All language subtitles for Rome_S01E02_480p_HDTV_SITEMOVIE

Three more gone
this morning.

Outcasts and idiots.

They all get restless.
With the fighting done,

they want to be home with
money in their pockets,

not sitting
in this dismal cold and wet.

None of the good men
have run.

Nor will they.

Nor will they
follow you to Rome.

Not yet.

Time is running out.

We cannot wait
here forever.

This is a very
precarious position.

What happens in January
when your term runs out

and we're
still sitting here?

The business of motivating men to fight
is a tricky matter, Posca.

I would not expect a slave
to understand the subtleties.

I trust an education in these subtleties will
begin shortly.

500,000?
What's this?

I put Mark Antony up for election
as People's Tribune.

There were a lot of votes
needed buying.

Mark Antony
for People's Tribune?

But he is...

- um...
- You may speak.

I had understood the Tribune
to be a sacred office

with the power of veto
over the Senate.

So it is.

An office of great dignity
and seriousness.

Perhaps you're right.

We shall send Strabo along
to make sure Antony behaves himself.

How far now?

Three hours at pace.

Ah-hi!
Here I come, girls.

I'm going to drink all the wine,
smoke all the smoke

- and fuck every whore in the city.
- Show some dignity.

- You're under the standard.
- Well, talk to him.

He's not
under the standard.

Three hours away from a wife
he hasn't seen in eight years.

- The man's terrified.
- Surely a reunion is a happy event.

- Talk of something else.
- Terrified.

What if she's lost her teeth?
What if she's gotten skinny?

What if she's been letting
other men between her legs?

Silence!

- They love him, eh?
- No matter.

We are all men
of substance.

Let them have the love of the plebs
and the proles.

This won't take long,
will it?

We can hope, Dominus.

- Vorenus, you may dismiss the men.
- Sir.

And then you may dismiss yourself
until I send for you.

Have some fun.

But first, take the boy
back to Atia.

Get your reward, eh?

Boy, tell your lovely mother
I will see her later.

Let's get this over with.

Shh!

You, leave this house
this moment.

I will not.
Octavia is my rightful wife.

- You defy Caesar?
- A fig for Caesar!

By the five furies,
if I were not a genteel woman,

I would have you flayed
and hung from a bracket at the door!

- Castor?
- Domina?

Fetch the dogs!

Insolent wretch!

I tell you, my honey,
you are well rid of that one.

I hate you.

I hate you!
I hate you!

Silly girl.

I'm only trying to do my best for her.
Why can't she see that?

She is young.

- Master Octavian!
- Baby boy!

My poor rabbit!

Oh!

So thin.
Was it very horrible?

Of course it was,
I can't even imagine.

We shan't even
talk about it.

We should just put it
totally out of our minds.

You're back
safe at home now.

But who are those?

You are to be very good
to them, Mother.

They are particular
friends of mine.

Friends?
In what particular?

These are the men
that took me from captivity.

First Spear Centurion
Lucius Vorenus.

And Legionary Titus Pullo.

So, we embrace you.

Good fearsome
specimens you are.

I wonder it took you so long
to subdue those odious Gauls.

There was a great many
of them, ma'am.

Great many... very good.

We'll be away then, sir.

Oh, but you must be
rewarded before you go.

- Castor, bring me my purse.
- That won't be necessary.

Will it not?
I don't want to break any regulations...

They shall stay
and eat, Mother.

Of course! There shall be bread
and meat put out in the kitchen.

I mean,
they shall eat with us.

Obliged, sir,
but I must go to my wife.

Your wife has waited eight years.
She can wait a little longer.

Caesar has given them
honorary horses,

and they ride
with the standard.

It's perfectly acceptable
to eat with them.

Splendid idea.

It's symbolic. We shall
all dine together as equals.

- What's that?
- Oh, it's just your sister.

- Is she all right?
- Women's troubles.

Nothing a good leeching
won't cure.

Jupiter Fulgor, we ask you to guide
and protect this man,

Marcus Antonius,
newly elected Tribune of plebs,

champion of the people.

How many dead
altogether?

I don't know.
I lost count ages ago.

Lots though.

And you, Lucius?

309 fighting men.
I don't keep count on civilians.

- You're very exact.
- The war temple requires

an exact number
when you make an offering.

That's a lot
of wine and goats.

The priests offer
a discount when you pass 100.

Priests!
Crooks, many of them.

I just talk direct to whatever God
I'm doing business with.

Bugger the priests!

Too few people can be
bothered to do things

the proper,
all-Roman way.

- I commend you, Lucius.
- Vorenus is a strict Catonian.

I believe in the divinity
of the Republic.

If Cato believes the same,
then I suppose I am a Catonian.

But Cato represents
the rights of the nobility.

Surely a plebian like yourself
would like to see some changes made.

It should remain as it was
at the founding of the Republic.

Why should that change?

Because the Roman people
are suffering.

Because slaves
have taken all the work.

Because nobles
have taken all the land,

and the streets are full of the homeless
and the starving.

Well, I had no idea my son
was such a firebrand.

The nobles say
that Caesar is a war criminal.

They say that he wishes to march on Rome
and make himself king.

That is sacrilege.
No man of honor would follow him.

Well, I'm no man of honor then, 'cause
I say that Caesar should ride in here

with elephants and squash Pompey
and Cato and anybody else that wants it.

Never mind the law.
That's what I say.

You say that because
you govern your reason

no better
than you govern your tongue.

Forgive me, it's my fault
for mixing politics and wine.

More tench?
A dormouse perhaps?

Thank you, I won't.

Don't mind my saying it,

but you two make
unlikely friends.

We are not friends.
I am his superior officer.

By virtue of rank,
if nothing else.

That is enough
from you!

Please forgive
our vulgar ways, madam.

We are not fit
for your presence.

Not at all. I've enjoyed
your company immensely.

It's been most refreshing.

And with your permission,
we shall...

leave you.

Do come
and visit us again.

Octavian needs
reliable friends.

He may depend on you,
I trust.

As you say, madam.

- Say again?
- I did not speak.

I go this way.

My home is behind the street
of the cloth dyers, if you...

Go with fortune, sir.

The cleaner brothels
are in the Suburra,

next to
the Venereal Temple.

Niobe.

You're alive.

What child is that?

Answer me.

What child is that?

He's your grandson.

Speak sense, whore.

Wait, now.

Your grandson...
the son of your daughter.

- My daughter is only...
- She's 13, near 14.

- A son by who?
- Crito, a Drover's boy.

His name is Lucius.

Niobe, stop.

I order you to stop!

Your father's home.

Girls,
this is your father.

Daughters, I'm very pleased
to find you healthy and good looking.

A benefice you favor
your mother, eh?

Now you see how ugly
your father is.

Come here.

She's not simple,
is she?

Greet your father properly
as you've been taught to do.

Your pay stopped coming
a year ago.

The paymaster said
you must be dead.

They said they don't
make mistakes.

Damned fools!
I'll have it seen to.

A bit of a surprise
to see me then?

A bit surprised
to be called "whore."

That was... wrong.

I am sorry for it.

- A whore in front of everybody.
- I said sorry.

- Is it as you like it?
- Less salt next time.

So, how did you manage
for money?

My sister Lyde
and her husband helped us out.

Well, you won't need
their help anymore.

The big phallus is off
a Suevi I killed in the Rhinelands...

a very strong
and fierce people.

Nice.

My official spoils
I've put into slaves.

They're at the market.

I should clear
10,000 denarii.

That's good news.

Come with me, sir.

By grace of Roma,
for twelve moons hence,

thou art Tribune
of Plebs.

About time.

- I need a drink.
- Indeed, sir.

Perhaps after the meeting.

Cicero.

My dear Atia,
a pleasure.

Forgive us for imposing
at such a ludicrous hour.

Not at all, I adore it. The secrecy,
the intrigue... it's most thrilling.

Comprehend, woman,
this meeting is invisible.

Be assured, Cato,
I do not see you.

General Antony, we are...

Oh God,
your beauty is painful.

You are the crucifix
of Venus.

Let me die in your arms.

'Sist, Antony.

- Good evening to you all.
- General Antony.

Tribune Antony,
if you please.

You're inside the sacred
precincts of Rome,

but yet you wear
the bloody red cloak of a soldier.

Che brutta figura!

It completely fell
from my mind.

I'm most extremely sorry.
Will you forgive me, friend Cato?

Atia, please, will you
take this and burn it?

- That's not necessary.
- Is it not? Oh, bene.

Then let's stop all this blathering
and get down to business.

Blathering you say?

What a congerie of heroes.
Such vim!

I feel
like Helen of Troy.

Would you adjourn
to the courtyard?

Speak, young Marcus.
What have you to tell us?

I have been delegated by Caesar
to negotiate a compromise.

Caesar wishes
to avoid bloodshed.

He wishes to be seen
as a man of reason and probity.

Therefore, when his present term
as governor of Gaul has ended,

he is willing to accept command
of a single legion province.

Illyria, by preference.

- I don't understand.
- Command of a province...

so he will have
legal immunity.

So that none of you rascals
can go dragging him through the courts.

We're here
to discuss the terms

of Caesar's resignation.

He could have
avoided prosecution

by accepting
a few years banishment.

Banishment for what?

For fomenting a tyranny.

Illegal warfare,
theft,

murder, treason!

And what shall be
your punishment, Pompey,

for betraying a friend,

for deserting the cause
of your people,

for allying yourself
with these so-called noblemen.

- What punishment for you?
- Impudent whelp!

The man's term of office
ends in two weeks.

- We say six months.
- Two weeks!

He sits alone in Ravenna

with one mutinous skeleton
of a legion

and he dares
to dictate terms to me?!

Caesar has many more legions
than the 13th.

On the far side
of the Alps.

Winter does not
last forever.

Spring comes,
snows melt.

- That's a threat!
- I assure you, it is no threat.

Snows always melt.

If he does not
get a province?

Caesar will take
all measures required

to protect
both his interests

and those
of the Republic.

I am grieved
and surprised.

I had hoped we would have
a rational negotiation.

If that is his last word,
we shall go.

Then we have
no more business.

Caesar is bluffing.

He wishes to appear
supremely confident.

Evidently he is desperately weak,
weaker than we'd thought.

This is a last ditch attempt
to frighten us into making concessions,

while he still has
the semblance of an army.

He's weak, Cicero.
Dying.

Is that not when all the proverbs
tell us to be wary?

Does not the dying serpent
bite deepest?

Let's play.

- Where are you from, friend?
- 13th.

Better keep that quiet.

This is deep
Pompeian territory.

So, we're all Romans, eh?

Come on, ladies,
hear me now.

Furies and River Gods
for five.

"You will be pleased
to hear

that General Antony was
as blithely arrogant

and provocative
as one could hope for.

And Pompey and Cato
were deeply offended

by your negotiating
position."

Wise Men and Graces
on four!

Those Graces don't like you,
I think.

- They piss on your face.
- They piss on my face?

- They piss on my face?!
- Calm, brother.

Man has an ill way
with him.

He's lost a lot of money.
He means no offense...

- do you?
- None at all.

Twin River Gods over two.

Come on,
you mumping cunnies!

Graces...

over four.

How do you feel now, soldier?
Feel good?

- Who is this man?
- Run and get a doctor!

I don't want
people dying in my house!

Do as I say, woman!

Oh!

There will be copious pus...
first putrid, then wholesome...

and mayhap
fits of the spleen,

but that will be
all to the good.

A purging of the malignancy
will follow.

This is brass.

Come.

When will he wake up?

Today, tomorrow,
maybe never.

You might try
an offering to Spes.

A white rabbit
often works.

I'll send my boy tomorrow
to check the dressings.

- What misery!
- It's only blood.

It'll wash.

Where are you going?

I have business.

Business?
What business?

I understand that you are upset,
but I will ask you

do not question me
in that tone.

Tone.

My father's cock!

How's that for tone?!

50, 50.
55.

55, 55.
60.

60, 60... sold!

40.
40, 40, 45.

45, 45, 45.
50.

50.
50, 50. 55.

This is bona stock,
but it's all skin and bone, eh?

You want a good price.

Let us feed them up,
put some fat on them.

Couple weeks of easy living, and these
puppies will sell like duck hearts.

Is that expensive,
fodder and storage?

No! You'll recoup feed
and storage double.

Beautiful, neh?
A real showman.

I am no judge
of the sand,

but sure,
anyone can see

he is rare large
and aggressive.

When the Senate
meets tomorrow,

Scipio will propose
an ultimatum be put to Caesar.

I ask you as a friend
to support the proposal

and to enjoin your many friends
to do the same.

Oh, I have not
so many friends as all that.

Ah, the moderates
follow you like sheep.

- Your vote is critical.
- The ultimatum is?

Caesar's term
of office is over.

He must immediately
disband his men,

resign his command,
and return for trial...

else be considered an Enemy
of the Senate and People of Rome.

But he cannot accept that.

Not without dishonor.

Once declared hostile, he has nothing
to lose... he will fight at any cost.

You are declaring war!

Caesar will not have to
accept or refuse the terms,

because Mark Antony
will immediately use Tribune's Veto.

But then,
what is your purpose?

If the Senate votes
against him,

Caesar will
finally understand

that he is alone
against all.

Of course, anything but
an overwhelming vote

encourages Caesar to think
he still has friends and hope.

I am no friend to Caesar,
nor any tyrant,

but I cannot vote
for a proposal

I do not wish to see realized.
It would be highly irreligious.

I have made
a vow to Jupiter.

Unless I get the full backing
of the Senate tomorrow,

I and all my legions
will sail for Spain

and leave you gentlemen
to your own defenses.

This is he?
Crito?

He's a good boy
from good family.

Good enough to seed
a child of the Vorenii

who fought
at Magnesia and Zama?

- I don't rightly know, sir.
- You don't rightly know?!

Do you know that
this girl is my property?

That you should have
asked my permission

before you coupled
with her?

- I'm sorry, sir.
- I am within my rights

to kill you
here and now.

- Papa, please.
- Don't you start sniffling.

You should have thought of this
before you spread your legs.

They meant you
no disrespect.

What they did
was only natural.

They're young
and they love each other.

That's no excuse.

His mother's family are well-found
in Ostia for many generations,

and his father is
a successful drover.

They have a house
in the southern crossroads.

A house built from
cattle dung no doubt.

It's very hygienic, sir.
There's no smell.

Huh!

There's money
in droving, at least.

Good money, sir.

I'm on the Capua run mostly...

that's 5,000 head
a week sometimes, sir.

He cannot be but what he is.
When are you a man?

- Next month, sir.
- Next month.

Very well,
you may marry my daughter.

Assure your good people that
the dowry will be appropriate.

He really is
a good boy.

You should be pleased.

My daughter's virginity
has been taken

and my first grandson spawned,
by an ill-favored prole.

How can I be pleased?

- He makes her happy.
- She's an idiot then.

What a brute you are!

The Senate will hear
Metullus Scipio.

Speak! Speak!

Conscript fathers,
I propose a formal motion.

Unless Gaius Julius Caesar

immediately lays down
his command,

disbands his legions
and returns to Rome for trial,

this sacred assembly
will declare him a public enemy

of the Senate
and People of Rome!

After which time
it will be the duty

and the obligation of every Roman
to do him harm

or to kill him
if they are able!

A motion is proposed.

Those in favor,
make it known.

The motion is carried
by clear numbers.

Antony!

Veto the motion!

Stand up!
Veto the motion!

I demand the floor!
I demand the floor!

- Give him the floor!
- I veto the motion!

Tribune vetoes
the motion!

Scipio's motion
against Caesar...

it doesn't stand,
does it?

Stands.

Entered in the annals.

Despite that Tribune
raised his veto?

Not heard,
not fully admitted.

No weight.

The motion stands.

Let me be clear
with you.

I do not wish

that a motion
as important as this

should stand
on a mere trick of procedure.

Trick, you say?

This is
a religious matter.

There are no tricks
in religion.

Session was not
formally ended, correct?

- Correct.
- So, when we reconvene,

it will formally
be the same session.

Mm-hmm.

Then Tribune Antony
may use veto on the motion.

Um...

That is so.

Juno Inferna!
Senile old fool,

why didn't you say so
to begin with?

Mark Antony must not be harmed
or hindered in any way.

- But...
- In any way!

It is vitally important
that he be allowed

to veto the motion.

If he does not,
Caesar is declared a traitor.

Then he has no choice
but to oppose me openly,

which means civil war.
Antony must not be harmed!

Dominus, good news.

The Senate
will reconvene tomorrow.

Formally,
it is the same session,

so you may yet exercise
your veto on the motion.

Hmm. Unless Pompey
tries to stop me.

True, he may
very well try.

Rally the men together.

Vorenus...

all of them.

# Run and hide #

# Run and hide #

# The 13th are coming #

# And your men
are all dead! #

I put extra nutmeg in,
as you like it.

Oh, marry me, goddess.

What, a porcine object
like you?

Besides, I am already wed,
thanks be to evil spirits.

You are wrong, friend-wife.
He is a good man, your man.

A good man you say?

For years and years,
I'd lie awake at night

and beg all the Gods
to send him home.

I'd hear of this battle
or that battle and...

I'd see him,
clear as a glass,

lying dead and bloody
in the mud somewhere.

I was Ionely.

I was so Ionely.

For eight years I wept.

Every day, the girls asking,
"When is Papa coming home?

Is it today? When?"

And now he's home,
and I wish he was in Gaul.

He's a cold, mean brute.

Not one loving word
to me or his daughters,

not once since
he has been home.

He is no skilled hand
with the women.

But in all these years I fought
with him, he never took a woman.

"Pullo," he'd say to me,
"Pullo, my old friend,

I have a wife back home,
Niobe is her name

and she's worth more to me
than all the women of Gaul."

I thank you for your kind words,
but I know you lie.

Shh, shh.

He's no friend of yours.
He told me so.

Why, he has a...
an ill temper, him.

He'd say anything.

Antony needs every man.

If you can walk, we rendezvous
at the house of Atia.

This is all I have left.

There will be more
when I sell the slaves.

Get the girls indoors and stay indoors until
you know it's safe.

It saddens me
that you are unhappy,

because I have
a deep affection for you.

When I return,
we will talk.

Well, this is
a merry do.

Octavia, my honey,
look alive at least.

Poor Antony must think himself dead
and swimming in Lethe water.

Talk to the poor man,
ask him questions.

One would think she'd been
raised by Germans.

General Antony,
does my mother's screaming irritate you?

Excuse me?

When you and my mother
are in coitus,

there is
a deal of screaming.

I find it
extremely irritating.

I wondered
whether you did also.

Or perhaps you like it?

A testament
to your skills.

So spiteful,
and for what?

You shame only yourself.

She has you exact.

We show our strength.

We show them
who owns the Forum,

but we do not touch them.

Antony must not
be touched!

- Kill them all, I say.
- None of that!

Pompey's strict orders.

Him who starts trouble
will be on a cross at nightfall.

So no blood!

Make a lane there!
Make a lane there, I said!

Come on, you bastards!

Rally to me.

Rally to me.

Rally to me!

No blood!

You have
what you wanted, Cato.

Caesar has
no choice now.

Come the spring,
he will cross the Alps

with his legions
and march on Rome.

Five dead:
Three from flux, two from fighting.

10 under medics.
Eight absent, believed fled.

- Sir.
- Fighting strength: 236 head.

Seventh Cohort.
12 dead:

Six of flux,
six of fighting.

Three on the medics.

Three absent,
believed fled.

Fighting strength: 242.

Soldier, how far behind you
is Mark Antony?

No more than an hour, sir.

- Sound assembly!
- Sir!

By order of the Senate,

Gaius Julius Caesar

is declared
an enemy of Rome.

All good citizens
are bound

to do him harm
if they are able.

I've got him.

After all these years,
Pompey surprises me.

I had hoped to provoke
some kind of aggression, sure,

but to try
and kill a Tribune?

In the Forum?

The man's found some hard
black iron in his soul.

I'm sure it was yon demented little worm
Cato who put him up to it.

It's excellent, this.

So, what next?

Let's see what the men
have to say.

Oh, don't do that!

You look just right
as you are.

Like Leonidas
at Thermopylae.

Attention!

Any of your people
I can mention?

Titus Pullo.

Took the head off
the first man that came at me.

Soldiers,
Pompey and the Senate

have formally declared

that Gaius Julius Caesar

is an enemy of Rome.

No!

They have declared that
I am a criminal.

They have declared,
in effect,

that all of you
also are criminals!

No!

The Tribune's veto
was not exercised.

Peoples Tribune
Mark Antony

and 50 men of the 13th

were assaulted by 1,000 head
of Pompeian scum.

No!

A Tribune of the plebs

assaulted on the steps

of the Senate House!

Can you imagine
a more terrible sacrilege?

Our beloved Republic is
in the hands of madmen.

This is a dark day,

and I stand at a fork
in the road.

I can abide the law
and surrender my arms to the Senate

and watch
the Republic fall

to tyranny and chaos!

Or, I can go home

with my sword
in my hand

and run those maniacs

to the Tarpeian Rock!

Yeah! Yeah!

Legionary Titus Pullo,
step forward!

Titus Pullo!

When 50 brave men
of the 13th

fought Pompey's 1,000
in the Forum

and saved the Tribune,

it was Legionary Titus Pullo
who drew first blood!

Here is 500 denarii!

Very grateful, sir.

Are you with me,
Titus Pullo?

- Will you come with me to Rome?
- Yes.

Yes, sir!
Certainly!

Titus Pullo
is with me!

And you?
Are you with me?!

Yeah! Yeah!

Ah, you're awake.

Water?

We're moving.

Mmm.

The whole legion, sounds like.
Where to?

It's a river.

What river?

- This is the Rubicon.
- Stay calm.

This is rebellion
and treason,

and I am no traitor!

It's too late now.
We're across. We're in Italy.

You're a rebel whether
you like it or not.

Caesar. Caesar,
what have you done?

He had no choice,
had he?

Pompey did try to kill
Mark Antony after all.

You of all men should not dare
make that argument.

- How's that?
- You know who was being attacked.

I don't know
what you mean.

It doesn't matter now.

We are all
dead men any way.

We'll be hanging from crosses
in the Appian Way before the week's out.

We'll be all right.

- Have some more water.
- Better to die of thirst.

Don't be foolish.
Drink.

Caesar is in Italy!

Caesar is in Italy!

- Have you heard?
- I heard.

What's going to happen?

War is going to happen.

Who's my greedy
little piglet?