All language subtitles for Spartacus Gods Of The Arena E01_Subtitles01_Unnamed.ENG

There is but one path.

We kill them all.

I am your Dominus!
I will have your fucking hearts!

Quintus...

Lucretia!

What would you do

to hold your wife again?

To feel the warmth of her skin?

The taste of her lips?

How many men would you kill?

I left the deed in Barca's hands.

Now you're free.

We are betrayed by
the Beast of fucking Carthage.

You are beneath me.

He is a magistrate.

One can never know who
is plotting violence, can one?

Or when they may commit the act.

Your wife, she moves ever closer
even as we speak.

My word is kept.

They're reunited.

You will become the greatest lanista
in the republic.

And on such a title,
we will climb beyond our station.

Beyond Capua.

Perhaps to the very steps
of the Senate itself.

The fights are particularly
entertaining today.

You'd enjoy them more
viewed from the pulvinus.

Fucking shit eater.

Let Vettius preen like a woman.

You'll school him in the ways of men,
when Gannicus takes to the sands.

Absent Tullius
and the Magistrate to bear witness,

what's the fucking purpose?

One man in today's games.

One only, and the seats
needing to impress

stand empty as Vettius' fucking head.

Get up!

Solonius! What news?

Tullius and the Magistrate were
delayed with pressing business,

but arrive shortly.

As long as
this current match continues...

No. Get up!

Good day!

Get up, get up, you fuck...

Vettius begins the match
without proper introduction?

Proper?

Vettius and the word
are of distant relations.

I for one am grateful
to be spared his oratory.

The man's voice causes skull to ache.

Gannicus takes position!

Now there's a fucking gladiator!

Tear his fucking face off!

Begin!

Is your man ever of a serious note?

He can strip naked and fight
with his cock as long as he wins.

Gannicus, I love you.

What's he doing, Quintus?

Fucking kill him!

Fucking kill him!

No!

Wait for the Magistrate.

Gannicus, do not kill him!

Do not kill him!

Now they arrive.

A victory regardless.

Won in dewy morn.

None of the important matches happen
till after the midday sun has passed.

Consider yourself fortunate to
have a man in the games at all.

Good Solonius stands
with empty hands.

Come then.

Let us see them filled with drink.

Tell Doctore to see
Gannicus back to the ludus.

And have him properly rewarded
for his showing.

Can we not stay
for the rest of the games?

Vettius' men command
the prominent matches.

He has more than enough eyes
to watch him stroke his cock.

I would not add ours to the sight.

Now you like me, Capua.

Doctore.

Dominus orders Gannicus
returned to the ludus,

and seen to reward.

Perhaps one day
the pretty little bitch

will fight later in the afternoon.

With the rest of the men.

You and your tiny cock
best pray that day never come.

Save blood for the fucking
sands, Gannicus.

What seized fucking brain,
releasing your swords in the arena?

I could have killed the man
absent an arm and both fucking legs.

Hubris.

A fine quality.

Often possessed by cunts
who perish from it.

Did you catch the manner of his eye,
as he gazed down from the pulvinus?

Fucking Vettius.

Barely free of his mother's tit,

yet he carries himself above lanistas
of more deserving years.

Youth often imagines
itself swollen beyond worth.

Time will cure him of the condition,
as it does all foolish young men.

Time is what he holds in abundance.

The new arena will be finished
in but a handful of months.

If we are excluded
from the opening games...

Vettius is but shit from a shit town.

How could Tullius and the Magistrate
favour a boy from Nola

over one of Capua's own sons?

Well, how do they do it now?

We must prove ourselves
in the more important bouts

in the old arena and secure position.

To fight later in the day,
we must first distinguish ourselves

against Vettius' men.

Yet Vettius' men only fight
later in the day.

A vexing conundrum.

Lucretia?

Gaia!

Gaia!

Well, you come to Capua
without telling me?

I have only this moment returned,
with intentions of seeking you out.

Do you travel with your husband?

He takes to road no more.

Not in this life, at least.

Apologies.

None required.

It was his time.

Are you occupied?

I am fit to bursting
with stories of my adventures.

Quintus?

What man dares stand
between women and gossip?

You must tell me everything.

Secret, no detail.

Removed from the ears of men,
my lips willingly part.

Gaia returns unencumbered

and in enticing form.

That woman is
a force of fucking nature.

One that has blown many
an unsuspecting man to his ruin.

You require someone more refined
to grace arm as our fortunes rise.

Have eyes ever beheld such a marvel?

A sight to put the Circus Maximus
in Rome to bitter shame.

We will be the ones shamed

if grand ceremony passes
absent our gladiators.

We must force advantage
before opportunity slips from grasp.

No, we must be patient.

Your father would venture forth
with respect and caution.

Then a blessing he is not present.

Perhaps we should send word
to him in Sicilia?

Petition advice?

I can already divine
the content of his reply.

Which is why he never
rose above his humble station.

Fuck patience.

Look to Tullius for the way.

He seizes opportunity by the balls

while lesser men
are left holding cock!

A simple merchant,

yet he gives honoured
counsel to the Magistrate

and all the rest of the noble
shit eaters of Capua.

Truth told, yet at excessive volume.

I would shout his praise
to the fucking heavens.

His hands shaped events,

resulting in the erection
of the new arena.

He supplies slaves from
the farthest reaches of the Republic

to speed its completion.

Through the ambitions of Tullius,

Capua is elevated.

A lesson to be studied
and reproduced in kind.

Is that all?

A simple task then, Batiatus.

Dominus.

Between us, we have the greatest
gladiators in Capua.

Barca, Acadeus, Gannicus...

Men forged into something
beyond their worth.

Beyond anything that smug
little piss, Vettius,

could ever hope to offer.

Perhaps Tullius should not
have strayed so far abroad

in acquiring slaves.

What's he doing?

Pick him up.

Crixus.

You know the rules.

No one breaks line!

Hold!

This one of good Tullius' slaves?

It is.

- I would make purchase.
-Purchase?

What's the man's worth?

He is not for sale.

Fifty denarii.

What are you doing?

Seizing balls.

The man is barely worth 10.

Why would you pay such
a sum for a shit Gaul?

Shit?

Do you not see
the promise in his eyes?

The spark smouldering in his breast?

I would give it tender,
to ignite in the arena!

Fifty?

Well, add another five
to weight your own purse.

Lend me 20 denarii.

You pay too much for the man.

The man is nothing.

I pay to gain favour with Tullius.

A waste of coin.

The shit fuck will
never be a gladiator.

Even the lowest man
can rise beyond the heavens,

tempted with the proper reward.

He was well satisfied?

Very well.

Dominus will be pleased.

Not as much as I am.

When are you not so?
Especially with yourself?

It is a curse.

Being blessed with so much to offer.

And so few interested in sharing it.

See yourselves well-scrubbed.
I would not have you smell of goat.

Goat?

A dead one.

The smell of victory, brother.

Well-earned.

The men all speak of your triumph.

As they will of yours,
when you return to the arena.

The crowd will come in great geysers,

drenching the gods
gathered to witness

Oenomaus once more upon the sands!

I would have words with my wife.

Absent your cock,
which has escaped you.

It will be missed.

Has Dominus spoken of my return?

I've not heard it.

More than a year has passed
since I faced Theokoles.

Perhaps Dominus does not intend...

You were the only one to ever stand
against the Shadow of Death and live.

Batiatus would be a fool
to keep you from the arena.

Or I am the fool,
for ever dreaming of such a thing.

You are many things.
Foolish is not among them.

Batiatus waits,
but for the perfect day

for his champion to retake glory.

Is it true?

That his thing is as large
as a horse's?

- Diona!
-Are you not curious?

Is Gannicus really that big?

Where is Domina?

In the triclinium with her guest.

Diona, see the girls bathed.

Yes, Melitta.

It is exciting
speaking of such things, is it not?

I was of a similar age
not so long ago.

I know the giddy enticement
of the subject.

Yet, you and Diona
should turn thought from it.

Soon enough,
your flowers will be plucked.

Hastening the moment will only result
in bruising of the petals.

Yes, Melitta.

And in regards to Gannicus...

I've seen bigger.

Well, you don't seem overly
distraught at his passing.

How would you present,

after years enduring
withered flesh groping at you?

But when you left Capua,
I thought you madly in love.

I was, with his purse.

Sadly, his fortunes
went dry towards the end.

And did you aid in their evaporation?

What can I say?

I am the glorious sun.

Returned to bless
loving rays upon favoured friend.

Gaia...

I have far too many baubles
brought from Rome.

Along with other
pleasures to be shared.

It suits you.

It would dazzle Venus herself.

I fear I have nothing so
exquisite to give in return.

Your company is all I ever desire.

And?

And I would not refuse the comforts
of a well-appointed villa,

until I manage other arrangements.

Involving a ripe purse?

I shall ask Quintus when he returns.

Ask?

Women do not ask their husbands
for permission.

They manoeuvre them to proper answer

before question is ever
put to tongue.

Gaia.

So many years have passed,
and yet nothing has changed.

Everything has changed,

and for the better,
by the judging of it.

When last we parted,
this house was but a tomb,

haunted by the living spectre
of your husband's father.

And you, forced to smile and cater,

bringing him his honeyed
wine every evening.

I thought the crusty old bastard
would never succumb to the afterlife.

He is not yet so far removed.

Merely retired
to Sicilia for his health.

So he yet controls the ludus?

No. My husband does.

As his proxy.

Was Gannicus well-attended then?

He was, Domina.

Gannicus?

That Celt with the ridiculously
charming smile?

He has risen to prominence
in the ludus,

ever since Oenomaus
was injured against Theokoles.

In an amazing display of bravery.

Gannicus.

Oenomaus.

All the hard, rippling men
right beneath our feet.

One moistens at the thought.

Gaia!

They are but slaves!

Please.

In all the years
you've called this ludus home,

you've never once considered
fucking one of them?

The very thought
of that turns my stomach.

I would never lay with any man
besides my husband.

Let alone a filthy gladiator.

Fucking Gaul.

Another sacrifice
to the gods of the arena.

Dagan thinks you have a form,
giving odds in your favour.

Odds?

Do you know where you are, friend?

The House of Batiatus.

- Trainer of gladiators.
-Yes.

You stand among his latest recruits.

Bound by pain and blood,

together we toil beneath
the cruel sting of Doctore's whip.

There were eight of us
when training began.

Now we're but three.

Four.

And how are we so blessed
by a swelling number?

By what means do you find yourself
among such storied company?

My own.

I was bound to Appius, the slaver,

carrying stone toward purpose
of the new arena.

I saw Batiatus, and knew him
by his words of gladiators.

So I gained his attention.

You willingly present
ass for fucking?

No.

No, young Indus.

Do you not see it in his eyes?

This is a man with dreams
of blood and glory.

I doubt he'll live to see the test.

- Test?
-Our last trial.

We must all face
one of the seasoned men

and demonstrate to the Dominus
what we have learnt.

Live, and receive
the Mark of the Brotherhood,

proving yourself worthy of the arena.

I will stand upon its sands.

He longs to call you brother

and join you as gladiator.

Tell him the feeling is well-shared.

Jupiter's cock!

Fifty denarii
for a fucking stone haulier.

Coin well spent.

Was it?

Word surely has reached Tullius' ear,
yet none of gratitude return.

Fifty denarii!

Solonius was right.

I should temper patience,
as my father would.

You're not your father.

Nor would I have it so.

Perhaps tomorrow you will
find yourself in the market,

where you have often mentioned
Tullius frequents upon a certain hour

overseeing his concerns.

A chance encounter to gauge reaction?

Certain to be favourable.

As I know your reply
to my request will be.

Give it voice and see it considered.

I would have Gaia remain with us.

Just for a few days,

until she can manage
other arrangements.

The request does not surprise.

Is that a yes?

Ask for the moon, and I would
wrest it from the heavens.

Gaia will be so pleased
at your answer.

Let her keep company
with her wine a moment longer.

Has a wife ever had such a husband?

He but honours her

and the gods for guiding her
to his arms...

Crixus, lower your shield
when you thrust.

See it raised, or your fucking
brains on the sand.

Yes, Doctore.

Lucky blow.

A blow well struck.

I will not make the same mistake.

Good!

Again!

Doctore!

I would work the palus. In the shade.

I would not let gaze linger.

Gannicus is a fucking fool,
yet one of deadly skill.

He's often rewarded
for his victories with wine and cunt.

Gain Dominus' favour,
and such delights could be yours.

Drink and women are not my concern.

More for me then.

Fucking recruits.

Smaller and smaller each year.

Apologies.

Oenomaus!

You return to form.

Pair with Crixus,
and bring him up to speed.

Dominus.

Gratitude.

For your instructions.

Lesson one,

never drop your fucking guard.

Do you lay eyes?

No. Perhaps Tullius
did not come today.

He always arrives, and seldom departs
before noonday sun.

Are you his shadow now,
adhered to each footstep?

I but study my subject,

as any proper student
would in the pursuit of knowledge.

Tullius' man.

I seek your master, good Tullius.

Would he be within?

I wish to express my gratitude

for allowing me to purchase
his slave, Crixus.

The Gaul shows great promise
towards the arena.

Perhaps you could
pass word of my presence.

You owe me a few of those,
if you recall.

A costly enterprise, for us both.

But one prays we'll turn profit.

Good Batiatus.

The gods answer.

In mocking tone.

I hope for occasion to give gratitude

for relieving me
of that troublesome Gaul.

Think nothing of it.

A gesture of respect,
for a man deserving of it.

Received with all intentions.

Yet I fear you have overpaid.

A common mistake, for those
with no head towards business.

Fifty denarii, minus the 10
of the Gaul's actual worth.

Well...

I do not ask for its return.
Fair bargain was struck.

Fair?

A clumsy manoeuvre to gain position
for your ill-trained men.

Vettius.

Ill-trained?

Any one of my men could
best yours fucking blindfolded,

you pissy little shit.

Listen how the rooster crows.

- Let us calm ourselves...
-You doubt my words?

Test them.

Request the match
in next month's games.

Why delay?

Let us see it here in the morning,

the people to judge
who holds the better man.

In the market?

Surely the Magistrate
would not approve such disruption.

Good Tullius has his ear.

The Magistrate could
be swayed to allow it,

if that is what you wish?

It is.

And long past due.

Tomorrow then.

A friendly rivalry, well settled.

You press beyond advantage.

No.

I fucking press towards it.

You should have seen young Vettius,

so easily goaded
into making challenge!

The fucking child!

All men are reduced in years
when faced with a superior mind.

Superior in all accounting!

A fact Tullius
and the rest of the city

will bear witness
to in the marketplace.

Sleep will come
with difficulty tonight.

It's been ages
since I've seen a decent match.

Or Tullius.

In the blush of youth,

he was forever attempting
to slip beneath my robes.

You should have fucking let him.

Tullius has grown
to be a man of worth.

One to be emulated and admired.

And who will you choose
to impress him?

Vettius' foolishness
presents rare opportunity.

The question begs
careful consideration.

I have news to lift the heart.

Vettius has made challenge.

The coward finds his cock.

And I would see it shrivelled.

My best man is to meet his dog
in the marketplace come morning.

The market?

Detail of no consequence.

My question to you is plain.

Is our man prepared
for such a vital match?

Yes, Dominus.

I long to honour
this house once again.

I fear you have mistaken intentions.

I speak of Gannicus.

Gannicus.

The question is
better put to Doctore.

Leave.

His counsel is always valued,

yet he is my father's man.

His judgment clouded through
a haze of outdated traditions.

I seek a more visceral assessment.

You and I practically grew up
together in this ludus.

You have witnessed the rise and fall
of a dozen champions.

What now does your gut
tell you of Gannicus?

Is he worthy of the mantle?

I believe it so.

He must truly be
for you to offer support,

despite your own desires.

I would not give false tongue
to gain advantage.

There are few that
would stand with you so.

Your wife's weekly visit.
Two nights hence?

Yes, Dominus.

I would see her to your bed
tonight as well.

In gratitude for honest thoughts.

Dominus.

Do the gods ever answer your prayers?

They often reveal their leanings,
though not in words.

Much like my husband.

Dominus summoned me.

To ask of Gannicus.

Gannicus?

He has chosen him as champion.

He is to face Vettius' man
in the marketplace tomorrow.

And this is why you sulk?

The streets are no place
for the mighty Oenomaus

to make his return.

The arena will be home
to your triumphs,

when the time comes.

And I will be there to witness it.

I will dream of your touch.

As I dream of yours every night.

Blood rains down from an angry sky

My cock rages on, my cock rages on

Blood rains down from an angry sky

My cock rages on, my cock rages on

Gannicus!

Brother!

Brother, come, drink, join me!

Lower voice!

If the guards were to hear you...

The guards have already passed
and were well plied with wine

to keep nose from fucking business.

Tomorrow, you fight
for the honour of this ludus.

Now is not the time for drink.

Every night is a time for drink.

For the morning sun may greet you

with your last fucking day.

Fall to your bed.

Or risk steeper plummet
against Vettius' man.

Words of wisdom, well received.
Well, well received.

Oenomaus?

It should be you tomorrow.

Where is good Vettius?

Is he among you?

Or did he come to his sense,

and remain within
the warm safety of his bed?

There he stands!

Fresh and young as a new-born calf.

The fool at last shows himself.

Batiatus.

We had begun to fret on your arrival.

Although I see you arrive
with unexpected gift.

It has been too long, Gaia.

And grows longer still.

Apologies for my delay.

I had much difficulty
in the choosing of a man.

An imposing task,

when each among
my stable stands a titan!

Perhaps young Vettius
should have taken more time

with the choosing of his own.

Words fall from your mouth,
as shit from ass.

Let us not become mired
in base exchange.

We are gathered this glorious day

to witness honourable contest
between respected rivals.

Clear space!

The years have favoured Tullius.

And his purse.

A brawl in the streets?

Where is the honour in such a thing?

Fuck honour.

This is business.

Gratitude to Magistrate Sextus.

The event's turn is
larger than expected.

Your mad schemes may yet bear fruit.

Enough for both of us to feast upon.

In the streets
of the great city of Capua!

Batiatus.

Present your man.

In honour of the Magistrate,
esteemed Tullius,

and the good people of Capua...

I give to you the fiercest Celt ever
to take up arms in the arena!

Slayer of beasts!

Conqueror of giants!

Behold Gannicus!

Champion of the House of Batiatus!

A fine choice.

Vettius.

Present your man.

I have no tongue
for overripe embellishment.

Nor is it required.

Otho, stand forth.

Your day finally comes.

And yours ends.

Gratitude to Batiatus and Vettius.

Now, let us judge
who stands the better house!

Apologies, Magistrate.

There appears to
be something missing.

Where is your man's blindfold?

Blindfold? What the fuck?

That was your boast, was it not?

That your gladiator could best
any of my men absent sight?

You did voice such a challenge.

A simple figure of speech,
not meant to be...

Good Tullius.

If Batiatus does not
wish to honour terms,

he should remove himself,

with tail between legs.

Doctore.

Come.

The task should
not be that difficult.

I need only direct my blades
towards the smell of shit.

Gannicus. Ever the fool.

Are you going to allow this, Quintus?

The choice has been
removed from my hands.

Begin!

Yes!

How thrilling.

I've never seen such a thing.

For good reason.

A noble attempt.

To be remembered only in its failing.

Get up!

Get up!

Yes!

Fucking kill him!

Yes!

Have you ever fucking seen the like?

Perhaps good Vettius should
pit a man less prone to death

against the mighty Gannicus.

An impressive display, Batiatus.

One not soon forgotten.

Gannicus is truly a wonder.

One deserving more prominent
position in the games.

You gaze upon my very thoughts.

Commitments beckon.

Join me at Nestor's shop
after the market closes,

and we shall discuss
your man at length.

Only mad Gannicus could win
contest fucking blindfolded.

Barca could do the same.

And I would kill you
for being a fool.

Auctus speaks truth.

Facing Vettius' man
absent sight was beyond foolish.

The gods must have taken
pity on your addled brain.

The gods had naught to do with it.

Otho, he grunts like a stuck pig
before each attack.

And his squeals,
they gave way his position!

Your victory lifts the heart.

You will not be rid
of Gannicus so easily, brother.

Dominus, he rewards me
with all the wine

that I can drink and I would share it
with my brothers!

Those that bear the mark.

One day.

Gannicus' victory forges
path to greater glory.

With Tullius' support,

we can finally gain
proper position in games.

Maybe a place in the opening
ceremony of the new arena.

After such a magnificent showing,

I have no doubt Gannicus

will be offered a place
in the Primus.

Primus?

Yeah, I favour
the fucking sound of that.

Expect late return.

I would seek out Solonius afterwards

to discuss extending
advantage to his house as well.

Send Tullius my regards.

And gauge his response
in remembering me.

How could he fucking forget you?

It staggers mind, the change in him.

Change?

You know my meaning.
He always seemed so...

Demure and cowed.

Now he positively burns.

He has always done so.

His light was merely muted
by the shadow of his father.

The man could turn day to night
with disapproving frown.

He never cared much for me.

Or, I suspect, anything
that smacked of enjoyment.

And what might this be?

More gifts from Rome.

The finest opium,
carried from Cyprus.

I have not partaken in many years.

- My husband...
-Will be gone most of the night.

Good Batiatus.

Word of Gannicus' victory
has spread throughout the city.

His name, and yours,
fall from every mouth.

May they always find
the taste pleasing.

Everyone clamours
to see your man again.

With exception of poor Vettius.

He is fit for seizure
from the ordeal.

Unfortunate

that he could not provide
more worthy opponent.

His stock is well-known
to be of inferior quality,

as is the boy himself.

The manner in which
he tends the ludus,

the child has no fucking
talent for it.

You surprise me, Batiatus.

Your disposition towards
business is much more

aggressive than your father's.

We are of diverging temperament.

And desires.

How does he fare in Sicilia?

The clime is more agreeable
to various conditions

brought about by
the passing of the years.

How did the Magistrate
take to Gannicus' display?

Ignited by it, as was the crowd.

He even broached subject
of retaining the man

for the opening games
of the new arena.

Gannicus in the opening games?

If you could aid in such a thing,
I would forever be in your debt.

It merely requires a word
in the proper ear.

All that remains
is to agree upon a price.

Of course.

I would be happy
to see coin to your hand

in exchange for assistance.

What sum did you have in mind?

You misunderstand, Batiatus.

I do not offer to broker arrangement,

I offer to purchase your man.

Purchase?

But why would you want a gladiator?
You're not a lanista.

Jupiter's cock, no.

Yet I have many vested interests.

In shipping, goods and services.

This very shop.

And young Vettius' ludus.

Look at the little fuck now.

About to shit himself.

Still your tongue.

The grownups are talking.

Two hundred denarii.

A generous offer.

In respect of your father.

Apologies.

I would not part with the man.

I allow you to purchase
one of my slaves,

yet now you deny me
the same opportunity?

Gannicus is not for sale.

Everything is for sale, Batiatus.

The question is but price.

I make fair offer.

And you produce cock to piss on me.

Do you know what that
feels like, Batiatus?

Reconsider your answer.

Or be excluded
from the games forever.