Bret and a family of British nobles lose all they have to a ruthless gang leaving them penniless and stranded in the wild. Bret must convince the Brits that their only chance of surviving is to track down the outlaws and take back what was stolen.
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Lady Ellen Belcastle
Benson the Butler
Jack Kelly's name is seen in the credits as Bart Maverick but he does not appear in the episode.
Bret: What are you a fellow of?
Albert: Of infinite jest.
In his exchange of repartee with Bret, Albert is quoting from William Shakespeare's Hamlet.
Discontinuity: Lord Belcastle doesn't grow any whiskers during the trudge across the desert but Bret Maverick and Albert Belcastle do.
Bret: (coming to) Where am I?
Ellen: You're going to be alright. You're at Belcastle Cottage.
Albert: Wyoming. Permit me: my niece, Lady Ellen Belcastle; my brother, Norbert, Marquis of Belcastle, Viscount Darrow, Baron of Lessingham-Burnie and fellow of the Royal Historical Society - one handshake will do nicely for all of them. I'm merely Alfred Belcastle.
Bret: My name is Bret Maverick. What are you a fellow of?
Albert: Of infinite jest.
Albert: My brother Norbert has an unfailing sense of the fitness of things. I should warn you, Mr. Maverick, that when we speak of the thin red line of Empire, it's Norbert Belcastle whom we have in mind.
Bret: Eh … What's a Marquis?
Ellen: A Marquis … is something between a Duke and an Earl. Technically, it's a royal officer guarding the border regions or marches.
Bret: Like Wyoming?
Ellen: Heaven's no, you're all independent now. Now please, settle down and rest.
Bret: When you're talking to a Marquis, what do you call him?
Ellen: Most people say, "Lord Belcastle" or "My Lord".
Bret: I guess I better call him "Lord Belcastle" - the other sounds like swearing.
Bret: You moved to America for business reasons.
Norbert: Good Heaven's, no. We're merely moving a bit of capital. As soon as we've got things here ship shape, in blissful fashion, it's hipity-hop and home again.
Albert: The new colonialism, old boy. Don't send troops, send money.
Norbert: I say, Maybrook …
Norbert: What what?
Ellen: His name's not Maybrook, Father. It's Maverick.
Norbert: Tosh. There's no such name as Maverick. What would it mean?
Bret: Well, back home in Texas, a maverick is a calf that's lost its mother and its father has run off with another cow.
Norbert: A founding?
Bret: No, it's just a lostling.
(Bret's thousand dollar bill has been burned along with his old clothes)
Albert: Isn't that rather a large bank note to lug about loose in one's pocket?
Bret: I kept it pinned.
Albert: That makes all the difference.
Bret: My father insisted on it. He said my brother and I were so shiftless that if…we didn't carry at least a thousand dollars, we'd starve to death.
Ellen: I say, Maverick, my horse seems to have picked up a pebble.
Bret: If he can do that, maybe you can teach him to juggle?
Ellen: (applauds sarcastically) Here, here.
Ellen: I say, you are a fright. What in pity's name have you been doing?
Bret: Pitching fodder into the loft.
Bret: So when winter comes I can climb back up there and pitch it down again.
Ellen: I see. Poor Maverick, there must be something better suited to your talents.
Bret: There is - but these cowhands don't have any money until payday. I don't suppose you play cards?
Norbert: There's no way in saying it's been rather upstream for you, but become so discarded you want strike out … on foot?
Bret: Lord Belcastle, it comes down to this : I'd like to have a horse and a saddle and a grubstake, but on my income - which is twelve dollars a month - they're luxuries I just can't afford.
Norbert: Mustn't take the short view, Maybrook, it's merely a matter of sticking it through.
Bret: Well, I've stuck it through wars and fence wars and prison camps and cattle drives. I fought Yankees and Indians and grizzly bears and prize fighters, but there's just one thing I can't fight : the fact that I just wasn't cut out to be a cowboy.
Norbert: I dare say you know more about it than I, but …Grizzly bear? Ursus horribilis? Are you a huntsman?
Bret: Well, I've shot more of them than they have of me.
Bret: Two days across the grasslands and five days across the desert taught me one thing about the British aristocracy : when they talk about roughing it, that means no fresh cream for the 4 o'clock tea.
Norbert: Ah, nothing like the warm, dry exhilarating air of the desert. We could stand a bit of this in England, you know. One more day and we shall reach the highlands.
Albert: And I forgot to bring my kilts.
Norbert: I say, Maybrook, what cheer?
Bret: Can't complain, your Lordship. How are things over in the officer's mess?
Norbert: That's what I like to hear, bit of healthy grouching from the ranks.
Bret: I'll try to oblige.
Bret: As my pappy used to say, it'd be a pitiful thing if I ever tried to work for a living. "Son," he said, "use your wits, 'cause the Lord didn't give you brains".
Albert: That's really quite droll.
Norbert: You must never listen to that sort of talk, Maybrook. If you think you can do a thing, you can do it.
Bret: I guess they were the Shaughnessy's, a bunch of outlaws on the run. They figured they needed everything they took.
Ellen: Tablecloths? Women's clothing? I think they were simply a set of bounders - enjoying our predicament.
Bret: They were on the run, Lady Ellen. If they were just out on a picnic, they'd have invited you along.
Norbert: It's going to be a "rum go", but we shall try to make do with what we have.
Norbert: One looks for water by following game trails, by searching the valleys and impressions, by watching the flights of birds.
Albert: If there's a bird within a hundred miles of here he seems to be painfully shy.
Bret: Belcastle, you're the first man I've ever seen who tried to draw three cards to fill a straight.
Norbert: That's picturesque, but unintelligible.
Albert: You still think Norbert's ill-advised, do you?
Bret: Oh, he's well-advised, he's just too stupid to listen.
Albert: Then why are you jogging along with us?
Bret: Well, I can't let you just wander off and die!
Albert: Oh … how thoughtful.
Bret: This "thin red line of Empire" is beginning to look pretty thick to me.
Ellen: And what is that intended to mean?
Bret: You make a stupid decision, er, "his worship" here makes it for ya, and you stick to it the rest of your lives - that's only going to be 2 or 3 days.
Norbert: We've heard quite enough from you.
Bret: I thought one day without food and water would show you you're going the wrong way, but I keep forgetting who you people are. It takes you longer to get the point.
Bret: Try to get this through your thick skulls : I am sick of the sight of you. If I had a snowball's chance of making it back by myself, I'd leave the three of ya out here to talk each other to death!
Ellen: Thank you very much!
Norbert: I can't make it back alone! I'd need help when I got to the mountains - and I'm going to have help. If I have to kill one of ya - to get the other two back - I'll do it.
Albert: You know something, Maverick?
Bret: What's that?
Albert: The last person to depose a Belcastle was King Harold Harefoot - 1039.
Bret: He got tired of arguing, huh? (Albert nods "Yes")
(Bret feeds the hungry travelers raw rattlesnake)
Ellen: I don't like it!
Bret: I don't suppose you've ever been in the Army. The first thing we were taught - you're not required to like it, you're just required to eat it. (Norbert chuckles in agreement) I'm so hungry I could eat a horse. Unfortunately, we don't have one of those.
Ellen: Are you truly a professional gambler, Bret?
Bret: Lady Ellen, I'm not a professional anything. I'm too lazy.
Ellen: In England, we don't call our friends Lady this and that.
Bret: Are we friends?
Ellen: We are indeed.
Albert: Before we go, Norbert, I've never said any of this before, but I think the occasion has come for it. (clears throat) It's never seemed really logical to me; a man has to study to be a lieutenant general or a chimney sweep, but … anyone can be a Duke or a Marquis simply by being born in the right bed.
Lord Belcastle: That's hardly an original observation, Albert, but it is profound. Why don't you write a letter to the Times?
Albert: We shall have to hurry.
Norbert: Afraid you can't go, Albert. It's my duty to go, but we can't expose the whole male line of the House of Belcastle.
Albert: I will not be regarded as breeding stock.
Norbert: I been thinking about that chap, Maybrook.
Albert: I'm sure he'd be pleased.
Norbert: Born leader, a bit headstrong - but good stuff there. Mustn't let him get away.
Albert: What would you use him for - superintend the Wyoming property?
Norbert: That's dull thinking, Albert. It's obvious he's drawn to Ellen, it's even more so that Ellen's drawn to him.
Albert: (appalled) You're not thinking …
Norbert: Of course I am - do wonders for the bloodline!
Albert: (sarcastically) Perhaps they'll work it out for themselves.
Ellen: There's a look in father's eye. I suspect he's going to invite you to … come back with us … to England.
Bret: Do you think I should go?
Ellen: England is a wonderful place … for the English.
Bret: Yeah. Now, if you were going someplace where it was more civilized, like say, Denver …
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