All language subtitles for Maverick S02E18

It's you that I've been
in love with all along.

Lydia, I don't deserve you.

Bret, you once did me the honor
of asking me to become your wife.

Let's have a very quiet wedding.

Maverick.

Starring James
Garner and Jack Kelly.

Produced by Warner Bros.

From the entertainment
capital of the world...

produced for television
by Warner Bros.

- Denver.
- Hope Springs.

Awful big money in
that Denver game.

Bart, all the really big money
is in Hope Springs this season.

- You wanna be a drifter all your life?
- Mm-mm.

Remember what Pappy used to say.

"Early to bed and early to rise is
the curse of the working classes."

At the Great Western Hotel even
the maids don't get up until noon.

Bret, we're just
simple country boys.

Those eastern millionaires
will show you no mercy.

Mm, thank you.

I think you ought to know,
this fellow is cheating you.

Of course he is, it's his deal.

What name do you plan on using?

I kind of like the
name Bret Maverick.

Well, they won't. Bret,
you can't get into the casino.

You can't even get into the hotel
unless your name is Vanderbilt...

Vandergelt, Stuyvesant or Aster.

Bart, in the bright
lexicon of youth...

there is no such
word as "can't."

Next station stop is Denver.

Denver next.

I wish you all the luck in the
world. You're gonna need it.

- Hold the thought, heh.
- Heh.

Is it true what he said?

Probably not. What?

That you can't get in at Hope Springs
unless your name is Vanderbilt...

Vandergelt, Stuyvesant or Aster.

That's the way
old folks tell it.

I don't believe it.

- You are not one of those names, are you?
- No.

- I'm just getting over a bad cold.
- Oh.

- How are you going to get in?
- I don't know yet.

I wanna surprise myself.

Heh, well, I'm sure you'll
have no trouble at all.

Well, if you're gonna be around
we can make a little bet on it.

By George, I will make you a bet. Do
you have luggage with your initials on it?

Elegant luggage. Bought it in St.
Louis especially for the occasion.

Good.

I'll bet you a hundred dollars that if I
take your name and you take mine...

I can get into the Great Western
Hotel every bit as easily as you.

Oh, what makes you think your name
will impress them anymore than mine?

Mine's Vandergelt.

Get your bets down.

I'm afraid without
a reservation...

Oh.

A corner suite
on the third floor.

And if it isn't exactly
what you want...

Uh, take Mr. Vandergelt's
luggage to Suite 300.

Maverick?

Uh, Maverick.

Oh. Well, I'm afraid we have
nothing for you, Mr. Maverick.

Now, look here, my man, I...
- Ahem.

Mr. Maverick is with me.

Oh? Oh.

Oh, yes, heh. Yes, indeed, sir.

What are you standing around
for? Take Mr. Maverick's luggage.

You know, it's, uh, a good
feeling having influential friends.

- But I'd rather be what I am.
- What's that?

A simple, uncouth Texas
gambler named Maverick.

Well, I'm afraid there
can't be two of me here.

And I've sort of grown
attached to the name.

If it's good enough for the desk
clerk, it's good enough for me.

Heh, Bret, my boy, it's good
enough for the desk clerk...

only because a
Vandergelt says it is.

If you wanna stay here, you'll
have to stay as John Vandergelt III.

That bland stupid look
is deceptive, isn't it?

You've got something up that
Brooks Brother sleeve of yours.

And you're planning to use me.

Now you're beginning to
think like a Vandergelt, shrewd.

Well, whatever you're up
to, you can count me out.

Suppose I start by counting
you out, say, a thousand dollars.

If you're here next week, and
being a good little millionaire...

there will be another
thousand and so forth.

That should do something
for your sturdy peasant pride.

Oh, what makes you
think you can buy me?

Heh, my dear fellow, I don't want to buy
you. I simply want to rent you for a while.

A thousand a week
plus your hotel bill.

And all you have to do is simper
back at the snobs who simper at you.

Well, suppose some
of them don't simper.

There must be somebody
here that knows you.

Not likely. I've been in England
for the last seven years, heh.

What about the seven
years before that?

If the situation arises, just face up to it
with your usual disarming dishonesty.

Yes, sir. Anything else, sir?

Oh, yes, if any
mail comes for me...

that'll be your beloved father Brigadier
Archibald Vandergelt checking up on us.

He thinks we're here
picking out a wife.

Why are we here?

Oh, you're here to gamble.
Heh, myself, I never do.

Mr. Vandergelt!

Mr. Vandergelt, you probably don't
know me from Adam's housecoat...

but I'm Mrs. Chauncey George
Mallaver from Philadelphia.

We meet years ago at a party that
I gave for the Grand Duke Alexis.

You were mere a boy.

My, you're looking extremely
well. Where's your father?

Uh, he couldn't make it.

Oh, well, you're here. And
half a loaf is as good as a mile.

Since you're here, you
must let me take you in tow.

This place is simply teaming
with predatory females.

And their mothers.

Come along with me and
meet some nice young ladies.

Lydia, my dear, we
can go further, you and I.

Why does it always gets
so stuffy this part of the day?

Look what I found.

My niece, Miss Lynley, Miss
Marshal and Mr. Lucius Benson...

whom I'm sure you already know.
Everybody knows Lucius Benson.

This is my very dear
friend John Vandergelt III.

Oh.

How do you do?

As a matter of fact,
Mr. Vandergelt and I have not met.

- Uh, won't you sit down?
- Oh, well, thank you.

Oh, thank you.

I suspect Mr. Vandergelt finds
society in America rather provincial...

after the courts and watering
places of Europe, hmm?

- How utterly unfortunate.
- Actually, it is.

New York society is being
taken over by people...

who have nothing but money.
Oh, I'm not a snob, mind you.

Actually, I'm quite democratic.

I've always said that
four generations...

can make a gentlemen just
as easily as 40 can, haven't I?

Indeed, you have.

So many people who
should be leading society...

simply won't take any great
part in the daily routine of it.

In fact, Vandergelt, that's
my only criticism of you.

You know how it is, Benson,
you keep putting things off.

- Was that gentleman nodding at you?
- I'm afraid he was.

It's refreshing to see a
high-society loafer reading a book.

Well, this one is a
low-society loafer.

Oh? Who is he?

Oh, a roving, no-good Texas gambler, his
name is Maverick or something like that.

He, uh...

- He's not society?
- He's barely humanity.

"The violent, unequal
throbbing of her heart...

which beat visibly and audibly
under the excess of agitation.

I'm not wishing you greater
torment than I have, Heathcliff.

I only wish us
never to be parted."'

Oh, I cannot stand
that horseradish cream.

You can't stand
the freckles either.

And that. East Lynne.

Oh, really, my dear child, your behavior
this afternoon was rather spectacular.

You were not only rude
again to Mr. Benson...

who has been courting
you for two years.

Aunt Celia, so long as I
have money and position...

Mr. Benson wouldn't
mind if I wore a beard.

You could do far worse
than marry Lucius Benson.

Not without a lot of
thought and effort.

You were also very cool
to young Vandergelt...

who is not only going to inherit $12
million invested at 25 percent a year...

but who is also quite
comfortably fixed in his own right.

At the risk of repeating
myself, Aunt Celia...

I'm more than satisfied
with the money I've got.

Isn't $7 million enough?

What are you staring at?
Surely you've seen books before.

The Courtship of Miles Standish.

- Fern Leaves from Fanny's Portfolio.
- Heh.

I'm essentially quite
romantic, you know.

If you would like to borrow one of those,
let me recommend, uh, Wuthering Heights.

Delightful. Star-crossed
lovers on a windswept moor.

Or this one. A Tale of Two
Cities by Charles Dickens.

Oh, it's about a chap
name Sydney Carton...

who falls madly in love with a girl but
she marries some French blue blood.

And what do you suppose
this chap Carton does?

He takes her husband's place on
the guillotine so she won't feel badly.

- He dies for love.
- That's a very nice gesture.

Indeed it is, Bret. You don't
find people like that anymore.

I don't.

- Van...
- Hmm?

I'm not expected to die for
that thousand a week, am I?

Heh, I wouldn't let you
do a thing like that, Bret.

What sort of a monster
do you think I am?

You were asking about the
casino, Mr. Vandergelt. It's open now.

Well, good. Save me a place.

Oh, put it on the table, please. I have
more important things to think about.

Oh, by the way, that Miss Lynley
you've been baiting with books?

I rather like her myself
and I saw her first.

Oh, not at all, I
saw her months ago.

That's why I'm here.
That's why you're here.

Oh?

I suppose you'll
want an introduction.

Oh, thank you. No, I refuse to ride
on the coattails of my wealthy friends.

- I wanna be loved for myself alone.
- You'll need a lot of help on that.

Tell me what can I do for you.

Oh, precisely what
you're doing now.

Go on frisking about in
the pursuit of happiness.

See as much of the
girl as you possibly can.

- Try to sweep her off her feet, dear boy.
- Why?

Oh, first of all, because you
haven't a chance with her.

Secondly, because the
more she sees of you...

heh, the better I'm
gonna look to her.

Hi there, girly, does your
mother know you're out?

Tsk, tsk, that's the kind of
dolly I want for Christmas.

- Run along, little boys. VAN:
One moment there, my friends.

Oh, run along, my man.
Nobody sent for you.

Think that money
and blue blood...

gives you the right to annoy
young ladies on the streets?

Suppose this girl
were your sister.

- Ah, we didn't mean any harm.
- No harm indeed.

Is this what you learn in your
fashionable finishing schools?

I may be poor, but I know
how to respect womanhood.

Oh.

Bret Maverick at
your service, ma'am.

If it's not presumptuous, may
I offer to see you safely home?

Mr. Maverick, I should
deem it an honor.

Anything for a classmate, eh?

It's something you Harvard
men wouldn't understand.

Vandergelt.

- I'm told you're Jack Vandergelt.
- Yes.

Yes. And you're
not Jack Vandergelt.

Because I went to Groton
with Jack Vandergelt.

Of course you did.

And you haven't
changed a bit, have you?

I haven't?

Oh, boy, uh, you told
Mr. Maverick I had to see him?

When he and Miss Lynley
came in from riding this morning.

- And?
- He said he couldn't get in touch...

with you because they
only had time for lunch.

Then they had to go
riding out to Lover's Leap.

- I thought that was yesterday.
- Oh, no, sir.

Yesterday was the
caves with the row boat.

Row boat?

It's quite simple to me.

If one station wagon isn't enough, then
send two station wagons for the trunks.

Don't stand there
trapping flies.

You clear the rooms and
have them rearranged.

I want a direct telegraph connection
installed between now and dinnertime.

Oh, Mr. Vandergelt.

Oh, fill it out yourself.
You know who I am.

- Oh, yes. Yes, indeed, sir.
- I'll need the second floor rear.

Eight rooms. Make it nine.

And absolute quite at
all times. Is that clear?

Indeed, sir. And you'll
be wanting to see your...

If I want to see anybody, I'll tell
you. What's that woman's name, now?

Uh, Mallaver, sir. Uh, Mrs.
Chauncey George Mallaver.

Yes, Suite 318.

I'll want my bath at 6:30 and tell
the governor he can come up at 7.

- And young Mr. Van...?
- Have him report to me at 5:00 sharp.

- Oh, Mr. Vandergelt.
- Yes?

- He wants to see at 5.
- Mr. Maverick? No, sir. Him. Your father.

Wine makes me drowsy, thank
you. But I will have a drop of this.

Death and destruction, madam.

- You were saying, brigadier?
- Uh, yes.

I've investigated your
niece's financial condition...

her health, her pedigree
and her education.

I'm inclined to believe she's
just what I have in mind.

And what do you
have in mind, brigadier?

- Marriage.
- Oh.

Well, of course, you realize that
you're old enough to be her father.

Father-in-law.

- You have seen my son, Jack, I suppose.
- Oh, we've met.

Promising boy, little rattle brain,
disorganized, slow to settle down.

- I can say much the same about my niece.
- Good.

Then we'll marry them off to each other and
that will knock the nonsense out of both.

Well, are we in business?

Business? Oh, yes. Oh,
yes, indeed, we are, heh.

- He's here.
- He?

Our father. And he wants
to see his son at 5:00.

Hmm, then, in this case, it
might be better if I see him.

- You'd be rather badly bruised.
- Trouble?

- Well, it's no place or weaklings.
- Well, you take care of yourself, fella.

You mean an awful lot to me.

Oh, nonsense. A thousand
dollars a week isn't that much.

Come in.

- Father.
- My son.

It's good to see you once more.

You are looking well. Westchester
does something for you.

I have to face
it, my boy, I'm...

- I'm getting old.
- Nonsense, Father.

You haven't faced it so far.
Why start brooding about in now?

Jack, I've been thinking
about your future.

About your being able to take
care of yourself after I'm gone.

I don't mean this
as a reproach...

but when I was your age, I already
owned my first steamship line.

Oh, I meant to tell you, Father.
I own a steamship line now.

Well, that makes
me very happy, heh

Which steamship line?

Well, I saw you working
so hard last month...

trying to acquire the
Liverpool Empire line.

Well, I decided to buy
it out from under you.

Good boy.

Where were we?

Worrying about my
taking care of myself.

Oh, yes.

Yes, I want to see
you independent, Jack.

I want to know that when I'm gone
you'll be standing on your own two feet.

I am touched.

I think I've figured out
how you're going to do it.

Have you now? How's that?

With a good wife standing
on her two feet beside you.

And I think I found just
the one. Beautiful girl.

Good family and
well-off in her own right.

Oh, I wish you both all
the happiness in the world.

What does that mean?

There are 40 million
people in this country...

including, I imagine, a number
of marriageable young ladies.

If there is to be one for me, I
would like to find her myself.

Heh, the ones you've found
for me have all been abominable.

- This one is quite different.
- That's been the trouble with all of them.

You're at least going
to look at her, talk to her.

- I am not.
- Why not?

Because we've had
all this before, Father.

Heh, if your eye for business
were as bad as your eye for girls...

- I've already talked to her family.
- Well, go talk to them again, I won't.

Blast me if I ever
call you Jack again.

You're disobedient,
ungrateful, treacherous.

- And shrewd.
- Not when you tackle me, boy.

- I'll cut you off without a nickel.
- Oh, I've got nickels.

You won't have when
I've finished with you.

I'll drive you to the
wall. I'll break you, Jack.

- I mean, you dog. I'll...
- You're frightening me, Father.

- At least leave me my steamship line.
- That does it.

I never want to see you again.
Don't write to me. Don't talk to me.

When you change your
mind and wanna come back...

crawl back to my lawyers. Blast
me if I ever call you Jack again.

Get out!

What a pity it isn't
snowing outside.

Everything go all
right, brigadier?

Oh, drat, I forgot to tell him. He's
supposed to see the girl at 6:00.

- What girl at 6:00?
- Her name is Miss Lynley.

- Miss Lynley?
- And she's with her aunt in Suite 318.

You will go, won't you?
Let me tell him that you will.

I'm not supposed to communicate
with the old bully at all.

It means so much to him.

- It'll break his heart if you don't.
- Huh?

Heh, why not?

You're a very brave boy, Van. I
wouldn't be in your shoes for anything.

Oh, but you are, unless
you wanna go off salary.

Perhaps we can find a
flower for your buttonhole.

I've never worn a flower
in my buttonhole in my life.

The president of the
United States wears a flower.

And he makes $40 a
week less than you do.

Run along and tidy up. Miss
Lynley is expecting Mr. Vandergelt.

And for the moment,
that still has to be you.

Oh, she'll be disappointed
if you don't propose.

Van.

Suppose she says yes?

Heh, then we'd
all be disappointed.

I suppose you're
wondering why I am here.

Oh, not at all, Mr. Vandergelt. You're
here because your father sent you.

I'm here because my
aunt is guarding the door.

If it weren't for your manners, no one
would know that you came from Philadelphia.

I'm sorry, Mr. Vandergelt,
do go on with your proposal.

You're not making
it any easier for me.

That is important to
a Vandergelt, isn't it?

Let's see how easy
we can make it.

Miss Lynley.

No, no, no, dear Miss Lynley, I
have long admired you from afar.

- Deeply and tenderly, dear Miss Lynley.
- Don't stop now.

I'm keenly aware that I have nothing to
offer expect an honest and loving heart...

several million dollars
invested at 25 percent...

a box at the Metropolitan
Opera, a string of polo ponies...

And my friends tell
me I'm not unattractive.

Yes.

All these I lay at your
feet, dear Miss Lynley.

And I beg you to do me the honor of
becoming Mrs. John Vandergelt III...

or how ever many it is.

There.

Ah, wasn't that a nice proposal?

It's the nicest I ever heard.

- Now, what do you say?
- I say, dear Mr. Vandergelt, thank you.

No.

- You won't marry me?
- That's one way of putting it.

- You don't know what this does to me.
- Oh, I'm sure you'll get over it.

- What do you have against me?
- Money, Mr. Vandergelt.

Money? What's wrong with money?

The people who have it.
Usually, they have very little else.

That's an awful thing to say.

Some of the nicest people I
know are filthy with money.

And some of them have none at
all. Your friend Maverick, for example.

There've been times when he didn't
know where his next meal was coming from.

- It's possible.
- But he has better things.

He has warmth, imagination,
courage, a sense of adventure.

That's Maverick.

Things he couldn't
possibly have if he were rich.

But you're rich and
you have imagination.

But I don't spend all of my time
dancing and riding to hounds.

- I learn a lot from reading.
- Reading what?

Let me give you an example.

Have you ever read
Mr. Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities?

- I've glanced at it.
- Now, that's life and all its reality.

A woman loved by two men.
One man is an aristocrat...

the other, a penniless
lawyer named Sydney Carton.

Silly girl, fooled by outward
appearances, marries the aristocrat.

Even then, Sydney
Carton still loves her.

He cuts down on his drinking,
he tries to improve himself...

and when her aristocratic husband is
condemned to the guillotine... Guess.

Sydney Carton takes
the aristocrat's place.

Because underneath it all,
he was the real aristocrat.

Do you remember what he said
as he was mounting the scaffold?

"It is a far, far better thing
that I do than I have ever done."

Now, be honest, Mr. Vandergelt,
you wouldn't have done a thing like that.

With me, there's a
difference. I don't drink.

Well, I don't hold it against
you, but you can see my point.

I don't want $12 million.
I want a man with a soul.

And I think I found one.

- Well, of course she has. Me.
- I know how you feel about this girl.

But you gotta be sensible,
she has nothing up here.

All she knows about or cares about is
the stuff she reads in those purple novels.

Oh, a few weeks over a hot stove
will steam that nonsense out of her.

I'll send you two hot stoves
for a wedding present...

because you're as bad as she
is. Pfft, I thought I knew you, Van.

"Not smart," I said, "but he does
have a certain low animal cunning."

Pardon me.

Let see, uh, dark suit,
rather somber necktie.

Oh, don't mind me,
Bret, just keep on talking.

Livingston, old boy.

Lucius Benson. How nice.

I've been meaning to tell you, there's a
membership opening in the Cotillion Group.

I know how anxious you've been.

Anything you can
do for me, old boy?

Of course that's a
rather solemn little set...

the Cotillion Group. Do you think
you can get serious enough for them?

Oh, I've always been serious where
the Cotillion group is concerned.

Let's hope they don't
hear the story I heard...

about your being knocked down in
the park for flirting with my fiancée.

Oh.

Lucius, heh, that was only a little
joke that some of us cooked up.

Isn't every day one sees a Rutgers
man cooking up little jokes with Texans.

Suppose you let me in
on the joke, Livingston.

I have a droll sense of humor.

Come in.

- Father.
- What do you want?

Well, I've, uh... Ahem. I've
been doing a lot of thinking.

You'd better take it easy
until you get used to it.

Well, after I left you, the
sight of you kept haunting me.

I thought of you sitting
here, old, tired, feeble.

Tired? Feeble? Me?

You're in the twilight of your life,
where the trivial things become important.

Peace and comfort.

A rocking chair, a crowd of
grandchildren fussing over you.

And I have given you
none of these things, Father.

Oh, I've been a wretched son.

Selfish, ungrateful, disobedient.
Not like a Vandergelt at all.

My boy, you mustn't.

Thank heavens I still have
the Vandergelt conscience.

What Vandergelt conscience, heh?

I've decided I can't let my selfishness
stand in the way of my duty as a son.

I am ready to marry the girl.

Confound you. You
shall be Jack again.

You've seen the young
lady, talked with her?

I guess. I guess
she's all right.

If you're happy with
her, Father, I'll go along.

Go along? What does that mean?

Marriage isn't a matter of going
along. Marriage is a matter of love.

Perhaps that will come later.

That's the most non-sensible
thing I ever heard.

She's a smashing girl, Jack.
If I were 20 years younger, I...

Oh, now, no regrets, Father.

You're just like all
your mother's people.

No guts.

When I was your age, no father of
mine would ever have bullied me...

into marrying some stupid
girl from Philadelphia.

She's not...

Father, you don't
want me to marry her?

I want you to stand
on your own two feet.

Alone or married?

It doesn't matter to me
what you do. Get out.

By George, young Vandergelt it's
a shamelessly beautiful morning.

I could almost eat
another breakfast.

If I'd known that you
could have had mine.

- Heh.
- Do you suppose the casino is open yet?

I've been wondering
what it looks like.

Don't you ever think
about anything but money?

Think about love and
life. The simple joys.

They aren't simple
the way you go at it.

Van, you can't court girls the
same way you steal railroads.

- You ever been married?
- No.

- Ever stolen a railroad?
- Not yet.

Then shut up. I'm afraid we'll
have to elope down the back stairs.

A ladder that tall would
be rather cumbersome.

Mr. Maverick.

Oh, good morning,
Miss Lydia, honey.

I have a date to go driving this
afternoon with, uh, Mr. Maverick.

- Well, that's nice.
- Would you be good enough...

Mr. Maverick, to
pick me up at 1:00?

Mr. Vandergelt.

"My dear, Miss Lynley, the
man you know as Bret Maverick...

is actually John Vandergelt III.

- The man you know as John Vandergelt..."
- Who from?

"A friend."

What are you gonna do?

I think I'll go quietly
upstairs and open a vein.

Don't bother to
equivocate, madam.

I have three Pinkerton men
on my household budget.

Nothing escapes
me for very long.

Then perhaps you can tell
me what's been going on.

Delighted.

The two of them arrived here a
week ago posing as each other.

Within an hour, you had swooped
down on the cowboy. Why?

They told me he was your son.

At that time, brigadier, I
considered myself a family friend.

And, within 24 hours, your niece
had pounced on my son, why?

Is she a family friend
of the cowboy's?

Oh, she's a silly,
wooly-brained romantic child...

who insists on marrying
beneath her station in life.

She wants to marry
someone poor but honest.

If all women were like that, my family
would have died out 12 generations ago.

Now, ahem...

after several days of shenanigans
with billing and cooing behind my back...

and defying me to my face...

your niece, this morning, slaps
my son on a public porch. Why?

I gather that was her way
of declining his proposal.

My late wife turned me down 12
times without ever laying a hand on me.

Well, everything's straightening
out now. No harm done.

I'll have both of them
up for a sensible talk.

Then you'd better send your
Pinkerton men to find them.

She and he and the
cowboy have all disappeared.

Oh, Bret, isn't it gorgeous?

Isn't it one of those days that
makes you feel good just to be alive?

I suppose if I really
thought about it.

You're actually
quite shy, aren't you?

I'd never noticed it.

That makes me feel very proud.

And very tender.

How did you find this place?

Oh, it's one of the
places Bret and I...

It's one of the places your
friend Mr. Vandergelt led me to.

Lydia, don't you sort of wish
you were up here with him?

Dear, foolish Maverick.

What I mean is, don't you think
you're being a little hard on him?

Him? Mr. Vandergelt III?

Bret, you must push him
out of your mind as I have.

- He's no good.
- He thinks an awful lot of you.

Oh, I'm sure he thinks an awful
lot of his traction companies...

and his coal mines
and his yacht.

And I'm sure he got them...

by the same underhanded,
treacherous, utterly faithless tactics.

He's a cheat, an
imposter, a thief.

And he's not the sort of person I
want you associating with, Van. Bret.

I hadn't mean to tell you,
but, actually, I'm no good too.

But your deception
was for a noble reasons.

I respect you for that.

Lydia, there's something
I've gotta tell you.

You already have, Bret.

Every look, every gesture,
every utterly unselfish thing...

you did in all those days when
you were standing on the sidelines...

sacrificing your happiness
for that of your friend.

Things are getting
awfully complicated.

No. No, things are finally
simplifying themselves.

It's your happiness
that counts now.

- I know that.
- Your happiness and mine.

All that time I thought I was in love with
Vandergelt because I thought he was you.

And now I know that you are
you. Am I making sense, Bret?

And all the time I was
really in love with you.

Lydia, I don't deserve you.

Bret?

You once did me the honor of
asking me to become your wife.

Let's have a very quiet wedding.

"Dear, Miss Lynley.

I think you should
know that your friend

Mr. Bret Maverick is
not all he seems to be.

Wherever he's gone
throughout the west...

he's left behind him a trail
of empty whiskey bottles...

unpaid bills and broken hearts.

He has trifled with the
affections of every young lady..."

She'd like that.

- Miss Lynley, please. Mr. Lucius Benson.
- She won't see you.

Suppose you run along
and tell her anyway, my girl?

You better not come around
anymore. Miss Lydia's getting married.

- Married?
- To Mr. Maverick.

- He's not Mr. Maverick.
- This one is.

It's my son that has the problem.
What are you worried about?

I'm still on sa...

I like your son.

Doesn't it bother you seeing your
flesh and blood moping around like that...

his heart broken, his
whole life shattered?

I wish he could
manage it more often.

I guess that's what it takes to
be a multi-millionaire. No heart.

Oh, sit down, it's gonna take more than
heart to get you people out of this mess.

Of course, we could bring in someone
even more unattractive than you...

let her fall in love with him, but
that would leave my son where he is.

- Love isn't the problem, brigadier.
- Mm-hm.

It's marriage.

- She's in love with your son already.
- Heh, that's true. Marriage, marriage.

Why didn't I think of it before?
I've got a friend in Denver.

If he's still there.
Anything anybody needs,

Buckley can supply
it, uh, for a price.

I'll get word to him that I need a wife
and, oh, three or four small children.

He'll have them standing in the
lobby first thing in the morning.

You spend so much time
with that son of mine...

that you're thinking is
getting as fuzzy as his.

If you did a thing like that,
she'd drop both of you...

and marry the next man down
the list. This, uh, Benson fellow.

What you want me to
do? Just walk away from it?

Brilliant. Brilliant!

What?

Think of it. What would
happen if you just disappeared?

You mean run away? Leave
that poor girl waiting at the church?

- That's a pretty shabby thought.
- I was sure you'd like it.

You see what it'll do, don't you? Make
you a greater scoundrel than my son...

take you out of this poor-but-honest
business once and for all...

and throw that girl
right into the arms...

of that simple, guileless,
good-hearted son of mine.

Brigadier, I'm ashamed of you.
When is the next train out of here?

Six-fifteen in the morning.
Reaches Denver half-past 7.

Your fare will be $5.37.

And, of course, you'll need
some change for breakfast.

If anyone asks for me,
I've gone to bed early.

Slight head cold. Good night.

Mr. Maverick.

Good night.

And Lucius Benson
was beside himself.

"No gentleman," he kept
saying, "The man's no gentleman."

Oh, nonsense. Maverick's
a real gentleman.

He's gallant.

Heh, he's a better
man than I am.

Well, how do you
figure that, Van?

Oh, he played it square
while I was playing it devious.

He's got the girl now,
and my admiration.

Yes, but, really, Van,
laughing at a challenge...

Livingston, why should Benson
challenge Maverick to a duel?

Heh, he was hoping to marry the
girl himself until you two came along.

Preposterous idea.

You know, if only he
weren't so snobbish.

You know, he wasn't nearly as upset
when he thought she was marrying a Van...

How'd he know I
was a Vandergelt?

You told him.

- It just slipped out.
- When?

Day before yesterday. But you're
not angry with me, are you, Van?

Now, I want you
to do me two favors.

One involves getting up
quite early tomorrow morning.

And the other's a matter of merely
taking a message to Benson tonight.

Give him my
compliments and this.

Why pistols? Why not revolvers?

It was Benson's choice. I
suppose he's an expert with pistols.

Oh. Oh, Mr. Vandergelt, where are
you going at this hour of the morning?

Out. Out to the picnic grounds.

Oh, well, have fun.

- Oh, Lucy.
- Yes?

- Is Miss Lynley an early riser?
- Oh, yes, sir.

Good. Will you give her this
message for me when she awakes?

Well, if she'll listen.

Tell her it is a far, far better
thing I do than I have ever done.

- Done mean a thing to me.
- It will to her.

"Dear Van, I hate
running out on you like this.

I feel awful about
running out on Lydia.

But we might as well face it...

I'm too old to change and
I'm too young to get married.

Thanks for the
buggy ride. Bret."

Dear Bret, Benson seems determined
to fight a duel with someone...

so it might as well be me.

By the time you read this, I may
be lying dead on the picnic grounds.

But I shall have died happy
knowing that the girl I love...

is with the finest
man I've ever known.

God bless you both. Van.

I just can't
understand it, ma'am.

All of a sudden, everybody
waking up at the crack of dawn.

- Oh, it looks like a heavenly day.
- Hmm.

I ran into young
Mr. Vandergelt downstairs...

and he was already going
out to the picnic grounds.

- I haven't the slightest interest.
- Oh, and it's a good thing too, ma'am.

Miss Lydia, you didn't get rid
of that one a minute too soon.

I don't care to hear about it.

What I mean, ma'am,
is he's real strange.

Going to picnics at
6:00 in the morning.

And leaving messages for you that
I wouldn't think of repeating to you.

- Even if I could remember them.
- Please don't.

He's spooky talking like
that at 6:00 in the morning.

Uh, "Tell her," he said, "that
it's a far, far better thing I do...

than I have ever done."

On my count, you will
both walk 10 paces forward.

On the count of 10, you
will then turn and fire.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Van, why?

It was nothing, Bret.

Don't be afraid
to tell me, doctor.

Pretty messy.

You'll never be
able to use it again.

Thank heavens
it was my left arm.

I'm not talking about your arm. I'm talking
about your coat. It's barely a scratch.

Just remember to keep
the bandage changed.

Guns, shootouts. It's you people from the
east who are giving the west a bad name.

You ought to be
feeling pretty silly.

Heh, well, actually, I feel quite
good. My appetite's coming back.

Van!

Van! Van!

You! You let him do it! Why?

- I kept telling you I'm no good.
- Van.

Oh.

What the devil is going on here?

Lydia.

Don't die, Van. You mustn't die.

- Oh, Van.
- What is there to live for?

For me, my darling. For us.

I love you, Van. I've
always loved you.

Then I can die happy.

I won't let you die.

You've got to live.
I want to marry you.

Oh, I'll try awfully
hard. I'll be a good wife.

Heh, it's no life
for you, Lydia.

- Polo ponies, a yacht.
- That doesn't matter.

I'd marry you if you were
the richest man in the world.

Promise me you'll live.

I promise.

Oh, Mr. Maverick. We haven't
met. I'm the hotel manager.

- It's very nice to know you.
- I see you're visiting our casino.

Tell me, have you run across a
rumor that you can't get into our casino...

unless your name is Vanderbilt,
Vandergelt, Stuyvesant or Aster?

- I never listen to rumor.
- You should, Mr. Maverick.

Because that one
happens to be quite true.

- Who?
- An English lord. The Earl of Bertley.

Not Bertley, young fellow.
Bartley. The Earl of Bartley.