The Twilight Zone (1959–1964): Season 1, Episode 26 - Execution - full transcript
In the late 19th century, Joe Caswell is about to be hanged for murder, when he vanishes into thin air. He's been snatched by Prof. Manion's time machine and brought 80 years into the future. Caswell was selected at random and Manion can see the rope marks on his neck. Caswell is eager to see his new world but Manion wants to send him back. When Caswell runs off into the night, his new world proves to be too much for him. Justice is served in the end and a murderer hangs.
Execution
First Aired: 1 April 1960
English Subtitles by
Pandorafilm - Heerlen
There is a fifth dimension.
Beyond that which is known to man.
It is a dimension as vast as space.
And as timeless as infinity.
It is the middle ground
between light and shadow...
between science and superstition.
And it lies between
the pit of man's fears...
and the summit of his knowledge.
This is the dimension
of imagination.
It is an area which we call:
The Twilight Zone.
A commonplace, if somewhat grim.
An event known as a 'Necktie party.'
The guest of dishonor,
a cowboy named Joe Caswell.
A moment away from a rope, a short
dance a few feet off the ground.
And then the dark eternity
of all evil men.
Mr Joe Caswell, who when the good
lord passed out a conscience...
must have been out for a beer
and missed out.
Mr Joe Caswell in the last quiet
moment of a violent life.
Reverend. No need,
I ain't interested in prayers.
And your immortal soul, Caswell?
Are you interested in that?
It's my mortal neck
that concerns me now.
And it's gonna be your pleasure to
see that it's stretched a few feet.
Since that book ain't going to help,
make it short and get it over with.
Judge?
-You have the right to a last word.
That's my right, is it, judge?
The young fellow I put a hole in had
too much mouth, not enough brains.
I'd invite him out again tomorrow
if I had it to do all over again.
You shot my son in the back.
And that's a long country mile
from an invitation to a showdown.
Now, that's all you got to say,
I got this to add.
I'd like you to feel it, Caswell.
The more you kick, the more justice
I figure there is in the world.
Well, I'll do a jig for you, pappy,
just like a puppet.
How about it,
can't we get it over with?
I can tell you this. You're an
evil person. You're a disease.
And when we hang you,
it's a service.
All right, get on with the job.
Oh, my dear God.
-What happened to him?
Try to relax.
You're going to be all right.
I'll explain to you what's happened.
Where am I?
You're a long way from home,
old friend.
Where?
-You're in New York City.
Eighty years from the last
moment of your recollection.
How? How?
By this.
This is a time machine.
What's happened to you involves
principles you wouldn't understand.
For the moment,
I don't know what your past was.
But you've got a most
distinguished future.
You're the first time traveler
in the history of man.
And I'm going to introduce you
to a whole new world.
And you're gonna tell me about
an old one.
At 8:15 the subject appeared
desperately tired.
So I put him to bed.
After two hours I've
discovered the following:
His name is Joseph Caswell.
He tells me he was a trail boss
on a cattle ranch in Montana.
His last moment of recollection
was 14 November 1880.
He says he was riding herd when
suddenly he blacked out.
He awoke to find himself on
the cot of my laboratory.
He felt no sensations and...
only in the last moment he seem to
have any grasp of what has occurred.
There's one disturbing point.
There are the marks of a rope
etched deeply into his neck.
He has no explanation for this.
And I have one other observation.
Hardly scientific.
I don't like his looks. I don't
like the eyes or the expression.
I get a feeling of disquiet, I...
I get a feeling that I've taken
a 19th century primitive...
and placed him in
a 20th century jungle.
And heaven help whoever
gets in his way.
That's fire right out of the air.
I thought you were tired.
-I am.
There's plenty of time to sleep.
And plenty of time for that.
Now I wanna look at
that world out there.
I wanna see if there are things out
there like you described to me.
Carriages without horses and...
-They're out there, Caswell.
Things that you've never seen before.
Things you can't imagine.
But some things don't change.
Ideas, concepts.
Things like right and wrong.
I know all about right and wrong.
A sheriff once tried to beat the
difference into me with a wet rope.
I know all about right and wrong.
And what about justice, Caswell?
What about justice?
Am I supposed to know about justice?
More than most men, probably.
Right and wrong,
they can try to beat into you.
But justice, Caswell. This came
at the end of a rope, didn't it?
That's where you were when
I reached back into time.
You were at the end of a rope,
weren't you, Caswell?
Some feet off the ground. And I got
you just before your neck was broken.
When you're dangling at a rope, the
distance to the ground don't matter.
You killed someone.
-A whole territory full.
I stopped counting after 20.
Well?
I'm going to have to send you back.
-Back?
Back to where you belong.
Back to that very moment, if I can.
And that's supposed to be justice?
I died once already, mister.
I been to hell. Now I'm back.
And those 20 men that you killed?
They died with no discomfort?
Mister, you're just talking words.
Justice, right and wrong.
They sound good in this warm room.
With a nice full stomach.
Just a few feet away
from a soft bed.
They sound nice and
they go down easy.
But you just try 'em on an ice-cold
mesa where another man's bread...
or another man's jacket stands
between you and staying alive.
You get in this machine of yours
and you go back to where I was.
And you talk about law and justice.
They're gonna sound different.
Mister, I know your kind.
Your clean-faced, your
Johnny-come-lately dandies.
You come in your warm trains rolling
over the graves of men like me.
I just hate your kind.
'And I have one other observation.
Hardly scientific.
'I don't like his looks. I don't
like the eyes or the expression.
'I get a feeling that I've taken
a 19th century primitive...
'and placed him in
a 20th century jungle.
'And heaven help whoever
gets in his way.'
'There is overtime.
Please deposit 25 cents.'
'Hello? Hello?'
'There is overtime.
Please deposit 25 cents.'
What'll it be?
Expensive evening for you, pal.
That's gonna cost. Hear me?
There's so much noise.
If you don't pay for it,
I'm gonna have to. If you got any...
Easy, pal, easy.
-Just bring me one of those.
Well?
-Nothing, pal, no argument.
What is that?
Where does the music come from?
That thing?
That's just a plain old jukebox.
You been in stir, buddy?
-It's just that I need some sleep.
And those things that
are running around.
Things?
Those carriages without horses.
And the lights going on and off.
And the noise,
it's like thunder all the time.
Why don't you go home and sack down?
And get a good night's sleep.
Take a couple of bottles with you.
That's what you need is sleep. Here.
Well, don't you know what that is?
It's a window.
-We'll give you a demonstration.
All right, hombre,
you got your chance to draw.
Now, you better make your move.
All right, cowboy, you gotta
pay for this. Police. Police.
Police.
Mister, you...
Man, you...
Help me, please.
I thought the place was empty.
Move away from the desk, cowboy.
-What do you want?
What do I want?
What do you want, Buffalo Bill?
Well, that's what I want.
Whatever is around loose.
Well, it looks like you got here
before me. Saved me a little trouble.
Thanks.
But I'm here now.
I usually go to bed this early.
So with the place being dark,
I figured I'd be all alone.
You checked the desk, did you?
I guess he don't keep
much cash around here.
I figured maybe a key
to a drawer or something.
See? I expect he's got a wall safe
or something around here, don't you?
I asked you a question. Don't you
figure he's got a wall safe here?
Hey. Help.
Help, somebody. Help me get out.
Cut him down, hurry up.
That ain't Joe Caswell.
That ain't the guy we hanged.
Look at his clothes.
What kind of clothes are they?
Who is it?
-This is not Caswell, reverend.
It's a stranger.
What kind of devil's work is this?
-I don't know.
I don't know if it is devil's work.
Did we hang an innocent man, then?
I hope not.
I pray to God not.
This is November 1880.
The aftermath of a necktie party.
The victim's name, Paul Johnson.
Small time crook and murderer.
No comment on his death save this.
Justice can span years. Retribution
is not subject to a calendar.
Tonight's case in point in
the Twilight Zone.
English Subtitles by
B. Cornelis - Pandorafilm - Heerlen
First Aired: 1 April 1960
English Subtitles by
Pandorafilm - Heerlen
There is a fifth dimension.
Beyond that which is known to man.
It is a dimension as vast as space.
And as timeless as infinity.
It is the middle ground
between light and shadow...
between science and superstition.
And it lies between
the pit of man's fears...
and the summit of his knowledge.
This is the dimension
of imagination.
It is an area which we call:
The Twilight Zone.
A commonplace, if somewhat grim.
An event known as a 'Necktie party.'
The guest of dishonor,
a cowboy named Joe Caswell.
A moment away from a rope, a short
dance a few feet off the ground.
And then the dark eternity
of all evil men.
Mr Joe Caswell, who when the good
lord passed out a conscience...
must have been out for a beer
and missed out.
Mr Joe Caswell in the last quiet
moment of a violent life.
Reverend. No need,
I ain't interested in prayers.
And your immortal soul, Caswell?
Are you interested in that?
It's my mortal neck
that concerns me now.
And it's gonna be your pleasure to
see that it's stretched a few feet.
Since that book ain't going to help,
make it short and get it over with.
Judge?
-You have the right to a last word.
That's my right, is it, judge?
The young fellow I put a hole in had
too much mouth, not enough brains.
I'd invite him out again tomorrow
if I had it to do all over again.
You shot my son in the back.
And that's a long country mile
from an invitation to a showdown.
Now, that's all you got to say,
I got this to add.
I'd like you to feel it, Caswell.
The more you kick, the more justice
I figure there is in the world.
Well, I'll do a jig for you, pappy,
just like a puppet.
How about it,
can't we get it over with?
I can tell you this. You're an
evil person. You're a disease.
And when we hang you,
it's a service.
All right, get on with the job.
Oh, my dear God.
-What happened to him?
Try to relax.
You're going to be all right.
I'll explain to you what's happened.
Where am I?
You're a long way from home,
old friend.
Where?
-You're in New York City.
Eighty years from the last
moment of your recollection.
How? How?
By this.
This is a time machine.
What's happened to you involves
principles you wouldn't understand.
For the moment,
I don't know what your past was.
But you've got a most
distinguished future.
You're the first time traveler
in the history of man.
And I'm going to introduce you
to a whole new world.
And you're gonna tell me about
an old one.
At 8:15 the subject appeared
desperately tired.
So I put him to bed.
After two hours I've
discovered the following:
His name is Joseph Caswell.
He tells me he was a trail boss
on a cattle ranch in Montana.
His last moment of recollection
was 14 November 1880.
He says he was riding herd when
suddenly he blacked out.
He awoke to find himself on
the cot of my laboratory.
He felt no sensations and...
only in the last moment he seem to
have any grasp of what has occurred.
There's one disturbing point.
There are the marks of a rope
etched deeply into his neck.
He has no explanation for this.
And I have one other observation.
Hardly scientific.
I don't like his looks. I don't
like the eyes or the expression.
I get a feeling of disquiet, I...
I get a feeling that I've taken
a 19th century primitive...
and placed him in
a 20th century jungle.
And heaven help whoever
gets in his way.
That's fire right out of the air.
I thought you were tired.
-I am.
There's plenty of time to sleep.
And plenty of time for that.
Now I wanna look at
that world out there.
I wanna see if there are things out
there like you described to me.
Carriages without horses and...
-They're out there, Caswell.
Things that you've never seen before.
Things you can't imagine.
But some things don't change.
Ideas, concepts.
Things like right and wrong.
I know all about right and wrong.
A sheriff once tried to beat the
difference into me with a wet rope.
I know all about right and wrong.
And what about justice, Caswell?
What about justice?
Am I supposed to know about justice?
More than most men, probably.
Right and wrong,
they can try to beat into you.
But justice, Caswell. This came
at the end of a rope, didn't it?
That's where you were when
I reached back into time.
You were at the end of a rope,
weren't you, Caswell?
Some feet off the ground. And I got
you just before your neck was broken.
When you're dangling at a rope, the
distance to the ground don't matter.
You killed someone.
-A whole territory full.
I stopped counting after 20.
Well?
I'm going to have to send you back.
-Back?
Back to where you belong.
Back to that very moment, if I can.
And that's supposed to be justice?
I died once already, mister.
I been to hell. Now I'm back.
And those 20 men that you killed?
They died with no discomfort?
Mister, you're just talking words.
Justice, right and wrong.
They sound good in this warm room.
With a nice full stomach.
Just a few feet away
from a soft bed.
They sound nice and
they go down easy.
But you just try 'em on an ice-cold
mesa where another man's bread...
or another man's jacket stands
between you and staying alive.
You get in this machine of yours
and you go back to where I was.
And you talk about law and justice.
They're gonna sound different.
Mister, I know your kind.
Your clean-faced, your
Johnny-come-lately dandies.
You come in your warm trains rolling
over the graves of men like me.
I just hate your kind.
'And I have one other observation.
Hardly scientific.
'I don't like his looks. I don't
like the eyes or the expression.
'I get a feeling that I've taken
a 19th century primitive...
'and placed him in
a 20th century jungle.
'And heaven help whoever
gets in his way.'
'There is overtime.
Please deposit 25 cents.'
'Hello? Hello?'
'There is overtime.
Please deposit 25 cents.'
What'll it be?
Expensive evening for you, pal.
That's gonna cost. Hear me?
There's so much noise.
If you don't pay for it,
I'm gonna have to. If you got any...
Easy, pal, easy.
-Just bring me one of those.
Well?
-Nothing, pal, no argument.
What is that?
Where does the music come from?
That thing?
That's just a plain old jukebox.
You been in stir, buddy?
-It's just that I need some sleep.
And those things that
are running around.
Things?
Those carriages without horses.
And the lights going on and off.
And the noise,
it's like thunder all the time.
Why don't you go home and sack down?
And get a good night's sleep.
Take a couple of bottles with you.
That's what you need is sleep. Here.
Well, don't you know what that is?
It's a window.
-We'll give you a demonstration.
All right, hombre,
you got your chance to draw.
Now, you better make your move.
All right, cowboy, you gotta
pay for this. Police. Police.
Police.
Mister, you...
Man, you...
Help me, please.
I thought the place was empty.
Move away from the desk, cowboy.
-What do you want?
What do I want?
What do you want, Buffalo Bill?
Well, that's what I want.
Whatever is around loose.
Well, it looks like you got here
before me. Saved me a little trouble.
Thanks.
But I'm here now.
I usually go to bed this early.
So with the place being dark,
I figured I'd be all alone.
You checked the desk, did you?
I guess he don't keep
much cash around here.
I figured maybe a key
to a drawer or something.
See? I expect he's got a wall safe
or something around here, don't you?
I asked you a question. Don't you
figure he's got a wall safe here?
Hey. Help.
Help, somebody. Help me get out.
Cut him down, hurry up.
That ain't Joe Caswell.
That ain't the guy we hanged.
Look at his clothes.
What kind of clothes are they?
Who is it?
-This is not Caswell, reverend.
It's a stranger.
What kind of devil's work is this?
-I don't know.
I don't know if it is devil's work.
Did we hang an innocent man, then?
I hope not.
I pray to God not.
This is November 1880.
The aftermath of a necktie party.
The victim's name, Paul Johnson.
Small time crook and murderer.
No comment on his death save this.
Justice can span years. Retribution
is not subject to a calendar.
Tonight's case in point in
the Twilight Zone.
English Subtitles by
B. Cornelis - Pandorafilm - Heerlen