wu is their next fucking meal.

You make him understand.

Chez Amis.

Cooperage.

I'm watering these
kids' vegetables.

We don't do the other anymore.

Very good.

Lovely building.

- Sturdy?
- Get away now.

I apologize for
the awkwardness

between you and my husband.

My dear Phoebe... Mrs. Hearst...
like your Mr. Ellsworth,

while pleasantly conversable
on most subjects,

finds others not to suit her at all.

Will you hear my offer, Mr. Hearst?

Of course.

I am willing to sell to you

a 49% ownership in my claim,

in return for... and here,

of course, I am out of my depth...

but for the sake of
beginning a negotiation,

I'll say 5% of your holdings in the Hills?

You would have an easement
through my holdings

for the transport of your ore,
unqualified in any regard

except that it not
impede my mining operation.

Naturally, at a separate fee,

I would wish access to transport
for my own ore.

Have you finished?

I have, yes.

Your proposal is thoughtful,

but I'm afraid I lack the qualities

that minority participations require.

As I said, these are
the most preliminary thoughts...

A vulgar man would ask
before preceding any further

if you would require him
to produce his jackknife

and make himself a capon before you.

What in my ideas

do you find emasculating?

I can offer no inside explanations,

Mrs. Ellsworth, as I am not a capon,

which details offend me and why.

Your proposal offends completely.

It mistakes my nature absolutely.

All right.

Will you hear my counterproposal?

- I think not, sir.
- Do hear it, Mrs. Ellsworth.

Let me name an amount to buy you out.

I will not hear it, Mr. Hearst.

Let me out.

Shall I scream?

The hour makes
the thoroughfare uncertain.

Will you have an escort

until your dear home's lights
appear before you?

No.

You are reckless, madam.

You indulge yourself.

Stand your watch.
I'll... I'll get this part later.

Everything fixed to your liking, folks?

Wonderful. Thank you.

Have you supped
sumptuously?

- Actually, we have.
- I'm delighted. Countess?

- Costumes were damp.
- Oh dear. Are you drying them?

You are, of course.

I am tedious beyond bearing to ask.

A newly rakish tilt?

Cheyenne and Black Hills
Telegraph Company.

Telegram for Mr...

"Langinshire."

- Langrishe!
- Langrishe.

I am he.

- Telegram.
- Yes.

Wait.

- Thank you.
- Very welcome.

What did you give?

- A dollar.
- Too much.

Chesterton and Bellegarde
are in transit from Cheyenne.

Having "suffered
the tortures of the damned"?

"Endured indescribable
inconvenience."

"The damned" was from Fort Kearney.

I shall take the air.

Shall I accompany you?

My destination is beneath you.

At least something would be.

Good evening.

Good evening.

- Madam.
- Sir.

Wonderful food!

We got fish and we got ham,

and don't pay no attention to the menu.

The thought I'd put into it,

all the time I took to write it out

and put it by and look again.

I began to read to him my proposal,

but I was more and more afraid

I was only chanting sounds.

Finally, I made myself

look to him to confirm that I was

speaking intelligently
and being understood.

Now you know.

He grinned at me like a jackal.

This is what I would have spared you.

He scorned my offer.

He said I mistook
his nature absolutely.

- You did.
- Yes.

And was there more?

After the jackal smiled?

It seemed very possible that

there could be,
but finally he let me go.

He had restrained you?

I was very afraid.

I can't say with any certainty
exactly what was happening.

What the hell do you mean?

Did you try to leave,
and did he prevent you?

Don't use that tone of voice with me.

Well, I guess I know
what that means.

Oh, do you, Mr. Ellsworth?

That you're a goddamn fool
who almost got what she deserved.

And what would that have been?

And why would I have deserved it?

I only wanted to protect you.

You can't.

Mmm.

I wish you'd eat that
outside, Mr. Hearst.

- I wanted to be sure you have all you need.
- And more besides.

And now you done
seen for yourself.

I really don't care what
others think of me, Aunt Lou.

And you need only care what I think.

God, I hate these camps...
all this deferring and adjusting

to others' wrong-headed stupidities.

I must have missed where they
was better in San Francisco.

They're not. They're worse.

Can't bear San Francisco.

Don't let Mrs. Hearst
hear you saying that.

Aw, she knows, she knows.

She knows why
I always leave so quickly.

Goddamn truth is I'd rather
be off by myself, Aunt Lou,

free to do my work.

Boy-the-Earth-Talks-To.

- That's your Indian name.
- That's right. You remember.

That's the only goddamn conversation
I care to have,

her telling me where to dig into her.

Wonderful.

Thank you, sir.

I haven't ate potatoes
quite that smooth.

I don't know if I ever
had 'em that smooth.

These elections can't be a joke.

More tail-chasing for him
to laugh at us about.

Hearst?

The offices have
to count for something.

How will you work that?

- Laws.
- Jesus Christ!

Excuse me.

Seems like one way more
for his kind to run us...

laws do.

Who will have strawberries?

I hope you'll
take it as measure

of my keenness, sir, and curiosity.

Yes yes yes, Mr. Tolliver.

You wish to know
your duties in my service.

Well, I make my way through
the muck to learn the details.

Your duties will be to answer

like a dog when I call.

Like a dog?

Complications of intention

on your part in dealings with me

or duplicity or indirection...

behavior, in short,
which displeases me

will bring you
a smack on the snout.

Ouch.

When administered by
a practiced hand, such a blow can be

more painful and grievous even

than your recent sufferings.

I don't doubt the hand
would be practiced.

Mr. Swearengen recently
discovered as much.

I gather it cost him a finger.

But I should say too

that in these rooms
just this afternoon

such displeasure brought me
near to murdering the sheriff

and raping Mrs. Ellsworth.

I have learned through
time, Mr. Tolliver,

and as repeatedly seem to forget

that whatever temporary comfort

relieving my displeasure brings me,

my long-term interests suffer.

My proper traffic is with the earth.

In my dealings with people

I ought solely have to do with niggers

and whites who obey me like dogs.

If he hadn't meant me to wag it, sir,

why would the Lord give me a tail?

So I make you
my second deputy,

you clever little
heathen monkey tongue.

You stand there, Richardson.
You're lucky for Aunt Lou.

Don't shy away
from a little noise now.

See, I speak your stuff.

You savvy? Clatter them
goddamn sparrows.

"I love your cobbler like sunset, Lou,"

and back-broke niggers in the fields.

George Hearst?

He do love his nose in a hole more,

and ass in the air
and back legs kickin' out

little lumps of gold
like a fucking badger.

No more use
for them nuggets either,

past counting them up

and saying that big number
to astonish niggers

to remind us we in the world.

Hah!

I seem to have won.

That's the 13 orphans natural.

Shall we clatter them
motherfuckers again?

Strange affectations
your devil friend has...

shabby appearance, derelict hotel.

Put the hole through that wall
just before he worked on my hand.

Americans...

it never occurs to them
to try the window.

I'll tell you the truth.

I begin to wonder if I mightn't
be fucking queer.

You see more to admire
in the male asshole than you'd...

realized hitherto?

That I haven't gone yet
for Hearst's throat.

Ambition and the blessed
simplicities of action

don't always quarter in comfort.

I've no fucking ambition
past trading

to my favor and coming...

once a day.

Bullshit!

A thing of this order

you'd as soon not see ruined
or in cinders.

I will if I fucking have to.

Avoiding it if I could.

Good night, Al.

Good night.

Few enough I find tolerable.

Lucky our paths
have crossed again.

Don't misinterpret that.

All right, Jack.

♪ Baby's back ♪

♪ Dressed in black ♪

♪ Silver buttons
up and down the back ♪

♪ High, low ♪

♪ Tippy toe ♪

♪ She broke the needle,
she can sew ♪

- ♪ Walking the dog ♪
- ♪ Walk ♪

- ♪ Just a-walking the dog ♪
- ♪ Just walking the dog ♪

♪ Oh, if you don't know how to do it,
I will show you how to walk the dog ♪

♪ Now let's walk that dog ♪

- ♪ Walking the dog ♪
- ♪ Walk ♪

- ♪ Walking the dog ♪
- ♪ Just walking the dog ♪

♪ Oh, if you don't know how to do it,
I will show you how to walk the dog ♪

♪ Oh, if you don't know how to do it,
I will show you how to walk the dog ♪

♪ I will show you
how to walk that dog. ♪