The Revengers Page #3

Synopsis: The life of peaceful rancher John Benedict (William Holden) is torn apart when his family is massacred by a gang of marauding outlaws and his farm is destroyed. He assembles a team of mean, lawless convicts to act as his posse as he pursues the gang responsible for the deaths of his loved ones.
 
IMDB:
6.0
PG
Year:
1972
106 min
134 Views


Rest of you, get on the wagon.

Mr. Zweig, you take the reins.

- Okay, sir.

Him, drive? Why he... Mr. Hoop.

Yes, sir.

Leave the guns. Yes, sir.

I don't know.

I won't say something

I might not mean...

I still got to think some more.

You do that.

Hot dang, l'll tell you,

we're in my country now, men!

Yes, sir!

Hi, fellow Americans, how you doing?

Wait for me, ladies!

I come back in a little while.

Wait for me, ladies!

Everybody in here.

Man, I seen purple shirts,

but never like that.

I tell you, l'm beginning to

feel like a genuine human being.

Don't make the mistake

of thinking you are one.

Get off my neck,

you high-toned greaser.

You call me greaser once more,

I kill you!

You see this?

It isn't an umbrella, bub.

Don't start talking about killing unless

you want your head blown clean off.

Camp over here.

I don't think we're going

to camp here, Mr. Benedict.

You don't seem surprised, seor.

No.

I took a long chance on all of you.

You're the galldangdest

fool I ever seen.

'Give me your word,' he says.

Well, how do you like the word

we're giving you now, Mr. Benedict?

Mr. Benedict...

you have appealed to

the honour of men...

who have no honour.

Even you, Cholo?

I have no time for this

thing you want to do, seor.

Why we talk? Let's get the money.

You get the money, Mr. Quiberon.

It's in my saddlebag.

Don't touch your gun, mister.

If I do, l'll take you first,

Chamaco.

Try it.

Hot dang,

I told you about that greased holster.

I don't think maybe you could

kill all of us, Mr. Benedict.

No, but I could drop three of you.

But then I wouldn't

get to Pueblo Plata.

So I suggest that you just take

the money and we'll part company.

Go ahead, Mr. Quiberon.

Them horses of his would

bring $100 extra or so.

Now, that's another thing, Mr. Hoop.

Without my horses,

I can't get to where l'm going...

so we'd better just

shoot it out right now.

Maybe this'll make it a little

more even for you, Mr. Benedict.

Well, now...

what the hell are you doing?

You're with us.

I ain't one of nobody but myself...

and myself says...

this man keeps his horses.

It's all right.

I ain't starting no shoot-out.

Hell, you can keep your damn horses.

Adis, seor Benedict.

l'll give you my word now.

But I don't know why.

l'll think about it later.

I don't owe you nothing, mister.

I could have worn them

chains all my life...

and I wouldn't have give a damn.

It was when they sold me to

the breeding farm for slaves...

that's when I said to

myself I was a man.

They used to whip me but they couldn't

make me hump none of them gals.

I sure picked the wrong time to decide

I wasn't going to be a slave no more.

You know...

two of us can't do any more

good at Pueblo Plata than one.

You can make tracks any time.

Ain't just going to be the two of us,

and you know it.

You're counting on some

of them coming back.

I admit I had some such idea,

but it looked like I gambled wrong.

I shared a lot of misery with

them men and I know them, too.

Zweig's more sad than bad.

And the Frenchman, he loves a fight.

Cholo? He's a sidewinder.

Hoop, he ain't coming back

because he ain't worth spit.

What about Chamaco?

He's liable to come

back just to kill you.

In that case, Job, we stay here.

He's just dead drunk.

I know. I can smell him from here.

l'll come back.

Step down, Chamaco,

we'll have some grub in a while.

I don't want your food.

Well, your horse may.

There's some grain in

the pack over there.

Looks like you had a

good time last night.

I got no money left.

I give all my share of your

money to a beautiful lady.

I can make out.

I still had $300 in my boots.

Mr. Benedict, this is not honest.

That's an interesting way of

looking at it, Mr. Quiberon.

I hear horses.

Wake the others.

Job.

You three get behind the bank there.

Why you pick me to come with you?

- Listen.

That direction. You stay here.

Seor Benedict.

If you are there, hold your fire.

It is I, Cholo.

It's me, too, Mr. Benedict.

But hot damn, don't shoot now.

I dragged this cabrn along

because he might be useful.

Bullshit.

I come back on my own free will.

I can see that. Cholo, untie him.

Zweig, take the horses. Okay, sir.

And then we'll have

a council of war...

and Mr. Hoop's going to tell

us what we want to know...

about Pueblo Plata.

Pueblo Plata? Come on now.

I don't know what

you're talking about.

Pueblo... Wait a minute, fellows.

God damn it! Come on, come over here.

Damn it, let go of me.

Now look, I ain't gonna

take you to no Pueblo Plata.

If you don't take us...

you don't go anywhere.

All right.

Now look what you went and done.

You drawn blood.

We're going to play mumbly-peg

with your head, Comanchero!

No!

All right,

l'll bring you to Pueblo Plata...

but it won't do no good.

If you think you're going to fool

them, you got worms in your head.

Traders, guns and whiskey.

If the Comancheros want to

look at them empty packs...

before we get to Plata...

it's going to be a Merry

Christmas in Hell, l'll tell you.

A Merry Christmas in Hell.

Have you been down to Mexico much?

Some when I was younger.

When was that?

I was on a border survey

about 20 years ago.

You ever got to a place

called Villa Acua?

Might have.

You remember, wouldn't you?

lt's right on the border.

I don't remember. Why do you ask?

I used to live there once.

That's all.

How many in your family?

Five.

- How many women?

My wife, two daughters.

You had two sons?

That's right.

- How old your sons?

One was just a youngster,

the other was 18.

You know,

l'm not much older than him.

He looked like you?

No, looked like his mother.

I look like my mother...

except she got black eyes,

I got blue.

She's dead, my mother.

Well, I hope she died peacefully.

Her name was Secundina.

Now look, Mr. Benedict, we're going

to get our asses blown clean off.

I tell you,

they're watching us right now.

I hope so, Mr. Hoop.

But don't you understand?

That fellow Tarp will kill us.

All stone dead!

We have company, Mr. Benedict.

That's right, Mr. Quiberon.

Gentlemen,

raise your rifles over your head...

and get a smile on your face.

You, too, Mr. Hoop.

Now talk to him.

He wants to know what we want here.

Tell him I got a present for him.

Easy now.

That son of a b*tch's name is Katwa.

I seen him gut children

just for sport.

Now he wants you to

open up them packages...

and see what's inside.

Tell him we're going to

deal with the white man.

Go on, tell him!

Tarp, there's a party coming in.

Wake up, Tarp.

Tarp!

How many? How far? I can't tell yet!

Damn Indians!

They know better than to

bring somebody up here.

Rally must have known them or

they wouldn't be bringing them in.

Bullshit.

You go down and you talk to

those people. You stop them.

And you stall them! All right.

Indios!

Bill, take the point!

Look here, Mr. Benedict...

you're crazy if you think you're

going to fool these Comancheros...

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Wendell Mayes

Wendell Curran Mayes (July 21, 1919 – March 28, 1992) was a Hollywood screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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