In the Name of Ben Hur Page #4

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You are a fool.

A wise man knows his limitations

and does not pick a fight

he has little chance of winning.

Think on that.

So how are we doing,

exceeding your expectations?

If one could kill with mirth,

you would be a champion.

Believe me, I've tried.

It's just as ineffective.

You have two things going for you.

You are young, and you are determined.

But you are headstrong...

and quick to rush into a fray.

You must learn control.

When will we be ready to fight?

Two, maybe three years

of constant training.

Then you might survive an encounter

with a soldier of the likes stationed here.

And these men are not seasoned veterans.

If you were to go up against

a soldier from Rome,

one from the campaigns or one

with gladiatorial experience,

your prospects of survival

would diminish rapidly.

I don't have time to sit

and hide in the woods.

If you were to go up

against the Romans now,

it would be a conflict remembered

only for its brevity.

But you didn't say who'd be the victor.

Why are you in such a rush to die?

Living under the Romans,

I might as well be dead.

Teach me how to ride the chariot.

Learn the basics first.

Then we'll move to mounted combat.

Gather your men and your mercenaries.

Give me an hour.

I'll have what you need.

It's not much.

The Romans took most of the weapons

when they captured the province.

Iberian steel.

Roman steel...

the foundation of their empire.

Found in their swords

and in the nails that build

their fortifications.

The secrets of Roman tempered steel are

what allowed them to rule over so many.

My father worked the marble mines

until it was the death of him.

Many of these swords were fashioned there.

Weapons such as these

should be used as a last resort.

That's why we're training,

to kill the Romans.

No. You have been learning how to survive.

Adrian!

The Romans are in the village. They're

lining up people on the wall outside town.

They're hunting those responsible

for foiling the raid on the river camp.

Stay here, all of you. If you wish to

remain alive, refrain from following.

- But these are my people.

- You are not ready.

Lucia, stay behind.

I am the one you are looking for.

You alone were responsible?

I did hire some local sell-swords,

but they were of negligible worth.

They are no longer in my employ.

You do understand that your offense

is punishable by death?

I was hoping I might be rewarded

with a villa in Cyprus...

but I am unfamiliar

with current Roman statutes.

Good sir...

I propose we save Rome

the expense of a trial...

and the laborious process

of witnessing the machinations of justice.

In our fine province,

I propose trial by sword.

- Sir, this is rather unorthodox.

- Silence!

But he is unarmed.

His mistake.

Go ahead. Finish him.

As you wish.

Move.

- I told you to stay back.

- You should be grateful we didn't.

- If you want to live, leave now.

- You'll be killed.

That may be,

but if we all die,

who will continue the fight?

- Steady. Steady.

- We must retreat to the garrison.

- Gather reinforcements.

- You are wise.

I will engage the enemy while Kaeso

will take you back to the fort.

- Step aside.

- We do not retreat.

You may stay and fight but we must get the

Legatus back to the garrison for treatment.

I have seen many injuries in battle.

This one does not look life-threatening.

We stay and fight.

I would think again on the consequences

before disobeying a direct order

- from a Roman official.

- Orders or no...

if it were to become known that we were

defeated by one man and a band of children,

how often do you think

I'd find myself in employ?

We stay and fight, and we shall prevail.

Of this, I am certain.

Send a runner to the garrison.

We stay and fight.

It is not worth losing everything

over one life.

I want to stay and fight.

Think of your sister.

Go.

Caius!

Go. Get him to safety.

Leave now, or your friend

will have died in vain.

No! I can stay and fight.

Your death here will not

be remembered. Now go!

Go. Go! Go!

Execute him.

What is your name?

What does it matter to you?

The body may die,

yet the name may live on.

Give me your name.

My name is Judah Ben-Hur.

Well, what are you waiting for?

Execute him!

There is value in this name in Rome.

You are free to take the name.

You shall give me his head.

- This man shall not be executed today.

- You dare defy me?

This man is worth

far more alive than dead.

Take him back to the arenas in Rome,

and we will be paid tenfold

what we have been paid today.

I will execute this man myself.

I did not enter this field

to spill Roman blood...

but I guarantee that if more blood

is spilled, some of it will be Roman.

I will have your heads for this.

You will join a long list

who have uttered those words.

This is insubordination.

- How can I abide...

- Sir, hear me out.

In this matter, prudence may be best tact.

Would not there not be more glory in Rome for

us to send this captive back to the arena,

where his death can match his reputation?

That may be so, but...

if we let them leave, who will remain

to take care of the rebels who've escaped?

Pardon, sir, but speaking from experience,

the rebels you talk of are barely men...

Kaeso, when your opinion

is required, I will ask of it.

You are in my employ.

You were hired to eradicate

these rebels by any means possible.

The capture of one while many escape

is not a task taken to completion.

I doubt you'll have much trouble

finding the rest by their showing today.

This one is the only one

worthy of capture.

Sir, I am confident we can capture the

rest of these miscreants in short order,

but there may also be a way which allows

Atticus to take this Ben-Hur to Rome

while at the same time

draw out the rest of these rebels,

- if I may be so bold.

- Go on.

Allow Atticus to take this Ben-Hur

on a road well known

and seen by many

as he leaves this village.

That way, word will get back

to those who aid him.

We can set up an intercept on this

known road and take them by surprise.

Very well.

On your feet.

Which is the weaker of the sexes?

Is it the field from which the crop grows

or the one who merely plants the seed?

Is it not a more difficult job to grow

and nurture the crop for harvest,

than to lay a mere seed in the soil?

I think your soil has seen many seeds.

If you prefer your fruits attached, Dio,

I suggest you stop speaking.

Gratitude, Atticus.

I would prefer not to soil my blades.

What were we talking about?

Yes, the weaker sex.

Khutu, do you know who this is?

He is someone whom the gods do not favor.

- How 'bout you, Veleda?

- I do not know, and I do not care.

I wager in Rome we'll hear a different

answer to the name Ben-Hur.

What do you think?

In times of old, your name

was known from Judaea to Hispania.

I suspect, in Rome, many will savor

your death in the arena.

Maybe the fates will allow you to live.

It's up to the gods.

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