All language subtitles for The Spoils of Babylon s01e06 So Sweet the Bells.eng

Well,
we've reached the end--

the final episode
of The Spoils of Babylon.

It took me three years
to complete filming on Spoils.

It was an emotionally
draining experience.

By this time in production,
my wife, Lauoreighiya Samcake,

who plays Cynthia,
was no longer my wife.

Dirk Snowfield,
who played Devon,

had converted to buddhism.

And Marty Comanche was nearly
unreachable without medication.

But here it is.
The great opera of two lives

lived in fear of their desire
comes to a close.

One more interesting tidbit.

It's not often that I don
the clothes of the thespian

and parade upon the board,
so to speak.

The bard usually doth not goeth
upon his own stage,

if you will,
but the cast and crew insisted.

Tonight, you will see me
in the role of the Shah of Iran.

It's but a trifle,
but is it not the trifles

that give one's lives
greatest pleasures?

I hope it adds
to your pleasure.

Without any more ado,

enjoy the grand finale
of The Spoils of Babylon.

Previously
on The Spoils of Babylon...

My name is Devon Morehouse.
My story is an epic one.

Look, father,
there's someone walking.

From now on,
your last name is Morehouse.

It's been so long
since you kissed me.

Don't you wanna?

Devon, we struck oil!

I want to introduce you
to Lady Anne York.

What are you doing
with that fire?

(screams)

I saved the child.

I kicked heroin.
I can't kick you.

I'm dying, Devon.
Mama!

Noooo!

I want you to guide
this company going forward.

She's gonna shut us down.

I hate Devon Morehouse.

He is your father.

You tell your Shah that he
shall have his nuclear bomb.

This is my life.
Or all that remains of it.

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"Dearest Devon,
despite all our best efforts,

"it looks like
our company's going--

"it looks like our company
is going under.

"I've lied to the board

"and told them Winston
made a deal with the Arabs,

"but he has not.

"We will not survive
the gas crunch

"without a supply of oil.

"Morehouse Oil, our company,

"the company our father built,
is dying."

"I miss you.
I know the conditions we set.

"I know we are never
to see each other

"in this lifetime again,

"but I miss you,
and I need you.

"For eight years,
we've kept this charade."

"You running Research
and Development,

"and me running the business.

"When will it end?

"I must see you.

"At the very least,
think of our company.

"Love forever.

"Cynthia."

(seagulls squawking)

(dramatic, sweeping music)

Dad.

You have tears in your eyes.

There's a kind of sadness in you
that never goes away.

No, not--
not with you around.

You bring joy to me.

I don't know what I would do
without you.

(waves crashing loudly)
You are my light.

Should that light extinguish,
I too should fade.

I love you, dad.

I love you too.

Where have you been?

Oh, why don't you cool it
with the mother routine

while I shake up
an eye-opener?

I've been expecting you
for days.

Oh, boo-hoo.

If you want
to know so badly,

I was saving
Morehouse Conglomerate.

How?

Pleasure boating
with the Shah of Iran

and some centerfolds flown over
by Flooze Magazine.

Reza, the Shah?
He's got no pull with OPEC.

- He has no power.
- He will soon.

He'll soon have
all the power he needs.

I asked you to make a deal
with the Arabs,

And instead--
instead you're pleasure boating

around the Mediterranean
with the wrong man

and some floozies
from Snooze Magazine?

So dramatic, mother.

My little boat ride
will save this company.

(melodramatic music playing)

Mm.
And it was some snoozies

from Flooze Magazine, mother.

- What did you do?
- Now, now.

It's all a big surprise,
isn't it?

Oh, by the by,

have we invited the Shah
to our annual event yet?

Well, yes, of course.

I just sent his invitation
via telegram.

He's not going to show up.
He never has before.

Oh, he'll show, all right.

Mark my words,
he'll be here.

Winston, try to understand.

I couldn't tell you
that your uncle was your father.

Means nothing to me now.

It was wrong,
and I know that now.

You listen to me.

When I am done rescuing
this company,

which you and "my father"--

I mean,
"my father" almost ruined,

I'm kicking you out
on your bony ass.

You're done here.

And as for my father,
I have much bigger plans.

Much, much, much,

much,
much bigger plans.

Hah hah hah hah hah!

(chortling)

Cynthia Morehouse
and I had an agreement.

I would work for the company,

And she would not interfere
with my work.

After her last letter,

I began to muse if she could
hold to the bargain.

I began to muse
if I could hold to the bargain.

And then...

One day,
a lone figure appeared.

(sentimental music)

Well, hello there, stranger.

Am I such a stranger?

Perhaps not in my heart.

My heart
is home to you as well.

That scent.
Parisien Noir?

You remembered.

One doesn't forget desire.

Parisian desire.

Come. I have a blanket
and some little snacks

and a jug of day sweet
brand wine over there.

Come.

Are you going to tell me
why you traveled all this way,

or would you like
a little Burgundy red wine

to work up your courage?

Burgundy red wine?
I'd love some.

Devon, I'm scared.

What is it?

It's Winston.

I believe he wants to hurt you
in some way.

(grunts)
More?

Yes, please.

Now...

Tell me about the boy
Winston.

(sighs)
It's complicated.

He's gone mad,
and I'm really afraid.

Do you remember that night
in San Francisco?

- Like it was yesterday.
- Well...

He is your--

You're his--

He's our s--

I'm just afraid
he's gonna hurt you, that's all.

Oh, I'm so touched.

I didn't know
you cared so deeply.

Devon, I've never stopped
loving you.

Is it too late?

- Cynthia.
- Devon.

(sweeping evocative music)

With Marianne,
and now with you,

I have everything
I've always wanted.

How is she?

She's my angel,
my guiding light.

(guitar ballad)

(guitar ballad continues)

(ballad end chords)

It's a hard thing, putting you
in the ground, Marianne.

It is I who should be asleep
under all this...

black ground,

Not you.

For it was I
that set in motion

the curse on nature
that damned us all.

To deny the very thing
that breathes life into our--

into our hearts,
is to deny all mankind.

The possibility of love.

My own cowardice
in the face of true love

has brought you
to this ignoble conclusion.

I cannot bear it!

How can your heart be still

while the Earth continues
its rotation?

What cruel force spins us 'round
on this day

when all should stop to join
in your...

stillness?

Cannot the Earth forestall

its diurnal course
but for a while,

so that we can all share
your eternal sleep?

Oh, that I could make it
sooooo!

Like Prometheus,
I would be chained for eternity

to the coldest rock

while eagles tear at my flesh
in exchange

for just one more
breath of air

from your sweet...

innocent lips.

(laughs)
Oh, shoot, Marianne.

I don't know what to say.
I never been much for words.

It just don't seem fair,
you down there and me up here.

It just ain't fair.

(sighs)

I thought
I would find you here.

Cynthia.

Oh!

Oh, you tried to warn me.
You did!

It was Winston, wasn't it?

Please, Devon,
he is but a boy.

A boy.

A boy, a man, a-- a child,
an infant, a fetus, a girl,

an eagle, a vegetable.

What does it matter?

There is a clear difference
between right and wrong!

Am I right, Cynthia?

Oh, it seems we don't have
anything to say to each other.

What about the beach?

Did that mean nothing to you?

It meant everything.

I love you, Cynthia.

I will always love you.

But this will not stand.

No.

This will not staaaand!

Devon, please, come back.

(tearful)
Devon!

Devon.

(annoyed)
Devon!

Devon!

(screaming)
Devon!

(screaming)
Devon!

(soft jazz music,
overlapping chatter)

Welcome, everyone.

Oh, I'm so happy
that you're here.

Welcome to the annual
Morehouse Gala for the Arts.

So happy you could
be here tonight.

Enjoy all of the-- the ham.

And, um,
has anyone seen Winston?

Gentlemen, I wish to thank you
for crossing an ocean

and coming to the American
continent to meet with me,

face to face,
in this very room.

My dear boy,

I hope you have brought
the appropriate documents.

It is my humble pleasure
to serve His Majesty,

the Shah of Iran.

Please, we can drop
the formalities.

I've been a friend
of the family for years.

Call me Reza.

Of course. Reza.
I have the documents right here.

All of the documents?

Everything you will need

to construct
your own nuclear bomb.

Can my scientists
look them over?

I trust you will find
everything in order.

When it is determined
that we do indeed

have nuclear capabilities,

I will hand over the code
to a bank account in Geneva.

- Congratulations.
- For what?

Mother, please.
This-- this doesn't concern you.

You seem to be doing a deal

with one
of my old friends, Reza.

How does this
not concern me?

These documents are perfect.

Documents?
What documents?

Mother, leave us!

Winston,
Devon is coming tonight.

Wonderful.
Show your brother a great time.

It's a party, isn't it?

He's coming to kill you.

He thinks you had something
to do with Marianne's death.

(laughs)
Perhaps I did.

That little tart should stay out
of back alleys.

Now please, mother,
the Shah and I have business.

This is true.

Not so fast, hotshot.

Your business is with me.

(gasps)

Hello, Reza.

Mr. Devon Morehouse.

I have not seen you
since Monte Carlo.

Well,
those were luxurious days

and thrilling nights.

We had great fun.

I shall always remember...
Monte... Carrrlo.

As shall I, Your Eminence.

Devon, no, you can't.

The boy must die.

The boy is your son.

What?

- How?
- I meant to tell you.

It was that night
in San Francisco.

(laughs)

The night we made love.

You made love
to your own sister!

(gasps)

But why--
why wouldn't you tell me?

We would have lost everything.
It was in father's will.

My own son...

killed my own daughter.

- What Greek tragedy is this?
- No, no, stop.

Please, let this go.
Leave him.

You and I can run away together
and-- and never look back.

But he killed Marianne.

Too late, daddy.

No!

No!

(grunts)

Cynthia.

You never loved me.

Cynthia!

I love you.

My legacy.

No!

Devon, the--
the blood is leaving me.

No, no, Cynthia, no.

It's not your fault.

Stop.
Don't die on me.

I love you.
I always have.

I've loved you
since the first time I saw you.

I-- I killed Lady Anne.

I burnt her to the ground.
I burned her face.

Shh-shh-shh.
You save your strength.

I also killed Seymore Luntz,
the man with the carburetor

that you and father thought
would change the world.

Speak not of carburetors
and fires.

And... Dixie Melonworth.

I had Winston kill her too.

Love has no morals.

You did what you thought
was best.

Keep-- keep talking.
I want to hear your voice.

I want your voice to be
the last thing I hear before--

Uh... Uh... Uhh....

Cynthia, no.

Why?

Why do men always have to deny

the love that was meant
for them?

I have loved you and lusted
after you my whole life,

and yet
something deep within me

has pulled me away from you.

(sweeping orchestration)

Run. Run.

Tell your story.

Get it on magnetic audio tape,
so the world will know.

And there you have it,
the whole story.

Tomorrow's papers will read,

"Double murder
at Morehouse mansion."

But it wasn't murder.

It was suicide.

Two souls,
dead at the altar of denial.

(melancholy instrumentals)

That's...

my...

story.

("No Not Much" plays)

(regal music)

(groans)

When the wine runs out,
it's time to go.

That's the rule.

That's the rule
as old as the hills.

Is there any more wine?

I need help out of the booth.

Doris?
Is Doris...

Doris, come here.

I just want to say
one thing to you.

I'd like to have you
for my collection,

my menagerie, if you will.

Doris.

(snorting)

Oh, God!

Finger foods,
they always do you in.

Doris.

I won't stop searching
till I find you, Doris.

You can't escape the bear hugs
of Eric Jonrosh.

Where's my siren Doris?

(groans)

God, I'm definitely
going to be sick.

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