All language subtitles for T.S.G.M.S01E01.WEB.H264-RBB

Shh.

Where are we?

How should I know?

I don't like it.

You should learn
not to bark!

You shouldn't rob the dead!
You take coins from their mouths.

I didn't take coins,
I exchanged them for valuables.

That's terrible. The gods notice,
you insult people--

you bite people.

I'm a dog. It's my
business to bite people.

Athenian pig!

That's you!

Do you know
where you are?

Look around.
Are there bones at your feet?

Ask them about
that monster.

Ask them
how to get out!

We shouldn't have ever
come to Crete.

I've never liked islands.
You get stuck on them.

The labyrinth.

This must be
the labyrinth of knossos.

Nobody's been here
for centuries.

This was
the Minotaur's prison.

1,000 Athenians died
in these passages.

1,000!

That's a nice, round number.
Let's leave it at that.

Minotaur must have
charged that way.

Trampled that very path.

The Minotaur-- when you
say charged, do you mean--

what do you mean?

Charged, charged.

Half man, half bull.
Mad with hunger and sadness.

Until a hero came with a
bold heart and a bright sword.

10 centuries ago,
a creature was born.

Child of
a terrible passion.

Son of a queen,
son of a bull.

A creature so monstrous,

Minos, King of Crete, had
this maze built to hide him.

Every 7 years,

there was a blood tribute
paid to Crete.

Every 7 years,

a black-sailed ship
came from Athens.

7 youths in their prime,

7 pure maidens were taken
as sacrifice,

brought here to the labyrinth,

where every passage
is a promise broken.

Every way out is a way in.

And where the Minotaur's
savage appetite for human flesh

could be dealt with
in the dark.

But there was one person
who came and went at will

in the beast's domain:

Ariadne,
daughter of Minos, the king.

Every day
she visited the creature,

cared for it, pitied it

down in the dark,
shut away with its secrets.

Shh.

It's me. I'm here.

Come close.

Come here.

She knew the heart was human,
no matter what the face.

Come close.

No matter what she saw.

No matter what she heard.

The cries of the victims,

the pitiful cries,

awful.

Awful.

Many leagues
away from Crete,

a bull
was being sacrificed,

watched by a mother
and her son Theseus.

She had never told him
who his father was,

bound by a promise
made 17 years before.

Now Theseus was growing up,

and she knew that soon
he would leave her.

Just as his father
had done before him.

Why do you weep?
At the bull's death?

No. No.

Then what?

I was thinking
of the pine forest.

Of a rock,

and the high ground,
and the forest.

When you can move the rock,

you will find out
who your father is.

I cannot!

Then wait one summer.

Why are you happy?

Because when you
can move the rock,

you will leave me.

Never. I promise.

But Theseus couldn't wait
another summer.

He was there,
morning after morning,

straining at the rock,
tearing his muscles.

Until one day,

the dawn still damp
in his hair,

he felt the rock give.

Then, with one last effort,

he heaved it away.

Mother,

was my father
a great warrior?

Your father is a king.

Your father is Aegeus,
king of Athens.

Theseus heard the story
of his birth,

and vowed to go to Athens

and make himself known
to his father.

I will come back.
I promise.

Go to Athens by sea.

Don't risk
the coast road.

Danger will find you
soon enough.

Did he go by sea?

No. He went by
the coast road,

plagued by robbers,
giants, bandits.

And on the long journey,
he slew procrustes,

sciron the kicker,
sinis the pine bender,

until at last he came to
the great fortress of Athens

rising up from the sea.

But with the dust of the
journey still on his skin,

he sought audience
with Aegeus, his father.

It was 17 years since Aegeus
had left Theseus' mother.

Now his beard was gray.

And another woman
was by his side:

Medea.

I thank you, lord,
for greeting a stranger.

Word of your great adventures
reaches the king.

Slayer of giants, we hear.
Scourge of bandits.

I wished the road between my
home and Athens safe for travelers.

Where is that home?

Troezen in the west.

Troezen?

My lord is trusting.

I tell him, as his priestess,
as mother to his sons,

be wary of those who arrive
with blood on their hands.

I seek purification
from the king.

Of course you do.

What is your name,
warrior?

Theseus, lord.

Your lineage?

Some say my father
is of the sea.

Some say he is a great king.

The king is insulted by riddles.
Does he have your allegiance?

I would give
my life for him.

I would take life from all
who are his enemies.

The king invites you to
feast with him this evening.

First, with his blessing,
go to the River Cephissus

and be purified.

Then you are welcome
in Athens.

I don't like her.
She's a witch.

She was a witch.
She was also a mother.

And she knew Theseus.

She knew nothing
would stand in his way.

Not love, not fear,

not a promise.

Theseus went to the River
Cephissus and washed himself

in readiness for the feast.

Medea, wanting the kingdom
for her own sons,

also made preparation,

mixing secret herbs
and poisonous spices.

Welcome, hero.

My lady, my lord.

Your sword.

Forgive me, lord.
I wear it in peace.

Drink, friend,
drink the wine.

No!

Theseus, my son!

My son!

Seize her.
Seize the sorceress!

Curse on you,
Aegeus of Athens.

A curse on your son.

You will bring each other
nothing but pain and sorrow.

Before a year is out,

grief will poison you.

Poison you.

Spitting out her foul curse,

she vanished,
and was seen no more.

But is it true?

Did they bring each other
nothing but pain and sorrow?

Was it terrible?

Oh, no. At first,
it was wonderful.

The king who had rarely
smiled, now laughed.

Age dropped from him,

and Theseus walked
the fortress of the acropolis

with the proud steps
of a prince.

No, no.

At first,
it was wonderful.

There's a
"but" coming up.

But

there was already
a curse on Athens,

and the time had come

for 14 more of
her sons and daughters

to set sail for Crete,

dressed in the white robes
of sacrifice.

Stop!

Take off the robe.
Theseus!

Take off the robe!

Every 7 years, father.

Stretching
into the future.

Our sons
and our sons' sons.

Our wives, daughters,
and their daughters, too.

Not any more.

Son, don't! I beg you.

What is this Minotaur
of theirs?

Who has seen it?

I have! In my dreams
I have seen it.

It waits for me,

and, I, Theseus,
son of Aegeus,

who slew procrustes,
and sciron the kicker,

and sinis the pine bender,

I will fix the monster

and rid Athens of its fear.

Raise your heads, sons
and daughters of Athens.

Lift up your hearts.

We will return

with the head of the beast
on our prow.

Don't return
under the black sail.

If you come back safe,
hoist a white sail.

Son, do you hear me?

I shall be watching
every day from the cliffs.

The white sail, father.

Have no fear.
I will return, I promise.

A white sail!

I promise!

And with his promise
catching on the wind,

Theseus set sail for Crete.

But at that very moment,

in the heart
of the labyrinth,

the Minotaur awoke
from a dream in the dark

and howled.

Shh. It's all right.

It's a dream.

I'll tell you about
the world outside.

About the light,

about the color
of the sky.

They say the sky is blue,
but it's not.

It can be
a thousand colors.

Pinks, grays,

the color of gold,
the color of wine.

And there are people.

Families.

I am somebody's daughter.

I'm the daughter of a king.

I am a sister.

You are a son.

You are a brother.

As Ariadne came
from the labyrinth,

ran from the monster
left with its secrets,

Theseus, son of Aegeus,
sailed into Crete.

And as the children of Athens
came before her,

Theseus, the hero,
stood defiant.

And as he saw her,
as she saw him,

the threads
of their lives crossed,

tangled,
knotted them together.

Kneel, Athenian.

Who am I
kneeling to?

Ariadne,
daughter of King Minos.

If I said, "Athenian,
I implore you, I beg you,

kneel before me."

Would you do that?

How could I refuse?

Forehead on the ground as the Egyptians
kneeled to their kings and queens.

Who are you?

Theseus, son of Aegeus.

The king's son?

And you go to the
Minotaur as sacrifice,

or did you think
you would kill it?

I think I was a fool.
I think so, too.

When I gave you
a civil answer.

Take him away! So die
all enemies of my father.

As the guards lifted him up,

he felt her press something
into his hand.

It was a key.

She gave him a key?

Oh, my goodness,
this is getting exciting.

Theseus was locked
with the others

in the deepest, darkest
dungeon of the palace.

Those that slept,
shook with their nightmares.

Those who couldn't sleep
were fixed on their fate.

Death playing over
in their minds.

How they would die?
What they would feel?

Whether the pain
would be quick or slow?

Or, Zeus, help me.
Athene, help me!

At the far end of the palace, you will
come to a great door marked with gold.

Go through it
and enter the labyrinth.

Pay out this ball of twine behind you
as you go, to guide you on your return.

Go forwards
and always down.

And in the very heart
of the maze,

you'll find the beast.

Why do you do this for me?

Because the curse on Athens
is also the curse on Crete.

Because of the way
you look at me.

How do I look at you?

Like this.

And like this.

Why do you want
the Minotaur dead?

It shames my family.
It shames me.

What life does it have
in the dark?

It's loveless.

Don't ask more.

Go. Go and kill the beast.

Promise me one thing.

Promise me if you return,
you'll take me with you.

I promise.

And so Theseus the hero,

opened the great door
to the labyrinth.

He knew immediately
the beast could sense him.

That like a brooding
black spider,

it could sense
the slightest movement

in its massive,
intricate web.

Theseus froze.
Could hear his own heartbeat.

Or was it the beast's.

What happened?
No, don't tell me.

No, tell me.

Oh, this is terrible.

Theseus crept round
the next corner,

and the next,

always forwards,
always down,

paying out
the thread, until...

The power of a bull,
the guile of a man.

It knew every inch
of its domain.

Wherever Theseus went,
it knew another way.

Suddenly appearing,
smashing through passages,

maddened, wild, famished.

It lay there on the floor,
bleeding to death.

And Theseus stood above it
with his sword.

And as he watched,

its huge jaws moved.

And it seemed to him as if
the sounds coming from them

were almost human.

"Mother," it seemed to say.

"Mother, father,

brother, sister."

No! Don't!

Don't kill him.

He's my brother.

Please. He's my brother.

Move! Move away!

Theseus, son of Aegeus.

He killed it?

He killed it.

Oh.
Oh, what?

Was it really
her brother?

It really was.

That's sad.

That's why Ariadne
always came here, isn't it?

Because she was
his sister.

That's right.

Did Theseus have to kill him?
Couldn't he have been tamed?

Theseus saw only the beast.

Saw only the moment

when he could hold the horns
aloft on the quay at Athens.

His father's face,
the pride,

the hero's welcome.

All his life
had been for that moment.

The birth, the rock,
the sword, the labors,

all for that moment

when he struck off the head
of the Minotaur.

Within an hour, he was
pulling out of the harbor,

firing the cretan ships, heading
out towards the open sea,

the beast's head
wrapped in sailcloth.

Did she go with him?

She did go with him.

She loved him.

From the first moment she'd
seen him, she loved him.

But already she saw his heart
was growing cold and famous.

And she was forced to look
on the bloodied sail

which covered
her brother's head.

And the burning
of her father's mighty fleet.

And regret chilled her

as she stood and watched Crete

recede and fade
on the horizon,

knowing she could
never go back.

The next night,
they put in at naxos,

certain of their safety,

danced the dance of the crane.

The 14 Athenians danced
the ritual steps of victory,

feasted late into the night.

The fires, the wine,

the triumph
flushing their faces.

And Ariadne watched,
pale as sin,

watched and waited for
her new lord to join her.

Waited for him
to lie with her.

And when the fire
had died to its embers,

when the wineskins were dry,

when his feet
could no longer carry him,

Theseus came to her.

And all night,
he promised her anything.

Everything.

The promise
of a man to a woman.

The promise his father
had made to his mother.

And broken.

So, he married her?

When Ariadne woke,
the bed was empty.

The sun beat down
on the white sand.

She looked for Theseus,
but he was gone.

She ran to the shore, running
through the ashes of the feast,

running in the footprints
of the dance, into the water,

as the ship
with the black sail

carried Theseus to Athens.

Theseus!

Son of Aegeus!

Breaker of promises!

Betrayer!

But already Theseus' thoughts
were elsewhere,

puzzling on the beast's head
he kept in the sailcloth.

Now folding,
now unfolding.

Amazed that with each day, its
features seemed to him more human.

More gentle.

That was his sail.

That was the white sail he
promised he would hoist on his return.

I know.

Not wrap the head in it.
He promised his father.

Aegeus had grown old
scanning the distance.

He had grown old waiting.

But then, one day,

standing at the edge
of the cliffs,

he saw a sail approaching.

He held his breath.

From the altars of my family,
you lured me.

My brother's blood
on my hands, faithless one.

His eyes were weak,
the sun so blinding.

At first he could not tell
if it were white or black.

You carried the beast's
poor head with you!

But also my heart!
My heart!

My wretched heart!

Abandoned on this shore.
No way back,

none forward.

I curse you!

I curse you!

I curse you!

His heart broken,

he leapt out into the dazzling
light of the day into the sea,

which ever after
bears his name.

I curse your birth!

I curse the love
I bore for you!

You gods who watch
all things,

hear my cries! Mark my tears!

Let the sky fall on him,
the sea swallow him,

the earth drown him!

He abandoned me!

Theseus, son of Aegeus,

bull-slayer,

King of Athens.

Many nights he would dream

of wandering through the
winding corridors of his palace,

looking as he had
done once before

for a monster to kill.

But in the dream,
it was always his mother,

or his father,
or his wife he killed.

And when he caught
his own reflection,

he had the monster's face.