All language subtitles for Highlander s05e17 The Modern Prometheus.eng

Step by step

Old enough to realize

That there's no

Destiny

No, there's no

Destiny

No, there's no

Byron! Byron!
Byron! Byron!

Did you get my tape?

I'm Jerry! Jerry Jeremy!

"In the confusion, Love
a man, not an illusion"

"I could never be
all that you dream."

You listened to it.

Come on, Jerry.
Let's go for a ride.

This is for real!

As real as it gets.

And when it's up, you die

And when it's up, you die

And when it's up, you die
And when it's up, you die

And when it's up, you die

Come on, Jerry!

Spit out the fear
and taste the glory!

Just one more step.

Help!

Feel it, Jerry!
Revel in it!

This is to be mortal and to
seek the things beyond mortality!

The world is
watching, Jerry.

Can you fly?

Sure.

Can we talk
about the music?

Are you ready?

First we jump-- then we lay down some
tracks. You and me, Damon and Pythias.

Batman and Robin.

All you need to do is
soar, Jerry, like an eagle.

If you're not living,
you're dying, Jerry!

Jerry! Jerry!
Jerry! I'm cool.

Good.

Jerry! Jerry!
Jerry! Jerry!

- Batman and Robin.
- No guts, no glory.

Geronimo!

That...

was a very good try.

He is Duncan MacLeod,

the Highlander.

Born in 1592, in the
Highlands of Scotland,

and he is still alive.

He is immortal.

For 400 years,
he's been a warrior,

a lover,

a wanderer,

constantly facing other
Immortals in combat to the death.

The winner takes
his enemy's head...

and with it, his power.

I am a Watcher,

part of a secret society
of men and women...

who observe and record,
but never interfere.

We know the truth
about Immortals.

In the end, there
can be only one.

May it be Duncan
MacLeod, the Highlander.

Here we are

Born to be kings

We're the princes
of the universe

I am immortal

I have inside
me blood of kings

I have no rival

No man can be my equal

Take me to the
future of your world

We're late, you guys.

This kid's great. We
picked him up in London.

Came to every
show, every night.

Well, well.
Look who's here.

Good to see you,
man. All right.

- Byron?
-TheByron?

Hey, Doc. Hey.

- It's been a long time.
- You've become kind of famous again.

Yeah, I, uh, just
can't seem to shake it.

Uh, Duncan
MacLeod, Joe Dawson.

Any friend of Doc's.

-That kid's not bad. Who is he?
-That's Mike.

He's from London.

- You were great, Mike.
- It's a rush.

It was beautiful,
man. Thanks, Joe.

Great chops, kid.

I'm sorry. Hold
on a minute.

You're who I think
you are, aren't you?

I've got every CD.
Imports, everything.

Man, I've been a
fan of yours forever.

You mean to tell me you knew him
all this time and you never told me?

Yeah, "Doc."

It seems the good doctor grows
weary of our entertainments.

As spectator, surely.
As participant, never.

Dr. Adams, your
effrontery shocks me.

You aren't
shocked, are you?

You would be if you saw him at
his labors, cutting up corpses,

up to his elbows in rotting
flesh and maggoty entrails.

There are some questions about
life that only the dead can answer.

Only the dead and poets.

Well, then I shall have my
answers when the Shelleys arrive.

Or rather,
Percy Shelley...

and that woman Mary
he calls wife...

that he seems so
interested in seducing.

Oh, look, Byron!
What do we have here?

Byron, sit down.

This band which, bound by yellow
hair, is thine, sweet girl,

thy pledge of love.

It claims my
warmest, dearest care,

like relics left
of saints above.

Oh, I caught it!

Oh, I
don't know--

I'll cherish it forever.

You know him?

Hans Kershner. He thinks
I slept with his wife.

Did you?

Of course. Hold on.

- Haah!
-Hyah! Hold it there, you scoundrel!

Hyah! Come on!

You can't get away!
You can't escape!

Come on! Go on!

Hyah! Giddap!

Next time, send your wife!

Am I as dangerous as
my reputation, Doctor?

You are mad, sir. Are you
trying to get us killed?

You speak of death, yet note
how quickly your heart beats.

You seem more alive
than ever, sir!

"So to the last,

"and in the verge
of our decay,

"some phantom lures such
as we sought at first,

"but all too late, so
are we doubly cursed.

"Love, fame, ambition,
avarice, 'tis the same.

"Each idle and all
ill and none the worst,

"for all are meteors
with a different name,

"and death the
sable smoke...

who vanishes
in the flame."

Bravo!

It's all drivel!

My God, I bore
even myself!

I thought it was wonderful, Lord Byron.
You are too critical of your poetry.

And for the evening's
entertainment.

It'll take more than Morpheus'
smoke to quiet me today, Shelley.

I trust you had a pleasant
journey this afternoon, sir.

Only if one enjoys dancing near
the halls of death, Mrs. Shelley.

I love to dance.

What have you to quiet
a troubled soul, Doctor?

The mind has been
wounded in life's battles.

You cannot wound a spirit.

How ridiculous, Lord Byron. Shall
we test your theory, my little nymph?

Shall I kill
you here and now?

- Lord Byron, no.
- I think you've taken this jest far enough.

Shall I watch your spirit rise up
before me and pluck it from the air?

I
only--

Shelley, the laudanum.

Next time preserve your ignorance
for one more deserving than I.

Is there no relief to
this eternal boredom?

We need better diversions.

What exactly did
you have in mind?

New stories.

I say we call forth the
armies of the night...

and do them battle,
soul to soul,

till they, or we,
cry, "Hold, enough"...

and give over the field.

Sounds thrilling.

Sounds morbid.

Stories of horror...

to bring forth
our own ghosts...

from deep within us,

from those dead humors rattling
around the midnight of our souls.

Yes, but who
shall be first...

to amuse and
frighten us tonight?

The quiet Mrs.
Shelley, perhaps?

You mock me, sir,

yet I have felt death.

I've held it to my arms.

I hope never to
feel the like again.

Yes, but feel it you did.

In tasting grief,
in tasting fear,

is that not the
time we truly live?

And so, fair muse,

what ghosts have
you to share tonight?

I am-- I am afraid my
imagination fails me at present.

Ah, but look, dear lady.

Your neighbor greedily gulps
the nectar of creativity itself.

Drink the
laudanum, my love.

Drink.

To stimulate your
imagination, my dear.

-What melodrama is this?
-Your wife has had enough, sir.

Take care of
her, good Doctor.

Into your hands I
commend her spirit.

Clara?

My baby Clara.

I dreamt she
came back to life.

She had a beak for a mouth.
And I was in the forest.

There was a man-- a monster, a
beast. I couldn't tell what it was.

those who
die, or--

or those who live.

Perhaps, dear Mary,

death is not truly
journey's end,

but just another
turn in the road.

If we believe that,

we can live without fear.

Bravo.

Bravo.

Be still!

Still.

So still.

Almost like...

death.

Yet look, she stirs.

Is she not... beautiful?

That she is.
Now let her rest.

Ah, but does
she want to rest?

I say we take her...

and push the bounds of our
passion to heaven itself.

And I say we leave before we
push the bounds of decency.

Decency means nothing.

All that matters
is this moment--

the three of us
here in this room.

Look at her.

Feel the hunger.

What is the point of living if we
don't taste what life has to offer us?

Come on!

Enough.

I said, enough!

How dare you!

This is my home, my life. I
will do with it as I choose.

Unless, of course,
you choose to stop me.

Put it away and let her be. I would
rather have your poetry than your head.

Very well.

As a favor to you.

Man, that was amazing.

It's like Jimi Hendrix was in my
head, and I was just playing along.

You wanna open for us tomorrow
night? Maurice says it's okay.

Of course, man. I'll do whatever
it takes. You already did.

So come by in the morning.
We'll run a couple of tunes--

Hey, Mike, you
wanna come jam?

Serious? I'm
only asking once.

Yeah, sure. I'll see
you in the morning.

I'll be there, man. I can't
believe this is happening to me.

Take it easy. Don't get
crazy. Now or never, Mikey!

Okay. Yeah,
uh-- I gotta go.

He's an arrogant
son of a bitch.

A lot of geniuses are.

He's connected. He could make that
kid's career with one phone call.

Yeah. He's in
the big time now.

How do you feel?

I'm too scared to
think. Of course you are!

You're scared to death!

Suck it in, man!
Savor the fear!

Jump!

You can do this.

Look deep. Let it fly.

That's it!

Life, death, fear!

Hang on, Mike!

Now you're alive.

Now we play.

Bravo.

- You're the man.
-Come play with me, Mikey.

- You really think so?
- I said so, didn't I?

Didn't I say so?

Oh, yeah.

So, uh, you're gonna run by the studio
tomorrow and lay down a few tracks,

meet some people?

You know it, man.

Nightcap, anyone?

No, I'm okay.

I gotta get goin'.

That's cool. -Mikey!

So, what time tomorrow?

Actually, tomorrow's
a little busy.

So maybe I'll get my manager to send by a
couple tickets for tomorrow night's show.

Oh, Mikey, stay and play.

Please? Can't
you play with me?

You don't know
what you're missing.

Come on, baby.

What's the story?

You're the man.

Hey. You're late, brother.

Sorry.

You know, you don't wanna
do this, we don't have to.

No, no, I'm
ready. Take a look.

Come on, tune it up.

Okay?

-You with us?
- Yeah.

All right. Let's
give it a whirl.

Two, one, two, three.

- What?

Why don't you get a little
sleep? We'll try this later.

Tough night?

No-- Uh,
uh, yeah.

Yeah, it was hot. Byron thought
I was great. I was flyin'.

It looks like
you still are.

Hey, uh, he give you a little
something to help you fly?

What are you
trying to say?

Look, maybe this is
none of my business--

We're talking
about Byron here.

You should be happy for me,
not bitchin' at me. All right?

I'm out of here.

Take five, guys.

Boy, oh, boy, I
sure screwed that up.

Somebody did.

I'm gonna talk to Byron.

Wait. I'll go with you.

Worried about the
kid, huh? Yeah.

He's in a tough spot.

To make great music...

you have to
experience life.

The good and the
bad, huh? Hallelujah.

Sometimes the man is not
as strong as the music.

Life, my friend,
is in the details.

I like almonds. Not
cashews, almonds.

Shelled,
roasted, unsalted.

And fed to me by women-- tall,
beautiful women with long, black hair.

I know you want
to make me happy.

Afternoon, boys.

Still lacerating the help, I
see. It's good being the star.

You and Mike had quite
a session last night.

Yeah. Kid's
got a good shot.

That's why we're here.

Gotta rev the engine,
or you're just idling.

Don't understand how you
guys can live without it.

Just fine, thanks. So did
Mike, until last night.

Oh, that's better.

Immortality gets
pretty damned dull...

after the first couple
of centuries, doesn't it?

What's the secret, Doc?

What do you do when there's nothing
left but the dark, cold emptiness...

that stretches out for
centuries behind you...

and when you look in the
mirror all that you see...

is the abomination
that you are?

The sun will set...

and oppose the enemy.

Shall we?

I confess,

I'm afraid to go in.

It's just his way of
being entertaining.

They're only
ghost stories.

Told by master wordsmiths.

Lord Byron's words
will live forever.

What have I to offer
in such company?

Your heart.

Your dreams.

Your nightmares.

Is that where you
found your story?

Pray, tell me.

Not now.

Come.

Let us show Byron and Shelley that they do
not have the only creative minds of the day.

We'd almost despaired
of your company.

Hark, Percy.

The good doctor is in
love with your Mary.

What do you say to that?

I say run, and
fleet be thy feet.

Fly from love,

that horned beast
that impales all men.

It seems my
destiny awaits.

With your permission, my
friends, I take my leave.

Jealous husband? Uh-huh.

Hans, my good friend.

Come in, man, and warm
thy sodden self by my fire.

That is for my wife.

This is for me.
Defend yourself.

Alas, my good man, I am
but a poet, not a warrior.

What you are is a
cuckolding cripple.

You are not ready
for this. Give way.

Try me, and you shall
see a poet's mettle.

Think, man, who
you would kill.

Would you be Lord
Byron's murderer?

You shall be Lord
Byron's first conquest.

Well, then, try me, boy.

Come on.

He lives! Yet--
Yet I thought--

It was a trick
of the storm.

I'm not Claire. Do not
speak to me like a fool.

I've seen him die
and live again,

while my daughter Clara
lies buried in her grave.

How can he live while my
flesh and blood turns to dust?

Explain. There
is no explanation.

He is not governed by the rules of
mortal flesh. He is of a different kind.

How do you know this?

How can you know it?

Because I
am like him--

immortal.

I beseech you.
Tell no one.

We must live in secret.

Or you would be hunted.

For the perversion
of nature that we are.

Poor, tormented creature.

The sad hero of a
never-ending story,

resurrected by lightning
to eternal life...

and eternal loneliness.

An interesting bit of
entertainment this was, I'll wager.

Come.

There's a fire inside and stories
to tell... if you have one.

I do.

Mine will be about the
anguish of immortality.

What will you call your
story, Mary Shelley?

A man born of fire.

"Light, feeling and
sense will pass away,

and in this condition
must I find my happiness."

Frankenstein, gentlemen.

Mary Shelley's
greatest work.

The point is that we are
all Frankenstein's monster,

doomed to walk the frozen
tundra for eternity.

Or the streets of Paris,
as the case may be.

But at least this gives
us the illusion of life.

If you think that's what life is
all about, then you're already dead.

- So speaks the hero.
- You listen to me.

This is no illusion,
no poetic fantasy.

This is real, and
it's a warning.

Leave the kid alone.

Your friend's a mess.

He's a genius.

He's pathetic. It's very
easy to think that way.

Did you ever starve
to death, MacLeod?

Byron feels hunger
like that every day.

Twenty thousand people
screaming his name,

it's not enough to fill
the hole inside him.

He always wants more.
He alwaysneedsmore.

- You should try it sometime.
- Yeah, well, I know what it's like to be empty.

It's no excuse.

"She walks in beauty, like the night
of cloudless climes and starry skies."

"And all that's best of dark and
bright meet in the aspect of her eyes."

Yes, I know the poem.

How do you think like that,
how do you write like that...

and not be a little...
larger than life?

Charlie Parker, van Gogh,
Mozart-- messed-up guys.

Yeah, da Vinci,
Bach-- normal guys.

And still great artists.

Yeah, and Byron is
also a great artist.

He's given the
world great poetry.

But at what price?

Come on, old man!

Come and get me!

Are you still there?

Missed me!

That's the difference
between you and me, kid.

I embrace life,
and you run from it!

Daddy doesn't want you
playing in my sandbox!

I didn't tell them
to come. I swear.

Details, kid!

They just don't get it. Well,
of course they don't get it!

They never will, because they're
dead and they don't even know it.

The world is full of small
men with small dreams.

What do you want, Mike?

Are you ready to grab onto
life with both hands...

and squeeze it till
it screams for mercy?

I'm ready.

I don't think so.

You wanna play in the big
time, you gotta be a big boy.

Go home, kid.

I said go home!

Come on!

What are you waiting for?

- Hey. Thanks for nothing, guys.
- What's the problem?

Did I ask you to mind my
business? Stay out of my life.

If he wants to play in little clubs
like this the rest of his life, fine.

- I'm not. All right?
- Hey, Mike!

Mike! You think Byron
gives a damn about you?

You think he cares whether
you live or die? He's my shot.

Yeah, maybe.

Hey, Mike. You're still opening
for us in a couple of hours.

All right?

Keep your mouth shut

I'm hooked

I'm hooked

I can't turn you off

So...

Mummy say you could
come out and play?

I don't need
anybody's permission.

By George, I
think he's got it.

Let's celebrate.

Name your poison.

Now, Mike,

I hope you're not going
to let me down again.

Mike never show up?

No.

I should have figured.

I mean, who would choose
my life over Byron's?

You would.

Yeah, but he wouldn't be in
this spot if it wasn't for me.

Don't hold yourself responsible
for him. Hey, you would.

I'll see you later.

Damn him.

Damn him!

Byron! Byron! Byron!

Hey, Doc.

It's gonna be a
killer show tonight.

I'm not here for the show.

Well, the party doesn't start till
later, but, hey, make yourself at home.

Leave town. Say what?

MacLeod's gonna
be coming here.

I'm telling you
as an old friend...

that it would be a good time to
go on tour... in another country.

And disappoint my fans?

I told you. I've
got a show to do.

Used to be more
than a show.

There was a time when you
were reaching for the heavens.

There is no heaven. It's just an
illusion for fools and innocents.

I have no hope, no dreams,

no poetry left.

All I feel is
this raging hunger.

And all I hear is my own
voice screaming my failure.

You know what I've become.

Yes, I know.

But you know
who you are, Doc?

You're the guy in the audience, and
I'm the guy on the flying trapeze.

Who do you think's
having more fun?

Who do you think's gonna
live longest? Who cares?

I do.

Do you want a tombstone that
says, "He lived for centuries,"

or do you want one that says,
"For centuries he was alive"?

You're not listening to me.
I don't want a tombstone.

You hear that?

They're playing my song.

Paladino's dead. I know.

Byron didn't force
him to do anything.

That's a lot of crap.
Mike's dead because of Byron.

No, Mike is dead because of Mike.
- Move it, buddy!

Comin' through, bud.

The kid idolized him.

Maybe he didn't
pull the trigger,

but he sure put
the gun in his hand.

"To live like me, you have to be
like me"? Mike couldn't do that.

He wasn't immortal. Which
is not Byron's fault.

Mac. Mac, wait!

Think-- Think-- Think
about the poetry.

Think about the music that he's
made, that he will still make.

You gonna kill
all that as well?

And what about Mike?

What music could
he have made?

Want me to take
care of him?

Leave me. Go on.

All right, let's get outta
here. Give him some room.

Come on.

Let me guess.

You want an autograph.

You hear that?

They love me.

Doesn't help,
though, does it?

Tell me, is there anything
you despise more than yourself?

Byron! Byron!
Byron! Byron!

Well, guess you
won't be needing this.

Makes us even.

No.

Now we're even.

"Foil'd, bleeding,
breathless,

"furious to the last,

"full in the center
stands the bull at bay!

Byron! Byron!
Byron! Byron! Byron!

"Mid wounds, and clinging
darts, and lances brast,

"and foes disabled
in the brutal fray.

"And now the matadors
around him play,

"shake the red cloak and
poise the ready brand.

"Once more through all he
burst his thundering way--

Vain rage!"

"The mantle quits
the conynge hand,

"wraps his fierce
eye-- 'tis past--

he sinks upon the sand."

You're the one that was

You're the one that is

You're the one that always

Will be

No one mortal is able

To lift your veil

I can see your
light in the distance

I can see you shine
in the distance

Isis, mighty mother

I can feel your presence

I know you're with me

I know you're with me

I know, I know, I know, I
kno I know, I know, I know

You're with me

Dead, but undead I'll be

Osiris is my name

And our love

And our love

I can see the light
in the distance

And our love I can see
you shine in the distance

And our love

And our love

Conquers all

I can see your
light in the distance

I can see you shine
in the distance

I can see your
light in the distance

I can see you shine
in the distance

Matter and antimatter.

Byron knew that too.

His life had become
one long tragedy.

We all know how those end.

"My task is done.

"My song has ceased.

"My theme has
died into an echo.

It is fit."

And here we are

We're the princes
of the universe

Here we belong
fighting for survival

We've come to be the
rulers of your world

I am immortal

I have inside me
blood of kings Yeah!

I have no rival

No man can be my equal

Take me to the
future of your world

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