INT - SHIEFFELIN HALL - NIGHT
More music and another card reads: "Selections From the Bard of Mr. Romulus
Fabian, Tragedian in Excelsis." The curtain rises and Fabian steps out,
a purple velvet cloak wrapped resplendently about him like a toga. In the audience,
Curly Bill's mouth drops:
Prettiest man I ever saw
Fabian throws open his cloak, revealing his lithe form in doublet and tights.
The whores in the gallery hoot and cheer. Fabian bows.
How come he ain't wearin' no pants?
(points to whores)
That's how come.
Ladies and gentlemen, the St
Crispin's Day Speech from Henry V.
To set the Scene, England is
Now at war with France.
Everything rests upon the battle
About to begin. Henry, the young
King of England, addresses his men
Thusly: "My cousin Westmorland?
No, my fair cousin-"
Another GUNSHOT and a bullet SPANGS into the column next to Fabian with a shower
Without missing a beat, Fabian casually flicks a chunk off his shoulder and
"If we are marked to die, we are
enow/ To do our country loss; and
if to live./ The fewer me, the
greater the share of honour..."
In the audience Barnes holsters his smoke pistol reflectively.
He's got nerve, I'll say that.
What do you think, Billy?
Starry-eyed, Breakenridge answers without thinking:
Oh, he wonderful!
Uh-oh, looks like somebody's in love.
Raw laughter from the others. Breakenridge sinks in his seat.
Let him alone.
On stage Fabian is in full cry, giving the local a slice of the ripest ham:
"We few, we happy few, we band of
brothers;/ For he today that
sheds his blood with me/ Shall be
my brother; be he ne'er so vile./
This day shall gentle his
Condition;/ And gentlemen in
England now a-bed/ Shall think
Themselves accurs'd they were no
Here./ And hold their manhood
Cheap whiles any speaks/ That
Fought with us upon Saint
Wild applause and cheering. Fabian bows with elaborate modesty.
That's great! That's our kinda stuff!
The curtain falls. Another card: "Faust - or the Devil's Bargain"
and the orchestra whirls into "Danse Macabre" by Saint-Saens, the
rising curtain revealing a wild pained backdrop, all black and red, covered
with weird, Beardsley-esque designs and images of death and damnation. A light
comes up, revealing an ancient white-bearded scholar sitting alone with his
books. Then a hooded Satan dances across the stage, slender and lissome in paned
black doublet and breeches and black hose, tempting the old man with images
of wealth and youth in the form of a shimmering blonde ballerina. The old man
succumbs, signing Satan's contract. The audience watches in rapt attention,
especially the Cowboys:
He's gonna some up short on that one.
Know what I'd do? I'd take the
Deal then crawfish and drill that
Ol' Devil in the ass. How 'bout
You, Johnny? What would you do?
I already did it.
Satan makes a flourish. A flash-pad EXPLOSION transforms the old scholar into
a young student. The ballerina flits by. The student offers her gold. They dance,
swirling about the stage in a mad waltz with Satan hovering behind them, mirroring
their every move like a puppet master. Finally, having gotten all his gold,
the Ballerina drifts away leaving the young student alone, lost in bitterness
as he changes back into the old scholar sitting with his books. Satan appears
over him, exultant and triumphant, ready to collect the debt as the curtain
falls with a final crashing chord. Thunderous cheering and applause. The curtain
rises again and the performers come out for bows, all except Satan.
But who was the Devil?
Suddenly Satan bounds out, removing the hood. It's Josephine.
It's that woman from the coach!
I'll be damned...
Josephine spots Wyatt's box and smiles. Doc raises an eyebrow:
You may indeed. If you get lucky.
EXT - ALLEN STREET - NIGHT
After the show and theatergoers, including the Earps, stroll homeward arm-in-arm
down Allen, all looking up at the clear night sky above. At the Oriental Wyatt
stops, turning to Virgil:
Comin' to the Oriental, Virge?
Not tonight! Tonight me and my
Old man're gonna have some fun.
Get moving, old man!
She laughs, shoving Virgil down the street. He looks at Wyatt:
Her maiden name was Sullivan.
Better go with 'em, honey. Here's
Where I leave you.
(grabs his hand)
No, stay. Please stay with me.
Honey, I gotta start makin' money.
Oh, all right.
Well I guess I don't have to go
Right now. I guess I could stay a little while.
No, no, I don't want to keep you.
No really, I can stay a while.
Just go. It's all right. Wyatt,
Really. Work well.
All right, well, good night.
Another kiss and he heads for the Oriental with Morgan. Mattie walks on after
the others, fishing through her bag for her bottle of laudanum....
INT - ORIENTAL - NIGHT
The saloon is packed. TRACK along the bar at floor level past a wild array of
high-button shoes, patent leather pumps, and stack-heeled boots with jingling
silver spurs. Track again at shoulder level past an equally wild array of slouch
hats, pork-pies, derbys, and wide-brim sombreros. Wyatt sits against the wall,
dealing faro with Doc at his side, Morgan on lookout while a sweaty overdressed
HIGH ROLLER makes bets, gnashing his teeth and drumming his fingers n a fever
of impatient greed:
All right, I'm on fire! Black
Seven, seven stickin' spades.
I'm your man...
You win again. Well played, sir.
You are on fire.
Told you. I'm red hot, I'm
Blazin'! Now, red seven. Seven
Stinkin' diamonds. Look out! Five
Thousand! Let's go!
Awful lot of money.
Can't take the heat, get outta
You're the doctor.
sad news, friend.
Damn! All right, wait a minute...
The high roller lays a set of deeds out on the table as....
INT - ORIENTAL - NIGHT
A break in the game. Wyatt studies the deeds as Morgan and Doc look on. Kate
sits to one side, blowing smoke rings contentedly.
So now we're in the mining
Business. Turning into regular
Tycoons. Gonna call this one the
Mattie Blaylock. Mattie'll get a
Kick out of that, it's her maiden
And what a maiden, pure as the
Driven snow, I'm sure.
Hey Doc! Come on now.
Just his style, Morg. Doesn't
So tell me, Wyatt. I'm curious.
Do you actually consider youself
A married man? Forsaking all
Well yeah. Pretty much. I mean I
Was no angel when we met but
People change Doc. I mean sooner
Or later you gotta grow up.
I see. And what would you do if
"she" walked in her right now?
You know damn well who I mean.
That dusky-hued lady Satan.
I don't know. Probably ignore her.
I'd ignore her. People can
I'll remember you said that.
Doc point. Josephine has just walked in with the other actors.
She spots Wyatt and starts toward him but he looks away, as if ignoring her.
She stops. Behan steps up to her, tipping his hat, very gallant. They move toward
the bar. Wyatt turns to Doc.
I stand corrected. Wyatt. You're
Josephine and Behan chat at the bar. White nudges Joyce:
Since when'd you start servin'
Ladies in here?
Actresses. It's different.
Mr Fabian enters, dramatically gotten-up like Lord Byron. The whole bar bursts
into applause. He bows. Breakenridge jumps up from his table, excited:
Here, Mr Fabian, have this table.
He seats Fabian near the faro game, gets him some champagne.
Oh, thank you. You're very kind.
Mr. Fabian, I've got to tell you,
That's the most wonderful thing I
Ever saw. What was that?
Henry's all right but he's no
Match for the Melancholy Dane.
(sees his confusion)
Hamlet, dear friend, the supreme
Role of any actor worth his salt.
(leans in, points to Wyatt)
Here's a man you should meet, Mr.
Fabian. Excellent character study
For you, the real-life actual
Indeed, sir? How so?
Well he hems, he haws, he talks
Out of both sides of his
Mouth-but all on a very high
Plane, just like Hamlet.
Getting drunk, Doc.
Doc chuckles. Suddenly Curly Bill looms over the faro table with Ringo and a
drunken Ike Clanton.
Wyatt Earp, huh? I heard of you.
Listen, Mr. Kansas Law-dog. Law
Don't go around her. Savvy?
Good. That's real good.
Yeah, that's good, Mr. Law-dog,
'cause law don't go around here.
I heard you the first time.
Shut up, Ike.
(steps up to Doc)
And you must be Doc Holliday.
That's the rumor.
You retired, too?
Not me. I'm in my prime.
Yeah, you look it.
And you must be Ringo. Look,
Darling, Johnny Ringo. The
Deadliest pistoleer since Wild
Bill, they say. What do you
Think, darling? Should I hate him?
You don't even know him.
Yes, but there's just something
About him. Something around
The eyes, I don't know, reminds me
Of... me. No. I'm sure of it, I
In vino veritas.
Age quod agis.
Credat Judaeus Apella.
Ecentus stultorum magister.
(Cheshire cat smile)
In pace requiescat.
Come on now. We don't want any
Trouble in here. Not in any language.
Evidently Mr. Ringo's an educated
Man. Now I really hate him.
Ringo looks at Doc, holding his gaze while suddenly whipping out his .45. Everyone
but Doc flinches. Ringo does a dazzling series of twirls and tricks, his nickel-plated
pistol flashing like a blaze of silver fire, finally slapping it back into his
holster with a flourish. Cheers and hoots. Doc rolls his eyes, hooks a finger
through the handle of his silver cup, then launches into an exact duplication
of Ringo's routine using a cup instead of a gun. The room bursts into laughter.
Doc shrugs. Ringo lets a strange little hint of a smile cross his face then
exits with the others. White exhales, turns to Wyatt:
See what I mean about it getting
Curly Bill, huh? Who was that
Ike Clanton, Old Man's eldest
Son. Know he ain't got the stuff,
Makes him miserable.
Yeah, and dangerous.
Sitting up on the bar to see the show, Josephine turns to Behan:
The man dealing faro. Who is he?
That's Wyatt Earp. Made quite a
Name for himself as a peace
Officer in Kansas.
A peace officer... Impressive man
Yes, very. And very married.
Oh, so that's it...
EXT - ALLEN STREET/ORIENTAL - NIGHT
Curly Bill steps out with Ike and Ringo. He looks around.
I feel like doin' somethin'.
Hey, Chinky! Come here a minute...
An old Chinaman minces by. Curly Bill dashes after him...
BACK & FORTH INT/EXT - ORIENTAL / ALLEN STREET - NIGHT
Later. Doc is at the piano, drunk as a lord but playing Chopin flawlessly. Kate
pours him another drink.
That's my lovin' man. Just can't
Now the High-Roller comes reeling up, loud and gratingly drunk.
Hey, is that "Old Dog Tray"?
Sounds like "Old Dog Tray".
You know, Stephen Foster. "Oh,
Susanna". "Camptown Races",
I see, well this happens to be a
You know, Frederic-fucking-Chopin.
Doc plays on. Josephine leaves with Behan. Morgan sighs:
Now that wounds me. Little tin
Swain walkin' off with that black
Beauty. I mean I'm a married man
And all but still, it ain't right.
Wyatt grunts and nods, perturbed. Outside the others mount up but Curly Bill
stands drugged-up in the middle of the street, arms out, head back, eyes closed,
luxuriating in the moonlight.
Boy, I feel great! Full of that
Hop I got from Chinky. I feel
Just capitol! You boys go ahead.
I'm gonna stick around awhile,
Howl at the moon.
The others shrug and ride off. Curly Bill pulls his pistol, spinning it. Back
inside the Oriental it's late, few patrons remain. A few beats then suddenly
everyone jumps as GUNSHOTS echo from outside. White goes to the window, looks
Curly Bill. He's over across the
Street shootin' out the lights.
This is great, this is just great.
Just then Behan dashes in, white as a sheet, Josephine in tow:
Have you been out in the street?
Somebody's got to do something.
You're the Sheriff.
It's not County business, it's a
Outside Curly Bill starts taking potshots at a passerby's feet, making him dance
down the street and scurry for cover. Curly Bill cackles. Inside White turns
uneasily to Wyatt:
Why don't you just leave it alone?
No, I gotta do something. I don't
Suppose you'd card-
None of my business, Fred.
Wyatt keeps dealing, Doc keeps playing. White draws himself up and exits. Outside,
Curly Bill reloads and keeps shooting. White steps out into the s treet. We
feel a sense of inverted terror as he draws his gun and we SEE that his hand
is trembling. He crosses the street, coming up behind Curly Bill:
Hey, Curly? Come on now, boy...
Curly Bill spins around. White's gun stares him in the face.
Well, howdy, Fred!
Back in the bar, Wyatt puts his cards down, looks over at Doc.
Maybe I ought to go out there.
You will or you won't. Don't look
To me. I'm going to sleep.
Doc lays his head down on the keys, passes out. Wyatt frowns for a moment. Finally
he stands, turning to Morgan:
Go wake up Virgil.
(turns to Joyce)
Hey Milt, lend me a sidearm, will you?
Joyce hands him a Colt from under the bar. Outside White covers Curly Bill,
trembling harder now. An adrenaline rush in a man White's age is hard to look
at, he seems so frail, so vulnerable. Even his voice has a quavering edge to
Hand that over. Come on now.
Why sure, dad. I'm only in fun.
Here she is.
With a reassuring smile, Curly Bill holds his pistol out butt-first. White reaches
for it, visibly relieved. But quick as a snake's tongue Curly Bill spins it
around and FIRES POINT BLANK into White's chest, blowing him over backward,
the blast so close it sets his clothes on fire. Curly Bill turns just as Wyatt
flashes into frame and SLAMS him over the head with his pistol barrel, laying
him out in a groaning heap. Wyatt glances at White lying semi-conscious in the
street, chest heaving, eyelids fluttering, making weak little bird-like sounds,
smoke rising from his smoldering shirt and vest. Clum runs up:
Put his clothes out.
Clum pats the embers out in White's clothes but as Wyatt starts to haul Curly
Bill up he suddenly finds himself surrounded by Ike, Billy Clanton, and six
Turn loose of him.
He just killed a man.
He said to turn loose of him.
Well I'm not so go home.
Swear to God, Mister, step aside
Or we'll tear you apart.
The Cowboys tense up, ready for action. Wyatt holds his ground, his hard, steady
gaze zeroing in on Ike:
You. Come here a second.
Ike steps up, full of brass. Without warning Wyatt jabs the muzzle of his pistol
into his forehead, snapping his head back. Wyatt cocks the pistol. The other
Cowboys hush. Ike freezes. Wyatt's eyes bore into him.
You die first, get it? The others
Might get me in a rush but before
That I'm gonna make your head
Into a canoe. Understand?
Ike stands stock still. Billy steps forward, undaunted:
He's bluffin'! Let's rush him!
This is it. The Cowboys poise themselves, ready to start, but:
And you, you simpleton, you're next.
Again a hush. Doc stands behind Wyatt, still drunk, but with his .38 trained
on Billy. Billy sneers:
Hell, he can't hit nothin'. He's
So drunk he's probably seein'
Doc pulls out his .45, training it, too, on Billy:
I have two guns. One for each of you.
Billy pauses, chastened. Suddenly there's another commotion as Virgil and Morgan
bull their way through the crowd from behind with shotguns.
All right, look out! Break it up.
Go home, all of you, go home now...
This breads the group's will and things suddenly calm down dramatically as the
Cowboys disperse. Wyatt lowers his pistol, heaving a sigh of relief as he pulls
the still-groggy Curly Bill to his feet and hauls him reeling toward the jail.
Come on, you...
Crack me back of the head like
Some stinkin' bull. Hell, you
Ain't no fightin' man, you're
Just a cop.
EXT - JAIL/ALLEN STREET/HOTEL - NIGHT
Later. As the Earps and Doc step out on the sidewalk we can see the semi-conscious
Curly Bill through the front door of the jail laying in one of the cells, holding
a bloody kerchief to his head. Wyatt closes the door, locks it, gives Clum the
There. He'll keep till morning
The street is quiet as they start back toward the Oriental. Virgil and Morgan
following at a discreet distance, smirking:
Keep your eye on that brass ring.
Don't let anything side-track you.
I know, I need a keeper.
Meanwhile across the street at the hotel Josephine turns to Behan.
Well I guess you can see, never a
Dull moment. Maybe you should
Stay around to see what happens
Next. Who know? You might find a
Maybe even my destiny.
INT - ORIENTAL - DAY
Morgan's hound sleeps in the corner while Virgil and Morgan shoot pool. Wyatt
...but he says did I actually see
it happen and I said, no, when I
arrived Fred'd already been shot.
So the judge said, can't have a
Murder without a witness-case
Dismissed. Can you beat it? After
All that. Oh hell, who cares,
None of my business anyways.
Clum enters, frowning and anxious, just as Morgan sinks a shot.
Boy, I love this game. When we're
Finally set we gotta each have a
Billiard room in our houses.
Excuse me, Wyatt, just a moment,
Please, I wanted to try and
Reason with you. We still haven't
Found a Marshal and-
Come on Mayor, he already told
What about you? You were a lawman.
I'm busy. We're all busy. Sorry,
Mayor, but you're really barkin'
Up the wrong tree.
You tell 'em, Virge.
Clum exits shaking his head. They keep playing. After a beat:
You know, I was thinkin', maybe
We ought to open our own place.
That's the real money. Build it
Up, milk it for all it's worth,
Then sell it off for a bundle and
Breeze out of this burg with more
Money than Croesus and ready to
Live like kings. Let's you and me
Take a walk around town, Virge,
See if we can scout us out a
Couple of nice lots.
I can't hardly believe it. It's
Working out just like you said,
Wyatt. We're lootin' this burg
Six ways through Sunday.
Pretty fun too, isn't it?
Kinda, actually, yeah. I gotta admit.
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