Spartacus (2010–2013): Season 3, Episode 8 - Separate Paths - full transcript
Spartacus gets his horde away from the ridge but lost the taste to risk huge casualties among the many weak runaways, so he resolves to flee over the Alps. Crixus however gets his blessing to take an army of volunteers, including Agron but not his gay lover Nasir, to attempt taking Rome, which is only defended by Varrius's single legion if Crassus pursues Spartacus. In the Roman camp, Crassus uses brute force against 'disloyal' senator Metellus's protest. Caesar wants Tiberius to help control his father's dangerous temper, but threatening to expose Kore's fate fails when Tiberius personally submits Caesar to anal rape. Crixus's battle goes well, until they are surprised and crushed by Crassus's legions, after which Crixus's head is severed by Tiberius's sword.
---
We shall see Roman blood
upon fucking snow!
I will not march my people
to the afterlife.
And I will not die with
a Roman sword in my back.
I have warned you to stay
far from men of my kind.
You have known pain and loss.
A misfortune shared
by many among us.
Hold command beneath Tiberius.
Not a boy prone
to losing his sword.
Here we stand,
you beneath heel.
I am to remain in Sinuessa?
In this very villa.
Beneath Tiberius.
I know how much
he cares for you.
She was desperate to break
word with your father.
What concerns so move her?
Ah, that is the mystery.
Was my slave escorted
back to Sinuessa?
She has moved
to join the rebellion.
The rebels have
breached the wall.
We must fall back!
The mighty Crassus
flees from us!
He will return.
Spartacus!
Romans set again
upon rear position!
Crixus!
Is that all Rome has
to offer this day?!
I have not yet had
my fill of blood!
Crassus lays assault
twice upon a day.
Yet with but a handful of men.
He seeks but time
for his legions
to narrow gap between us,
knowing we will slow to protect
those weakest among us.
A strategy taking firmest hold.
Tell your gods that
Crixus pisses upon them.
Crixus.
I would break words while
he is yet of this world.
How many days march does Crassus
find himself to our backs?
Stroke cock, you fucking slave!
See his tongue
made more agreeable.
Four days!
Four days!
Four days.
Please.
Gather weapons,
and rejoin march.
I gave what was asked!
I beg of you, spare my life!
You beg the wrong man.
Gone to grass three days past,
by rot and stench.
We gained another day
on Spartacus.
Halt!
Is it a wonder?
The men have barely
rested since Melia Ridge.
Nor will they find
such this night.
Give command to second legion
to fall from rest,
and continue pursuit in advance
of fullest number.
You push them too hard.
Now is not the time for gentle
words nor soft intent.
I harden towards
future conflict.
Yet a legion on
the brink of collapse
is ill thought towards
Spartacus and his army.
Any within ranks unable
to keep pace
shall be struck down
where they stand.
Was decimation not
threat enough --
I will not let him slip
from fucking grasp!
Imperator.
Senator Metellus
demands audience.
Metellus?
You dispatch me to Rome to crow
of the inevitable fall
of Spartacus upon Melia Ridge,
only to have recent news
brand me overreaching fool!
I find your tone displeasing.
As I find of many things
swirling about failed campaign.
Spartacus but prolongs his end.
Return to Rome
and deliver message.
I am a Senator of the Republic!
Not fucking message boy
to deliver
yet more tidings
of imagined victories.
You stand what I deem necessary.
Or has our arrangement
slipped from mind?
Keep promise of villa
in Sinuessa
and purse lined with
the coin of taxes!
Association with
the name of Crassus
will only serve
to further taint my own.
Nothing has fallen to change.
I shall grind Spartacus
and his rebellion beneath heel,
as I have promised.
Lofty words coming from a man
whose most trusted slave
is said to have fled
to join the rebel king --
Stay from argument.
You have lost fucking mind!
I will see the Senate
cast you out
for laying hands upon
honored member --
You...
will do...
as I...
fucking...
command!
Marcus.
Return to Rome.
Speak of this,
or any word against me...
and I shall devote
fortune towards your death
in darkness of night.
See him upon his horse.
And second legion set to purpose
towards Spartacus.
Give word to stand ready
to move upon a moments notice.
We must not fall
to sense of comfort.
I do not favor
fleeing like rabbits
at imagined footfall of hunter.
Nor I.
Yet we must stay
in advance of Crassus
until numbers are replenished.
A wise path.
Though one paved with Roman
heads fucking preferred.
We shall find our own upon it,
if we fall from caution.
A word once unfamiliar
upon your tongue.
Spoken now with thought towards
those less able among us.
And yet they devour as much
as any man of sword or spear.
He is not wrong in this.
Supplies are nearly spent.
Soon hunger will
again be upon us,
weighing each step.
Gannicus.
Gather Lugo and scout ahead.
I would know of any opportunity
towards grain or meat.
We cannot run for an eternity.
One day soon we will once again
have to stand and fight.
One day.
You know he holds right in this.
No ground held is certain,
in times of war.
Is it possible?
To slip from jaws
of Crassus yet again?
I will not see you
caught between them.
I have been overreaching
in my efforts,
and would share.
If you are of a mind...?
Fuck!
See fire to life.
And know my eyes are upon you.
His stare yet holds
the promise of violence.
Continue to prove yourself
against the Romans,
and see it soften.
The man need not fall
to worry in such regard.
Yet in matters nearer the heart,
his concerns are well founded.
Rid yourself of them.
And break no more upon subject.
If you had laughed
carelessly at my words,
I would have known
feelings misplaced.
Yet you froth and foam,
showing they strike
reflective chord.
You mistake reflection
for your own.
And do I mistake your eyes
stealing glance as I pass?
Or breath from lips catching
when I draw near?
I had feared night
spent beneath open sky.
Gratitude.
A thing of little note.
Little?
It was but short time past
you would have found joy
in my suffering.
Do not think me so far
removed from thought.
Then why offer hand?
I offer it towards Spartacus.
It baffles fucking sense,
yet he appears to carry
affection towards you.
I-I've have not the words --
Nor I desire to hear them.
Spartacus has sacrificed much
in this life.
He deserves some small measure
of happiness in return.
As so many are owed.
Apologies.
I am in need of aid.
You must bear down.
As hard as you are able.
Again.
I cannot.
Calm yourself.
And do as instructed.
The Bringer of Rain...
If you wish to live,
bear down. Now.
Blade. Quickly.
You are blessed with a son.
Look at the cock on this one,
dangling as if from
Jupiter himself!
I pray he uses it only
upon the willing.
He is fortunate to have
such skilled hands
to bring him into this world.
You have done this before?
Many times,
for those owned by my dominus.
I wonder if I might
have known of him.
What name did he carry?
Pompo.
A raiser of low animals
near Campania --
She speaks of Pompo.
Yet mark upon her arm tells
of a different master...
You were slave
to Marcus Crassus himself?
I was.
Another spy,
sent to infiltrate rank.
What manner of spy
pauses in deceit
to give aid in child's birth?
One sent by the man trying
to end our fucking lives!
He did not send me.
I fled his tent
upon the Melia Ridge.
Why did you turn from him,
in favor of cold and storm?
Break word.
Or find yourself forever unable.
The girl is fugitivus
as many among you,
regardless of which
dominus she fled.
She deserves protection,
not veiled threats.
I hide behind no veils.
Nor shall any bearing
mark of my enemy.
Crassus himself has
seen no harm to me.
Yet name of honored son
inflicted grievous injury.
And would have
continued to do so.
My wife stood
equally mistreated,
by those that called
themselves her masters.
She's your responsibility.
See her provided for.
And know if her tale
falls from truth,
then her life shall
swiftly follow.
Gratitude.
I hold concern in this.
Laeta breaks truth
in the matter.
We cannot turn from any
slave wishing freedom.
Then let her be free to starve
with the rest of us.
See all readied before
you take sleep.
We follow second legion
at first light.
I do not recall
commanding your presence.
Recent events spur initiative.
Fall from sight.
I am of a concern.
Towards your father.
What are the lay
of your thoughts?
Fitful.
His manner since Melia Ridge
has been...
unsettling.
He but commands with firm hand.
Clenched into fist
striking ally.
Metellus spoke out of turn.
He is a fool,
you will find no argument.
Yet one that stands a fucking
Senator of the Republic.
As does my father.
Whose reply far outweighed
balance of insult.
Especially for a man
who prides himself
on appearance of control.
We are at war, Tiberius.
Against an enemy
that will exploit
even the slightest weakness,
and bring us all to our doom.
Tread path of more direct route,
and arrive at point.
Beloved son has regained
favor of his father.
Measured counsel spilling
from your mouth
may yet again fill
him with reason.
And dispel troubled
thought of Kore escaping --
The fucking cock
between your legs!
That is why you
have come to me.
To calm storm
of his wrath before
you are swept away in downpour.
You mistake intent --
Were you not the one who defied
command to spirit Kore
to Melia Ridge?
Giving her opportunity
to betray him?
She pleaded with
tears upon cheek,
to break words with your father
about his fucking son.
A simple ruse,
one imagined to make
escape upon Melia Ridge
to join the rebels.
Oh I believe there to be ruse.
Yet not one formed
by mind of loving slave.
What did you do to her, boy,
to make her flee?
Did you force that
tiny cock inside her --
You fucking overstep, Tribune!
Many times each day.
Yet in this,
we both know I do not.
I will uncover the truth
of what you have done.
And your father will
fall again to reason...
when wounded heart
is balmed by knowledge that
Kore is not the one
who has betrayed him.
The child is born into
a life of piss and shit.
He is free.
As so many among us.
As I stand now, because of you.
I wish you blessed with
more than just a word.
An endless bounty of food.
And a proper home to keep
you warm on coldest night.
Perhaps even a child
of our own upon a day...
Yet I have not had the strength
to provide you with any of this.
Your strength saw me
from the mines.
Guided me from the shadows,
returning life to faded shell.
A life stained
with blood and battle.
My path has been chosen.
Not by the fates.
Not by the gods themselves.
I choose to walk by your side,
in this life
and the one that follows.
Until we find ourselves
upon its shores...
I desire only to send
more fucking Romans
there before us.
I do not deserve
a woman such as you.
You are the only man
who truly does.
Crixus.
Gannicus and Lugo return.
Spartacus would have words.
They have laid eyes
upon a valley.
Twenty or more villas
nestled within.
Bounty of cattle
and goat grazing lands.
Then let us fall upon them,
and see the blood
of beasts and Romans
mingle beneath night's moon.
And upon dawn's break,
I would press north.
Towards rise of the Alps.
You would set up camp
upon the mountains?
No.
I would cross them.
And upon other side,
see our people to the winds.
Has he at last gone
fucking mad?
Crassus pursues a single army,
easily tracked.
Thousands of slaves running free
beyond lands of the Republic...?
Not even he has resource
enough to find so many
scattered across foreign soil.
All that we have done.
All that has been lost.
It will stand for nothing,
if we now turn and flee.
If we stay, Crassus will
again be upon us and --
Let them come.
We have bested them before.
And perhaps we may again.
But at what cost?
How many more among
us will fall?
How many woman,
unable to raise arms?
Or children, new to this world?
I would have them free.
Absent darkening shadow
of the Republic.
Well, then let us
pierce its heart,
and see shadow forever lifted.
Crassus' army pushes
from the south.
If we were to turn west we
would be at the gates of Rome
before his legions could
turn to defend the city.
You would strike
at Rome itself?
And would see it tremble.
As the man you once
were thundered
when Batiatus fell.
Leave us.
You know that I hold
higher ground on this.
How many Romans have
we seen to the afterlife?
The Republic quakes
at the name of Spartacus
and his army of slaves.
We have but nipped
at the ankle of the beast.
To bare teeth
at its throat, I...
I now fear the reprisal.
The Bringer of Rain?
The Slayer of the Shadow
of Death? Afraid?
Not for myself, no.
But my concerns have grown
far beyond such.
I grow tired of running.
Then rest.
With Naevia at your side.
No, she does not want
to turn from cause.
Nor I.
Until Rome falls
beneath our feet.
You would have us march
to our end.
I would have us free.
Truly free.
Do you really believe
that Crassus will stop
once you crest the mountains?
That the Republic will
let us quietly slip away?
We have shown them vulnerable.
We have shown them
that a trembling hand
can become a fist.
We have challenged the idea
that a slave must
always know his place,
accepting rod and lash because
he was taught to accept it.
We built their mighty Republic.
With our hands
and our blood and our lives.
And we can see it fall,
at equal cost.
You opened my eyes to this,
Spartacus.
Do not ask me now
to close them.
It was simpler between us.
When the bond stood
only as hate.
Those days are sadly past.
With or without you,
I shall march upon Rome.
With those who share
desire for vengeance.
We have fought for the choice
to forge our own path.
I will no longer stand
in the way of yours.
At the break of dawn then.
We shall at last part ways.
Crixus.
There is one final thing
I would ask of you.
The valley is taken!
Let us share
in the spoils of war!
And hold feast for Crixus,
and those who follow
the Undefeated Gaul!
? Blood rains down
from an angry sky, ?
? my cock rages on! ?
? My cock rages on... ?
? Blood rains down
from an angry sky ?
? My cock rages on ?
? My cock rages on ?
? Blood rains down
from an angry sky ?
? My cock rages on ?
? My cock rages on ?
It burns throat.
As does all proper drink.
Perhaps you should
hold with water
and more purer thoughts.
Or perhaps you
should get another.
This one's gone empty...
Recall when head pounds
upon morning
but I but follow command.
You are with little thing, now?
Apologies.
I did not wish to see
heart wounded.
You will ruin little thing with
drink and ways of your kind.
And you again will find my bed.
You do not share in drink?
I would have clear head.
When sun breaks,
and Crixus strikes for Rome.
I have often been
at cross purpose with the Gaul.
Yet his fucking
presence shall be missed.
I shall not feel
the sting of it.
You yet hate the man?
I will not miss his presence...
Because I shall not be from it.
You turn from Spartacus
to march with Crixus?
Spartacus stands as a brother.
Yet in this we are not
of like mind.
There is no life for me
beyond the Alps.
I am no shepherd
nor tiller of land.
Blood and battle are
all I have ever known.
It is settled then.
Tomorrow we move
for Rome with Crixus.
To hear such words
lifts spirit.
Yet I would have
you take with Spartacus.
My place is forever with you.
Not in this.
You once swore
the gods themselves
could not wrest me
from your arms.
And now you fucking
cast me aside?
My heart will never
beat for another.
Yet it would seize
within chest,
if I were to drag
you to your doom.
I am a warrior.
One I am most proud of.
Set skills to aiding Spartacus,
and see those less able
to true freedom.
Do not ask me to turn from you.
I ask only that you live.
And wrest what joy
that yet may be found
in the remaining days.
Crixus.
I would break words.
They will fall
upon hardest stone,
if they seek to alter mind.
I would seek to share drink.
With a man most worthy.
A sentiment not always held.
Nor always deserved.
By either of us.
I've been known to be contrary,
upon occasion.
A talent among many
that I best you in.
It is a wonder.
We have not yet
killed each other.
Would that we could
reverse the years,
towards better footing.
I would not see it different.
We have done the impossible.
Seen the House of Batiatus
to ruin.
Laid waste to
the arena of Capua.
Defeated Glaber and all of
the Roman hordes who followed.
Restored heart torn from chest.
If you and I had taken
to loving arms,
fate may have led us
on a less glorious path.
Batiatus once warned me that
a man must accept his fate --
-- or will be destroyed by it.
The fucking cunt
said that to everyone.
I pray that yours
holds all you desire.
And that one day we can greet
each other again in this life.
Roman blood!
Does it cause pain?
All wounds heal upon a day.
Though I fear injury
delivered to Metellus
may never cease to fester.
For all his remaining days,
Metellus will fear
the name Marcus Crassus.
Times those beneath us must
be struck severest blow.
To truly grasp how
we tower above them.
And to ensure they
never betray us.
A lesson well
learned by Metellus.
Perhaps if Kore had been
given similar instruction --
Do not form sound of her name.
Apologies.
It tears heart to know
how deeply she wounded you.
I gave all that I could.
Treated her as if word
of slave held no meaning.
Why would she risk all
to fly from loving arms?
I hold myself to blame.
What did your hands do
to cause such a thing?
It is what they did not.
I knew Caesar
to be untrustworthy.
If I had laid closer
eye upon him,
he would not have been able
to see her to the ridge...
and allowed
opportunity of escape.
Caesar is of wild mind.
Yet I do not believe
he knew her thoughts in this.
And I believe that great
power is accompanied
by many burdens, father.
Knowing whom to trust
paramount among them.
Wisdom well received.
You are certain of this?
I have for heavy span been
pulled in opposing direction.
A thing I have noted.
Gratitude for standing
by my words,
even when you did not
believe in them.
I believed in the man.
And always shall.
Agron.
I hope you find what you seek.
And you some measure of comfort,
despite all that has happened.
No one is more deserving
of it, brother.
Where is Kore?
Wrapped in arms
of relieved slumber.
And filled with gratitude
that she yet draws breath.
A kindness moved
by your tongue.
One I did not expect
to make sound
towards life of a slave.
I mistreated none
within my house,
when I was yet called domina.
Yet you held them
as possessions.
Things to be bought and traded.
As I was by Crassus himself,
or have you forgotten --
You have suffered
but briefest moment
of that which so many
have only ever known.
You desire to compare wounds?
Let us weigh them,
and judge balance.
Your wounds must
be all but healed.
You return to difficult
woman of old.
We cannot turn
from truest nature.
No.
We cannot.
Rejoin celebration.
Hard journey awaits
at dawn's break.
I have had my fill of wine.
And company less desired...
You yet stand Roman.
A thing I can never
hold to heart.
It is not your heart
I'm after this night...
It seems but yesterday you
stood as opened-mouthed Gaul,
anxious to prove
yourself in the arena.
Now thousands gladly follow you,
lay assault upon Rome itself.
I would hold it as a blessing
from Jupiter himself,
if you would join with us.
My journey leads
toward other path.
There is no greater cause,
to turn a man from battle.
Do we stand ready?
Upon your command,
we move for Rome.
A decision I yet hold
in grievous doubt.
Yet if I believed in the gods,
I would split heavens
in prayer that I was mistaken.
And I would give my all
to prove you yet the fool.
Shoulder supplies!
We move north for the mountains!
Spartacus...
When we were yet
of Batiatus' ludus,
I spoke of how we may
have been as brothers,
in another life.
Yet not in this one.
Know that I was wrong.
And will always
hold you as such.
As I will hold you.
Spartacus divides his forces?
The larger sum striking
north towards the mountains.
Their numbers weighted
by women and children.
The remainder?
What course do they take?
West.
Towards Rome?
What path would you
have us follow?
There is but one.
The city must be defended.
Others will give
resistance upon way.
And Arrius and his legion
hold position beyond its gates.
A single legion will give
Spartacus briefest pause.
Spartacus does not
command western forces,
upon sighting of exodus.
His pet Gaul leads assault.
Crixus?
A man of equal skill.
And deadlier passion.
Not the Bringer of Fucking Rain.
We cannot leave Rome undefended.
Arrius will slow
Crixus' advance,
granting needed time to set upon
Spartacus and weakened numbers.
We must press advantage.
Follow advice of this child,
and Rome herself may fall.
And with her everything
we have fucking reached for.
I have had fill
of you questioning
every word that falls
from my tongue.
Then break them with
more fucking sense.
We cannot turn from Rome.
We shall turn in whatever
direction my father decides.
Then aid him in proper choice.
Not one you believe
he seeks to hear.
I follow my own desires.
As you did when you forced
yourself upon Kore,
the night your father
reclaimed Sinuessa?
I warned you that your deed
would fall to discovery.
You would fabricate lies now,
to see me lessened --
The game is over, boy.
The whore Canthara tells
of how she saw you
come from Kore's tent.
Of finding her roughly used.
She was made to promise
never to reveal
what her eyes laid upon.
But I can be very,
very persuasive.
You risk all on
the tale of a woman
who swallows cock for coin?
I have made more
uncertain wagers,
in years past.
And yet here I stand.
Then why have you not
yet told him?
He has been pushed to brink
of madness by imagined betrayal.
I would not see him forced
over precipice by truth
of harsher realities.
What would you have of me?
What you have
already been asked.
You have your father's ear.
Bring him to reason,
breaking words as
I command them --
I do not take command from you!
You should have
accepted offer, boy.
Your father nearly saw you
to end in decimation.
Perhaps he shall
see fate to completion
when he hears what
you have done --
Seize him!
Get up!
You shall never lay
hands upon me again.
Nor whisper lies against me.
You cannot take my life
and see my body
from encampment absent notice.
I am Julius Fucking Caesar --
Hold him against table.
You are of same
cloth as Metellus.
And must be taught
severest lesson
in who towers above you...
Speak of what
you know to anyone...
and I shall spin tale
of the mighty Caesar...
taken like a woman...
The day is ours.
When is it fucking not?!
Prepare to march.
There is one battle
yet remaining.
Rome at last lies
within our grasp!
One last legion led
by the fool Arrius
is all that stands between us...
and a victory
that shall become legend!
A lifetime ago when I yet
stood beneath the roof
of the House of Batiatus...
my doctore Oenomaus
demanded answer
from those recruits
who sought glory
upon the sands of the arena.
"What lies beneath your feet?!"
Sacred ground!
Watered with tears of blood!
And this day...
it shall be Rome who sheds them!
Shall we begin?!
SHALL WE BEGIN?!
SHALL WE BEGIN?!!!
Bring fire forth.
Halt!
Shields!
Raise your fucking shields!
Rear position stands
absent threat.
Pray it remains so.
Our numbers stand
ill match absent Crixus
and those who follow him,
if Crassus were to set upon us.
Arrius has fallen!
You stand as a fucking god.
With Rome trembling before you.
As Spartacus once promised.
Give report.
The men stand ready, Imperator.
Caesar.
How have you come
to be so rudely handled?
I found myself
in shameful altercation.
It shall not happen again.
And reason you
not astride horse?
I gave command for him to lead
charge upon foot, Imperator.
To rally the common men
that hold him
in such high regard.
Let us see this to proper end,
and return to pursuit
of Spartacus.
They will attempt
to overrun position!
Let them think
they have succeeded,
and fall upon them
from our flanks!
You are the undefeated Gaul.
Let us show them
how such name was earned.
Sound horns!
Bring spear and sword to bear!
And fall upon them all.
Send them to
the fucking afterlife!
Father!
Fall back and re-form
upon higher advantage!
Drink my fucking piss,
you Roman cunts --
Caesar!
Their eastern flank
has been broken!
Advance!
There are too many.
If Crassus falls,
we may yet seize fucking day!
Crixus!
No!
I would not have you so easily
leave from this world, Gaius.
Crixus!
Silence that fucking bitch.
Hold!
This is the Gaul that would
seek the fall of Rome?
And his fucking woman.
Defeated by my hand.
Retrieve your sword.
It has been too long
from proper hands.
The man yet lives.
I shall see him crucified --
No.
I would use opportunity
to send message to Spartacus.
So that he may know
the depths of his failure.
And what fate I shall
see him to as well.
Take his head.