All language subtitles for _Age.Of.The.Dragons.2011.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

I had heard of him, of course,

as all hunters had.

It was in the age
when men still feared dragons.

As a boy, he learned the art of hunting,

to trap and set lures,

to keep him and his sister alive.

But then, the day came that would change
forever the destiny of young Ahab.

Facing such a creature, even the bravest
of men would have cowered.

How Ahab escaped alive, no one knows.

His face and body burnt.

Some say the white dragon let him live.

Others say he lost his mind
and his soul that day.

It was Ahab's tale that set me to tramp
on a perpetual journey

and that led me on a rainy, dank night
to Coffin's tavern.

Ishmael, isn't it?

You can call me that.

The name of your native friend here?

Queequeg. His father was a high chief.

He's an ambitious soul
descended from unconquerable warriors.

It's his face that tells a tale,
as if he would dare a thousand devils.

That he would.
He's never cringed from a fight,

and he's never had a creditor.

Another round!

Good men are ye.

Now, tell me about yourself.

I'm a wanderer, an orphan.

Whenever there's a damp, drizzly winter
in my soul,

I know it's time to get roaming again.

An adventurer.

I simply let the floodgates
of the wander world swing open my soul.

And a poet.

But why are you here looking for Ahab?

I've heard this is the place
to sign on to hunt dragons,

to share in the sale of their harvested vitriol.

We've come to sign on with Ahab.

'Tis true, lad.

The world is lit by dragon oil,

and this town is the market for all traders.

But why Ahab? Why that cursed man?

He's the most renowned
of all dragon hunters.

That he is. That he is, lad.

Are you telling me you're a harpooner?

Yes, I am.

Blasphemy!

Ain't it blasphemy, Mr. Starbuck?

We're all blasphemers, Mr. Stubb.

True, true.

But to hunt with Ahab,
you have to be willing to defy God

or be the best damn harpooner in the world.

You sure you're a harpooner, lad?

He's just a fresh-faced pup.

And you're just a fat pig who needs
to be skinned for grease drippings.

Hold on, Mr. Flask!

Let's see if there's any truth
in the lad's boast.

A contest?

This one will do.

What do you think, Mr. Starbuck?

Should we see who can pitch
a harpoon into the dragon's skull?

You're always worth betting on, Mr. Stubb.

Let's see how good your aim is, lad.

The Great White Dragon, Ahab's nemesis.

To see it is to face death. Nobody lives.

Except old Ahab, of course.

Mr. Starbuck, give the lad a harpoon.

I have one.

It's a bit small, isn't it?

Okay, Mr. Flask.

Step aside, lad.

Can you match that?

Now there's something
you don't see every day, Mr. Stubb.

Indeed, Mr. Starbuck.

Put it there, lad.

Now tell us. How does this thing work?

- It sends a harpoon faster and is more...
- It was just luck.

How are you with a knife?

Enough!

Who the hell is she?

The child of the devil himself.

Back, you drunk.

This is Ahab's daughter, Rachel.

So you're gonna throw against me now?

No, but if you wish to sign onto the Pequod,

then sign here.

He's a drone, I tell you.

Quiet. You're an extractor.
Do well to remember that.

You'll be entitled, as all the crew,
to an equal share of the profit.

There are plenty of hunters,
but not many game enough for dragons.

It's a deadly, dangerous business.

A toast.

To 100 dragons full of vitriol!

- Vitriol!
- Vitriol!

Drone.

He comes with me.

Are you sure it's safe out here?

Believe me, I don't need your protection.

We were just leaving anyway.

If it isn't Ahab's daughter,

or should I say Ahab's whore?

Who knows what kind of filth
you find on the streets these days?

We were never good enough
to hunt for you, were we, Rachel?

Just back away.

Tashtego, you were never good enough
to clean the shit from our vessel.

Stay out of this.

Just be at the Pequod at dawn
and don't celebrate too much.

Ishmael, look.

Need help, old man?

It is you who needs salvation.

I saw you sign the book.

Did you not listen to what I said
about signing away your souls?

Maybe you haven't got a soul.

Let's go.

He has a broken mind.

You haven't seen the old devil yet,
have you?

Old devil?

Did I not tell you how he'll be dragged
to hell and drag all those with him

to seek vengeance on the beast

that scourged his soul and his skin forever?

What's your name?

Elijah.

And mark me, lad.
Only one man will live to tell Ahab's tale.

One man only.

Hurry up! Hurry up!

The adventurers.

So you did turn up

and just in time to help me
put the supplies on the Pequod.

But first, I need a rest.

So what's the story
with your old friend there?

Doesn't say much, does he?

Not unless he has to.

How long you hunted on this crew?

About eight years and a lot of money.

Spent it all, though.

Married three times.

Left them each.

I left them all laughing

and longing for me to return.

But of course, I won't.

You ever fought this white dragon
Ahab spends his life hunting?

The beast is real, lad,

sacred to his people,

and it brings death
to whoever so it looks at.

Killed the whole of Ahab's crew
last time he faced it.

And that's when I signed on.

But no, lad. I've never seen it,

and I hope to God I never do.

You better bless
this old metal monster now.

It's gonna be your home for a while.

Come on. Stop sitting around.
Let's get the rest of these supplies on board.

Our vessel, the Pequod,

was a rare, long-seasoned,
weather-stained craft.

Her decks worn and wrinkled.

And its burnt, scorched-iron flesh protected
us from the fiery breath of dragon foes.

A cannibal of a craft,

tricking herself forth
in the chased bones of her enemies.

A noble craft but somehow melancholy.

But all noble things are touched
with melancholy.

And so we march towards
forbidden lands and barbarous lairs.

All for the dragon vitriol,
the sweetest of all oils.

And all the lamps
that burn around the known world

burn as shrines to our glory.

The chief-mate was Starbuck,

an earnest and loyal man
prepared to endure and endure always.

There was a wild, watery loneliness in him,
a void never filled

where a young wife and child had died alone
on cold days of disease.

Looking into his eyes, you saw
the many perils he'd calmly confronted.

He knew courage was not a sentiment,

and that an utterly fearless man is
far more dangerous than a coward.

Stubb was the second mate.
Happy-go-lucky. Neither craven nor valiant.

He'd converted the jaws of death
into an easy chair.

Presiding over his harpoon crossbow

as if the most deadly encounters
were but leisurely dinners.

The coil for the crossbow
was made of dragon entrails.

Treated to withstand scorching flames,
it was stronger than any rope.

And with it, we hooked beasts for the kill.

Flask was a base, mean-spirited man
with an ignorant soul.

He was the extractor,

trained in the dangerous art of removing
the sacks of vitriol from a dragon's throat.

Flask was also our cook,

and a poor one at that.

Then there was Rachel,

always the Captain's daughter.

Locked silent in herself
as if Ahab’s hold would never be broken.

I need to show you something.

The world runs on this vitriol.

It's pure before we dilute it
and sell it at market.

If this comes in contact with air,
it will explode.

But of our supreme lord and dictator,

he was yet unseen.

All day in his dark cabin,
he pored over his maps and charts,

filled with the secrets
of years of expeditions.

Each morning, he would give Rachel
the course we were to follow.

Since light still ravaged his scarred skin,

he could not venture out in daylight
unless covered in cloak and mask.

Each night, we would assemble
in the galley to eat together.

Flask.

Tell us a tale, Mr. Stubb.

You've heard all my stories, Mr. Starbuck.

I haven't.

Well, I remember my first hunt.

Met a beautiful, buxom barmaid.

No, we've all heard those too many times.

Tell us of dragons you've hunted.

Tell them about fighting aboard the Mocha.

Before I signed up with Ahab,

I was first mate
on a vessel called the Mocha.

I was young.

It was before the dragons had retreated
into the forest and the lairs.

When you first throw at a dragon, lads,

it's not like throwing
at a painting on a tavern wall.

You're standing there,

and the weight of your harpoon
feels like 100 anchors.

Your legs are shaking in their boots.

And when you try and breathe,
you feel like your lungs are gonna explode.

My mate throwing with me,
fine man, Whitman.

- You remember him, Mr. Starbuck?
- Aye.

Burned in a flash from the dragon's breath.

And as it roasted him,

his skin was turning black
and pink before my very eyes.

And as old Whitman crumpled to his knees,

he was screaming for me.

"Throw! Throw!" He cried.

And with the strength of almighty God,

I threw my harpoon at the beast!

Hit him right there. Hooked him good!

And with a sickening shriek

and a final flutter of the beast's wings,

it fell in front of us in a giant heap.

I don't know where it came from, lads,

but through his pain,
old Whitman looked up to me and smiled.

'Cause he saw the throw before he died.

And that is the story of a dragon hunter.

To Whitman.

- To Whitman.
- To Whitman. Fine man!

Now, lads, let me tell you the story about
the first time with the beauty with the big...

Big one, she was.

Each night after Stubb's tales,
we bedded down,

safe in the bowels of the vessel.

I began to wonder what strange adventure
I'd become entangled in.

What void was I trying to fill
within myself by this journey?

Would my life be spent
in endless days of killing?

That's when I would hear Ahab walking
up and down the upper deck at night,

always searching for the dragon
that haunted him.

And then the day came when Ahab knew
it was time to indenture our souls.

Mr. Starbuck, assemble the crew.

Rachel, bring the drink.

Tomorrow, we'll arrive
at the first killing ground.

You'll all be rich from this hunt!

But listen to me closely.

I will double the profit

of the first man to spy the white dragon.

No, I'll triple his profit!

Yeah, skin your eyes for it. Look sharp!

Captain, was it not the white dragon
that burned you?

Crippled your leg?

Aye, Mr. Starbuck.

You know too well
it was that accursed beast.

And I will chase him across every mountain
and through hell's flames.

That is what we pursue.

To track the white dragon
until we strike it, and it spews black blood.

Are you game?

- Yeah!
- Yes!

Captain, you also know well
that I am game for the jaws of death.

But I came to hunt and get rich,
not for your vengeance.

How many casks of vitriol will
your vengeance yield at market?

Think not to swerve me.

What I've dared, I've willed.

And what I have willed, I will do.

That dumb brute of a beast
simply struck you from blind instinct.

To seek vengeance
on such a creature is blasphemous.

Talk not blasphemy to me.

I'd strike the sun if it insulted me.

Rachel, bring the drink.

Drink and swear allegiance! Drink!

Swear to hunt the white dragon until death.

Now drink, harpooners!

Well done! Almost drained.

Now, Mr. Starbuck.

It was Rachel who led us through
the snowy tundra to the dragon hollows.

She had a keen sense, an instinct
for dragon's terrain.

It was my fear I had to somehow control.

Fear that freezes,
paralyzes your limbs, and numbs your brain.

I tried to fight it,
but I had never faced a dragon.

Stubb!

I got it!

Okay, crank!

Throw now!

Snap out of it, boy, and throw!

Get down!

Throw! Throw quickly!

Starbuck, get this off!

I'm coming!

Ishmael, throw!

I can't cut it!

Get back, Starbuck!

You owe me your best shot, you bastard!

Now, you hunted every animal.

Move.

His pipe finally smoked out.

He loved life and laughing at life.

He told me that was the only answer
to all that is strange.

We hunted together in wild, desolate lands.

Didn't matter to him.

He loved the hunt.

I'm sure he's presiding
over dinner with the devil.

We're probably all guests
at that table, Rachel.

I'll man his crossbow.

- Captain?
- Come in, Mr. Starbuck.

How is the crew?

Grieving over Mr. Stubb.

It is the risk of our peculiar business,
Mr. Starbuck.

- He lived his life as he wanted.
- Yes, but...

You're well-acquainted with death.

Has your dead wife or daughter
ever returned to comfort you?

No, Captain.

And they won't.

So block out their memory,

their weeping, their last death rattles.

I have studied the migration of dragons
my entire life.

I know their hidden journey

as I know the veins in my arm,

and we are close.

Well, we could have a full vessel of vitriol
and be back to the market before spring.

Not until we finish our greater business.

He is headed north to the mountains to nest.

It is moving faster than it has in other years.

It ages as I do.

Come here closer, Mr. Starbuck.

I'll show you
where we have an appointment.

You should have thrown sooner.

To Mr. Stubb.

He's right.

I should have thrown sooner.

You struck the dragon through the heart.

That's what Stubb would've wanted you
to remember.

He doesn't like to drink?

He prefers his pipe.

Gives him peace in his soul.

You've known each other long.

Yeah, we traveled the world together.

Seen many things, mysterious and strange.

But none like today.

And no one like you.

Forgive me.

Had a little too much.

Hold.

So will I ever learn your story?

My mother died when I was born.

My father was killed when I was eight.

Before Starbuck,
my father was Ahab's first mate.

In the mountains,
they came upon the white dragon.

Ahab told me it was my father
who pitched first.

Got a harpoon right into the beast.

Ahab tried to save him.

Harpooners are madly cursed.

I'm sorry.

I didn't know.

Ahab adopted me as his own.
He's taken me on every hunt since.

Ishmael, you better not let Ahab
see you lusting after his daughter.

I've had enough of you.

I'll kill you!

Flask!

When you're not looking,
and your savage friend isn't around,

I will cut you.

Then I have something to look forward to.

Come, Ishmael. We sleep outside tonight.

Good.

Touch him,

I'll cut your head off.

Here. That's where we'll find it.

I will strike it.

I will strike through his mask!

It tasks me.

And be the white dragon agent
or be it principle,

I will wreak my hate upon it.

This is the companion harpoon

that I left in the white dragon's skull.

I didn't kill it then,

but I will not fail this time.

Captain, it's been too many years.

Too many years,
and if you're just chasing...

- But the crew will come with me.
- They'd swear their souls away for free grog.

As you did, Mr. Starbuck. As you did.

Well, are you with me or against me?

You needn't fear Starbuck, sir.

But let Ahab beware of Ahab.

Tell Rachel I'll give her our new course.

And so we left the gray,
windswept hunting fields

to venture into the lands of dragon lairs.

We're being followed.

Have been for days.

That's why we keep post at night.

Better to steal vitriol than hunt dragons.

- You been in these lands before?
- Several times with Ahab.

I'm going to scout ahead.

You're coming with me.

There are glacial dragons here,

and they hunt in dense forests.

Starbuck tells me there's poetry in you.

I guess I've been mumbling in my sleep.

Yeah. You gonna recite me something?

We don't know each other well enough.

- Yet.
-"Yet"?

What about you?

I have no poetry in my soul.

Yes, you do.

But how long will you
let Ahab's hatred drive you?

You have such a way with women.

You must admit.
There is a purity in Ahab's constant aim.

No. All I have to admit is
you're a riddle to me.

'Cause I want to avenge my father's death?

My father used to say
there can be wisdom in sadness.

There is also sadness that is madness.

- Your father?
- Yes.

He killed himself when I was 10.

My mother carried on
as if she could survive,

but there are some wounds
you don't recover from.

And?

After we buried her,
my older brother took me in.

But his wife despised me.

So I stole away with a mining caravan.

To line your pockets with gold.

I found only empty dreams

until I found Queequeg.

He was the caravan's hunter.

Everyone stayed alive
off his skills with the spear.

He became my teacher and friend.

The world your hunting ground.

Yeah.

Well, poet, what can you tell me
you've found in your travels?

The putridity of gluttons, rum drinkers,

peculation, cunning, betrayal, murder,
seduction.

All have result beyond death
as real as before death.

Charity and personal force are
the only investments worth anything,

and he who has been wise
will receive interest.

Savage, felon, judge, farmer,
hunter, literate, young, old.

It is the same interest
that will come around.

All will come around, Rachel.

Purer than snow, but I felt its sting.

Behold, the mark of the beast.

He bears his crucifixion.

All scarred to pieces. Can you all see it?

A sacrifice, a shame.

The Great White Dragon.

He alone attacks and kills his own kind.

But his limbs, like mine, are rotting.

Starbuck, do you see?

Like I showed you on the map.

Get what's left of the vitriol.

There is an eagle in some souls
that can dive down into the blackest gorges

and then soar out of them again.

Flying above creatures forever stuck
on the plains.

It was Queequeg and I
who had become trapped

in the destructive current
of Ahab’s revenge.

I feel like we're trapped.

We should just leave.

But Rachel.

You two, up here! Now!

Mr. Starbuck and I will plot our final path
to the mountain's lair.

You have until morning, Rachel.

How many?

Enough to make you the richest of men.

Wyverns.

- Looks like at least 30 or so.
- Could be.

We only have till morning.
Then we have to move on.

Why? Is this not why we came?

We could fill our storage
with that herd alone.

Ahab's orders are to kill them all.

- Did you kill them all, Rachel?
- Yes, Captain.

Be quick, Mr. Flask!

Stop. I said stop, Mr. Flask.

Captain, we need the vitriol.

There! There!

There it is!

Did I not tell you?
Did I not tell you, Mr. Starbuck?

You did.

Get on board. Quick. We must move.

- What about the wyvern vitriol?
- Too late! We must move now!

We must follow it to its lair!

What?

Queequeg?

- Queequeg?
- It's a sign.

I am to die soon.

The great dragon has come to tell me.

I am a murderer.

I have slaughtered in vain.

We can't just leave.

Of course we can.

It is insane to leave.

- Captain, maybe we should think about...
- You know what we must do, Mr. Starbuck.

But it's why we came.

It's why we just butchered
all those creatures!

It was for the vitriol!

Are you questioning my order?

So we have killed for nothing.

There is enough vitriol from that kill
for you to be rich for the rest of your life.

That is not why we're on this journey.

You think I've survived year after year

just to slave, and toil, and, yes, butcher,

so money-grubbing oil buyers
can beat me down in cheap negotiations?

Do you think that is my purpose?

You think I dragged my ravished,
wasted limbs over these barren lands

for longer than you've been alive
to care for the squealing of the dead?

For years, I've subjected myself

to the humiliation of returning
to that demeaning marketplace ritual

to stay alive for one more year,
for one more hunt,

so that I can kill the white dragon.

I will not be deviated from my purpose!

- Then I will stop you.
- How?

Without your protector?
Where has he gone?

He's in some kind of trance.

He will not save you.
I've seen his kind before.

They wither inside
when they betray their ancient teachings.

And I will not tolerate mutiny!

Clasp him in arms, Mr. Starbuck,

and chain him to the back.

- Mr. Flask, get the chains.
- Gladly.

- Captain.
- Rachel, no.

We've come this far together.

This is the beast that killed your father.

It beckons us. It calls us.

It knows that we are destined to kill it.

Now, get this vessel moving.

Why? Why did you betray me?
I loved you like a son.

Beware of thyself, old man.

No.

There is only one God

and only one captain on this vessel!

You should've warned me.

But I forgive you, Rachel,
as I forgave your father.

I told you I'd get you.

Captured and chained
like the beasts I had hunted.

Was it some twisted fate,

some warped pre-destination
that led me to this state of misery?

I do not know,
but I do know that I hated Ahab.

Hated that ungodly old man.

You take second watch and be alert on deck.
We're being followed.

He hasn't moved since yesterday.

I've seen leaders go
into a trance like this for days.

Ishmael should not have rebelled.

He had it coming to him,
like Starbuck attacking Ahab.

Ahab will bring him back inside.

The Captain will not let him back.

It's just...

It's just us now, Rachel.

Can't you see that?

Ishmael can throw a harpoon,
and Ahab will need him.

Ishmael, you need to eat.
Ahab doesn't want you out here.

I don't want you out here.

Please, just talk to him.

You can come inside. Just reason with him.

Rachel, he killed Starbuck.

- Starbuck was going to kill him.
- No.

- Why won't you understand?
- No, you don't understand.

This is Ahab's vessel.

He acted in self-defense.

Rachel.

I care about you.

- I do.
- If you really do,

then come inside
and reason with the Captain.

There is no reasoning with madness.

- Bandits!
- What's going on?

They're stealing the vitriol!

Rachel!

Ishmael can come aboard.

He has redeemed himself.

And bring me back my harpoon!

Yes, sir.

Are you staying or leaving us, Queequeg?

Now is the time for you to decide.

Decide what?

To follow you?

An old, scarred man who chases his fears?

Say your piece and leave.

We stood in fields of slaughter!
I must perish.

I have mocked the gods.

Gods!

Gods!

Does the sun move by itself?

Is it an errand boy
for some benign god up in heaven?

Does a single star shine
unless lit by some unseen power?

How can a small heart beat by itself?

How can a puny brain
think independent thoughts?

In all these years, Queequeg,
you have wandered as I have wandered,

and who has put us to the chase?

Where do murderers go, Queequeg? Where?

Damn you! You are driven, I am driven

by the fate of our own will.

And so we must all perish.

Rachel!

We must anchor here.

Ishmael! Queequeg!

- Why are we stopping?
- This is as far as we can go.

The rest we'll go on foot.

You're gonna have to lower
and secure the anchors.

They're frozen.

Over there!

I want you. I need you.

- Enjoy this.
- I'll kill you.

No one can hear us in this storm.

You must come with me
if you care for Rachel.

And I know you do.

He doesn't have to come.

Yes, I do.

We are fate's lieutenants.

You must help me hunt the dragon
in his lair.

I need you, Ishmael.

Rachel needs you.

We will never have this chance again.

I will never be this close
to avenging her father.

You don't have to protect me, Ishmael.

I know.

I want to do this.

For you.

We followed Ahab,
climbing towards the white dragon's lair,

towards caves of death.

Queequeg pressed on with us,

even though he felt
he was trampling on sacred ground,

heading ever closer
to where he believed he would perish.

- I know of another entrance to his lair.
- All right.

Ishmael!

I cannot go with you.

I understand.

I'll stay here.

Wait for you.

Soon, I'll come back.

Secure the ropes.

We have to ambush him here.

Rachel?

Rachel?

All these years,
telling me the dragon killed my father

when it was you!

I thought he'd be dust by now.

Don't you lie to me!

That's your harpoon in his back.

He was a coward! He deserved to die.

I cannot, I will not accept cowardice.

So you killed him
because he wouldn't be as crazy as you are?

Where do murderers go, Ahab?

He was running away.

He wouldn't face his own fears.

Can't you understand, Rachel?

That is why I return!

It was me.

I ran.

He came!

And I ran. Yes.

I could not...

I ran! I was afraid. I cowered and ran!

I can't escape her scream.

I hid like a coward.

And I'll always be marked.

Forever.

You must understand.

I've searched my entire life
to redeem myself.

I am closer than ever before,

except when I almost had it cornered
with your father.

Go to hell!

Killing you would only relieve you
of your guilt.

Let's go.

You cannot leave!

Ishmael!

No! No! Queequeg!

Queequeg? No! No!

I'll kill you, old man!

From hell's heart, I stab thee!

Rachel?

In saving my life,
Queequeg redeemed himself with his gods.

Rachel was liberated from Ahab's hold,
from the vortex of guilt and revenge.

And as old Elijah foretold,

only one man lived to tell Ahab's tale.