The Furies
- NOT RATED
- Year:
- 1950
- 109 min
- 343 Views
- Buenas noches, patrn.
- Good evening.
Gracias.
So it's you.
I might have known.
I might have known no one but you would
have bone enough to come into her room here.
I neglected to order a gown for your wedding.
I'm trying to make one of hers do.
I think a sister should favor her brother's
wedding with her best appearance, don't you?
I don't think T.C. Will like this, Vance.
You know he's been particular about
keeping her room same as before she died.
Mother had everything.
Calling cards for a woman whose
next-door neighbor was miles off.
Jewels for a woman who never
looked at herself in the mirror.
Sunshades for a woman
who never left this room.
You understood her.
I never did.
No, you never did.
I'm only surprised he hasn't
hung a sign on this.
"Beth. Wifely property ofT.C. Jeffords."
And you're T.C.'s son,
and he despises anything he can beat.
I never let him beat me.
Why do you always let him get the best of you?
Isn't it writ in the Scripture?
"Honor thy father."
Always laughing at me inside you,
aren't you, Clay?
Not always.
Why do you suppose T.C. Is coming back
from San Francisco?
- Why, for my wedding, of course.
- Ha!
I know. T.C. Wouldn't
walk across the street to my wedding.
- Then why is he coming back?
- I think he needs money.
T.C.? Oh, you must be moon-hit.
Why, he's one of the richest men
in the territory- in the whole country.
Cattle-rich. Land-rich.
I make it he's money-poor right now.
And I make it that's why
he's had Scotty taking tally.
And that's why
he's spreading these I.O.U.s.
Oh, they're easy to spread.
Less easy to pay off.
T.C.!
Patrn.! Patrn.!
Welcome home.
Had a hankerir to bed down
in my own tepee tonight.
Got the railroad to flag me
right through to The Furies.
You were in her room.
That's right.
Her gown befiits you.
Father.
Son, you make "Father" sound
just like "son of a she-fox."
Daughter, Son, meet Reynolds here.
Reynolds from
Old Anaheim's Bank in San Francisco.
Reynolds, meet my household.
Scratch my sixth lumbar vertebra.
This here is Scotty Hyslip.
Scotty keeps my accounts.
The man who made all those bear raids
on the Huron Railroad stock...
and then took to swindlir
on the sound theory...
that the things folks want most in life
is to get something for nothing.
Oh, souvenir. The time I met up
with a party of Osages...
and got an arrow
in my sixth lumbar vertebra.
The scar vexes me now and then and takes
kindly to scratchir.
This be El Tigre!
The Tiger.
- My ranch boss.
- Senor.
El Tigre won victory after victory, for his
love of his people was known to his people.
Then he hung a man.
And it was justly.
He was so taken with the dance on the air
he begun hanging his people.
And unjustly.
His people took just so many hangings.
You tell Old Anaheim I got only the best
working The Furies for me.
Marcel, my cook there, once dished up a mess
Napolon would give him a blue ribbon for.
And when I gifted my deceased wife...
with a portrait of myself, I -
Pretty good, huh?
Chiquita.
- There's dust on me.
- S, patrn. But I did not expect you until tomorrow.
Cook here will rustle up a fiine mess
for an hour from now.
Ah, vamoose, the rest of ya.
I got a hankering to be with my kin. Vamoose!
Vamoose!
- T.C., you talk too much.
- So I do, and so I will...
till I meet up with talk better than mine.
- Where is it?
- Where's what?
- The necklace you said you'd bring back.
- Clay, you got a mess of good manners.
You ought to feed your sister
some of'em.
Well, here's what you been
"peskying" me about.
Pearls. Fit for dull, dove-faced little women.
I told you, anything but pearls.
You didn't dare come back
without it, did you?
I'd bed down with a rattlesnake fiirst.
Like it, Daughter?
So did I.
It'll match her earrings.
Well, I'll go up to my room now.
For your bride.
My deepest gratitude, Father.
An hour in the room whenever
he comes back to The Furies...
an hour whenever he leaves.
And yet when she was dying
and sent for him, he wouldn't come.
He couldn't stand to see anything
that belonged to him slip away from him.
I like being T.C.'s daughter.
Yes, princess,
heiress apparent to The Furies.
Anaheim picked himself
a smart appraiser.
This is the Darrow Strip,
best part ofThe Furies.
Darrow's son -
he is come back to the town.
I thought I'd seen me
the last piece of Darrow hide.
If you permit, patrn,
leave this piece to me, eh?
I permit.
Come on.
- What's that?
- Sounds like a calf bawlir.
- Where do you make it?
- There. Down the draw.
Be a lesson to him
not to get himself stuck in the mud.
He didn't get stuck.
He's been stuck. It's a squatter's trick.
They mire a calf
and then come for him later.
- No, no. You'll choke him. I'll get him.
- You'll do what?
- You heard me.
- Many squatters here on The Furies?
- Some.
The people in the pueblecitos -
the little villages - they matter not...
but back in the hills there are others.
You're paid to make sure
the squatters don't rob us.
- Next time earn your pay.
Quite a friendship
between you and Miss Vance.
Women were created so that man
might enjoy his food and sleep...
not to give orders.
All right now!
Come on.! Now take it easy.
I'm trying to lend you a hand!
- Patrn.
Ha! Did it!
Didrt think the old man had it in him,
did ya?
Ah, you grinnir ranahans!
Throw me a rope.
It must be a calf.
It looks like a man, but it can't be.
Only a brainless calf would
get himself stuck in the mud.
T.C., you come out of there.
You're too old to play at mud-pies.
No, muchachos.
What are they saying?
That never will they have
a fiiner chance to kill the patrn.
Never will they fiind him
with fewer men to help him.
Juanito -
S, Juanito.!
There is to be no trouble while she is here.
No guns.
That goes for you too.
You stashed my calf away here!
- Yeah.
- I told you before.
SenorJeffords...
it has always been our right on the land -
the right of we, the Herreras,
and those of the pueblecitos...
for as many years back
as you have hairs on your head!
Stop stealing cattle from The Furies!
I told you once, I tell you now.
I'll not tell you again.
At least he riled you enough
so you walked yourself out of the mud.
- For a fact!
- I tell you, if the devil riled you enough...
you'll walk yourself
right out of the fiires of hell.
- I give you my word, if I do, Daughter,
I'll take you right out of there with me.
Rightly speakir, it's no concern of yourn, but
I think it only fiit and proper you be a party to it.
Reynolds here representing Anaheim's Bank
has loaned me $100,000 on The Furies.
- That's right.
- Speak when you're spoken to.
- You favor my Napolon, huh?
- It's a fiine work.
He was a great one.
Started from scratch
to build hisself an empire.
Hey, how do you like me?
Well, no matter. No matter.
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"The Furies" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 3 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_furies_8704>.
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