All language subtitles for Spartacus_20War_20of_20the_20Damned_202013_20MovieFull-HD_20BLURAY_20720P_2043_20E01

Give report!

Spartacus' cavalry
has broken our western flank.

That fucking savage.

Give signal to re-form
to the south.

Kill him!

We must go!

Spartacus!

The Romans have sounded retreat.

We have won the day.

We have won nothing.

Cossinius and Furius
again slip from grasp.

The same cannot be said

for many that stood with them.

The field is thick with the dead.

Deserved fate.

For all who would see us
again to shackle and whip.

Another standard lost?

It is a grave wound inflicted
upon the Republic, Cossinius.

A deeper one would have been suffered,

had we not withdrawn from battle.

It confounds the fucking senses.

How could a handful of errant
slaves continue to vex us?

I fear their numbers have
been sorely underestimated

within the Senate.

Spartacus' mongrel horde has swelled

with each passing victory,

since Glaber's defeat at Vesuvius.

They added thousands to rank

liberating the mines of Lucania.

Slaves across the Republic,

humble and grateful to their masters

for so many years,
have broken to treachery

in the wake of ever expanding
legend of Spartacus.

Untold numbers joined his cause

after Scrofa fell to him
on the banks of the Calor.

His standards and
fasces falling to the enemy,

as the man himself.

Such chaos and death at the hands

of a fucking slave.

You will discover this fucking slave

at the very gates of Rome itself,

if reinforcements are not dispatched.

Lucullus battles Mithridates
near the Black Sea.

Antonius sails against
the pirates plaguing Crete.

Pompey yet struggles with the renegade.

Sertorius in Espainia.

The resources of the Senate

are drained by these conflicts.

We have not the men nor
the coin to procure them.

There is one among us
who could fund endeavor

from his own purse.

And never feel sting of its cost.

I had hoped to avoid involving the man.

We would not be beholden to him
any more than you, Metellus.

Produce alternative,
and we shall seize upon it.

Very well.

I shall return to Rome
and entreat Crassus

to aid in crushing
Spartacus and his rebellion.

And in the act, attempt
to redress grievous injury

inflicted upon the honor
of the Republic.

The field has been stripped
of weapons and horses.

The Romans' loss again
becomes our bounty.

What of Gannicus?

I would have his report as well.

You well know the man.

He favors celebration after a victory.

Often for many days.

A thing I would gladly give blessing.

After Cossinius and
Furius fall from concern.

They have proven themselves no fools.

And may yet attempt bold maneuver.

Double our sentries
in surrounding hills.

I would not be caught unaware.

You give those shits credit beyond due.

Underestimating your opponent
is a Roman trait, Agron.

Do not fall prey to it.

Cossinius and Furius come
to the end of their days.

With each passing sun,
hundreds of slaves

break bond to join our cause.

Agron is not wrong in this.

Soon we shall have
the advantage of numbers.

Gauge prowess
of all that have joined us,

and see them readied.

I would strike again
at nearest opportunity,

and give further warning
to the fools in Rome

seeking to grind us beneath heel.

Every day for months
he wrestles with the man,

groans and grunts filling ear.

Your father is a dedicated student.

And I forced to stand
witness to the lessons,

while more pressing
matters fall to ill attention.

Apologies, Dominus.

I lose myself in the heat of contest.

Less than a scratch.

Worse deserved for
not anticipating blow.

You are quick of study.

Yet you open flank to injury

when perceived advantage is pressed.

The ruin of many
a man within the Senate.

Let us return to lesson
after evening meal is broken.

Dominus.

The rumors prove true, Crassus.

You take instruction from a slave.

Hilarus stood a champion
of the arena for many years.

I paid his lanista more
coin than you'll ever see

in your life to purchase the man,

and impart what he's
learned of the games.

And of the men who have
drawn blood upon the sands.

Gladiators.

You strike upon very
subject of my visit.

If we may break word in private?

Oh, Tiberius is well trained
in the ways of men.

I would expose him to
those of the Senate as well.

To the matter,

we've have suffered
unexpected complications

in our conflict
with the rebel Spartacus.

Cossinius and Furius have fallen?

They live, but find themselves

in need of reinforcement.

An expensive thing to acquire,

in these troubled times.

Their asses must
be sore from the ramming

Spartacus has given,
to come begging to me.

No one is begging.

They are asking assistance

from a loyal member of the Senate.

How much assistance?

Ten thousand men.

It would take
considerable coin and effort

to raise such a force.

And in return you
will be offered a command.

Under Cossinius and Furius, of course.

An offer better received
from the men themselves.

They've withdrawn
to a villa on the outskirts

of Nuceria, within short ride

of what remains of their
legion to the north.

Spartacus continues to gather force

in the valley of Campania.

You know I would not have come

if situation did not demand of it.

No. You would not.

Their terms are agreeable.

I will dispatch message
to them immediately.

Best I send my own men,

to ensure it arrives
at intended destination.

Whatever your will.

To voice truth of it,
I had expected you to extort

inflated title at the very least,

as Pompey did to take his
charge against Sertorius.

My interest lies only
in title and honor earned.

Apologies for ever suspecting less.

You would agree to serve
beneath Cossinius and Furius,

absent true command?

It would appear so.

I have heard how you berate their names,

how foolish and vain you
think them and Senator Metellus.

Father --
The time for words has ended.

Spartacus must fall,

and I shall set upon what path I must

to see day hastened.

For the glory of Rome.

I saw it with my own fucking eyes!

In the heat of battle, blood
and brains thick to the knee.

And Gannicus, in the middle of it all!

Strips to his fucking cock,

bellowing to the Romans
to kneel before him

and receive golden tribute!

In my defense, I had taken
much wine that day,

not expecting Spartacus
to turn and attack Scrofa.

Nor did that Roman cunt!

Spartacus stands a god!
His sword cleaving the heavens

He is man...like no other.

Rome trembles at his name

and soon the mighty fucking republic

will fall to his fucking wrath
- To Spartacus!

There is more wine?

My friends, are of thirst.

Your woman brings gifts!

Gifts, yes.

Not for you.

Out.

Out.

It is my fucking tent.

Out.

We shall find another.

Hopefully as well stocked.

Is it imagining,
or do we rise to heights

unknown in wake of battle?

As all men do, when bathed
in blood and victory.

When Rome falls, I fear we shall

split the heavens in celebration.

And fuck Jupiter

as he plummets to the earth.

Oh, you believe you fuck as a god now?

I boast but upon evidence given.

Couple proud words with wine,

and see them better received.

You afforded yourself well
upon the field this day.

You stand surprised?

I have always believed in you, Nasir.

Even when you were yet a contrary

little Syrian slave boy.

My eyes were yet shrouded.

I am forever in Spartacus'
debt, for parting veil.

A debt shared equally by all.

One we shall repay with Roman lives.

You summoned me?

I would not have had to.

If you had reported in with Crixus

and Agron days ago.

My attentions were called
by pressing matters.

Of women and drink?

Are there any more so?

Days can not pass after
battle without your report.

We fought.

We won.

Does that cover needed ground?

Hmm.

You have proven valuable asset

against the Romans.

Yet I would have you stand more

than just another sword.

Take rightful place
beside Crixus and myself,

as a leader.

I will give life to your cause,

in honor of Oenomaus.

I may even believe in
it myself upon a day.

But I am no leader, nor seek to be one.

There are many that already
look to you as such.

A greater number still
would follow you in battle.

You mean die for me?

For the cause.

I would not be set above my brothers,

and thought greater than I am.

As many begin to think of you.

I do not wish it.

Yet it is so.

They begin to speak of you as a god.

And may react poorly
when you prove yourself mortal.

Victory against the Romans
is my only concern.

And how is it defined?

When Cossinius and Furius

struck from this world?

You know that will not be the end of it.

Rome will send more
and more in their wake.

Then they too shall fall.

And when we have laid
waste to the mighty Republic?

What will you turn
your wrath upon then hmmm?

The men that set you on this path,

the men that took your wife from you.

They are gone from this world.
Their wives too,

in past news of Lucretia
and Ilithyia's fall.

A thousand lives
would not equal Sura's.

I dared to love a woman once.

When I was a slave to Batiatus.

She yet draws breath?

I would give the world to have it so.

A fate too common, for men such as us.

I had my vengeance, as you did.

And stood as empty.

Until Oenomaus forgave betrayal.

Oenomaus?

It was his wife I lost heart to.

Even when freedom was
gained, shackles

of what I had done
to those I loved remained.

With final breath,
Oenomaus struck chains

that bound me.

There is no one I hold to heart, left

to break such balming words.

Absent such, a man must
speak them to himself.

Words also denied me.

You seek them in the voice of
thousands, clamoring for blood?

I could not save my wife.
Nor Mira.

Nor many more close to heart
you've not known.

And I can fight to see a day

when no innocent life
is so easily disregarded.

A day when the Romans and their cruelty

are but a distant memory.

May you find peace
in its arrival, brother.

Let us share wine and women,

and set aside such
heavy fucking thoughts.

The offer is much appreciated.

Then I will drink and fuck in your name.

Fight when called upon.

The very steps to the Roman Senate

if that is where your madness leads.

Raise offer to 350 denarii

and two iugera of land.

We must elevate numbers quickly.

I will dispatch Sabinus and see it done.

I thought you to bed.

Tiberius has filled his ears
with talk of war.

The battle rages in his head,
vanquishing slumber.

Is it true?

You ride with an army against Spartacus?

Yes to defend the Republic,

as is the duty of all Romans.

I'm a Roman.
I will go with you.

Oh, would
that you were of an age,

to stand by your father's side.

Now for your bed, Publius,

and dream of future laurels.

Yes, father.

He would follow you to the shores

of the afterlife, if so commanded.

As would Tiberius.

He will hold place amongst
my troops when they march.

A place?

He deserves position of note,

worthy of the name he bears.

He does not yet hold the years

for the title of Tribune.

Coin and persuasion would see

such rules set aside--

He has not earned it.

Tiberius has shown great
promise as a soldier.

Yet he falls from target
in strategy and discerning mind.

Then lend instruction.

My lessons never cease.

It is for him to apply them.

Your work carries into night?

And threatens break of dawn.

I shall see food and wine brought.

Kore shall tend to my needs.

Of course.

Your bed awaits.

If you find want of it.

It is an honor long deserved,
to be given command.

One he finds beneath
Cossinius and Furius.

I have never known your father

to remain beneath anyone
for length of time.

Ah, perhaps the years
have tempered desire

for laurels and adulation of the crowds.

And what of your desires?

Apollo himself would be
set ablaze by them.

I shall remember not to stand too near,

for fear of melted wings.

I would not have you from
my side in this, Sabinus.

The gods themselves could
not wrest me from it.

I will see offer raised
and numbers elevated.

Gratitude.

I recall a time when you and
Sabinus were but children,

playing at war with wooden sticks.

Such games are of the past.

A thing yet proven to your father.

Do not give him cause
to further doubt you.

Any shall be swept from thought,

when I stand awash in
the blood of our enemies.

Watch your left!

Watch for the swing!

Raise fucking guard!

Your boy grows fiercer by the day.

Soon even I shall fear
to call him little man.

At least now I will be able to
understand you when you yield,

you simple shit.

Spartacus...

Next man!
Take position!

Let's go! Let's go!

Begin!
Come on!

We test the last
of those that have joined us.

How do you find them?

Enthusiastic.

Yet short of skill.

Many among us once stood as such.

These will soon prove as worthy.

Perhaps not all.

Next man!

Do not speak of this.

Go.

Diotimos?

If I were?

Inside.

Quickly.

I can spare no more than this,

so do not fucking ask.

Gratitude, gratitude.

You have killed a horse?

Lower fucking voice.

I would not follow the animal

in crush news of meat would bring.

Who gave permission?

A man atop a horse in
battle is valued ten

upon foot.

He was gravely wounded
against the Romans.

I would have sought permission

from the great man upon the hill,

but King Spartacus is far
too busy waging war

to bother with such low concerns.

What moves you to such thoughts?

Open fucking eyes you have your answer.

I begin to question turning from
the calm of the ocean breeze

and the safety of my city's walls.

You were a free man, then?

Far removed.

I toiled beneath the heel
of a most unpleasant shit

in Sinuessa en Valle.

Yet he at least provided
for fucking needs.

Did you expect freedom
to come absent cost?

No.

Yet absent fucking plan
to be clothed or fed

we must take matters into our own hands.

Or risk early grave
waiting for the Bringer

of Fucking Rain to bless us
with much needed shower.

Weather will soon turn cold,

and with it--
Spartacus!

A clutch of Romans ride from the north,

attempting to slip past our position.

You are Spartacus?

Apologies, I-I did --
Still tongue.

You may not always have
full belly or warm cloak,

but while I draw breath you have freedom

to speak your heart.

Even against the great
man upon the hill.

Fuck the gods.

You there!

What is your purpose so
near rebel encampment?

Who else is with you?

Find fucking tongue.

Who is with you?

Death.

Rahh!

We must follow.

No. A spear. Quickly.

I stand your equal with sword.

Yet you have me by fucking spear.

Spartacus.

This one carried a message.

What does it say?

Ten thousand?

Led by Marcus Crassus Himself.

Cossinius and Furius will
see their numbers swell,

stripping advantage.

We could lay trap.
Here, upon the Appian Way.

Catch them by surprise
before they have chance

to join their brothers.

That would place us between.

Crassus advancing from the north

and Cossinius and Furius in the south.

We do not have the men to face
armies on both fronts.

We must strike Cossinius and Furius

before odds tip to imbalance.

We have inflicted nagging wound.

Yet for months we have failed
to shatter resolve of their men.

Perhaps the heads of their commanders

carried before us would so sway them.

Trophies proven difficult to win.

On the field of battle, yes.

By what is written here,
message was not directed

to where their troops lie.

It speaks of hope that
word finds them safe

within the villa.

They have gone to ground?

Warm bath and the comfort of women,

if my days in Rome are of worth.

Where is this villa?

It does not say.

Then we return to beginning.

We intercepted Crassus'
men here, riding southeast.

Cossinius and Furius would seek to stay

within reasonable distance of their men.

Would place their villa

somewhere within this region.

How do we divine which is theirs?

They are no fools, as you have said.

We will know location
by placement of sentries.

And sizable force they no doubt have

without villa to lend protection.

Then we descend upon them
with every sword we have.

No.

We risk discovery moving against
the villa with large numbers.

Cossinius and Furius would be alerted,

and have chance to slip
again from grasp.

Yet a few men might penetrate
defense unnoticed...

A few against many.

Much as the old days.

Gannicus, Crixus--
I would have you at my side.

I am to stand idle,
with arm up fucking ass?

You are to lead in my absence.

Gather every man and woman
that can hold weapon.

Towards what purpose?

One of vital importance,
if we are to gain victory.

It is plan born of fevered mind.

As often springs from his brow.

Yet if we can see it--
If.

A word forever casting shadow.

You burn brightly enough
to light darkest night.

I voice concern and you offer flattery.

I offer truth.

Your fire blazes to
rival the fucking sun.

These hands, once trembled
with broken memory,

now stand as strong
as the steel they wield.

Because of you.

Because your heart is strong.

And your will undeniable force,

as I have often discovered.

I would not be from your side.

Nor I yours, but this
night it must be so.

Stay near to Agron,
and follow command.

Kill many Romans.

And return to my arms
with their blood

hot upon you.

The bodies of the dead

be all that greet Crassus and his army.

Sword.

There is yet much to be done,

if we are to move against Spartacus.

Hmmm, much.

Yet you waste hour sparring
with a common slave.

Was Spartacus not also once
thought of as such?

Would you dismiss him
so casually as well?

No. Yet for all
his victories

Spartacus is still a slave.

He's a man.

No better or worse than
any sharing title.

You would place him upon equal
footing with a Roman?

In some regards, he's proven
to stand even higher.

Psst.

You believe wealth
and position grant you

advantage over those beneath you?

I believe we tower
above a slave in all things,

no matter what name he bears.

Then couple words with actions,

and prove belief.

Well, you've been well trained

in the Roman ways of combat.

Surely you can best a common slave.

Apologies, Dominus.
I did not mean to...

You did but teach lesson sorely needed.

As Spartacus schools those
who consider themselves gods,

perched far above lesser men.

And laughs as they tumble
from the heavens.

There are too many.

Even for us.

Then let us pause moment.

And see numbers thinned.

The die has been cast.

We cannot reverse throw.

There has been no word from Metellus.

He takes overly long.

And with what haste could we expect

reply from Longinus for aid?

Cisalpine Gaul lays
twice distance than Rome.

At least consider
dispatching message--

Praetor.

The rebel army gathers near
our legions in the north.

Give Mummius orders for first

and second cohorts
to move to support them.

To fuck with Crassus.

We shall rejoin our men and
take Spartacus ourselves.

Fetch armor
and sword! Quickly!

Agron's advance on position

to the north draws them away.

Not all.

The gods have heard my prayers.

There is no boast in easy victory.

Stay to the shadows.

And let us end this.

He speaks to me as he would a child.

Then prove him wrong,
and do not pout as one.

An army not yet raised to maturity.

Preparation for long march
and campaign ignored.

All in favor of playing
with this fucking brute.

I do not understand his mind.

Set aside wounded
pride and think as he would.

And see shrouded mystery parted.

Swiftly. Before they are
discovered from their post.

We do not know how many await inside.

Let us pray they are not too few.

I am encircled by mad fucks.

And begin to count myself as one.

The gods favor us.

Spartacus holds no belief in them.

I pray this night they prove me wrong.

Dominus, it takes
time to master technique.

I well know it can swell frustration.

My frustrations lie not with myself.

Dominus? If I have done
something to offend...

The only offense lies
in what you do not do.

You hold back in your assault.

Do you think I'm not worthy of it?

As the Senate believes me
unworthy of a true command?

No, Dominus.

None stand more worthy
of respect than you.

Then see it given.

Come at me.

As you would an opponent in the arena,

absent thought of mercy.

Father--

We all have lessons that must learned.

I would have this my final test.

And in its completion,
knowledge that I am readied

to face those trained in
your arts upon field of battle.

You ask me to kill you.

I command you to try.

Then you command my death.

If you're victorious, it will be
at the cost of my life.

If you fall to my sword,
my life is equally forfeit.

Tiberius.
Bear witness.

If Hilarus strikes me down

he's to be rewarded with his freedom

and ten thousand denarii.

You cannot be serious.

A man's true enemy is doubt.

A thing I would not carry into battle

against Spartacus.

Make choice.

Or fall where you stand.

Your will, Dominus.

My hands.

First and second garrison
ride to join the legion.

Spartacus does not hold the numbers

for decisive victory.

What is his mind in such attack?

Let us see his skull split open,

and read his fucking thoughts
upon the ground--

Spartacus.

Stay together.

You must stop this.

He has given command.

It must be obeyed.

Come on!

We must see you to safety.

I will not fucking turn from him again.

Seize reason. We will
return with more men

and see Spartacus to his fate.

Don't let them away!

Go!

You were waiting...

for me to think you'd
made misstep I warned you of...

Knowledge and patience.

The only counter to greater skill.

You have been well schooled.

Know that your service

will not pass unremembered.

The coin I promised had you bested me

shall be set towards monument

to the storied gladiator Hilarus.

It has been the greatest of honors

to have served you, Dominus.

The honor was mine.

Fucking savages have
blocked us from egress.

Take shelter here.

I will not fall trapped
as fucking animal.

Your cause is lost.

The mistake is mine.

In not foreseeing you would
attack in the night,

as the thieves and cutthroats you prove.

A mistake you shall not make again.

Name terms of surrender,

and let us be done with this.

There are none I would trust
a Roman to honor.

Gather their heads.

A most ill-fated turn.

And yet news of calamity

does not end with their deaths.

Absent proper command,

I fear Cossinius and Furius' men

will soon be scattered to the winds.

Yes it was most unfortunate

their leaders fell before my arrival.

Even more unfortunate
that your messenger appears

to have taken routes that passed

so near the rebel encampment.

Give plain voice.

If you're of a mind.

Let us move from clouded past

and turn eye towards pressing future.

Sole command and charge
to bring Spartacus

to deserved end is now yours.

Along with title of Imperator,
if you so wish it.

I serve the glory of Rome.

As do we all.

You planned this.

From the moment Metellus offered command

under Cossinius and Furius.

The House of Crassus bows to no one.

How did you know Spartacus

would make attempt on their lives,

instead of fleeing when
knowledge was gained

of your army advancing from Rome?

Because it is what I would have done.

Mummius and the last of the Romans

flee to the west.

Sight of their leaders' heads upon pike

has broken fucking spirit.

Let us give chase,
and see them all to equal fate.

We have won our victory.

I would see us far from here

in advance of Crassus and his army.

The mighty Spartacus turns
from unwinnable fight?

Our numbers have grown
beyond wildest expectation.

Yet winter will soon be upon us.

To face hunger and cold
as well as Crassus

would drag us to certain doom.

We must seek advantage
of supplies and shelter.

One that can be defended if set upon,

until spring warms intent.

There is not a villa in all the lands

that could hold such numbers.

No, there is not.

Only a city could hold us now.

And we shall tear one
from the flesh of Rome,

and salt mortal wound
with blood and death.