Original subtitles

Rome,

in the age of the emperors.

# My lady lies in bed

For a 100 years, the same family dynasty has ruled the empire.

Now it's the turn of the famously eccentric Nero.

# I rose up...

An emperor who spent more time among his people than they realised.

You know who I am?

You're a plagiarist, and an insult to music.

You're a pathetic little...

Oh, no.

I had no idea. I'm sorry.

Tigellinus.

He says he's sorry.

I don't think that's enough. What do you think?

I think it's not enough.

Ofonius Tigellinus. Head of Rome's security force.

How wonderful!

Poppaea Sabina, Nero's second wife.

He killed his first.

Don't hit him! He's the emperor!

And the man himself.

Nero had never been a normal emperor,

but this was nothing to what lay ahead.

This is the story of what happened

when the most powerful man on earth lost his mind,

and brought the empire to the brink of destruction.

The event that would define Nero's life

began while he was staying at his country estate outside Rome.

How far is it?

- Thirty miles. - Thirty?

It must be the whole of Rome.

It's been burning all day. You're safe here.

We're going back to Rome. Now.

Rufus.

Sir, we've lost control of it. The streets are too narrow to get to the fire.

- Which way is it moving? - Mainly west.

It's the wooden buildings. It's moving too quick for us.

We've lost a lot of people, sir. You shouldn't stay here.

- What can I do? Sir?

Rufus, I don't know about any of this, but say what you need and I'll make it happen.

Wherever we move people, the fire moves too.

We need open space, sir. The people need...

Open ground. My gardens. My private gardens. Open them. Let anyone in.

- Sir, are you sure... - Tigellinus!

Go. Get the gates open.

This can't happen. This isn't how Rome ends.

The great fire of Rome in 64 AD burned for six days.

The wooden buildings and narrow streets went up like matchwood.

But far from Just fiddling while Rome burned, there is evidence

that Nero did all he could to help control the fire and save lives.

Help me!

Yet, it was his actions after the flames had died that would prove decisive,

both to his reign and to the future of the empire.

Only four of the 14 districts survived.

We believe perhaps half a million people are without homes,

thousands dead.

Have we ever had a fire like this?

Six days? So much damage?

I just can't believe it. I just can't take it in.

It's not so much the damage,

it's what we do next.

Rome is finished.

I can't see we have a choice.

We must move the capital to Neapolis or Capua.

There's nothing left.

Don't turn around. Hold it together.

What do I do?

Seneca, what do I do?

I can't answer that, sir.

In a crisis, great emperors rule as gods rule.

You must decide what you believe is best for Rome.

This is your moment.

Rule as the gods rule,

and you could become one yourself.

What's the matter?

I want to change Rome.

Power. Warfare.

What about what really matters?

Beauty. Art.

That's what's divine.

If we just move the capital, nothing will change.

But if we start again, we can become truly civilised.

People could...

In their daily lives, people could aspire to beauty,

the arts.

That's what Rome can stand for.

Every morning, I pray that I'll die

before my beauty fades.

No, I do.

It's the curse of mortality, knowing that you'll become less than you were.

But you, what you're talking about, transforming Rome,

if you could do that, you would become immortal.

A god of Rome.

I am Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus,

and we are not some shanty town

that's going to apologetically shuffle off downstream.

We are Rome.

We will build it, and build it fast.

A new city.

A Rome worthy of Rome.

And this will not burn down.

It'll be made of marble and stone, all of it.

By building to one plan, the city will have cohesion and purpose.

Public spaces for all Romans.

Wide roads, forums,

gardens, theatres, temples.

And wherever anyone goes in this city,

they will be surrounded by art,

the beauty of art.

We are going nowhere.

It's a wonderful vision.

- Astonishing. Your ancestors would be proud.

I think in this room, a few moments ago, Rome was saved.

Nero began the largest single building programme in history.

Precious metals and millions of tonnes of marble

would be transported across the empire

from Egypt, Greece, Spain,

to adorn the imperial capital.

The Roman invention of concrete made building easier.

But more than ten square miles would have to be paved,

and hundreds of vast, elaborate buildings completed.

Nero became the greatest patron of art in Roman history,

personally commissioning countless sculptures, paintings and vast mosaics.

The scale and likely cost of his dream was unprecedented.

Oh, Seneca, please help me.

Someone's kidnapped me and stuck this horrible thing to my chest.

- Please help! - Then he has my full support.

Traitor. I knew it.

- I was hoping to discuss... - It's for the breathing.

Means that when you finally allow me

to perform in front of my own people,

- I'll sing like a bird. - Sir, an emperor may do many things.

He may lie, cheat and even, when justified, kill.

What he may not do, under any circumstances, is sing.

Why are you here?

To talk to you, sir. Sir, I applaud what you're doing,

but the buildings will take years, and the art you're commissioning...

We need it. - Sir, you don't have the money.

A statue of yourself 120 feet high?

Have you any idea what that much bronze will cost?

The art for your public rooms alone will cost 50 million.

One million for a single bowl.

- It's made of methryl. - You can't possibly pay for this.

We must pay for it!

History is beginning again.

This'll be the age of Nero.

You told me to rule like a god. That's what I'm doing.

Sir,

gods don't have to consider the costs of anything.

Emperors do.

He's right.

Seneca.

The cost.

I know he's like a father to you, but...

Tigellinus, this is my empire and I know it's rich. I know there's money out there.

And I want you to find it.

My father, well, he was just a merchant,

but he knew about money. He said getting it is like pearl fishing.

- Your father couldn't string two words together. - You need to know where to look.

But you also need to be ready to break open a few oysters.

Which kind of oysters did you have in mind?

For 500 years, Rome's been accumulating wealth from conquered territories,

their gold, treasure, so forth, and after each victory,

a portion of that wealth is donated,

as thanks, to the gods.

Rob the temples?

Nero's assault on the temples of Rome was an act that would live in infamy.

The treasure didn't Just belong to the gods, it was Rome's crown Jewels,

embodying all its years of glory and greatness.

And Nero was simply stealing it.

No, no. No.

This is...

Who has ordered this?

Your emperor.

This is outrageous. Rufus, stop. You must stop this.

I can't stop it!

- I've told you, we're starting again. - You foolish boy, you're losing your mind.

You're not starting again, you're ripping the heart out of Rome.

Further raids took place right across the empire,

a direct assault on the establishment of Rome itself.

Nero was now on a collision course with the Senate,

the closest thing Rome had to a parliament.

Ancient loyalties were being tested

and factions were beginning to form.

You know, years ago,

your father falsely accused me of adultery,

exiled me, ruined my name.

But he was emperor.

Denying it would have cost me my life.

I know what it is to be the enemy of an emperor, Nero.

I'm too old to be one again.

You'll never be my enemy.

I respectfully ask to be permitted to retire from your service.

My counsel is clearly...

No. I won't allow it.

Very well.

Then I must regretfully inform you

that, due to illness, I must spend more time in the country

and will be unable to attend to you as in the past.

The temples were sacrilege.

You moaning old man.

We all of us need the protection of the gods, Nero.

Get out of my sight!

I am emperor!

I don't need protection from the gods.

The gods need protection from me. Hear me?

The gods need protection from me!

We've been tutting behind our hands about him for years.

Bitching, complaining, but not changing a thing.

- And now the temples. - It's an atrocity.

We think that this deserves more than just a few snide puns among ourselves.

"We"?

I think you'd better say clearly what you mean, gentlemen.

I mean, Nero must somehow be removed.

You look lovely.

Feeling any better?

It's what I feel like. Two hours of rancid sweat and bloodshed.

Look at that.

Rule like gods rule, eh?

Like a god.

The happier this lot, the more irritated the Senate become.

There must be some way.

There is a way you might wish to consider.

If there were enough men in the Senate who felt as you do,

what's to stop them voting to declare the emperor

an enemy of the state?

We'd need huge support.

How can we know if enough of the senators would back us?

Cluvius.

He is bankrupting Rome and destroying everything it stands for in the process.

Who would you put in his place? There's no one.

He's a direct descendant from Augustus.

Rome is his.

It belonged to his ancestors

and it'll belong to whatever that woman's carrying in her womb.

What you're proposing is not just changing emperor,

it's changing everything.

Cluvius says the moderate Senate would never support it,

and even if they did, there's no legitimate successor.

Of course that's not absolutely true.

Someone of noble birth, from an old and respected family,

- they could win the support of the Senate. - An emperor outside the bloodline?

"Respected family".

Of course I would have to be convinced it was right for Rome, before suggesting myself.

- You'd be prepared to do that? - Lf the situation is sufficiently bad.

And providing, of course, you can find a more direct method of removing Nero.

- You mean to kill him? - I mean no such thing.

But if you feel there's no other option...

It would require rather fewer supporters.

Seneca, I believe Nero will not live much longer.

Ah.

In that event, it is felt that Piso would be the best man to replace him

and I have been sent to assess your support.

- For Piso? Or for Nero's misfortune? - Both.

Our numbers are growing.

So why do you need an old man like me?

To give your plans a spurious air of respectability? Hmm?

I was expecting you, or someone like you.

Will you support us?

Nero has no right to ride roughshod over everything Rome stands for.

That's why I'm out here.

And it's why I'll not tell him about this conversation.

But I'm not about to murder the man I love.

Not for you, not for anyone.

Nine months after the fire,

the scale and true cost of the building programme was becoming clear.

Sooner or later, even the temple money would run out.

Then raise taxes.

They have been raised. - Well, double them!

Spain,

Gaul, Africa, Asia. We're not stopping now!

I am not going... What's that?

It's nothing. It can be changed, Nero. It's nothing.

- Nero, it's... - It's not right, is it?

- Calm down. - It's not right. It's not...

Stop it.

- Listen to me. - It's not enough. It's not enough!

Stop it now! Stop it.

- How about poison? - We can't poison him.

We can't poison him. He has tasters to check his food.

You need to find some way to get close to him with a knife.

- When he's without his guard. - And without Tigellinus.

Come on, Piso. He trusts you. If you were to invite him to dinner...

I don't want "dinner at Piso's" to become a euphemism for being stabbed to death.

If I am to be emperor, my household cannot be dishonoured.

You can't make a man kill someone in his own home.

It should be on the public stage for all to see, or what's the point?

Tomorrow, at the chariot races, that's your chance.

Who's going to do it?

Let's say you're Nero. Sit there, Flavus.

Natalis, grab his legs. So he can't move. That's it.

And I'll stab him. Let me stab him.

- Are you sure? It's not easy to kill a man. - I'll just stab him. I can do it.

You will not just stab him! You must not take this lightly.

If you don't kill him,

you can be certain that Nero will not think twice

about killing you, all of us.

- Yeah, I know. I can do it. I'll be fine. - He knows that.

- I know what I'll use. Milichus! - I'm not going to be there.

I'm going to be with Piso at the barracks.

Milichus! - As soon as Nero is dead,

we proclaim you emperor and invite their support.

So what are you... Milichus. I want you to go at once

and get my Temple of Safety dagger.

Clean it, sharpen it, really sharp, and I want it with us at the races tomorrow.

You hear me? Now go.

I can do this. I can do it.

Open up.

Who is it? What do you want?

My name is Milichus and I'm a slave.

And if this door doesn't open, the emperor will die!

Sorry it's so late.

I thought we should clear this up while we have the chance.

Well, if I can be of any help to either of you.

You asked for a dagger to be sharpened

in preparation for your visit to tomorrow's games, so you could... do it.

I'm sorry if Milichus has troubled you with any of this.

Are you planning to kill me?

Wha... Kill you? I can't, um...

The emperor simply wanted to put his mind at rest.

You give them a home...

All I talked to Milichus about was that I wanted the dagger polished.

Well, it's a family heirloom and tonight at dinner,

Natalis, who's always admired it, said I'd been neglecting it.

Well, it was his idea to have it polished.

But taking it to the games is utterly ridiculous.

What? Was I going to throw it at you?

- Exactly. I mean to say...

I trust we can hold on to Milichus?

Of course. Do what you like with him. I'm just sorry he's caused so much...

- No, don't apologise. My men'll take you home.

He says it was Natalis' idea to polish the dagger. Ask him, ask Natalis.

If his story matches that, I'll save you the trouble of killing me.

But it won't. Will it, master?

Rufus, what's going on?

I don't know. They said it was urgent.

Keep close. Stay sharp.

Thank you for joining us.

Little problem you might be able to help with. Flavus, you can wait outside.

What problem? What's he been saying?

Natalis was about to tell us about Scaevinus' dagger.

What?

I don't know what you...

I don't know anything about a dagger.

Oh, no.

It's nicely salted. Now you have my word that you will eat your own eyeball

if you do not tell me who's trying to kill the emperor.

Please, please. It was Gallus.

- And Pollio was with us. Keep going.

Who else? Acilia.

Please, please. That's it, I swear. That's everyone.

Rufus?

Rufus, your turn. Get him to talk.

You traitor! You traitor, Rufus. He's with us.

- Rufus is one of us! - Flavus!

It was an honour working with you.

Who else? Who led the plot?

Please, please. Please. All right. It was... It was Piso.

Piso?

He was to be emperor.

Why would they want to kill me?

Because you're mad! Don't you see that?

What you're doing to Rome? You're killing Rome! You're killing it!

- Who else? - Everybody! There were dozens of us.

Dozens!

Names. - Piso, Scaevinus, Rufus...

- I want them all to die. - Flavus...

I want them all to die. I want them all to die!

Senecio,

Quintus Silvanus, Statius Proximus,

Cornelius Martialis, Pompeius, Flavius Nepos,

Statius Domitius...

The wave of assassination that Nero unleashed

was unlike anything Rome had ever seen.

In one move, all political opposition was wiped out.

There were no trials and no excuses.

There's just one more.

One more.

Seneca.

Your trusted Seneca.

So here it is.

My end.

He's dead.

They're all dead. What now?

Now I perform.

In public.

In Rome.

Now, without anyone to restrain him,

Nero set about presenting to the people his vision of an artistic empire.

He announced the biggest arts festival in Roman history.

And he, the emperor, would top the bill.

You'll be sensational.

The senators must vote fairly. People need to know that this isn't fixed.

I'm an artist. A true artist.

Remember, no coughing, no stopping.

Don't touch your mask, hold your sceptre firmly.

- That's better. - Are you listening to me?

Yes. Don't interrupt the performance.

Fine slender branch that mustn't break.

Fine slender branch.

This is it. This is it, this is it, this is it, this is it.

Art is divine. I am divine. Art is divine. It must be perfect.

- I must be perfect. - You will be.

Tonight the world will gain a great artist.

It's hard to imagine a modern equivalent,

but the outrage felt by aristocratic Romans to an emperor performing

is similar to what would be felt today

if Queen Elizabeth II became a pole dancer.

Lo,

does my heart not beat your blood, father?

Am I not you, my father?

And yet,

as your blood dried on my hands,

did I not grow stronger?

Why did I smile and murder you?

Oh, I felled my family tree that day,

leaking my own sap into the earth.

I did not...

Leaking my own sap into the earth.

I did not know.

Oh, cruel ignorance. I did not know...

What do you think?

What does it matter what I think?

He is the emperor and this is his life in a nutshell.

He can do what he wants,

and we must simply applaud.

Father!

Mother!

Wife!

Goad me to my death.

Come here.

Look at you.

Ooh.

Oh, this is the start. Our new start, Nero.

- I won fairly. They voted fairly, didn't they? - Of course they did. You deserved to win.

- It had to be perfect. Was I perfect, Poppaea? - Oh, I'm so proud. Rome is proud.

This is how I can lead them all, Poppaea.

Transform Rome by example.

Art is divine. I am divine.

- Was I perfect, Poppaea? - Oh, you were perfect. They saw that.

Even when you dropped the sceptre and paused, it was so quick.

- I saw people moved to tears. - What did you say?

About the sceptre?

What?

What did you just say to me?

Nero,

you were everything you wanted to be.

It was perfect.

Come and lie down.

- You can all leave now, thank you. - No, they're staying.

You said...

I made a fool of myself.

No, I...

I said you were perfect.

- Nobody noticed. - Shut up.

Nero, you won. You... You did enough. You did enough.

Shut up!

Don't you ever hit me!

Was perfect? It's not enough!

Not enough!

She...

She said I dropped my...

What have I done?

Nothing.

Poppaea's death coincided with a worsening of the financial crisis.

The building programme was bankrupting Rome.

Nero's dream was floundering.

Nothing is finished!

Nothing!

Whole districts...

still in ruins.

Take your eyes off her.

I've given everything I have.

Take your eyes off her if you can't say the same.

Do it!

And don't any of you dare say there's no money.

Don't you dare!

You, pearl fisher,

I need money.

Find it.

Building does not stop.

With the empire sliding towards financial ruin,

Nero and a massive entourage left Rome,

for an extended tour of public performance and private debauchery.

That slave, Sporus.

Remind you of anyone?

Sir?

I first saw him the day Poppaea... left me.

She always said her beauty would outlive her.

Sir, you want to complete the building programme.

Money is desperate, but I think I've found a source of more.

You create a law which makes everyone leave a portion of their wealth to you in their wills.

Even the very rich.

If they want their families to enjoy your protection after they die,

they must leave a tenth of their estate to you.

And if they don't die?

I'm talking about everyone in the empire. In time, you'll make a fortune.

I can't wait that long. Why should I?

- I don't think you'll have to wait... - No more waiting. Rome needs this.

Prepare a...

A list of the richest men. Landowners, noblemen...

Make them leave everything they have to me.

Sir, you're talking about the most powerful men in the world.

- It's not enough. - These people...

It's not enough!

Find them, change their wills.

And make them die, Tigellinus.

Make them die... now.

Nero now had power that few men in history have ever equalled.

There was no one to control him.

He had no enemies, no friends, no wise advisers.

Nero had become capable of anything.

Across the empire, wealthy aristocrats were offered a simple choice.

Give their lives and leave their money to the emperor,

or else see their families wiped out.

Everything in the known world was Nero's for the taking.

Make him...

a woman.

No, please. No, please!

No!

No, please!

No!

My Poppaea.

The suicide campaign was unprecedented.

But so was the response.

In 67 AD, a letter was delivered to every senator,

that called for something nobody had ever done before.

Rebellion.

And the sun stopped his mouth.

Sir.

- Four more suicides in Germania. - Sir, we need to talk.

Six in Africa.

And between them, they owned half our territory there.

- Sir. - You're a genius.

Sir, the governors of Gaul and Spain are rebelling against you.

They've written to all the senators, claiming to have 100,000 men behind them.

I'd rather have them in front of me.

Poppaea. Sir?

Isn't she wonderful?

Sir. This is a genuine threat.

- You must see that. - We've had rebellions before.

Not like this. These aren't barbarians wanting their freedom.

These are Romans, aristocrats.

They don't want to get rid of the empire... They want to get rid of you.

You must tell the Senate what you plan to do about it.

You need to be in Rome.

Nero returned to address the Senate,

through territories slipping into poverty and starvation.

More and more provinces,

Gaul, Spain, Africa, Germania, were Joining the rebellion.

Rome was now the greatest city the world had ever seen.

But Nero's dream had sucked the wealth out of the empire.

Behind the facade, it was collapsing.

This is magnificent!

And it's yours!

It's yours!

All this is yours.

Rome is beauty.

In all your lives.

In all your lives...

It's all your God-given gift from a god.

Rome is beauty.

Boo!

Look at you.

It's pathetic.

You will be aware of the considerable unrest in...

Well, in a great many parts of your empire.

Perhaps you can share your intentions?

Intentions, intentions, intentions.

Intentions, he mentions intentions.

My beloved Seneca once told me

that an emperor must rule his empire

as the gods rule the world.

That is my intention.

In three days,

I will set out for Gaul myself and confront our enemies.

They will learn the error of their ways.

This will be a defining moment in Rome's new history.

A revolution in the way Rome conducts its campaigns.

I will quash my deluded enemy, not with the sword,

but with art.

My art.

I intend to sing to them.

First,

I'll stand on the battlefield

and let their gaze fall upon me.

And then,

I will simply... weep.

And on seeing how deeply they hurt me,

they will weep.

And in the morning, I will stand before them again

and I will sing.

And my voice

will reach inside them,

take hold of their hearts

and... Actually I should get home and work on the song.

At once.

At once.

Nero now assembled the most bizarre army in history.

Hundreds of prostitutes would travel to perform to the enemy, alongside the emperor.

Their hair cut short like Amazons.

You're taking a big risk asking me here.

Don't threaten me, boy.

There are bigger things at stake than my life.

Nero has lost his mind.

There's no successor. He has no heir.

Anything is better than this.

I have served the divine bloodline all my life, and I'm not alone.

But if I remain loyal and do nothing,

this rebellion will tear the empire apart.

So we have no choice.

We must sever the bloodline that has ruled us for generations,

and rebuild the way we govern

what is supposed to be the civilised world.

Our Senate wishes to vote to declare Nero

an official enemy of the state.

But they're frightened...

Of you.

So tell me, does the son of a bankrupt Sicilian merchant

wish to be an enemy of the next emperor,

or a friend?

There was a time when nobody would have dared ask me a question like that.

There was a time when it wasn't worth the risk.

Times change.

Free from the threat to their own lives, the Senate used the only weapon it had left.

The man who'd dreamed of being a god

was now an enemy of the state,

condemned to death.

My lord, you need to come. Your guards are leaving the palace.

Poppaea. Poppaea.

Tigellinus.

Tigellinus?

We're friends.

I'm the emperor.

I'm the rightful emperor.

It's not... enough.

Come on!

It was now the duty of all citizens across the empire

to kill their emperor, or assist others to do so.

Nero had nowhere to hide.

I'll need you to help me.

Don't, Poppaea. Nothing will happen.

They didn't make me a god.

But I am one, you know. I am a god.

I must be.

I must be.

I steal and destroy

and nothing happens.

I kill people.

I killed people.

I killed her.

Oh, please.

I killed her.

And nothing happened. How can that be?

If I'm not a god, how can that be?

This can't be real.

Whatever they think of me,

the world is losing a great artist.

Poppaea, you can cry now.

Nero's death brought to an end

the dynasty that had ruled since the age of the emperors had begun.

What followed was a bloody civil war,

a war that Tigellinus would not survive.

Rome had finally come to realise that choosing its rulers

solely from a narrow group of aristocrats was no way to run an empire.

The man who eventually won the throne

owed his position to merit, rather than birth.

Next on Ancient Rome...

Freedom fighters, battles and betrayal.

As Nero fell, Rome faced the biggest rebellion in its history.

This is the story of how a father-and-son team rose from disgrace

to put it down.