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[Chris hears O'Reilly's three local boys call him "Bernardo".]
Chris Adams: You've been adopted. "Bernardo O'Reilly".
O'Reilly: That's my real name. Irish on one side, Mexican on the other, and me in the middle.
Chris Adams: You've been adopted. "Bernardo O'Reilly".
O'Reilly: That's my real name. Irish on one side, Mexican on the other, and me in the middle.
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[Chico rides into the village with Petra across his saddle bow.]
Chris: So that's where they were. You hid them.
Chico: Sure, they hid them, but she won't tell where. They're afraid -- she's afraid -- of me, you, him... all of us. Farmers. Their families told them we'd rape them.
Chris: Well, we might. In my opinion, though, you might have given us the benefit of the doubt. Well, just as you please.
Vin: You know, as long as you were out there, why didn't you bring 'em all in?
Chico: What for? Leave them out there. Let Calvera find them. He'll take good care of them.
Chris: Bring them in. (to Petra) Show him where.
Chris: So that's where they were. You hid them.
Chico: Sure, they hid them, but she won't tell where. They're afraid -- she's afraid -- of me, you, him... all of us. Farmers. Their families told them we'd rape them.
Chris: Well, we might. In my opinion, though, you might have given us the benefit of the doubt. Well, just as you please.
Vin: You know, as long as you were out there, why didn't you bring 'em all in?
Chico: What for? Leave them out there. Let Calvera find them. He'll take good care of them.
Chris: Bring them in. (to Petra) Show him where.
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If you can't forget about him, why don't you ride sidesaddle?
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[Scouting for gunmen in a local saloon.]
Miguel: There's one! Look at all the scars on his face!
Hilario: The man for us is the one who gave him that face.
Chris Adams: Hey, you learn fast.
Miguel: There's one! Look at all the scars on his face!
Hilario: The man for us is the one who gave him that face.
Chris Adams: Hey, you learn fast.
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We deal in lead, friend.
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Fight. You must fight. Fight!
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I never rode shotgun on a hearse before.
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Yeah, I'm one of us, all right.
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The days of good hunting are over. Once there was cattle, horses, fruit from the trees... no more. Now I must hunt with a price on my head, Rurales at my heels.
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You lost.
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Shows you -- sooner or later you must answer for every good deed.
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Nobody throws me my own guns and tells me to ride on. Nobody.
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If he rides in with no idea of the reception we can prepare for him... I promise you, we'll all teach him something about the price of corn.
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You know what? They'll make up a song about you and this hat. Villages like this, they make up a song about every big thing that happens. They'll sing it for years.
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(whispering) Just a little gesture, huh? To show these people who the real boss is. You go, then I give you the guns back. I know you won't use those guns against me. Only a crazy-man makes the same mistake twice.