William Nicholson

Why love, if losing hurts so much? I have no answers anymore: only the life I have lived. Twice in that life I've been given the choice: as a boy and as a man. The boy chose safety, the man chooses suffering. The pain now is part of the happiness then. That's the deal.

Will you marry this foolish, frightened old man… who needs you more than he can bear to say… who loves you, even though he hardly knows how?

I've always found this a trying time of the year. The leaves not yet out. Mud everywhere you go. Frosty mornings gone. Sunny mornings not yet come. Give me blizzards and frozen pipes, but not this, nothing time. Not this, waiting room of the world.

I love you, Joy. I love you so much. You made me so happy. I didn't know I could be so happy.

You know, I don't want to be somewhere else anymore. I'm not waiting for anything new to happen… not looking around the next corner and over the next hill. I'm here now. That's enough.

Let me ask you, when you look at me, what is it that you see? Do you see a creature that's barely alive? Or do you see a man that's escaped the confines of the hospital wards? Now, I have a machine under this very seat, and it breathes for me. And at home, I have a ventilator by my bed. I also have a remarkable group of friends. And most vitally I have my wife. But, as you see, I can do nothing for myself. And yet here I am. When I first became paralysed, I wanted to die. Yeah, I wanted to die, I did. But my wife wouldn't let me. She told me I had to live. To see our son grow up. So I went on living… because she told me to. Because of her, really. And with her. And for her. And every day since then, I've accepted the risk of dying because I don't want to just survive. I want to truly live. So, I implore you, you go back to your hospitals and you tell your disabled patients that they too can truly live. You all have this power to open the gates and set them free.

Just think, all those affairs I could have had.

It's not too late for you.

That would rather spoil the party, wouldn't it?

Yes, and he's the Director of the Disability Research Foundation.

Yes, and made himself director.

Goes five miles an hour. With a strong wind behind you.

Believe me, ladies, my distress is far greater than yours.

Diana, call the police. Tell them I'm being held against my will.

Why do you keep your disabled people in prisons?

Those giraffes you sold me, they won't mate. They just walk around, eating, and not mating. You sold me… queer giraffes. I want my money back.

Listen to me. Learn from me. I was not the best because I killed quickly. I was the best because the crowd loved me. Win the crowd and you will win your freedom.

Ultimately, we're all dead men. Sadly, we cannot choose how but, what we can decide is how we meet that end, in order that we are remembered, as men.

I am Proximo! I shall be closer to you for the next few days, which will be the last of your miserable lives, than that bitch of a mother who first brought you screaming into this world! I did not pay good money for your company. I paid it so that I might profit from your death. And just as your mother was there at your beginning, I shall be there at your end. And when you die - and die you shall - your transition will be to the sound of...

Gladiators… I salute you.

So Spaniard, we shall go to Rome together and have bloody adventures. And the great whore will suckle us until we are fat and happy and can suckle no more. And then, when enough men have died, perhaps you will have your freedom.

That's enough for the provinces, but not for Rome. The young emperor has arranged a series of spectacles to commemorate his father, Marcus Aurelius. I find that amusing since it Marcus Aurelius, the wise, the all-knowing Marcus Aurelius, that closed us down. So, finally after five years of scratching a living in flea-infested villages, we're finally going back to where we belong. The coliseum. Oh, you should see the coliseum, Spaniard. Fifty-thousand Romans. Watching every movement of your sword. Willing you to make that killer blow. The silence before you strike. And the noise afterwards. It rises. It rises up like - like the - like a storm. As if you were the Thundergod himself.

So, Spaniard. We shall go to Rome together and have bloody adventures. And a great whore will suckle us until we are fat and happy and can suckle no more. And then, when enough men have died, perhaps you will have your freedom. Here, use this.

I know that you are a man of your word, General. I know that you would die for honor, for Rome, for the memory of your ancestors. But as for me? I'm an entertainer.

Rise. Rise. Your fame is well deserved, Spaniard. I don't think there's ever been a gladiator to match you. As for this young man, he insists you are Hector reborn. Or was it Hercules? Why doesn't the hero reveal himself and tell us all your real name? You do have a name.

The general who became a slave. The slave who became a gladiator. The gladiator who defied an emperor. Striking story! But now, the people want to know how the story ends. Only a famous death will do. And what could be more glorious than to challenge the Emperor himself in the great arena?

You wrote to me once, listing the four chief virtues: Wisdom, justice, fortitude and temperance. As I read the list, I knew I had none of them. But I have other virtues, father. Ambition. That can be a virtue when it drives us to excel. Resourcefulness, courage, perhaps not on the battlefield, but… there are many forms of courage. Devotion, to my family and to you. But none of my virtues were on your list. Even then it was as if you didn't want me for your son.

I search the faces of the gods... for ways to please you, to make you proud. One kind word, one full hug... where you pressed me to your chest and held me tight. Would have been like the sun on my heart for a thousand years. What is it in me that you hate so much?

If you're very good, tomorrow night I'll tell you the story of emperor Claudius who was betrayed by those closest to him, by his own blood. They whispered in dark corners and went out late at night and conspired and conspired but the emperor Claudius knew they were up to something. He knew they were busy little bees. And one night he sat down with one of them and he looked at her and he said, "Tell me what you've been doing busy little bee or I shall strike down those dearest to you. You shall watch as I bathe in their blood." And the emperor was heartbroken. The little bee had wounded him more deeply than anyone else could ever have done. And what do you think happened then, Lucius?

Lucius will stay with me now. And if his mother so much as looks at me in a manner that displeases me, he will die. If she decides to be noble and takes her own life, he will die.

And as for you, you will love me as I loved you. You will provide me with an heir of pure blood, so that Commodus and his progeny will rule for a thousand years. Am I not merciful?

And now they love Maximus for his mercy. So I can't just kill him, or it makes me even more unmerciful! The whole thing's like some crazed nightmare.

It's a dream, a frightful dream… life is…

My name is Gladiator.

My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions and loyal servant to the TRUE emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.

Fratres! Three weeks from now, I will be harvesting my crops. Imagine where you will be, and it will be so. Hold the line! Stay with me! If you find yourself alone, riding in the green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled. For you are in Elysium, and you're already dead! Brothers, what we do in life… echoes in eternity.

I knew a man once who said, "Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back."

You must know. He was your father.

Strength and honor.

Five thousand of my men are out there in the freezing mud. Three thousand of them are bloodied and cleaved. Two thousand will never leave this place. I will not believe that they fought and died for nothing.

Ancestors, I ask you for your guidance. Blessed mother, come to me with the Gods' desire for my future. Blessed father, watch over my wife and son with a ready sword. Whisper to them that I live only to hold them again, for all else is dust and air. Ancestors, I honor you and will try to live with the dignity that you have taught me.

Quintus! Release my men. Senator Gracchus is to be reinstated. There was a dream that was Rome. It shall be realized. These are the wishes of Marcus Aurelius.