Edited By Tameem666
ln the last century before the birth...
of the new faith called Christianity...
which was destined to overthrow the pagan tyranny of Rome...
and bring about a new society...
the Roman republic stood at the very centre of the civilized world.
''Of all things fairest, '' sang the poet...
''first among cities and home of the gods is golden Rome. ''
Yet even at the zenith of her pride and power...
the Republic lay fatally stricken with a disease called...
human slavery.
The age ofthe dictator was at hand...
waiting in the shadows for the event to bring it forth.
ln that same century...
in the conquered Greek province of Thrace...
an illiterate slave woman added to her master's wealth...
by giving birth to a son whom she named Spartacus.
A proud, rebellious son...
who was sold to living death in the mines of Libya...
before his thirteenth birthday.
There, under whip and chain and sun...
he lived out his youth and his young manhood...
dreaming the death of slavery...
2,000 years before it finally would die.
Back to work!
Get up, Spartacus, you Thracian dog!
Come on, get up!
My ankle, my ankle!
My ankle!
Spartacus again? This time he dies.
Back to work, all of you!
- Welcome, Lentulus Batiatus. - Welcome, indeed, my dear captain.
Eleven miles through the disastrous heat...
and the cost of hiring an escort-- ruinous.
Even so, I warrant you have nothing fit to sell me, have you, Captain?
I've wasted my time and my money. Tell me the truth.
I think we have a few you might be interested in.
What, these? Carrion! The buzzards are late.
This one here's not bad. He's a Gaul.
I don't like Gauls. Hairy.
-Can he come down from there unassisted? -Come down, you!
Come down!
Be good enough to show me the teeth.
- Open your mouth! - Thankyou.
Yes. As the teeth go, so go the bones.
This mouth is really impermissible.
- The fellow's made of chalk. - We have others. Many others!
The sun's over there. I have to pay these people.
Who's that?
This one's a Thracian. I'm making an example of him.
- How? - Starve him to death.
It's the only thing impresses slaves.
What a pity.
He reacts. Good muscle tone. Can I see his teeth?
Open your mouth, Spartacus!
You smell like a rhinoceros.
Captain, you asked him to open his mouth. He doesn't obey you?
His teeth are the best thing about him.
He hamstrung a guard with them not more than an hour ago.
Hamstrung? How marvellous! I wish I'd been here.
I'll take him. Let's look at some of the others.
Come along!
In spite of sickness and death, we will profit 1 1 ,000 sesterces!
Including your commission, of course.
No, sir. Without my commission.
Marcellus, there they are.
They're a dirty-looking lot, but it's the best I could find.
No one else could have made so fine a choice.
Slaves...
you have arrived at the gladiatorial school of Lentulus Batiatus.
Here you will be trained by experts to fight in pairs to the death.
Obviously, you won't be required to fight to the death here.
That will only be after you've been sold...
and then for ladies and gentlemen of quality...
those who appreciate a fine kill.
A gladiator's like a stallion: He must be pampered.
You'll be oiled, bathed...
shaved, massaged, taught to use your heads.
A good body with a dull brain is as cheap as life itself!
You'll be given your ceremonial caudas.
Marcellus, please. There.
Be proud of them.
On certain special occasions, those of you who please me...
will even be given the companionship of a young lady.
Approximately half our graduates...
live for five, ten-- ten years.
Some of them even attain freedom...
and become trainers themselves.
Marcellus.
I congratulate you. And may fortune smile on most of you.
Marcellus, watch the second from the right.
He's a Thracian. They were going to kill him for hamstringing a guard.
- We'll break him of that. - Don't overdo it. He has quality.
Next.
I like you.
I want you to be my friend.
I want to be your friend.
All I ask is that you get along with me.
What's your name, slave?
Spartacus.
I feel you don't like me.
Give him your sword.
Take it!
I have a feeling you want to kill me.
This is the only chance you'll ever get.
Kill me!
Don't be afraid, slave.
You have that sword.
I only have this piece of wood!
Are you going to disobey me?
Take his sword.
You're not as stupid as I thought.
You might even be intelligent.
That's dangerous for slaves.
You just remember...
from now on, everything you do, I'll be watching.
You did the right thing.
Every once in a while, Marcellus likes to kill a man as an example.
I think he's picked you. Better watch him.
- How long have you been here? - Six months.
I wish he'd pick me.
I want one chance at that pig before they carry me out!
Quiet! No talking down there.
You'll get us all in trouble, just like in the mines.
What's your name?
You don't want to know my name.
I don't want to know your name.
Just a friendly question.
Gladiators don't make friends.
If we're ever matched in the arena together...
I'll have to kill you.
Helena...
with Galino.
Patricia...
Crixus.
Priscilla...
David.
Claudia...
Pharox.
Varinia...
- Dionysius. - No, no. Spartacus.
Spartacus.
Felicia--
I've never had a woman.
You have one now, Spartacus. You must take her.
- Go away. - What will she think of you?
Indeed, what will I think of you?
Go away.
Come, come. Be generous. We must learn to share our pleasures.
I'm not an animal!
You're not trying to escape, by any chance?
Direct your courage to the girl, Spartacus.
I'm not an animal!
- I'm not an animal. - Neither am I.
What's your name?
Varinia.
You'll have to take her out of here, Marcellus.
You may not be an animal, Spartacus...
but this sorry show gives me very little hope...
that you'll ever be a man.
First rule:
You get an instant kill on the red.
Here. Here.
Always remember: Go for the red first...
because if you don't, your opponent will.
In the blue, you get a cripple.
Here, here...
here and here.
Second rule:
Go for the cripple before the slow kill.
Here's a slow kill on the yellow.
Here, here...
and here.
Remember...
A slow kill may have enough left in him to kill you before he dies.
With a cripple, you know you've got him...
if you keep your distance and wear him down.
The rest is all right for a public spectacle in Rome...
but here at Capua we expect more than simple butchery...
and we get it.
Spartacus, why are you looking at that girl?
Varinia! Stand still.
Since all he can do is look at girls...
all right, slave, go ahead and look.
I said look!
No. No, this one goes to the Spaniard.
Have a good night's rest, Spartacus.
In there.
Woman!
I've warned you about this kind ofthing.
All right, bring them in.
No talking! Move along there.
Did they hurt you?
No.
That's a kill.
One, two...
three, four, five.
One, two, three, four.
We have visitors. Tremendous visitors!
Two simply enormous Roman lords on the hill.
How easily impressed you are, Ramon.
Just 'cause they're Romans, I suppose they're enormous.
Tell them to wait for me when they arrive.
-Master, you don't understand! -How enormous do these Roman lords get?
One of them is Marcus Licinius Crassus.
What? Wait a minute.
Crassus here? Varinia, my red toga with the acorns.
And some chairs in the atrium. Second-best wine.
No, the best, but small goblets.
Gracchus! You know how Crassus loathes him.
Take him away.
- I can't lift it. - Use your imagination! Cover him.
Tell Marcellus to get the men ready.
Crassus has expensive taste. He'll want a show of some sort.
Forgive me, Gracchus.
Marcus Licinius Crassus...
most noble radiance...
first general of the Republic...
father and defender of Rome...
honour my house. Bless it with your presence.
Wine! Sweetmeats! Can't you see that Their Honours are exhausted?
Have the goodness to sit.
Is anything wrong, Your Nobility?
No.
Welcome to the Lady Claudia Maria...
former wife of Lucius Caius Marius...
whose recent execution touched us all so deeply.
Honour to the Lady Helena...
daughter of the late Septimus Optimus Glabrus...
whose fame shall live on forever in the person of his son...
your brother, Marcus Publius Glabrus...
hero of the Eastern Wars.
How very much he knows.
Allow me to bring you up to date.
We're here to celebrate the marriage of my brother to the Lady Claudia.
A mating of eagles, Your Sanctity!
Fan His Magnitude. He sweats.
My young friends desire a private showing of two pairs.
Two pairs. Oh, yes.
I think I have something that would please them.
- Two pairs to the death. - To the death, Your Ladyship?
Surely you don't think we came all the way to Capua for gymnastics?
But I beg Your Honours.
Here in Capua we train the finest gladiators in all Italy.
We can give you a display of swordsmanship...
which is better than anything you can see in Rome at any cost.
When they're sold, their new masters may do with them as they wish...
but here, no, we never fight them to the death.
Crassus.
Today is an exception.
But the ill feeling it would spread through the whole school.
And then the cost. The cost!
Name your price.
25,000 sesterces.
Arrange it.
Are you serious, sir?
Arrange it immediately.
Ofcourse, we shall want to choose them ourselves.
You do have a certain variety, don't you?
Yes. Inexhaustible.
Spartacus, there's going to be a fight to the death.
- To the death? - How do you know?
I heard Marcellus tell one of his guards.
- Who fights? - I don't know.
To the death.
What if they matched you and me?
They won't.
What if they did?
Would you fight?
I'd have to. So would you.
Would you try to kill me?
Yes, I'd kill.
I'd try to save--
I'd try to stay alive and so would you.
All gladiators up to the training area.
Some visitors want to admire you.
Form a line right here in front of me.
Would Your Excellencies care to make your selection now?
Claudia.
They're magnificent.
For you, Lady Helena...
may I suggest Praxus?
A veritable tiger.
I don't like him.
- I prefer that one. - Which one?
David?
Crixus, yes.
Marcellus, Crixus for the short sword.
Have you ever seen such a pair of shoulders? Dionysius!
I admit he's small, but he's very compact and extremely strong.
In fact, he looks--
He looks smaller here than he does in the actual arena.
Optical.
- Give me that one. - Galino.
Yes, yes. Galino.
You have a shrewd eye, Your Pulchritude, if I may permit myself the--
Practically every man in this school is an expert with a Thracian sword...
but the trident is something very rare these days.
May I suggest...
the Ethiopian?
There are very few Ethiopians in the country.
Ethiopians are recognized as masters of the trident.
I'll take him.
Draba? Oh, no. For you I want only the best--
I want the most beautiful.
I'll take the big black one.
Very good.
Only one man in the entire school...
stands a chance with the Thracian knife against the trident.
There.
- Over there, Lady Helena. - He's impertinent!
- I'll take him. - Impertinent, and a coward to boot.
Have him flogged!
Over there, Lady Helena. The beast of Libya.
I prefer the coward.
If both men are down and refuse to continue to fight...
your trainer will slit their throats like chickens.
- We want no tricks. - Tricks? At the school of Batiatus?
You heard the instruction, Marcellus? Remember it.
I feel so sorry for the poor things in all this heat.
Don't put them in those suffocating tunics.
Let them wearjust enough for modesty.
Whatever they wear, Lady, they'll bless your name.
Back, the rest of you!
- Our choosing has bored you? - No.
Most exciting. I tingle.
Do let's get out of the sun.
May I conduct Your Magnificences to the gallery now?
An eavesdropper. Oh, the god!
How far from Rome must I go to avoid that cunning face?
Crassus, don't talk about Gracchus. He's so hateful.
For Gracchus, hatred ofthe patrician class is a profession...
and not such a bad one, either.
How else can one become master of the mob...
and first senator of Rome?
Crassus, it's so boring.
I believe that girl smells of perfume.
Whatever it is, she smells most delectable.
You can't keep slaves from stealing these days unless you chain them.
When a slave's as pretty as she is, she doesn't have to steal.
An arrangement is made.
If her ankles are good...
you could be sure an arrangement was made!
- Master! - Good heavens, a catastrophe!
- I've been anointed! - You trollop!
- I believe you did that on purpose. - It was an accident. Come here, girl.
Don't be frightened.
- What country are you from? - Britannia.
How long have you been a slave?
Since I was thirteen.
You have a certain education.
My first master had me tutored for his children.
I like her. She has spirit.
- I'll buy her. - Buy her, Your Magnificence?
I have spent quite a lot of money on her.
Yes, I've no doubt of it. Two thousand sesterces.
Two thou-- She'll be waiting at your litter.
No, I don't want her feet spoilt by walking.
Send her to Rome with your steward the next time he has to go there.
He leaves tomorrow and the girl with him.
More wine. And thank your gods!
You provoke me, Crassus. I shan't be nice to you any more!
- Why distress me so much? - You're horribly rich.
Yet you're the only one of my brother's friends...
who hasn't given him a wedding present.
I was saving it for a more suitable moment.
Here. Give it to him, child.
What is it?
As from this moment, your husband is commander ofthe garrison of Rome.
Wonderful!
I don't know how I shall ever be able to repay you.
Time will solve that mystery.
- The garrison of Rome. - Yes.
The only power in Rome strong enough to checkmate Gracchus and his senate.
You are clever!
Open up.
Through that door.
But you will have to watch him, Claudia.
Father almost disinherited him because of slave girls.
The marriage contract absolutely forbids a harem.
What about your litter bearers?
After all, every one ofthem is under 20...
and taller than they should be.
She sets rather a high standard for you, does she ?
Your pleasure, Your Highness.
To you, my dear, shall go the honour of starting this poetic drama.
Open up!
First pair: Crixus and Galino!
Those who are about to die salute you.
Crixus.
Next pair!
Those who are about to die, salute you.
Your Thracian's doing well.
How were you able to get my appointment without Gracchus knowing?
I fought fire with oil. I purchased the senate behind his back.
I still think the trident's going to win.
- Why doesn't he kill him? - Kill him.
What's the matter now?
- Kill him! - Kill him, you imbecile!
He'll hang there till he rots.
Take a last look, Spartacus.
She's going to Rome. She's been sold.
She's been sold?
No talking in the kitchen, slave.
There's trouble in the mess hall. They killed Marcellus and maybe others.
Call out the guard!
Move, move!
On second thoughts, I'll deliver the girl personally.
Ride to Capua. Call out the garrison. I don't trust this lot.
- I hold you responsible. - Yes, sir.