Spartacus

In 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 of the dictator

was at hand...

waiting in the shadows

for the event to bring it forth.

In 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...

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

fiit 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!

- Thank you.

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 profiit 11,000 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 fiind.

No one else could have made

so fiine a choice.

Slaves...

you have arrived at the gladiatorial

school of Lentulus Batiatus.

Here you will be trained by experts

to fiight in pairs to the death.

Obviously, you won't be required

to fiight 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 fiine 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...

Iive for fiive, 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.

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 l.

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 fiirst...

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 of thing.

All right, bring them in.

No talking!

Move along there.

Did they hurt you?

No.

That's a kill.

One, two...

three, four, fiive.

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