The Magnificent Seven

Hilario.

Papa!

Sotero! My good friend.

How are ya?

You have a drink?

I can't tell you what a pleasure

it is to see a village like this.

Santos!

So much restlessness and

change in the outside world.

People no longer content

with their station in life.

Women's fashions? Shameless.

Cigar.

Mire! Religion!

You'd weep if you saw how true

religion is now a thing of the past.

Last month we were in San Juan...

a rich town. Sit down.

Rich town, much blessed by God.

Big church.

Not like here... little church,

priest comes twice a year. Big one!

You think we find gold candlesticks,

poor box filled to overflowing?

You know what we found?

Brass candlesticks, almost

nothing in the poor box.

But we took it anyway.

I know we took it anyway.

I'm trying to show him how little

religion some people now have.

That I could see for myself.

Don't see!

What if you had

to carry my load?

The need to provide food, like a father,

to fill the mouths of his hungry men.

Guns. Ammunition.

You know how much money

that costs?!

No.

The days of good

hunting are over.

Once there was horses, cattle, gold,

fruit from the trees. No more.

Now I must hunt with a price on

my head, rurales at my heels.

I'll be back.

Enough!

We'll get the rest

when we come back.

I love this village.

I know you have

your problems...

Murderer! Thief!

Rafael!

Rafael!

Rafael...

Rafael!

Stupid!

Stupid!

We have to have another

discussion very soon.

It's always a pleasure to hear the

views of my good friend Sotero.

Maybe when I come back, hm?

Adios!

Let's go!

Help me bring him in.

If he steals

our harvest again...

we might as well cut our

throats and be done with it!

Leave the valley.

That's what we must do.

Live somewhere else?

Take our homes

with us? Our farms?

We... could hide some food.

From Calvera? He never

steals all our food.

He leaves us

enough to go on with.

That's something.

We could beg him

to leave us more.

No, no. That would make him more angry.

I don't think we should do anything.

We must do something!

Like Rafael? Talk sense.

We break our backs in the fields,

and our bellies stay empty.

We must do something!

We must do something.

But what?

I don't know.

We'll ask the old man.

He'll know.

Fight.

You must fight. Fight!

With machetes and bare

hands against guns?!

Buy guns.

Buy?

Go to the border.

Guns are plentiful there.

But what are we

going to use for money?

Sell that.

And anything else

you can collect.

Even if we had the guns...

we know how to plant and grow

We don't know how to kill.

Then learn.

Or die.

Hey! I've been waitin' for you.

Oh, you did a wonderful job.

I'm sorry, but

there'll be no funeral.

What?!

The grave's dug, and the defunct is as

ready as the embalmer can make him...

but there'll be no funeral.

Didn't I pay you enough?

It's not a question of money. For $20, I'd

plant anybody with a whoop and a holler.

But the funeral's off.

Well, how d'ya like that?!

I want him buried. You want him buried.

If he could talk, he'd second the motion.

That's as unanimous

as you can get.

You've behaved

like a Christian, but...

Now, look. I'm not

lookin' for any praise.

I'm a traveling salesman...

ladies' corsets.

I'm walking down the street

and a man drops dead.

For two hours people stepped over

him, without lifting a finger.

I'm doing what

any decent man would.

Come on, Henry...

No! This man has to be buried.

Soon. He's not

turning into a nosegay.

I know. I would

if I could, but...

there's an element

in town that objects.

Objects? To what?

They say he isn't

fit to be buried there.

What? In Boot Hill?

There's nothing there but

murderers, cutthroats and barflies.

And if they ever felt

exclusive, they're past it now.

They happen to be

white, friend.

And old Sam...

Well, old Sam was an Indian.

Well, I'll be damned!

I never knew you had to be anything

but a corpse to get into Boot Hill.

How long's this been going on?

Since the town got civilized.

It's not my doin', boys.

I don't like it. No, sir.

I've always treated every man

as another future customer.

In that case,

get that hearse rollin'.

My driver's quit.

He's prejudiced too?

If it comes to gettin'

his head blown off.

Well, get somebody else.

Nobody else will drive it!

So here.

Oh, hell! If that's all that's holding

things up, I'll drive the rig.

Can I borrow that scatter-gun?

You're more than welcome.

Hey! Wait a minute there.

This hearse cost me $840.

It's the only one

in the county.

I'll be darned if

I let it be shot at.

I'll pay for the damages.

I wanna see this.

Me, too!

Never rode shotgun

on a hearse before.

Let her buck.

New in town?

Yeah.

Where are you from?

Dodge. You?

Tombstone. See any

action up there?

Tombstone?

Same. People all

settled down, like.

Same all over.

Injun lovers!

Easy. Just wind.

We'll get there.

It's not gettin' up there

that bothers me.

It's stayin' up there

that I mind.

Comin' up behind

us on the left.

I don't think so.

Second-storey window.

Curtain moved.

I'm not in a good position.

Let him stick his neck out.

You elected?

No.

I got nominated real good.

Boys, why don't you just turn around now...

save yourselves a lot of trouble?

Soon?

The reception

committee is forming.

Hold it.

Hold it right there.

Anything wrong?

Turn that rig around

and get it down the hill.

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