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Pa!

Joe.

Joe?

Pa. Pa.

A big cat.

Big cat up by the herd.

Hey, Pa, what happened?

Joe's horse stumbled.

Get into town and get the doctor quick!

Oh, he's a big one, Pa.

He's the biggest one I've seen.

He's gonna raise Cain on those cattle up there.

Shh. Ah, don't worry about that now.

Is Cochise all right?

Yeah.

Yeah, she's all right.

She was luckier than you.

Geez, I don't even know what it was.

I didn't see a thing.

Must have been a chuckhole or something.

When I saw you fall, Joe... for a moment,

it was just like your mother.

The same way that afternoon.

She came riding up to the house.

There's so much of her in you, Joe.

So much.

A fine instrument, eh, monsieur?

35 inches of authority.

Yes, sir.

Excuse me, sir.

Are you Marius Angerville?

A bit worn in the tooth,

a little bit sour in the stomach,

but the very same.

Well, I'm-I'm glad I found you, sir.

My name is Ben Cartwright.

Should I know you?

Oh, no, sir. No.

I-I've just arrived in New Orleans.

I-I have a ranch up in Nevada.

Oh. You've come a long way, monsieur.

Yes, sir. Around the cape.

- By ship? - By clipper.

- A fine voyage? - Yes, sir.

Ah. How I miss that.

Sir, there was a man worked in my ranch.

He was from New Orleans.

Name of Jean deMarigny.

Jean?

It's been so long.

Is he well, happy?

No, sir.

He's dead.

Jean?

He was like my own son.

His last thoughts were of you and his wife,

and I promised I'd see you both.

And of course, his mother.

His mother!

Forgive me.

But there are some things...

I'm sorry to have to bring you such bad news,

Madame deMarigny.

I hope that

it might bring you... you some consolation

to know of your son's courage.

I am growing old, monsieur,

and quite dry of tears.

The deMarignys carry a proud, but bitter heritage.

We cried at the death of the emperor.

We cried in the streets of New Orleans

when the French flag came down.

And I cried when my son ran away from his disgrace.

His disgrace, madame?

You knew little about him.

Well, only that he had separated from his wife

whom he loved very dearly.

Love is often a crown of thorns.

Yes. Yes, I suppose that's true.

I... hope to see his wife, Marie.

I do not wish to discuss her, monsieur.

Well, madame, she is your son's wife.

Marie del Valle was never meant to be the wife of a deMarigny!

Forgive me, monsieur, but that is not your concern.

If I can be of service while you are in New Orleans.

Oh, thank you, madame. There-there is one thing.

Oui?

I brought a shipment of raw furs with me from Nevada.

I was hoping I might dispose of them while I'm here.

But I have little connection

with my husband's business, monsieur.

Well, Jean suggested

that I contact your late husband's partner.

He might arrange to sell my furs for me in the Parisian market.

I shall be happy to introduce you

to Monsieur Clermont.

Thank you.

I will arrange for a meeting and notify you.

Thanks.

- Where are you staying? - Oh, with a friend.

Marius Angerville in the Passage de la Bourse.

You know Marius Angerville?

Well, yes. He's...

He's a friend of your son's.

That one is no friend to my son.

Bonjour, monsieur.

Well, thank you, madame.

Good day.

Jean's mother wasn't too friendly toward me.

She isn't exactly fond of her daughter-in-law, is she?

Oh, she isn't. Never was.

I'm afraid, Marie isn't very fond of me.

We may not receive a warm reception, my boy.

I haven't seen her since the day Jean left New Orleans.

Jean told me that you were very good friends.

Mm. We were

until I challenged her beloved cousin,

Edouard D'Arcy, to a duel.

She's never forgiven me for wanting to kill him,

which I was most anxious to do.

Whoa.

Whoa, whoa.

Whoa.

So instead,

I presented the monsieur with a keg of Barbados rum.

Oh, Monsieur Dafau was chagrined!

I couldn't imagine why.

After all, what did he expect?

At any rate, he had a nervous breakdown

and hasn't returned to the club since.

Oh, marvelous!

Marie, tell us about the time

you rode into the Salle d'Orleans

in the middle of a ball.

Uh, no, Andre. I...

I have no more time for tales.

Marius Angerville.

I thought by now the devil had claimed you for his own.

I'm afraid both you and he will have to wait a trifle longer.

I brought a friend to meet you,

fresh from the wilderness, Marie.

May I present Monsieur Cartwright

from Virginia City, Nevada?

Madame.

I have heard there is such a place.

Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid there is.

Full of wild animals and much wilder people.

Now, if you'll forgive me, I'm going to the bar.

Madame... may I speak with you in private?

Monsieur, is that a Western custom...

Demanding a lady's attention on such short acquaintance?

Ma'am, what I have to say is rather serious.

Serious?

Why, no one is serious here.

People come here for pleasure.

Ma'am, what I have to say...

It's about your husband.

Marie?

I thought you were going to join us.

A little cognac for me, please.

It seems the game-legged old hotspur himself has decided

to distinguish us with a visit.

Why not, D'Arcy?

We will squat in hell together, you and I.

If you're in a hurry to get there, Hotspur,

I'm always available to assist you on your way.

Next time the boot may be on the other foot.

I am pleased to have met you, monsieur.

Marie, please hurry.

Monsieur, I do not wish to discuss my husband.

I-I think you had better leave.

Is your husband of interest to you?

Of no interest whatsoever.

I'm afraid there's something that you don't know.

There is nothing I wish to know about Jean.

Bonjour, monsieur.

Monsieur?

My name is D'Arcy.

I am the proprietor here.

How do you do, sir?

Are you a friend of Marius?

Yes, in a way.

You do not seem to be attracted to our little sport.

Most Americans find it very stimulating.

I didn't come here to gamble.

I'm afraid I'm not exactly attracted to blind chance.

Perhaps you're attracted more by aesthetic things?

And if I am?

Oh, that would surprise me.

You lack a certain polish in your technique.

I guess my polish has been dulled by hard work, monsieur.

Good night.

Hello, Marius.

I fought amid the grapeshot and bullets of Waterloo,

a saber in my hand,

with valiant men, honorable men.

You've had too much to drink, Marius.

Don't tell me what I've had.

In vino veritas... "In wine...

there is truth."

Let me help you up.

What is it?

An old wound.

This afternoon it became as fresh as the day I received it.

Defending the honor of an old friend.

Oh, Jean, Jean, you came to me,

but I failed you.

We all failed you.

♪♪

Better?

Uh-huh.

What did that mean... you all failed him?

Well, he'd just been married.

He adored his young and beautiful wife.

But when he believed her unfaithful, he ran,

his world shattered.

Mm... now I'm beginning to understand

why Madame deMarigny didn't want to... talk about her.

I never believed the stories spread about Marie.

I tried to prove them false.

She was the innocent victim of deceit.

What was the truth?

The real facts about what happened

are locked in her heart...

along with grief and disillusionment.

♪♪

Diablo, it's you again.

I'm a stubborn man, madame.

Please go away.

I will, as soon as you've given me a chance to talk to you.

I know all I need to know about Jean.

Do you know that he's dead?

I'm sorry. That's what I've been trying to tell you.

He made me promise to seek you out

and let you know.

Thank you.

I'm sorry I had to give you the news so bluntly, but...

you left me little choice.

Go on, monsieur.

Jean died after saving my life.

He was a brave and courageous man.

I accept your statement, monsieur,

but it does not fit the Jean deMarigny I knew.

He asked me...

to tell you that he loved you.

Love.

He didn't know what it meant to love.

A man on his deathbed doesn't lie.

All right, you've told me. Now, good day, monsieur.

That isn't all he asked me to say to you.

I'm not interested.

He asked me to say that he forgave you.

Forgave me?!

His words were: he loved you and he forgave you.

For what?

He believed a horrible lie.

It was absurd!

He couldn't have accepted it and really loved me.

Instead of trusting me, he ran off,

leaving me disgraced and humiliated!

Where was he when I needed him,

when my baby needed him?

I didn't know there was a child.

There is no child.

His mother took him from me at birth.

He died of the fever.

Ah.

Jean never told me about that.

Did he know?

If he knew... would he have cared?

Leave me alone, monsieur, please.

♪♪

♪♪

Touché.

Merci, cher maitre.

Well, you have speed and accuracy,

but your long lunge and carte left you open to my riposte.

You're too anxious for the kill.

I'm an impatient woman, Marius.

That could be the death of you.

Another bout... Three... three touches.

I'm tired.

You didn't come here for a fencing lesson, Marie,

not after all this time.

I'm not sure why I came.

I'm not sure of anything anymore.

Well, I can't give you any fatherly advice.

There are no words to prevent memories

from coming back to haunt you.

You remind me of a gaunt, old tree.

Gnarled and sad, all covered with Spanish moss

and standing up to your knees in dark water.

You've been a loyal friend, Marius,

even though you... you were wrong about my cousin Edouard.

He's been very good to me.

I...

I-I think I wanted to tell you I'm sorry.

Oh. Please don't run off on my account.

I'll be out of your way.

Marius told me you wouldn't be here today.

I came back sooner than I'd planned.

I was out walking around your magnificent city.

I-I'm sorry if I've been rude.

But you just don't understand.

Allow me.

New Orleans is a strange city,

strange and unpredictable.

There's none other like it in the world.

Find the people rather difficult to understand, too.

They're a blend of so many things.

Yes.

Good and evil.

Bitterness and... sorcery and virtue.

You could live a lifetime and find nothing worse

than warm sunshine or bubbles in honey.

♪♪

Or you might suddenly become aware of the most...

the most... terrible rottenness.

The West is like that, too.

Out West there are trees that...

that touch the blue of the sky.

Unimaginably beautiful.

And yet there's an anger and violence about nature

that seems to be there just to test people.

But it hardens them, too, makes them strong...

and unfeeling.

It's a man's country.

Are you going back soon?

Yes.

I thought... maybe...

before I go, maybe we could have supper together.

And I promise not to talk about anything more personal

than, mm, bubbles and honey.

I'm sorry.

Good day, monsieur.

Bonjour, Marius.

She's like a woman possessed.

One moment gay and full of life,

the next driven, and running to escape

from something that seems to chase her.

Well, she... loses herself in her way,

and I in mine.

We've got to learn to recover from sorrow.

I did from mine.

Did you?

I think not; you're still nursing your wounds,

just like me.

I learned to forget, Marius.

Marie can't forget.

A husband who deserted her; a mother-in-law who loathed her.

They had to be married secretly to avoid her interference.

What about this, uh, this other man,

the one who was supposed to...?

Well, I never found out who he was.

One of D'Arcy's friends, perhaps.

I tried to make Jean see the truth,

but it was no use.

Well, it isn't my affair.

I have my own responsibilities.

Jean saved your life.

He gave you this responsibility.

Just a minute, Marius.

I paid my debt to Jean.

How?

By bringing us the sad tale of his death?

By bargaining with his mother to sell your furs?

Those furs represent a year's work.

I need the money to expand my ranch and...

Besides, what the devil could I do here

that you have not been able to do?

You could help me find the other man!

Oh, that happened years ago.

Wouldn't help Jean now anyway; it's a dead issue.

Not to me!

And Marie isn't a dead issue either.

You could talk to her, make her see that D'Arcy

isn't what she thinks.

That he isn't trying to help her.

That he wants only to fulfill his own ambitions

by marrying her off to some fat aristocrat.

Well, what makes you think she'd listen to me?

Anyway, I'm not gonna get involved.

I have two sons; I'm going to get back to them.

Well... maybe you're right, my boy.

Why bother with other people's agonies

when you have your own to keep you company?

♪♪

I do not compromise with situations, Madame deMarigny.

Then you are aware that this man is a threat

such as Angerville never was.

I can see the possibility, but...

I'm not overly disturbed by it.

He is young, aggressive,

and he feels a debt of gratitude to my son.

All very subversive attributes.

I view this matter of the American's intrusion

with utmost gravity.

There is no cause for alarm, madame.

The man I persuaded to be attentive to your son's wife

is now residing on the island of Haiti.

He could come back.

The American could get the truth out of him,

and if he searches hard enough,

he could discover from various sources

that Marie's child is not dead.

That could lead to the most undesirable results.

I want him to leave New Orleans.

I have arranged for his furs to be bought

so that he will have no excuse to stay.

But just in case he is stubborn...

I want him out of here.

Do you understand?

I understand perfectly, madame.

If you can afford the expense,

I can afford the inconvenience.

Madame.

I saw you from the street, madame.

May I?

I come here often.

I was brought up in the convent after my parents died.

It's a beautiful place.

I was happy here, though something of a rebel.

Yes, I think I can imagine you as a rebel.

I used to climb that tree and look over the wall,

fascinated by the beautiful French ladies

in their Paris gowns,

with shining black hair and skin like roses.

I couldn't wait to wash my face in sour buttermilk.

When I was a boy I used to stand on a pier

and watch the great clipper ships putting out to sea.

I used to imagine myself a captain on the quarterdeck,

scanning the horizon,

looking for rich, new lands to discover.

For a long time I had to content myself

with finding my heroes in books.

I think that was far better.

Then, if they disillusion you,

you, you can throw them into the fire.

It's getting late.

May I, may I walk you home?

Who were your heroes, Marie?

Don John of Austria, Henri of Navarre, Cardinal Richelieu.

Bold, forceful men.

Perfect heroes for a young Creole girl

who hadn't the vaguest ideas about love and life.

You seem to have some definite ideas now.

About life, we don't live.

We're only in the expectation of living.

And love?

To love is to place one's happiness

in someone else's hands.

I see so much of my own loneliness in you.

Marie.

I know I have no right to ask...

but what happened that night?

I, I was alone.

Jean had finally worked up the courage

to, to tell his mother we had been married.

But he wanted to do it by himself.

I must have been asleep for some time when...

I became aware of someone near me.

I thought it was Jean.

When I realized it wasn't, I struggled.

That's when Jean came in the room.

It must have been terrible for you.

He should have believed me.

Yes, he should have.

His mother was anxious to believe the lie.

Something should have been done about that lie

a long time ago, Marie.

- Ah! - Oh, you.

Hmm, how popular we are becoming, cousin.

Marius and his American friend are becoming regular customers.

That's Monsieur Clermont with his back to us at the table.

Oh, um, wait for me at the bar.

Leave Marius alone, Edouard.

Oh, don't concern yourself.

My quarrel with the old hotspur is ancient history.

Mr. Clermont, I'm Ben Cartwright.

Oh, it is a pleasure to meet you, monsieur.

I got your note and came as quickly as I could.

Oh, yes, yes.

About the furs, Madame deMarigny spoke to me.

You play poker, Monsieur Cartwright?

Well, I-I thought you wanted to discuss business, sir.

Oh, certainly, my boy, certainly.

I have a room in the back reserved for our negotiation.

Won't you join us for a little while,

and we'll discuss business later?

Please do join us, monsieur.

Well... thank you.

I have one vice... cards.

Well, gentlemen, I have three queens.

Ah, Monsieur D'arcy, have you had the pleasure

of meeting Monsieur Cartwright?

Yes.

He is the gentleman who does not devote himself to blind chance.

Well, he's certainly doing well with it tonight.

Throw a lucky man into the Nile, says an old Arabian proverb,

and he'll come up with a fish in his mouth.

Monsieur Clermont, I hope my luck will improve tomorrow.

Monsieur, enchanté.

Thank you.

May I join in?

Please do.

I believe you, Monsieur Cartwright.

I'll pay for the pleasure

of seeing your hand, Monsieur Cartwright.

Straight.

Incredible luck.

It's your deal.

Marius... won't you join me?

Thank you.

Monsieur Cartwright, may I see those cards?

You are a cheat and a thief!

D'Arcy, you cut those cards.

Barbarian, you accuse me...

Why, you uncouth, backwoods...

I demand satisfaction for this insult, monsieur.

The Plantation Allard... at dawn.

Weapons... rapiers.

♪♪

Bon nuit.

He can't fence, D'Arcy, and you know it.

If he doesn't wish to satisfy me,

he better conduct himself out of town immediately.

- He won't need to do either. - Marius, you stay out of this.

I'm already in it.

This is my affair; now, stop interfering.

You can have him when I'm through with him.

How popular I am.

Gentlemen, it will be a pleasure to do business with both of you.

Whoever is first is immaterial.

We'll let the cards decide.

Marius, listen to me.

Edouard, no, please!

Marie, you stay out of this.

- Marius, will you please lis... - Cut the cards.

Don't be ridiculous.

All right, I'll cut them for you.

Yours: queen.

Mine... king.

You lose, my boy.

All right, D'Arcy, the oak grove,

Allard Plantation at dawn.

- Perfectly satisfactory. - Now, Marius...

- Come along, my boy! - Marius, will you...

Come along!

Edouard, no, please.

Monsieur Cartwright is no match for your rapier.

He knows nothing of such things.

And Marius is an old man!

He's crippled!

Why are you so concerned about Mr. Cartwright?

To a Frenchman, my boy, honor is sacred.

Aw, come on, Marius,

I was tricked into that duel. You...

Of course you were.

Why?

Obviously, you're considered a threat.

A threat?

To what? To whom?

- By whom? - Obviously, again,

by Madame deMarigny.

Which is why she's hired D'Arcy

to arrange your convenient demise.

Well...

it's still my fight, and I won't have you interfere.

My dear boy,

do you actually believe you could meet D'Arcy

in a cartel with rapiers?

The man's a professional duelist.

He's killed four men.

He half crippled me, a fencing master!

Well, then we'll have to find some other way

- to settle it, that's all. - There is no other way!

Unless I kill the man first, he'll kill you.

Marius, I'm not helpless.

I may not be a fencer,

but I can... hold my own with the best of them,

with my fists or with practically any kind of firearm.

Mm, it's too late for that.

He's maneuvered you so he has the choice of weapons.

You better understand me, Marius.

I'm not leaving town,

and I'm not gonna let you do my fighting for me.

And there are some things you must understand.

I have been given another chance,

and you're not taking it from me.

You have everything:

a great future, sons.

For me, there is only honor.

Without it, I'm nothing.

Honor.

The word hangs in the air of New Orleans

like the refrain of a song.

I taught you the art of fencing, Marie.

I taught you the code that holds men

to the high standard of honor and courtesy.

The code?

Marius, this time you will die.

I know it.

Perhaps... but with dignity.

Ben... Marius is just trying to save you.

He can't win.

He's not going to have a chance to try.

Ben!

I've heard all I want to hear, Marius.

The discussion is over.

Well... maybe you're right, my boy.

Maybe it's just the stubborn pride

of an old man.

What about you?

How are you gonna fight D'Arcy?

I thought your concern was for Marius.

I love the dear man, but... But... what?

My concern isn't only for Marius.

Marius?

Ben, I couldn't go to sleep.

I just saw Marius and D'Arcy headed for the oaks.

Fool.

You'll have to show me where they hold those stupid duels.

My carriage is outside.

One, two.

Oh.

Halt!

A wound?

No wound.

Continue.

Whoa.

Good.

Oh.

Out. Go.

Marius!

Marius, you old fool.

I failed you, my boy.

I failed you both.

Ben!

You know what you are, D'Arcy?

A hired assassin... fighting an old man.

You're a white-livered, cowardly disgrace

to yourself and your so-called coat of honor.

I consider that a challenge

which supersedes our previous arrangement.

My choice of weapon is pistols

here and now.

Agreeable, monsieur.

Andre, the pistols.

Fire!

You did not fire, monsieur.

You'll live, D'Arcy,

if you tell the truth about Marie

and the man you hired to disgrace her.

You know nothing of the matter of honor.

Fire and be done with it!

Honor?

What do you know about honor?

Tell 'em, D'Arcy.

Tell 'em the truth about Marie.

Tell them!

Yes. Uh... yes.

Madame deMarigny...

arranged the whole thing... through me.

Thank you, my boy.

I'm knee-deep in dark water.

But no longer sad.

No, Marius, no.

Don't cry, Marie.

He died as he wanted to...

according to the code by which he lived.

The code?

I'm sick to death of the code.

Of all the stupid, shallow desperation

that drives decent men to destroy themselves.

Look at this hanging moss...

with its slime and sickness.

Like this proud society that builds a wall

around itself and shuts out the world.

Marie, there's a world beyond that wall.

The real world, a beautiful world.

Where trees touch the sky?

Yes, where trees touch the sky,

and they grow straight and tall and clean.

Where life is reborn every moment, every day.

Not for me.

Death follows me.

Only in the past... Only in the past.

There's life ahead for you... for us.

Without you... it would be empty for me.

Empty?

But with your sons?

The future you're building for them?

Until I came here,

I thought my life was quite full.

My sons were all I needed.

But now I know,

without you it could never be complete.

Come back with me.

Be my wife.

I love you.

Oh, Ben.

I love you.

How little time we had together,

your mother and I, here in the Ponderosa.

From the time we were married...

until the time you were born...

until that day she came

riding up to the house... and fell.

Doctor's on his way, Pa.

Little brother, I thought you was half dead.

Are you all right?

Yeah, sure, I'm all right.

Take more than that fool horse to get rid of me.

Why does this always happen

at the beginning of haying season?

Just plain lucky, I guess.

Just plain lucky.

♪♪

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