Judge Roy Bean (speech)

My palms are sweaty, and my breath is short and rapid as I walk into the theater. I seldom get nervous. Through sentencing people to be hung for stealing a horse to killing a police officer, my heart has never gotten to beating at this rate. I, Judge Roy Bean, simply do not get nervous.

And yet, here I am, in a theater, sweaty and terrifically nervous as I take my second row seat. This seat, let me tell you, cost me a bundle, but I've got enough to spare from my thriving liquor business. But, that's off the topic right now. The lights dim and brighten three times, and it is quiet around me. I am dressed in my best suit and top hat, which despite what people say, I find rather nice looking. And now, the theater is dark and a spot light hits the stage. I hold my breath, and low and behold, there she is. Lily Langtry, the only woman I will ever love and admire so much in my life.

Of course, this is not to say that I have never loved anybody. I had loved a woman named Virginia, but that's way in the past. She left me after we had gotten married for a couple of years. The only good thing that ever came out of her were my four children, who she took along too. And I had loved my brother Josh. I had cared for him more than I had ever cared for anybody in my life. And now he is dead.

I can remember, clearly, finding out that he was dead. Time was still for that minute, and my whole world spun around and around. My breath had come to a deadly still, and it felt as if my heart did too. Everything around me seemed to stop and part of me seemed to have died. Tears moistened my eyes for the first and last time that I can remember ever in my life. My fists clenched and I wanted to kill somebody. Not just anybody, but that sun-of-a-gun Joaquin Murietta. He had murdered my brother because they were fighting over a woman.

I had never cared about anybody in my life except my brothers, Sam and Josh. And now one of them was dead. I made a pact to myself to keep Josh's saloon running properly, and I did. Well, until a killed a Mexican officer after we quarreled over a woman. Funny though, now, I can't even remember who that woman was. Either way, after I killed the man, I left California where we were at, leaving behind the memory of Josh, and headed south to New Mexico.

But now, here I am, years later feeling the same feeling in a different way. There was a new, strange feeling in my stomach as it churned, and I sit here, nervous, wondering if maybe, just maybe, I can go backstage and meet this goddess of an actress. I just hope, just hope that maybe, just maybe, she will come to visit me in my courthouse/saloon in the town named after her. I wonder if she's even heard about me. About my wonderful reputation. I really am a good judge, and there are so many great times to tell about.

I can remember one time, when a dead man was carried in, and I fined him forty dollars for carrying a concealed weapon. Which, not coincidentally, was exactly how much was left in his clothing. Strangely enough, that verdict almost backfired on me when a friend of mine was brought in on the same charge, but I managed to get out of the tight spot. I can remember ruling that if a man was standing still when arrested, he was carrying a weapon. On the other hand, if he was walking or riding, he was traveling, and travelers can carry guns. My friend, not coincidentally, had been walking away from the officer, so therefore, he was not carrying a concealed weapon.

There are many more occasions where I lived up to my reputation as Law West of the Pecos, and Justice of the Peace. Of course, I always live up to the reputation that a sign on my courtroom announces; "ice beer". My courtroom is not only a place of law, it is also a saloon. More often than not, I interrupt court to serve some nice cool bear.

Anyway, that's all besides the point. It is now the end of Lily's show, and I wonder if I should go back stage to meet her. My palms grow sweaty again, and my heart begins to pound heavily in my chest. I ponder the question over and over in my mind. Should I go? Should I go? Without knowing, the seconds turn into minutes, and looking around me, the theater is empty. I gather up my things, and walk out of the theater, returning to my place as Justice of the Peace.