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, huh?

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? Huh? Huh?!

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?

¡Adiós!

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, huh?

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-story 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, huh?

The reception committee is forming.

Hold it.

Hold it right there.

Anything wrong?

Turn that rig around and get it down the hill.

I need six men up here.

Yahoo!

Boys, the drinks are on me!

Hey! Hey!

I'd like to buy you a drink. And your friend, too.

Thanks.

Where are you from?

Oh, yeah. Where are you goin'?

Thanks for the free show.

You're more than welcome.

Boy, that was really something. I won't forget that if I live to be a hundred.

Henry, the stage is leavin'!

All right, all right!

Wait till Flora hears about this. Y'know, she won't believe one word of it.

Henry! The stage! Come on!

You keep this.

Where are you headed?

I'm drifting south, more or less.

You?

Just driftin'.

Any action here?

Yeah. Grocery clerk and bouncer

in one of those bars across the street, if that's your taste.

Yeah.

Well... see ya.

Say, uh... what's your name?

Make it Vin.

What's yours?

Chris.

Yes?

We think you are a man we can trust.

Thank you very much.

We wish you to help us.

There's this man, Calvera.

A thief. A murderer.