The Last Days of Pompeii Page #7

- Drusus, listen.

- He's Flavius!

- You're mistaken.

I've seen him with his father,

the man who sends us to the arena.

- Deny it.

- He's the son of Marcus.

- He can't deny it. Can you?

- Friend?

No. I am Flavius, son of Marcus.

- We're lost.

- Death!

- Let me explain. Please-

- Spy, traitor!

Listen to me!

Clodia, am I a spy? Do you believe it?

No, he's not a spy.

Phoebus, he saved your life.

- Yes.

- Apelles, he brought you here.

- I know.

- You know the penalty...

...for helping slaves escape.

He's risked his life every day.

- How can he be a traitor?

- Don't believe him.

- Filthy spy!

- Listen to me.

No torture could make me betray you.

I'm no longer the son of Marcus

I'm one of you now.

We'll escape together. The ship is ready.

Tomorrow we'll be free.

Free.

- A beautiful day, Leaster.

- Yes, master.

The whole town is streaming toward

the arena. Isn't it time you started?

Yes.

See how Vesuvius is smoking.

The old mountain hasn't looked like that

in the memory of man.

A special portent for your games, master.

I quarrelled with Flavius

last night, Leaster.

I should have reasoned with him,

not lost my temper.

I was too hasty.

- I want to tell him so. Send him to me.

- He's not here.

- Gone out already? Where?

-I-- I don't know.

- When did he go?

- Master, I...

His bed is undisturbed.

He must have left the house last night.

- And not come back?

- Not yet.

- It's not possible he'd leave like that.

- Something may have happened.

No.

He thinks I am still in a rage.

That's it, Leaster. He's giving me

a chance to cool down.

- He'll be back.

- Marcus!

Marcus! Good news.

A message from the prefect.

The whole company of runaway slaves

was captured.

- They tried to escape by sea.

- How many?

- About two score.

- Here's a real stroke of luck.

Pompeii will see something today.

- This will be a real show.

- Master-

This has more meaning

than old Vesuvius smoking.

- I trust they're good fighting men.

- A fine, hardy lot, the message said.

- Good.

- Who are captured?

Who? You don't suppose

I know their names, do you?

- Master-

- Leaster, order my chariot.

Rejoice today. The omens are all good.

Jupiter is pleased and favours you...

...his people of Pompeii.

Happy the people for whom

the great prefect provides such games.

Be not afraid of gods'

or man's displeasure.

Today is yours. On to the games!

Hail, Titus.

Marcus. Have you heard of the capture

of the runaway slaves?

Of course, fortune favours us.

Don't be late for the games.

- This is where your leader brought us.

- Into a trap.

- I'm trapped too.

- Pretending to be one of us.

- Your father knows you're here

- He'll be released.

- Yes, he'll sit and watch us die.

- I tell you, no one knows I'm here.

You'll believe me when

I stand beside you in the arena.

Take the women out.

- Come on.

- No.

- Come.

- No, I'll stay with him.

The men are going to the arena.

What good are women in a battle?

- Go, Clodia.

- Don't make me leave you.

Remember this,

if we had a lifetime together.

-...I couldn't love you more.

- What's the trouble? Come on.

I see it's not the custom in Pompeii

to applaud the prefect.

That's only because

they don't know you yet.

- Was he captured?

- Yes, tell his father.

It's Marcus!

- Hail, Marcus!

- Hail, Marcus!

Really, one might suppose that

you were paying for the games.

The people know I can amuse them.

They are not so hearty to those

who merely govern them.

Tell me, does all this applause

cost you much?

Oh, no, Excellency. It's spontaneous.

How pleasant for you.

- Well, what is it?

- Master, Flavius.

- What's happened?

- He's with the slaves.

- They caught him helping them escape.

- What? Blind, reckless folly!

- Why, it's a capital crime-

-it's the death penalty. The law of Rome.

Your indulgence, Excellency.

- Well, is everything ready to begin?

- There is some difficulty.

If you'll have patience for

a few moments, I'll return at once.

- Master.

- I'll get him out.

Flavius, what have you done?

Why didn't you send for me?

- You can't do anything.

- I'll get you out.

- No, these men must die.

- It's the law of Rome that condemns them.

- It condemns me too. Goodbye, Father.

- No, the warder shall release you.

Why doesn't Marcus return?

Really, this is a poor way to

gain the favour of the people.

I can't understand the

reason for the delay.

I came to see fighting. Is Marcus

trying to make a fool of you?

He takes too much upon himself. Give a

signal for the slaves to be driven out.

Let the games begin.

The young man there, he's no slave.

Release him.

- No slave? How did he get here?

- Don't waste time, release him.

- You'll have 100 gold pieces.

- They're numbered. If one is missing-

- Five hundred!

- I can't.

A thousand. Release him, I say.

He's my son.

I have a son too. I can't risk my life.

I am head of the arena

I order you, release him.

I dare not.

Ready there, your turn next.

Quick, march!

Forgive me.

Stop. You there, stop!

- What?

- Don't take my son.

- Are you crazy?

- I'm Marcus, head of the arena.

- Leave my son.

- I don't take orders from you.

That's my son. There, that one.

Don't take him. I'll stop the games!

No one but the prefect

can stop the games.

The prefect says men who fight and come

out alive will be set free, tell them.

- Hail, Marcus.

- Let me through.

Why should we fight?

There's no chance.

Do you want to be flogged

or die fighting like a man?

- I stand beside you.

- You believe me now.

- Stop the games.

- Are you mad?

- My son is there. There among the slaves.

- Why is he there?

He was captured with the others.

- Helping them escape?

- He's reckless, young. Stop them!

He's committed a crime,

struck at Rome.

- He's my son.

- So at your command...

-...the law of Rome should be set aside.

- He will be killed.

If he were my own son,

I could not do it.

People of Pompeii, I appeal to you.

My son is there!

Save him.

Demand the games be stopped!

My son, they'll kill him!

Citizens, I've given you games!

You cheered me!

This one thing, stop the games!

Flavius! Flavius!

Flavius, my son!

To the public treasury!

The keys! Unlock the door.

- Let go!

- Let them out!

Let go, old man!

Flavius!

Keep back!

- Quickly, up!

- Let us save ourselves.

Yes and we'll save Marcus' gold too.

Let us escape.

I'll lead you to a ship,

but not without Marcus' gold.

Marcus! Here, with me!

Flavius...

...my son.

My son.

My son.

My son.

Help him!

The warder.

Help him.

You ask my help.

You who could have

let my son go free!

Marcus, Marcus.

Have mercy on my son.

Have mercy on your--

I cried that once...

...and he heard me.

Marcus, here's your money.

Quick, to your own wharf.

- We'll get it on the boat.

- Throw it away.

- What? Why, that's your treasure.

- Throw it in the street.

Pick up the wounded.

Save all you can.

Get them to the boat at my wharf.

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