All language subtitles for Helen.of.Troy.2003.720p.BluRay.x264-GUACAMOLE.eng

'You may have heard
the story of Helen,

'a woman whose beauty
launched a thousand ships

'and started the most famous war
in history.

'You may have heard
of that valiant struggle

'that took place beneath
the golden walls of Troy for ten years,

'the best of our lives.

'Ten thousand men,

'the best the gods and dreams of glory
could have fashioned,

'all led by my brother, Agamemnon,
the mightiest of the Greeks.

'And Achilles, who could strike down
ten warriors with one blow.

'You may even have heard of Paris,

'who they say betrayed
his country and crown

'for love.

'But that is not the way it happened.

'Let me tell you the real story.

'I know. I was there.'

Kill him!

Kill him!

Kill him! Kill him!

Kill him! Kill him!

Kill him!

It's a boy, Your Highness. A boy.

You said, "Kill him. Kill him!"

Before any of us knew it was a boy.

Cassandra, have you just had
one of your visions? Tell me!

Priam, come see your son.

Cassandra, come see
your brother Alexandros.

Look, Cassandra, Cassandra.

I know that you see things. And I know
people don't believe you but I do.

You saw that it was a baby boy, right?

Now, what else did you see?

What else?

If he lives, Troy will burn.

Take my son to the mountain.

No!

Throw him from the highest peak.

- No!
- Do it now!

No! No!

No, no, no, no!

No, no! Please! No!

Please! My son!

'No!'

Gods, do your will.

Why would they?

What was it, child? Some foul prophet
jealous of your beauty?

Never mind. With me,
you shall be loved and honoured.

And I shall name you Paris.

Paris!

Paris, where are you?

Paris! Come, time to eat!

Whoa!

I've got goats that fight better than you!

Too bad you can't watch your goats
as well as you fight!

- Look!
- What?

Watch my herd!

Stubos!

Stubos!

Stubos?

Stubos?

Who's there?

Beauty is all. All is beauty.

Victory goes to the strong.

Gold rules men. Wealth is power.

Paris must choose.

You must judge

who of us is fairest.

- Who are you?
- Choose me, Paris.

I am Hera. I can give you wealth
beyond your dreams.

Athena brings Victory and glory forever.

Look into its face, Paris.

See what Aphrodite gives.

The most beautiful woman in the world...

Helen.

- Pollux!
- You shouldn't be outside the city walls.

Father is furious.

Let's get you dressed.
You can't go to a wedding like that.

That big one in front.

Is that Agamem...
the one who is to marry our sister?

No, that's his father, King Atreus.

See that one there with the beard?
That's Agamemnon.

They say that one day he will rule
the entire Aegean.

- Come on, let's go.
- Who's the other one, the young one?

That's his brother, Menelaus,
younger by two years,

and not fond of living
in his brother's shadow.

Come on, let's get you dressed.

- But where are they from?
- Mycenae.

- Where's that?
- Never you mind.

Theseus, my king, this is bad timing,
don't you think?

The greater the challenge.

I love a challenge but I'd hate
to be missing Athens in the springtime.

- You know how beautiful it is.
- You'll find beauty beyond those walls.

The most beautiful girl in the world
is here in Sparta.

She's just a child!

I'll ripen her like grapes,
I'll age her like wine.

When she ages just enough, I'll taste her.

But not when the greatest warriors
in Mycenae are behind those walls.

Don't be such a bore!
Let's have some fun.

Fun? No, this is not fun.
No, fishing is fun.

Playing the lute is fun.
Swimming in shark-infested waters is fun.

Committing suicide is not fun!

High King Atreus,
Prince Agamemnon, Prince Menelaus,

we welcome you to Sparta.

Great Tyndareus,
made greater by his kindness.

Made greater only by his most dutiful
and obedient daughter.

May I present the lovely Clytemnestra?

Clytemnestra...

I hereby claim you as my wife.

And who is this?

My youngest. Still a child.

An untamed and disrespectful child,
I might add.

- Her name, my lord?
- She is Helen.

Helen.

- Father, I will take her to her room.
- Yes, indeed you shall.

As punishment for her disrespect,
she will miss the wedding feast.

Father-in-law,

I see my bride is distressed.

You're quite right.

Clytemnestra's little sister is but a child,
a child who meant no harm.

Why not invite her to join us?

Well, that sounds fair.

I would be honoured
to be Helen's escort,

should the king's
legendary kindness permit.

Pollux, see that she is properly dressed.

Yes, Father.

- Have you ever seen anything like it?
- You are in so much trouble.

- What's all the big fuss about?
- Don't you understand anything?

You're not a little girl, you're...

You're almost a woman -
what are you doing?

- I'm no such thing.
- You are! Listen to me.

- Get off for a second. Listen!
- No, I won't!

Helen!

Helen, I love you more than life.

I know it's hard to accept but some day,
soon, you will marry.

- I already know who to.
- You do?

- I saw him.
- Where?

- In the water.
- You'll marry a fish?

- He's a shepherd.
- Oh, that's likely.

- Helen!
- I will! I will, Pollux.

- I had a vision. I saw his face and...
- And what?

He saw mine.

And one day, he'll find me.

I know it.

- I just...I know it.
- Good.

Good.

But meanwhile, you must be ready
for kings and princes to seek your hand.

- Why?
- Your beauty. Your spirit.

It makes men weak.

Ah!

Helen, you have no idea
what madness lies in men.

All men. Every one.

Even you?

- Yes.
- Ah, yes, I see her.

- There she is.
- Hm, yes.

- Halt there!
- Can you hold this, please?

Thank you.

- Why are you doing that?
- Doing what?

Casting lots.

I know what for too.

- I'm not some sort of a prize...
- Well done, my friend.

So you get the girl and I get the horse.

Well, I'll just have to find myself
another stunningly beautiful princess.

- Persephone, perhaps.
- She's sweet on pomegranates.

I hate pomegranates.

Farewell, my friend.

May the gods be kind.

Who are you?

Theseus, King of Athens.

You don't look like a king.

You'd better get used to me.
I'm going to marry you.

You've got me confused with my sister.

I'm not the daughter of Tyndareus,
who does what anybody says.

You're not the daughter of Tyndareus at all.

Of course I am.

You think my mother found me
under a cabbage leaf?

Some say that. I don't.

You're Queen Leda's daughter, all right.
There's no mistaking that face.

I'm my father's daughter too.

- That's the way it works.
- Tyndareus is my father.

They never told you anything, did they?

Told me what?

What happened to your mother?

- She died.
- Why?

Because of me.

I made her sick.

How? Do you know?

Tyndareus told you you killed your mother?

He didn't have to say it.

He can't look at me.

Your mother took her own life.

She leapt from the west wall of the palace.

No. You're lying.

Why would she?

She was raped.

Because she was beautiful?

Yeah.

- Is that what you intend with me?
- What?

- Rape.
- I don't rape children.

- Or are you a woman?
- No, no.

Well, when you are,
we'll be good friends. We'll be fine.

You can't take our best stock.

- You should be honoured.
- That you steal away our livelihood?

You will be compensated.
Fairly compensated.

Compensation doesn't fill our cows
with seed or give us meat.

Paris, they're taking your bull!

- That's the property of the King of Troy!
- He's mine!

- I raised him!
- Hold him!

Leave him! Leave him!
Leave my son alone!

Any other objections?

He will be the grand prize
in King Priam's games.

If you wish to negotiate with the winner,
you'll find him there.

Tell me the truth about my mother.

I need to know. Please.

When it happened,
Tyndareus was away in Egypt.

When she began to show
a couple of months later,

he'd been gone for half a year.

So the kingdom watched her belly swell,
month after month.

She was disgraced.

She had no husband beside her.

She waited till she had you, then...

Had me?

It was me?

No!

Helen, no! There are wolves!

Do I look like her?

Well, you're younger

and dirtier.

But when you grow up, if you grow up,
and you don't make me wring your neck,

you'll be even more breathtaking.

Who was it? Who did it?

Tell me who.

You're the daughter of the greatest god.
Zeus is your father.

That's why your beauty
will never be matched.

That's why no man will ever resist it.

You resisted me.

Well...

Well, not without great effort

Let me be your friend.

I think you could do with one.

I must always know the truth.

Always.

I'm going to Troy.
I'll get our bull back.

Troy is no place for people like us.

- I'm going.
- No, they'll hurt you.

If these ribs aren't broken,
they would have been with one more blow.

They can't treat us like that,
like we're nothing.

I'll bring back what's ours.

- There's no point.
- There is.

When I win it.

'And so Paris came to Troy.

'It was the richest city in the world.

'Into it were brought
silks from Asia, spices from Arabia,

'rare woods from Africa.'

A feast for the eyes. Both of them, huh?

'From its strategic harbour,
with its massive walls,

'Troy controlled all trade
north and south of the Aegean.

'And Paris would control Troy's fate

'more than he could know.'

It's the silver.

Hector! Hector! Hector!

Are you here to sign up?

- What's your name?
- Paris.

Of...?

As in where from?

Mount Ida.

- Where's your cuirass?
- My what?

Breastplate.

No? What about a helmet?

Any kind of Armour?

Boy! Fetch me
some of that old Armour.

How about your cudgel?

I could use this.

Look here, lad. You can't win.

But at least you have to put on
a good show.

Go ahead. Choose one.

You'll find some better than others.

Why can't I win?

No one ever beats Prince Hector.

Leave your knife on the rack.

Hey, shepherd boy!

The hero from Mount Ida!

Ah, the king's thief.

You're on, shepherd.
With your friend. Go on. Go.

Paris of Mount Ida

meets Pres Byterian,

Commander of the Guard!

The winner is Paris of Mount Ida!

You need better Armour.

This old Hittite stuff is junk.

- Is it bad?
- It's nothing. An old wound.

You shouldn't be fighting.

- I have to.
- Oh, really? Why's that?

I don't like thieves sent by kings

to steal my livestock
for their games and amusement.

The bull?

My bull.

Ah.

My father's games must be fair.
I can't fight a wounded man.

The rules are clear, my lord. You must.

- Paris, son.
- Father. Ow!

Paris of Mount Ida will fight
Damian of Carthos.

- You're hurt.
- I'll be fine.

- Your ribs. You can't.
- Father, I'll be fine.

The winner is Paris of Mount Ida.

Paris, you must stop this.

I've seen these crush a man's head.

Paris, you must never mind what happened.
We'll survive without our bull.

Paris...

you're my only child.
I beg you, come home.

You raised me to be strong
and to be loyal,

to defend what I believe in.

Paris of Mount Ida will fight
Hideous of Seramia.

I love you, Father.

The winner is Paris of Mount Ida!

I can't watch my only son get killed.

He's not your son.

- Be gone, old shepherd.
- Wait.

- He is my father.
- No, don't. It's Princess Cassandra.

- Alexandros?
- My name is Paris.

- You should be dead.
- Give me a minute.

The final match - Prince Hector of Troy

against Paris of Mount Ida.

No!

You must kill him.

- These are just games.
- You don't understand!

- He is good but he's only a shepherd.
- Alexandros.

He's baby Alexandros.

If you love your family, honour Troy,

you must destroy him.

You don't intend to fight me?

I'll fight you the way I live,
not Troy's way.

Do you know how to use a dagger,
shepherd?

You can't stop wolves with sticks.

What is he doing?

Then, use it.

- Kill him!
- What?

Come on!

'Kill him! Kill him!'

Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!

Alexandros?

Kill him!

Paris, no!

Do you surrender?

- I am prepared to die.
- I don't want your life.

Does Prince Hector surrender?

Does Troy surrender?

The winner -

Paris of Mount Ida!

Approach, Paris of Mount Ida.

Don't look at him, Mother.

Alexandros?

Are you Alexandros?

My name is Paris.

Father, what are you doing? Get up.

We have our bull. We can go home.

You are home.

Noble King Priam,

if someone must be punished,
let it be me.

- My son?
- There is no doubt, my queen.

I found him on the mountain.

My darling, darling child.

Shepherd,

you've done well.

You have brought home our son.

Welcome home,

Prince Paris of Troy!

- The prophecy has been fulfilled.
- What prophecy?

Because you live, we all must die.

How was the ride?

Mount Hymettus honey,
best in the world.

How do you know it's the best?

Well, I suppose I don't.

Then there's always a chance
you might find something better.

No.

- I want to love.
- You will someday.

I'm ready now.

You're young.

I'm a woman.

Someday, someplace,
you will find someone better.

Someone worthier.

When you do, neither the gods' will
nor the earth's turning

will keep you from him.

- That's how I feel about you.
- This has just been a kind of practice.

Someday you'll know the difference.

You always said that we'd marry.

Helen.

Hey...

- Pollux!
- Shh, quiet!

- Why are you here?
- We've finally found you. You're safe.

Ah!

Ow!

Leave him!

Let me go!

Let me go!

- Pollux, make them stop!
- Don't let her see it!

- It will warm her heart!
- No, Pollux, you don't understand!

Get off me!

Pollux, if you love me, hear me!

Let me go!

- No!
- It's all right, Helen! It's a fair price.

I gladly pay it.

No!

No.

Pollux! No!

'With the death of Pollux,
Tyndareus had no heir.

'The great kings of the Aegean were drawn
to Sparta like moths to the flame.'

Odysseus, King of Ithaca,
remembers the fallen Pollux

and offers his heart to King Tyndareus.

Achilles brings greetings
from the Myrmidons,

who stand with the people of Sparta
to defend its honour

and to revenge the blood
of the great King Tyndareus.

To die for a woman,
it's hard to imagine such weakness.

- You have not seen her.
- I don't need to.

- You're afraid to try?
- I'm afraid of nothing.

There.

You shed no tears.

By your actions
you have left me without love or hope

and Sparta without its future king,
yet you show no grief.

It should've been you who died.

Is there any among you
who will take this cursed woman?

Is there any among you
who wishes their home devastated,

his country brought to ruin,
his heart broken beyond repair?

I leave her to you.

Leave her!

Tyndareus is right.

She'll bring her husband more trouble
than he could imagine.

The path to her bed is strewn
with ash and death.

And yet is there not one man
round this table who does not want her?

Do you suggest that every king here
draw his sword against the other?

No, of course not. That would be...

What he wants is to have her
all to himself. Isn't that right, brother?

In truth, if we raise our swords at all,
they should point in the same direction.

- Toward riches in Byzantium.
- Or Persia's.

If we unite, we can conquer
anything at all.

Any creature, any nation.

Well spoken, Agamemnon,
but you control no army.

I should tell you that as we speak,

our father, the clear-eyed Atreus,
lies alone speaking with the gods.

Within days, they will take him
and I will return to the citadel at Mycenae.

Let us greet you as our new High King.
Mighty Agamemnon of Mycenae.

Agamemnon!

Now, can we agree
to unite in time of war?

What do you say, Odysseus?

I have a family. I'd rather plough a field
and sow it with salt than go to war.

And you, Achilles?

Some of us may prefer
a long and quiet life at home.

I would live it short if I knew I could die
with the taste of glory on my lips.

You will have it shod
if one of us takes Helen.

Yet perhaps this is the way that
we can unite as Agamemnon wishes.

Good Odysseus, the wisest of us all.

Tell us, O wise one,
what do you propose?

Two things.

- First, we swear an oath.
- What sort of oath?

Whoever takes Helen

can trust that we will defend that man's
sole right to her with our lives.

The rest must be content
to admire her from afar.

And second?

We cast lots.
The winner takes the bride.

Never!

Who...

What gives you the right
to agree on such a thing?

- The right of one man to one vote.
- Who has ever heard of that?

There is no such thing.

Then we begin here.

Who swears the oath?

Agamemnon, as we two are
the only ones who are married,

how do you suggest we cast the lots?

Given this noble assemblage,
I would say our seals.

Closest to the jar may claim his bride.

Menelaus.

What say you, my brother?

I say the gods have spoken.

And each man here
would be wise to keep his oath

or face the everlasting wrath
of Mount Olympus.

Your daughter is so lovely.

Hm. She reminds me of you.

So long ago.

Iphigenia, come.
Say good night to your aunt.

Have you been bouncing?

Whoa!

Give your aunt a kiss.

Go to bed. Quickly.

Making a child so sweet
might be reason enough to live.

You have many reasons, Helen.

Tomorrow you will marry
my husband's brother.

We'll be sisters and sisters-in-law, both.

Yes.

They are hard men.
But it is possible to love them.

Paris, Father asked to see you.

He's sending you to Sparta.

Why?

Because he wants you to take a message
to the new King Menelaus,

younger brother
of High King Agamemnon of Mycenae.

High King?
Some sort of supreme ruler, is he?

That's right.

- And now he's talking war against Troy.
- Why?

Because we control access
to the silks and spices of Byzantium.

What?

I can't believe
people go to war over nutmeg.

Well, they do
and you'd better get used to it.

Where is he now,
this High King of theirs?

I don't know.

Agamemnon's in Sparta
for the funeral of Tyndareus

and the crowning of Menelaus.

When I get there, it will appear
I've been sent to divide the brothers

who will kill me
and put my head on a spike.

Then Troy will be rid of me,
Cassandra will be redeemed

and you can get back to being
the sole heir to the throne.

- Am I close?
- You're being a fool.

Look me in the eye and say that.
Look me in the eye.

Brother, the gods have divined it.

So be it.

Such strong winds, my lord.
The gods must have hurried us here.

- Yes, it would seem.
- They must favour your mission.

I wouldn't count on it.

Helen, I'm the obedient wife
but even I will tell you,

he's taken this oath too far.

When you were a child
and Father punished you,

you would always come back fighting.

Why aren't you fighting now?

I've caused such grief and destruction.

Helen, you did not ask to be kidnapped.

Nor rescued, for that matter.

It's not your fault.

- Prince Paris of Troy has arrived.
- Bring him in.

- You don't know.
- Why do you have to do this?

- Menelaus commands it.
- I don't do it for Agamemnon.

Ten thousand men
have sworn their lives

to defend his right to have me.

Agamemnon believes
the kings should see proof of my worth.

How can you let them treat you like this?

They can look all they want
but they'll never see me.

Beautiful.

Breathtaking!

Wait, wait, wait! We come in peace!

I'll be fine.

- He seeks peace, my brother.
- There is no peace with Troy.

He bears a letter from their king.

To whom is it addressed?

Do not shame me, brother.

Troy seeks to align with Sparta

and Sparta alone.

They have sent him
to drive a wedge between us.

We can let nothing divide
the blood of the House of Atreus

but not now, not here.

Let him remain, freely speaking,
until we know enough of Troy

to find a way inside its golden walls.

The crown has made my little brother
wise beyond my expectations.

Catch me, Theseus.

Catch me, Pollux.

You?

I've seen you.

In the pool.

You saw too?

- I've come for you.
- It's too late.

The gods decree it. Aphrodite herself.

Then the gods torment me.

How can you say that?

When I'm there with them,
I feel nothing.

Naked in front of
a hundred kings, nothing.

Then tonight, when I saw you,

something began to tear away my shield,

to expose the one thing
that I cannot endure.

Hope.

You have it now.

I love you.

Loving me kills people,
destroys families,

causes such grief you cannot imagine.

I imagined you all these years.

And now I've found you,
I cannot let you go.

I will never leave you.

The day I do is the day I die.

Go away.

Leave me. You must never see me again.

You consort with a Trojan,
an enemy of Sparta.

- Do you want to be put to death?
- Yes, I do!

- What's happened to you?
- I've become visible.

You're not making sense about anything.

- You meet some envoy and before you...
- No, I didn't just meet him.

I've loved him for years.
Before you even married Agamemnon.

That can't be possible.
It's not true, is it?

What's going to happen?

I heard Agamemnon and Menelaus
talk of Troy.

And?

Tomorrow they will ask the envoy
about his city.

When Agamemnon learns all he needs
to know, we will return to Mycenae.

- And Menelaus...
- Will kill him!

You did well tonight.

- The kings were pleased.
- Until the envoy arrived.

Yes.

Why is he here?

That makes no matter.

Did he come bearing tribute?

There is no tribute
that compares with you.

You are a generous man.

No, I'm a lucky man.

Stealing is not a crime in Sparta?

Being caught is the crime, always.

There was a boy, young,
no more than ten,

he stole a fox and hid it under his cloak.

He died while being questioned
and when they removed his cloak,

they found he'd let the fox gnaw through
his body rather than reveal his theft.

- Such boys make good soldiers.
- Yes, they do.

We train them from the age of seven.

Ours learn to tame horses
from a young age.

You must Visit our stables
whilst you're here.

They're not as grand as your own,
I'm sure.

I've heard people say
that the walls of Troy are made of gold.

Is this really true?

No, but they are beautiful.

Iphigenia, where are you?

Perhaps one day I will see
the walls of Troy for myself.

I've found you!

No man can possess all he desires.

Calchas.

My lord.

My wife tells me
that no man can claim the world.

What say the gods?

Olympus favours the High King,

who one day will rule the entire Aegean.

You may bear my children.

Never again will you interfere with
my affairs. Is that understood?

- Come with me.
- You and you, let's go.

Let's go!

- Aren't we here to make peace?
- We like making peace.

- Yes, a lot.
- The Greeks have other ideas.

What sort of ideas?

Like cut off our heads, put them on pikes,
let birds eat our eyes.

That sort of thing.

Prince Paris of Troy,
my king bids you a fond good night.

- Man those oars!
- Get to the tiller!

Go now. You're free.

Without you?

- You have my love.
- Without you I have nothing.

My lord! The tide begins to turn.

Menelaus is shamed
but he fears to harm me.

Now, go.

I beg you, please, go!

My lord, the wind is up.

Please.

Please.

Make way, men!

To the oars.

Ready, pull.

Ready, pull.

No.

Hold oars!

Make way!

What have we done?

Well fought, Clesus.

Achilles, Achilles...

- Your news precedes you.
- I'll kill that man, you can be sure of it.

You brought shame
to the House of Atreus.

I'll have the Trojan's head on a spike!

- Not without my help.
- Oh, yes.

As always, I must bear the weight
of your shadow.

You're a smudge on history's legend
but you are my brother.

The kings of the Aegean
have sworn an oath.

To unite. The oath did not place you
in command of me, my army or any other.

Do not incur my wrath,
little brother, do not.

These are my terms.

You may have the Trojan

and your whore - I will take Troy.

You will share no spoils,
not a scrap of broken clay,

not an ingot of their basest metal. Agreed?

- I am your brother...
- Do you agree?!

Why would the kings unite behind you?

The gods have written it.

- You know for certain they favour you?
- For certain!

Save him!

- Swim!
- We're all going to die!

- Here, reach for me.
- This storm's going to kill us!

Ah!

Two months.

- The wind remains against us.
- The men grow impatient.

I grow impatient, Achilles.

Calchas.

My lord.

When will the winds blow with us?

What say the gods?

Speak, seer.

What must I do?

A terrible thing.

Tell me.

I command you.

The goddess Artemis
asks for your daughter.

In trade for fair wind,
Artemis demands your daughter's life.

Here, on this altar.

And this will satisfy the goddess?

But you must hold the knife.

The gods demand it.

Of course they do.

The winds will soon be with us.

Ready?

Oh!

Ready?

To Troy!

Must we leave
now that the ship's repaired?

- The men have asked.
- I understand.

They have wives, families.

You know, we could stay here.
Just the two of us.

I promise I'll make a far better shepherd
than I do a prince.

My lord!

Many ships!

We have to warn Troy.

- You must go. Now.
- We must go now.

You can't give Agamemnon
the excuse for war.

Agamemnon wants Troy.
He's always wanted Troy.

That's why my father sent me to Sparta.

And now, wherever this path may lead,

we're on it together.

This way.

- Hector.
- The elders demand to see you.

Alone.

- Do not harm her.
- I'll be all right.

It is you who brings harm to Troy.

Men, thank you. Go home.

You steal the King of Sparta's wife.

And you bring her here
with the entire Aegean fleet on your heels

and you expect us to turn a blind eye
to your wanton frolics!

Father, please allow me
to present my case.

You have presented us with a war!

Agamemnon presents war, not I.

You sent me to Sparta to confirm it.

My King,

elders of Troy,

the High King of Mycenae
has fastened himself to Troy

as gateway to the treasures
of Byzantium.

The woman belongs to Sparta.

Where she's treated worse
than a Hittite whore.

Forced to walk naked among Aegean
kings who leer and spit obscenities.

I did not take her.

I saved her from a people
who find no worth in women,

place no Value on beauty

and seek their only honour
through glorious death in battle.

Father, do not listen.
The woman brings the end of Troy.

She must be returned to Sparta.

- Where is Helen?
- She's being prepared.

- For what?
- Her husband.

Does Troy so fear the Aegeans
it turns its face from mercy?

Are the gilded walls of Ilium so weak
they cannot defend kindness?

Are you all blind?
The woman is a Spartan.

She must leave here. She must go.

She will kill us all.

Good King...

your daughter speaks the truth.

- I have no right to be here.
- Helen.

I wish to return to my husband.

Your wife awaits you.

Menelaus, King of Sparta.
Odysseus, King of Ithaca.

Troy welcomes you.

Great King Priam, we are...

honoured to stand before you.

We know you to be just and wise

and therefore will see reason
to return to Sparta

what belongs to Sparta.

For what purpose?

Purpose?

You ask us to return to Sparta
that which belongs to Sparta.

Is this your property, your chattel
or your evening's amusement?

Will you insult me?

I demand you return my wife!

Bold King of Sparta...

I ask the question again.
For what purpose?

Because she is mine.
Because she is my wife!

It is a simple question.

And I will make it painfully simple,
if only for your benefit.

You will return Helen...to me

or the armies of the Aegean will sack
your city and raze it to the ground.

Good King Priam,
if I may speak on the matter?

A man loses his wife to another.

She's stolen
or goes of her own free will,

it makes no difference.

That man is so consumed
with grief and passion

he becomes rash,
even senseless at times.

It would be the same for any man here.

The farmer in the field,
the merchant in the street,

even a king.

King Menelaus pleads with you
to return his wife.

For what purpose, you ask?

For the only purpose
that can account for such fervour...

love.

Only that.

King Odysseus,
you have spoken well and wisely.

You shall have our answer
before sunrise.

Leave us.

- I asked to be returned.
- Is that what you want?

It is my duty.

I have two questions.

Do you love my son?

With all my heart.

If I send you back, will it stop this war?

Why not?

- I know him.
- Menelaus?

The other.

Bring me Achilles.

The main fleet lands here,
Agamemnon and I here.

We scale the cliffs to a plain
that leads to the marketplace.

Up a staircase, through an arch,
in front of the city gates.

The merchants will retreat to the city.

Compassion will keep the gates open.

Take the beach. We will pass
through the market in disguise.

A shod life full of glory -
isn't that what you wished?

May the gods smile on our destiny.

I agree with the elders.

I have no doubt that the High King
of Mycenae comes to Troy

for the purpose of making war.

We are also aware of speculation that
he has sacrificed his daughter Iphigenia

for the purpose of securing
a favourable wind.

This is not the conduct
of a man of peace.

We also agree that to sacrifice
your honour, or even your life,

will not appease his desire
or make peace more likely.

For these reasons, we invite you
to consider this city to be your home

for as long as you shall live.

And should you choose to renounce
any further affiliation with Sparta,

you shall henceforth be known
as Helen of Troy.

Do you accept this offer?

I accept.

It appears they will keep her.

To Troy!

To Troy!

All ahead!

Get down!

We need to pull the barriers down!

Ropes and hooks now!

- Gather what you can!
- Hurry with those!

Leave it!

On to Troy!

There is no time!

Out of the way!

They're soldiers. Alert the guards.

You brought all this upon us, Paris,
you and your golden Aphrodite.

Hurry!

Onward!

Fall before Achilles!

Archers!

Fire!

I fear for Agamemnon.
He should be here by now.

Spartans! Follow me!

Fight on, men!

Ten of your best men.

Ahhh!

Back to Troy!

Agamemnon!

Unfortunate.

Thank you, brother.

Retreat from the archers!

Head them off!

Now!

Go! Now!

Fall back!

There!

Quickly!

Close the gates!

- Well done, my boy.
- Thank you, Father.

I owe you my life.

We are blood.

What say you now, sister?

Will Troy still burn?

Don't ask a question
if you don't want an answer.

Well, Cassandra, is there an answer?

For ten years,
the Greeks will pillage our country,

attack our gates.

For ten years, they will raid
the southern shores,

enslave our neighbours, fatten themselves
on their butchered cattle,

become rich with spoils

and our friends will flee here,
and flee here...

and flee here.

Until these walls are packed
with broken people

and our city is filled with sorrow,
our streets flooded with tears,

until not one of us has food to eat,
water to drink or air to breathe!

Cassandra! Enough!

The war will not be over
until the curse is lifted.

You all know it. Why can you
not understand? Why do you not believe?

Because, child, we must not believe you.
We cannot believe you.

- Paris must die.
- Stop her, Father!

I cannot stop.
I will not stop until you listen!

You don't know what you're saying.

I say the truth. Only the truth.

But none of you have seen...

what I see.

She's mad!

Enough! This family, this city,
speaks with one voice.

There will be no dissent.
Guard, take her away. Put her in a dungeon.

A creature will come,
a creature that eats men.

He will eat you, Father,
and you, and you, and you.

He will eat all of you!

You all will die!

'And so ten years passed
beneath the walls of Troy.

'At home, our own cities
crumbled into ruin.

'The men had lost all their dreams.

'They'd forgotten
what their own wives looked like.

'But I could not forget

'and Agamemnon would not forget
and so we stayed.

'And stayed.'

I am glad that there is laughter
in here. Really.

There is none outside in the camp.

The men want to go home.

Menelaus is right.

My wife has suitors breaking down the door.
Her weaving ruse cannot last.

And ten years is too long.

We must finish this war. Or go home.

- So we shall.
- Shall what?

Fight...or retreat?

Both.

When the outcome of Troy is determined,
I wish to know it.

You seem sad.

What?

A message.

Agamemnon proposes peace.

At what price?

This war has gone on too long.

I propose we negotiate an end to it.

On what terms?

Paris fights Menelaus.

Single combat.

Whoever wins...

claims Helen.

Helen belongs to Troy.

No matter who wins...

we will leave.

If you speak for Menelaus,
it's you I should fight.

My brother?

I challenge you, Paris.

To the death.

For my wife.

And for my honour.

- Your weapon?
- Javelin.

I accept.

These belonged to Atreus.

It's he you avenge today.

Can you envision a future

where some feckless Trojan leaps up
onto the tomb of the great Menelaus

and proudly recounts this day?

Can you see that day, my brother?

Can you even imagine it?

Ahhh!

revenge the House of Atreus!

Die, Trojan.

Die!

The gods must be on your side.

I could have told you that.

I know this substance.

How long have I got?

The Thracians use it to hunt monkeys.

- It's not lethal, just...
- Unfair.

I swear I did not know.

Tell me something.

Do you...do you honestly believe
that you deserve her more than I do?

Yes. Yes, I do.

We took an oath.

I am ashamed, the way we...

the way I treated her.

Somehow, I feel
you're not much like your brother.

You might have noticed that in Sparta
before you abused my hospitality.

Before you had me killed, you mean.

I might have let you go.

Probably not.

Is she well?

Yes.

Does she ever...?

Has she spoken of me?

Now I must ask you something.

Agamemnon wants Troy. Not Helen.

Yes.

Then why are we trying
to kill each other?

His amusement.

Have you ever thought
some day you should defy him?

- Can you walk?
- I think so.

King Menelaus!

You're alive!

- A misunderstanding.
- Paris lives!

All hail Prince Paris!

They will fight again tomorrow.

No. We will settle this today.

I will take the place of my brother.

Hector.

I challenge you, High King Agamemnon.

This time...

without poison.

You do not stand for me.
I cannot allow you to fight for me.

I stand for Troy.

I fight for my country!

Not my first-born!

Hector...

it is for me to end it with Agamemnon.

- It is my path to follow.
- You are my modal brother.

And I am proud to share your journey.

Hector, my boy.
Come back within these walls, I beg you.

I stand for High King Agamemnon.

I've skewered nothing but rabble
for ten years. I'm sick of it!

I thirst for royal blood.

Mighty Achilles,

- Helen is not your fight.
- I do not fight for Helen.

- Then for what?
- Something Trojans do not understand.

Achilles fights
for his own hollow pride!

He honours nothing
but his own image in the glass.

He hungers only for glory.
If you do not feed him, he will starve.

Hector, my boy.
Pity your mother's misery.

And mine.

I beg you, do not hand over your glory
and your own sweet life

to such a brutal, war-loving dog!

You throw first.

- We should draw lots.
- No.

Go ahead. Take it.

I'm waiting.

- You should have hit me then.
- I don't fight that way.

I do!

No!

Achilles!

- Take me!
- Die, Hector!

Today, I feed your son to my dogs!

Tomorrow, they will devour
your Prince Paris!

One blow!

Yah!

- Cassandra?
- Leave me!

Paris believes Aphrodite protects him.
Can you see...

You bring ruin to my house,

kill my family, destroy my world

and you expect me
to soothe your worries?!

How dare you?

- My brother is dead.
- Yes.

- It wasn't a question.
- Then you must know why I'm here.

I will do anything to save him, anything.
Tell me what to do.

- See me.
- I do.

See me.

See me.

Achilles dies. The war begins again.

Ajax dies. Odysseus is wounded,
also Agamemnon.

When the day's sun sets,
only Menelaus will be left to lead.

Paris won't die?

Not today.

- And if I...
- Give myself up?

If you surrender to Agamemnon,
the Aegeans will leave.

And Paris?

He will live.

Wake Prince Paris, quickly.

Sire, the lady has left the palace.

Hyah!

Hyah!

Hyah!

Brave Trojans, please.
I thank you with all my heart.

But this is a weight I must bear alone.

High King of Mycenae,
I come to end this war.

Just like that?

I will do your bidding.

My bidding?

A trade.

The daughter of Zeus
for the body of Hector.

And you think that's enough?

Do you think my daughter's death
was for nothing?

Hm?

Is that what you think?
Is that what you are saying?

Can you even imagine
the innocence in her eyes

as she reached out for her own father?

And he held her in his arms,

raised her up,

heard her laugh,

so full of trust.

As if he, somehow, was capable of good.

And then that startled look.

Can you imagine?

No.

Then I will tell you.

There is no trade.

Not you,

not Troy,

not even my own life will balance the scales.

Now, do you understand?

Yes, I understand.

Your rage destroys worlds.

But it is yourself you hate.

Achilles!

Achilles! Achilles! Achilles!

Hyah!

One blow!

Achilles!
Achilles! Achilles! Achilles!

Achilles! Achilles! Achilles!

One blow! Yah!

Achilles! Achilles!

Agamemnon!

We end this now! Right here.
To the death.

Whoa!

I stand for High King Agamemnon. Hyah!

Yah! Yah!

Ahhh!

Paris!

Prince Paris! Archers!

You've given me a hundred lifetimes'
worth of happiness.

Paris!

Paris!

Paris...

Please stay.

Please stay.

Please, please...

Goddess...

He wouldn't believe the prophecy.

He saw the fire in Cassandra's dream
as a burning love for you.

- My King! The Greeks have sailed.
- Can it be possible?

Search their camp.

Mummy!

- What is it?
- Look!

- What is that?
- The size of it!

Never seen anything like it.

The Aegeans are not to be trusted,
nor their gifts.

Archers!

Burn it.

Noble king, this is a day
of great sadness for you.

Still we must not be rash.

This, whatever it is, might be an offering,

or a gift to honour
the great horse-tamers of Troy.

Yes.

The hands that built this killed my sons.

- What does he say?
- They've left him here as a sacrifice.

What about the creature
they left behind? Why so big?

An offering to their goddess Athena.

It's big to shadow our city.

They say we cannot get it inside our gates.

That's what they think, do they?

Hm!

Dig him out.

Cassandra.

Can you see what happens?

I see you.

- Following.
- What am I following? Who?

Where am I going?

Where you belong.

I belong with Paris.

I gave myself up. It didn't save him.

You gave yourself up.

But you didn't surrender, did you?

Did you?

Do you see him?

No. Not yet.

I hear them, playing.

I can always tell that sweet laughter.

Little Hector.

- Do you see them?
- Yes, yes. I see them.

- Are they all right?
- Yes.

They're all right.

When they grow up,
they will make you so proud of them.

So very, Very proud.

You gave me such beautiful children.

Such beautiful children.

Psst.

We are free, my friend.

Welcome, cousin.

Spare my queen.

Ooh!

Bring her.

My lord, this way.

As I said...

no trade.

No!

No! No! No!

Leave her!

Hey, hey.

Helen.

What has he done?

Go.

Go quickly.

Clytemnestra.

I told you once...

never interfere.

I come for Iphigenia.

She's not here.

I know.

My daughter!

My daughter!

'War is waged by nations.

'But it is human beings that pay the price.

'For those of us that survived,
we are left with the memory of shame...'

- The King is dead!
- '...and misery and bloodshed.

'In these dark times,

'the only thing we have left
to hold onto is love,

'the one true gift of the gods.

'And it is through love

'that we hope and pray

'the gods will send us peace.'

Paris.

Brave Helen.

Wherever you are, take me with you.

I cannot.

Will we ever meet again?

I've prepared you a place.

Good.

Do you think I would kill you, Helen?

I do not thank you for my life.

I understand.

I cannot love you.

What will you do?

I will follow.

I accept.