Paladin: Mister, don't play with me. I left my sense of humor back in San Francisco. Now where's Doggett!
Dallas Burchfield: Old sport, let me tell you something about Cayatana here. With that same right hand and a much duller instrument I can assure you she very neatly decapitated her father. Sooner than see one hair on my head disturbed, she would gladly lay down her miserable life. If I'm to court extinction with the Judas kiss, I think it's only equitable that I should, um...
Paladin: How much?
Dallas Burchfield: In the uptown express offices, holding in my name a case of vintage Amontillado, which thus far I've been unable to ransom. I, uh, oh, I think two hundred dollars would just about cover it.You observe the saloon across the street? Upstairs, turn to your right, last door on your left. I shouldn't knock if I were you.
Dallas Burchfield: Relax, old sport. Doggett is still below the deadline. And while he remains below the deadline, you are out of luck.
Paladin: Deadline? You trying to tell me he's still here?
Dallas Burchfield: Yes, here. Here where the line between respectability and sin is tangibly drawn. So that there's no risk of one contaminating the other. In fact, in most communities, it's invisible.
Teague: I thought we got all the fun out of you we could, but it looks like I'm wrong.
Paladin: Who are you?
Teague: Teague. You call me Mister.
Paladin: Well, you know why I'm here, I came for Rusty Doggett.
Teague: Oh, he's an outlaw. Entitled to asylum, just like me. There are only two sides to the deadline.
Paladin: If I can prove to you there's a third side, men who have forfeited their membership in the human race altogether.
Dallas Burchfield: Mr. Paladin has an orator's gift of persuasive eloquence. I wonder... I wonder, Mr. Teague, if, uh, he would be willing to wager his life on it?
Paladin: Isn't that exactly what I'm doing?
Dallas Burchfield: Not really. I'm sure that this audacious display of courage is prompted at least partially by your inner conviction that Mr. Teague here, whatever his reputation, would never shoot an unarmed man. Just isn't good form, you know?
Teague: Keep talking, Burchfield. What's your point?
Dallas Burchfield: Well. Suppose you offer Mr. Paladin a choice, Teague. He can leave here now, unmolested, or he can stay, and plead his case before a jury of your selection. Knowing that if he loses, he'll be dangling from a gallows this time tomorrow.
Teague: Burchfield. Why, Burchfield!
Paladin: Your Honor, for the record, I am not asking one dime for my fee.
Dallas Burchfield: Indeed? You'd have us believe that this is an act of selfless altruism?
Paladin Altruism, no! Vengeance!
Dallas Burchfield: Vengeance! Hah! The battle cry of the lynch mob! Judge and executioner, neatly tied up in one self-righteous little package!
Paladin: I am risking my life for vengeance, Burchfield. What are you risking?
Paladin: There isn't one person in this room who cares what happens to Doggett! No, you're all too much concerned with striking back at that society that you hold responsible for condemning you to this stinking garbage heap.
Dallas Burchfield: I am here by preference.
Paladin: You are here because you belong here. The only difference between you and your client is that you have murdered no one but yourself. A piddling misdemeanor, when one considers the pitiful, pathetic insignificance of the victim. (Burchfield prepares to attack Paladin) Vengeance, old sport? Well, go ahead. Go ahead. It's on the house. (Burchfield sits back down) Oh, what a nuisance is the conscience. That demonic instrument of torture forged out of the human soul.
Rusty Doggett: Words, words, words! Where is the evidence? Where's the proof?
Teague: He's right, Paladin. You didn't bring any proof. Only second-hand accusations.
Paladin: Proof? Proof! Use your eyes. The truth is written in his face!
Teague; You can't hang a man for being ugly.
Teague: Well, I see no reason for the jury to go out and return with a verdict. Unless Counsel for Defense has something to say.
Burchfield: Yes. Yes, I do want to say something. Earlier, Mr. Paladin accused me of murdering myself. I see now that that's true. I have a proposal to make. During the war, it was, uh, permissible for one man to serve another's military hitch. And while I am ill-fitted for the, uh, rigors of mortal combat, I feel now that perhaps I am equal to the, uh, supreme sacrifice, as they say. So, your Honor, since the citizens of this fine community are bent on having a hanging, I would like to offer myself in Mr. Paladin's stead.
Doggett: Why, you mealy-mouthed tinhorn, what are you trying to pull?
Dallas Burchfield: I'm booking my passage out of Hell, Mr. Doggett. It's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here. Not with filth like you.