Original subtitles

We have won many victories in the arena.

Sent many an unworthy opponent to the afterlife.

Yet self-important men hold us to the lesser matches of the morning,

absent both eyes and prominence.

Such time has found its end.

Two days hence, our champion will take to the sands

to face another of Vettius' shit-eating dogs.

Not in the streets, but in the fucking Primus!

Behold the champion whose recent performance

inspired good Varis to return

the House of Batiatus to proper position!

Behold, Gannicus!

Gannicus! Gannicus!

An inspired performance, indeed.

One not to be repeated.

A true god of the arena!

A man to be admired and emulated!

This is but glorious beginning!

Soon you will litter the sands with the blood and bone

of all who present challenge!

Instructed in the ways of death and glory

by a former champion!

One of our very own!

I give you Oenomaus!

No longer to hold that name! No longer a gladiator!

Now and forever more, to be revered as your Doctore!

Doctore!

This has been wielded with pride by each before you,

since the time of my grandfather.

Bestowed on only the most loyal and honourable of men.

Your will. My hands.

The Primus.

To gain such position, Varis must truly

have been impressed with your prowess.

As am l.

- It was nothing. -It is a great honour.

For yourself, and this ludus.

Both of you bring honour to this ludus.

Each in his own way.

Did you note how he could scarce meet my eye?

He must now heed my commands, and does not embrace it.

Will the other men share sentiment towards my honoured position?

It is his position that stirs troubled thoughts.

He sets mind to the Primus,

as you must to training the men.

I know this is not what you wished for.

And yet, here I stand elevated.

As you deserve.

For taking a life?

For betraying hand that forged the man before you?

There was no betrayal in what you did.

Some acts cannot be avoided, when stripped of choice.

Now turn thoughts from unfortunate past.

We must look towards days to come, and embrace them.

Barca, pair with Crixus.

The rest of you, continue training.

At last, the gods remove cock from fucking ass!

The House of Batiatus, no.

The House of Quintus Lentulus Batiatus

rises to the fucking heavens!

Soon my champions will be carved in stone,

towering above all who came before.

And Gannicus will be the first of them

after his victory in the fucking Primus.

The position was not gained absent aid.

I offered naught but introduction

and a few selective words of suggestion.

You could wile the Goddess Laverna herself.

Your place in this will not pass without much fucking gratitude.

The kind I favour most.

Has a man ever been so blessed?

Quintus.

Father?

Gather yourself. I would have words.

I leave this house in your care,

and this is what greets me upon return?

I was not expecting your arrival.

Am I to announce myself to the walls that I own?

Of course not, yet if I had known of your return from Sicilia...

The knowledge would have produced what result?

Flowers and scented oils laid to meet me,

masking sight of a son gone to shit?

I but celebrate.

Upon what cause?

Angering Tullius with refusal of reasonable offer?

Your exclusion from the games?

How do you come by that?

I am old, Quintus. Not dead.

There are still those in Capua that hold my name in regard

and would see me well informed.

- Good Solonius counted among them. -Solonius?

He sent word of his concerns regarding your dealings with Tullius.

The man is seized by unnecessary worry.

Your face suggests otherwise.

A minor disagreement.

Nothing with a man such as Tullius is ever minor.

A fact obvious to the simplest of minds.

Then it is a blessing a greater one than mine has arrived.

My frustration is more with myself.

You never wished for this.

The ludus, gladiators, the blood, the sand.

Your eyes were always towards the horizon,

to glories and triumphs forever out of reach of a common lanista.

And yet here I stand, a lanista like my father.

Not like him at all.

You have never been able to look into the eyes of a man

and gauge his true heart.

Only days past, I looked into the eyes of Quintilius Varis

and gauged way to secure the Primus in his games.

Varis has never employed a lanista not blessed by Tullius.

Why now break tradition?

Because I possess what Tullius does not.

- Gannicus. -Gannicus?

The man is a jest, inciting more laughter than awe.

And now I find he is desired by half of Rome?

Much has changed in your absence.

And much has remained the same.

I would review my men, and see how they have fared,

denied proper guidance.

Have feast prepared as instructed.

And send to market for an amphora of mulsum.

- Yes, Domina. -The highest quality,

not that shit from Flavus.

Again with the honeyed wine.

Does the corpse drink nothing else?

Lower your fucking voice.

The man has severed you from moorings.

He is the paterfamilias!

One word dropped from his tongue could send us both to the streets.

We must be beyond reproach, or fall to ruin.

Very well. I will be a vision of demure obedience and propriety.

On the outside, at least.

We are honoured by your return to Capua, father.

I am certain your heart swells.

The clime of Sicilia has most certainly restored health.

Perhaps you do not recall me.

Gaia, a dear friend of...

The memory of you has not yet faded. Quintus.

We must prove this fucking house in order

and prompt decision for his quick return to Sicilia.

Withered old fuck.

Eat, brothers! You bear the mark now.

Savour the taste of victory!

Welcome, boys.

Our piss once again finds its way into their mouths!

As if sucked from our cocks!

We bear the fucking mark!

Received absent the test.

A fucking goat may bear the mark, it does not make him a brother.

Hey!

- What the fuck did he say? -Fucked if I know.

He wants some more.

You should not eat with lower men. You are Doctore now.

A title I did not seek.

I would not have events absent my control come between us.

Nor would I.

Greetings.

Auctus. Nurto.

Oenomaus!

You assume mantle of Doctore?

After unfortunate death of his predecessor.

I chose Oenomaus as replacement, knowing that he...

Gather your food and let us retire to your cell.

I would exchange stories of the passing years, old friend.

Dominus.

The way they fawn over him.

Falling to knee to lick his fucking ass!

He takes over my house, my gladiators, my fucking bed!

Did he give voice toward length of stay?

He gives voice only towards considerable faults

of un-fucking-worthy son.

Leave.

I secure the Primus, and he acts as if I shit upon the name Batiatus.

You raise it beyond anything he can imagine.

He will see this, and bitter tongue will turn to praise.

He would sooner bite it off, than have it betray him so.

I had forgotten the feeling,

this sudden abyss, as he sets disapproving eye upon me.

Come.

You will not need to endure his presence long.

His health has fled in these climes before.

Should he fail to realise that his house, his name,

is in proper hands,

a forced return to Sicilia will eventually arise.

I would see him removed sooner.

Your return lifts the heart, Dominus.

Only for those who yet possess one. Gratitude.

Attend!

Pair up!

Crixus, spar with Barca.

Auctus, work the palus until Gannicus joins us.

Oenomaus, this one is too small!

I would have something the size of a man!

Barca!

Do as your Doctore commands.

Yes, Dominus.

Come, let us see what is between your legs.

The Gaul winces from spear, as he would from my cock!

Is my long, hard weapon too much for you, little man?

I am without lesson against it,

but your instructions are well received.

Apologies. You rise earlier than expected.

I rise at proper hour.

An attribute neither you nor your man Gannicus seem to share.

Harsh words will find the man's ear.

It could be shouted yet ignored.

Gannicus is no champion.

I would promote Auctus or half a dozen men in his place.

- A matter we disagree on. -One of many.

What man spars with Barca?

Crixus, a fierce Gaul of worthy stock.

I recall name from the ledger.

A sapling of exceeding cost.

The man will earn the mark, and see investment well returned.

Doctore, bring Crixus up.

My father would have closer inspection...

No. Continue training.

We are to town for necessary business.

I will have Barca prepared as an escort.

Barca is a gladiator, trained to wield weapon in the arena,

not be yours in the street. Now come.

Your late rise already threatens the appointed hour.

You would have me sit with this fucking man?

I would have you silent.

While I attempt repair of damaged relation.

Titus.

Good to lay eyes, old friend.

Your experience in delicate matters of business has been sorely missed.

To be rectified presently.

Come, sit.

You recall my associate, Vettius?

Vettius?

You were but a child last I knew.

How the years flee from us.

How fares your father?

- Dead. -Apologies.

How terrible.

The boy is ill-starred acquaintance with such misfortunes.

Why, only days past he was set upon in our own streets,

on way to appointment with Quintilius Varis.

Varis?

The same man who, absent Vettius' presence,

managed to find way to your ludus...

Where this fucking cock eater stole the Primus from me!

Vettius! Hold your tongue.

How do you answer this?

He accuses absent cause.

My wife and her friend Gaia came upon good Varis in town,

baking under noon-day sun.

Gaia?

She knew Varis from her days in Rome, offered respite at my villa

while he waited for the absent boy to come to purpose.

A fortunate coincidence for all involved.

And was it this same fortune that saw me set upon

by your fucking men?

Did you see faces? Did they bear my mark, you wet cunt?

Enough!

Remove yourself to the street.

Go.

And leave reasonable men to discourse.

Your son has much to learn in the ways of diplomacy.

A subject all young men struggle to master.

Let us school them in its ways.

You are better matched against wooden men.

Work the palus, Gaul.

Resume!

Are we to follow Barca's commands now?

He shares my thoughts.

The Gaul falters against spear.

Perhaps advice from a champion would aid his cause?

Days past you fought me with something approaching skill,

yet opposite Barca, you act as his lover,

face down with your cheeks spread.

The spear is unknown to me.

You are Gaul.

Did you never face the Arverni?

My years before capture never held the privilege.

They wield spear with deadly purpose.

As does Barca, from the judging.

He but instructs.

Each blow a lesson never to be repeated.

You should be quite the scholar

by the time he has beaten you to death.

Crixus.

You fought well against my two swords.

Rid a Hoplomachus of his spear,

and he is left with only one weapon.

Barca!

If you're done with your man's cock, I would have proper contest.

The gods bless Barca with another tiny man to fuck.

Your man Gannicus appears in fine form.

As he will in the Primus,

elevating the house with glorious performance.

My heart yet races at the thought of his last.

We'll place such memories behind us.

A difficult feat, when so enjoyed by all.

Some more than others.

Come here.

Apologies, Domina. Guests have arrived.

Guests?

Varis.

We were not expecting...

The fault is mine, for failing to announce.

Good Cossutius is on stay from Rome to celebrate the Vinalia.

After I extolled the virtues of the House of Batiatus...

I demanded introduction immediately.

You honour us, but my husband tends to

final preparations for tomorrow's games in town.

How disappointing.

Yet we could remove ourselves to the balcony

for proper viewing of his gladiators until his return.

I fear you mistake intent.

I was not regaling Cossutius with tales of your men.

But of your house's more intimate delights.

I fear that was a special consideration.

Was it?

Perhaps Vettius will be more accommodating then,

concerning this and my Primus.

It would be unfortunate to have come so far,

and find hands empty.

Would it not?

I would not have it so.

Excellent!

Let us prepare Gannicus and...

No.

For what joy is there in exploring ground already discovered?

None at all.

What do you offer?

A gladiator of your choosing paired with a slave

as yet untouched?

Untouched?

A delicacy no longer present at the moment in my house.

Then it is fortunate you find yourself in ours.

Solonius! A word.

One for you, sir? Fresh just this morning.

I would share its equal.

I came to you as trusted friend,

carrying news of Tullius' renewed offer towards Gannicus.

You carried but shit spewed from an errant hole.

And what of other knowledge I lighted upon treacherous ears?

That of Varis' arrival, to be met by Vettius?

Vettius is a fool.

Under the employ of Tullius!

He will think I had hand in the boy's assault.

He suspects nothing!

His thoughts have turned towards my father inside.

What seizes fucking mind, dispatching message to him?

Your father is in Capua?

He sits with Tullius as you bleat, stroking fucking cock.

- Why do you remain in the streets? -Why do you think?

I did not mean for his return.

I sought only advice

towards worry for a man I hold as brother.

Intentions well received.

Let us place transgressions aside in favour of more pressing concerns.

Your patience and reason recalls joyous times,

when business was conducted by those who shared respect for it.

I fear we are a dying breed.

I am certain you shall outlive us all, Master Batiatus.

Solonius. I hardly placed you.

The years weigh heavy on a man, do they not?

Your presence is fortuitous, striking need to seek you out.

Share walk, and let us review recent events.

Am I allowed voice now?

Could the gods halt the sound?

Whatever Tullius and the boy may think,

I gained the Primus on merit of Gannicus' prowess.

Even if true, it is of no matter now.

Gannicus will not appear in the games.

But Varis has made personal request!

A necessary sacrifice, towards levelling unequal ground.

You will make apology to Varis,

relaying Gannicus found injury in training.

And that Vettius is amply capable of seeing the Primus attended.

You give away the Primus, and now ask that I tongue the fucking boy's ass?

I ask nothing.

This is how it will be.

In return a few of our men will be paired against each other

after midday sun.

Our men fight themselves?

The only plank salvaged from such wreckage.

Then we must choose the men with care.

They have been chosen for us.

Tullius now selects my fucking men as well?

An unavoidable concession.

Barca and Gnaeus, Auctus to face your Gaul, Crixus.

Crixus is but a recruit, not yet a fucking gladiator!

Who you failed to mention was purchased from Tullius.

To gain...

To gain his favour.

And what fruits did your scheme bear?

This is price due for attempting to manoeuvre men above your station.

Be thankful it was not more costly.

Are you certain you would not prefer the man bathed and scented?

He stands perfect towards his cause.

I would, however, gauge the freshness of your offerings.

Remove your robes.

Did I not tell you?

They are of a form.

But a woman's worth is not always revealed to the eyes.

A man must probe deeper for true value.

Remove yourself to the vestibule.

Return if Dominus and his father are seen upon the road.

I shall have this one.

She's considerably tighter.

Move on top of him.

Do you know why I chose this man so crudely etched?

The smell of shit hot upon his breath.

Because this world is filled with the grotesque and the divine.

They exist together, two sides of a coin.

You cannot have one

absent threat of the other,

yet words do not convey the true nature of this.

It must be experienced.

It must be felt and never forgotten.

Your presence has been missed in Rome since your husband's passing.

Your charms will brighten darkest night.

I long to return

and crest dawn upon a husband yet of this world.

How does your dowry stand?

I was under impression you were absent family of means.

Gaia is a treasure within herself.

One to be coveted

by a man untethered to the burden of position and appearance.

Cossutius.

You were well satisfied?

Praise laid upon your house has not been exaggerated.

It is a wonder.

Such base diversion would be impossible to conceal in Rome.

Capua is a city of many pleasures.

Often obscured by pressing business, to which we sadly must attend.

You take leave so soon?

A regrettable necessity.

Gratitude for your hospitality.

I look forward to seeing you at the games,

and your man Gannicus upon my Primus.

You honour us.

Crixus begins to show promise.

Upon his back?

The man always rises. A trait to be admired.

So you have eyes for the Gaul now?

- And if I did? -I would fucking kill you.

Come here...

You fucking cunts!

You soil our food!

Why should we not make meal of your fucking pets?

Crixus!

You do not help your friend?

This is a fight between brothers. I do not yet bear the mark.

Have you lost fucking mind?

Stand down!

Calm yourselves!

Is this what my house has fallen to?

Brother setting upon brother,

so far removed from the honour of the arena,

where such contest holds meaning?

This points to reason the gods have turned from us,

stripping the Primus from our hands.

I do not fight in the games?

You do not.

Yet our sacrifices do not stand unrewarded.

A few of you will take to the sands after midday sun.

And I expect those chosen to bring more honour

to the House of Batiatus than you now bring to yourselves.

Yeah! Fuck you! Gnaeus fights Barca!

And I will split your ass in two.

Fuck.

You do not gain position?

I do. Against Crixus.

Your favourite.

The man does not even bear the fucking mark.

Am I to fight?

You are to die.

At the end of my spear.

So you fight in the arena, I do not.

The gods truly punish me.

I long to be of the Brotherhood, to become a gladiator.

But to be awarded position,

it is an honour I have not earned.

There are many things given to us in this life for the wrong reasons.

What we do with such blessings, that is the true test of a man.

Go well, be victorious, brother.

May Auctus fall and Barca follow.

Auctus. Gnaeus.

Return victorious, brothers, for I am out of wine.

After all we've done.

The sacrifices made.

Only to have the Primus torn from grasp.

Torn would imply resistance.

My father offers none.

You could not move him from this decision?

Hercules would fail in the labour.

Are we set to leave?

I would not arrive late.

Doctore gathers the men.

Perhaps some mulsum while you wait, father.

To celebrate your return to the games.

You seek to ply me with honeyed wine?

You find my weakness, and I would have it exploited.

- I shall join you. -it disquiets your stomach too much.

Especially in hot weather such as this.

- It never did agree with you. -Guards!

A trait gained from your mother.

A presence sorely missed.

Every day-

Your Gaul appears ragged.

The result of extensive training

in preparation for the test he is yet to take.

You set this in motion, Quintus, by purchasing the man to gain favour.

Only after I looked into his eyes, and saw a spark,

as you always spoke of.

Then today presents rare opportunity.

Auctus, a man forged beneath my rule, to face Crixus, forged beneath yours.

The outcome to prove if son has learned

anything of worth from father.

Your time has come.

Gratitude for all you have taught me.

Fight with honour.

And if the gods will it, die the same.

Crixus.

A word.

You have shown great promise

in practise, in exhibition against Gannicus.

Yet this is the arena.

This is where men become gods.

Legions with far greater training and skill than you

have fallen upon this sacred ground,

many beneath Auctus' spear,

but I do not think that you will be one of them.

You have the blood of a champion,

to rival any my father has ever heralded.

Do you wish to behold such miracle come to pass?

It is all I desire.

Then seize fucking glory.

And see us both proven worthy.

Have you set Crixus to purpose?

I stoke the flame as best I can. It is now up to the man to ignite

or be forever extinguished.

It is a pity it is not Gannicus, nor the Primus.

It was well earned.

Yet he is the one honoured,

while his only fucking son is left to languish.

Soon your father will attest your worth.

Or decay into the afterlife.

Either way, we will be free of him.

An epic showing from the House of Batiatus,

certain to please the gods!

In gratitude, we will be merciful, and grant life!

You are overly kind.

Your house has been most accommodating,

and should be rewarded.

Well, gratitude. I...

Are you unwell?

Perhaps the excitement is too much for him.

It is but the heat and dust.

Water.

I would not have torrid throat announce your final offering.

Address the crowd?

The honour is unfit a lanista.

We decide what befits a lanista, Batiatus.

Make introduction and let us move on.

I stand humbled

before the great people of Capua.

My home and my heart,

too long parted from chest.

In gratitude,

I present the final offering from the House of Batiatus.

Entering the arena,

a virgin upon its sands,

I give you Crixus,

Murmillo!

His opponent,

a warrior unmatched in skill and honour.

I give you Auctus,

Hoplomachus!

Capua!

Just like last time! Just like last time! Come on!

Begin!

Auctus wields spear to rival Mars himself.

Well, he has been well trained.

The same cannot be said of Crixus.

Perhaps he should have remained a haulier of stone.

Cut him through, yeah!

Stupid fuck!

Kill the little cunt!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Barca has taught you well.

Yeah!

Crixus! Crixus!

A fine showing, Batiatus!

With unexpected conclusion!

Indeed it was.

I swear to be burned, chained, beaten, or die by the sword,

in pursuit of honour in the arena.

Welcome to the Brotherhood.

Crixus proves himself.

Perhaps even as match for Gannicus one day.

In and out of the arena.

You fought well, brother.

Your Gaul, still yet a recruit, defeated a gladiator

I considered among the best of my men.

It would appear I underestimated Crixus.

As I did my son.

- You honour me, father. -You honour yourself,

when cleared of plots and schemes.

Thoughts far removed, never to return.

Nothing pleases more than to see reason take hold of senses,

and a house righting its path.

I will see it continued in your absence.

Absence?

I assume you return to Sicilia. Your health...

Seeing Crixus' victory stirred passions

I have not felt in many years.

The blood and the sand, the roar of the crowd,

it lifts spirits more than change of clime could hope to offer.

No, I will stay at your side,

and together we shall see the House of Batiatus

rise to former glories.

You remain here?

Until breath flees wearied flesh, calling me to the afterlife.