Previously on The Borgias...
You will choose a bride in Spain
and you will become the Borgia
I always hoped you would be.
I propose we use the weapon the Borgia family uses.
Cantarella.
Too much, and it will kill you.
Just enough, and it will make you strong.
Dedicate yourself to the renewal of Christendom.
To the destruction of the red whore of Rome!
There is a new order in Florence.
Savonarola virtually controls the city.
He must be silenced.
We would have Caterina Sforza come to Rome and kneel at our feet.
The Pope would request your presence at the chair of St Peter's.
Whom does your mother bow to, my son?
Nobody.
You refuse to come to Rome?
She shared her bed with me.
Did she beg to be friends with us?
No, she remains an enemy.
Release me from my cardinal's robes, give me the papal army,
and I will bring you Caterina Sforza in chains!
I will not marry. Never again.
It is a daughter's duty to marry her father's choice!
So I am to have no voice in the matter!
Like me, you have just declared a war.
- Which one is the suitor? - Calvino Pallavicini from Genova.
And, behind him, in the brown and grey. Who is he?
His brother, Raffaello.
Your brother's coming home with a party of conquistadores.
You must embrace him for me while I attend to the Church's business
back in Florence.
The most respected Duke of Gandia, Juan Borgia!
- Holy Father. - My son.
A gift!
What is that?
This, dear sister,
is a gift for you like no other.
For me?
It's called a panther.
Are such beasts common in Spain?
Not any more.
Take the baby.
And who is this?
May I present Don Hernando De Caballos.
Don Hernando is a true conquistador.
He has travelled to the New World
where he brought the word of God to the heathen he found there.
He was also at the siege of Granada where they defeated the Moor.
Good. We have a siege in mind.
Holiness.
So, now to our gift.
What have we here?
Turds?
You travel all the way to our ancestral homeland and back again
to bring us turds?
Smell them.
Why should we smell a turd?
They are called cigarros.
They are an exotic creation from the New World.
I will happily demonstrate at your Holiness's leisure.
It bit me!
It could have eaten my hand!
Give up your vanities!
- They're here! Quick! - Hide your valuables!
Get inside. I told you! Come quickly!
Come along!
Give up your gold!
Your Eminence. Come.
Save yourselves!
Bring it out! Bring it out!
What is this, Signor Machiavelli?
God's children.
Savonarola's vermin.
I feel a sudden chill.
Give up your vanities!
Hell is eternal!
So, we take a turd in our hand.
Cigarro.
Yes, cigarro. Then what?
You put it in your mouth.
What?
All of it?
No, just the end. In between the lips.
Now, we take a burning taper.
And so, carefully,
as not to cause damage to the Holy Person,
we apply fire to the end of the cigarro.
And, here for the most important part,
a sensation of great pleasure.
Pleasure?
I didn't know this was a leisure pursuit.
We thought it was medicinal.
Please.
Fire, and now suck as if drawing air through a tube.
A little harder.
- We are on fire! - One more time.
What is this called?
Smoking!
Smoking? Indeed, well, one is smoking.
Thank you. Thank you.
My wife.
Maria Enriquez de Luna.
A rare beauty.
I am devoted to her, body and soul.
She is with my child.
Bravo!
The bull has done his work.
An heir.
This pleases us.
It will be a boy.
I can feel it here.
You have grown into manhood, my son.
As we prayed for.
We feel a little,
- how do I say... - Nauseous.
- Exactly. - It will pass.
Wine?
No. I only drink water.
The clarity of water gives clarity of mind.
A blessing.
We are of a similar temperament.
So, to business.
Caterina Sforza.
The bitch of Forli. Is she still in this world?
In this world and threatening war.
The papal army awaits your command.
Lay siege to her castle,
give her occasion to come to the Holy City,
to bend her knee to Rome.
Should she refuse, then you are at liberty to seize her estates.
Her lands, her titles, her deeds, the castle at Forlì
will be yours, a rich reward.
And if she refuses?
Then knock the bitch off her perch.
By the grace of God, Father,
I am ready.
Thank you, Brother.
Heard the news from Florence, Brother?
Our blessed Brother Savonarola is making it a true city of God.
He should take care, then.
Borgia spies take note of his every word,
- Machiavelli chief among them. - Thank you.
Any hint of heresy is music to their ears.
Praise to God.
Is it heresy, then, to declare the rule of the blessed?
To ban usury and sodomy?
We know all the Borgia wiles, Brother.
If Savonarola claims to speak with the tongue of angels,
they have the excuse they need for a public burning.
He must beware. Temper his words.
The Friar speaks from the heart.
His power is his rhetoric.
His words will never be tempered.
We need his presence here on Earth, not in Heaven, Brother.
We already have one among us who would be a martyr.
Then we must let the Friar know that we are within sight of our goal.
Our prayer,
a world without the Borgia Pope.
Holy Father?
I would meet with the suitor from Genova.
Calvino Pallavicini?
I would meet with him if just to determine the colour of his eyes.
Nothing more.
Your hand?
Such elegance, yes?
My thanks to my brother.
Had he gifted me a viper, I would now be in my shroud.
Your brother shows sense. He has married well.
We would advise you to follow the same path.
What is that in your mouth?
It's a cigarro.
Not a turd?
No!
It smells like one.
Not good.
In fact, very bad.
Is it true that the disease can eat its way to the brain and destroy it?
It is lust that destroys the brain, not the disease.
The damage has already been done before the disease takes hold.
Mercury,
or rather the corrosive sublimate is indicated.
To be taken in minute portions, mind, or it will kill.
Your salvation may lie in this modest instrument.
Allow me to demonstrate.
This is inserted into the privy member.
There will be pain.
Once it is in place, I push on this gizmet, here,
revealing the umbrella-like apparatus that does the work.
The instrument is withdrawn,
and, thus, it will scrape clear the pus and discharge upon its exit.
Are you ready?
No.
Bite on this.
Be sure, I have seen the vision of God.
As I have heard the words of his angels.
God has chosen us to purify his church,
but for these angels,
life is just a moment,
a breath of wind upon their cheeks.
But life hereafter is an eternity!
And every day you live is Judgment Day.
Now, which of you can tell me
what is Judgment Day?
- What is your name? - Angelo.
Angelo. You see? We have an angel amongst us.
So, Angelo, tell us,
what is Judgment Day?
It is when the Son of Man will return in his glory,
the graves will open,
and the living and the dead will be judged
and sent to Heaven or Hell.
An eternity in Heaven
or an eternity in Hell!
Yes! Yes! Yes!
My friends,
this world is crowded with vanity.
What you see in the mirror is but an illusion.
Until you have cast off your fine clothes,
the jewels in your hair,
your lewd pictures in your pagan books,
your wines, your courtesans, your paramours,
your lust for all the things in life that you crave!
This man has been ordered not to preach and remain silent.
It is the loudest silence I have ever heard.
This is in direct defiance of the papal order.
No surprise.
- What is all this? - Vanities.
Waiting like a witch for the fire.
...until that time, you are damned
and the doors to Heaven will remain closed.
Which of you would like to stand and contradict that?
Line up!
Stand in tight!
Soldiers! Papal guards!
To arms! To arms!
Summon the Lady Sforza.
- Soldiers approaching! - To your stations!
Stand to! Awaiting orders!
More archers to the main gate!
Take your positions!
Gunners!
Quickly! Ready yourselves!
- Cannon forward! - Forward!
Seal the gates!
Sir!
Make way!
Cannons ready!
Do not shoot!
Move the line out!
How many men are in the castle?
It's not known.
We most likely outnumber them.
We pray we outnumber them, yes?
There is big danger here, My Lord.
Speak with this woman.
- The Bitch of Forli. - Bitch?
Yes, speak with this bitch and speak soon.
A white flag. A truce.
State your terms before they turn those cannons onto us.
We will keep the army back in the trees.
- Yes. - Out of reach of the cannon. Venga!
Make way for the horses!
Shields!
Form up!
Standard bearers!
Presenting the most honourable Calvino Pallavicini da Genova.
Holiness.
The Lady Lucrezia will be here presently.
Our daughter's pet.
It goes everywhere with her.
Presenting the most gracious Lucrezia Borgia.
Father.
Holy Father.
We have been waiting.
The baby cried and would not stop.
Madam, may I present my brother,
Calvino Pallavicini da Genova.
Lady, I am honoured.
And I am truly honoured to meet you.
Father.
Lucrezia!
Sir, forgive me, I forget.
Please accept this beast as a gift.
It is the only one of its kind in the land.
He eats only meat.
White flag!
You are Caterina Sforza?
I am Caterina Sforza.
I am Juan Borgia, Duke of Gandia, Commander of the papal army.
I am here to command you to proceed under our escort to the Holy City
and humbly swear allegiance to our most Holy Father,
Pope Alexander VI.
The whore of Rome first sent one boy to do his work,
a murderer,
and now he sends another.
You bring a boy to protect you?
Is he strong enough to hold a sword?
He is my son, and he is worth more than a whole nest of Borgias.
Is our business here done?
Be warned,
failure to comply with this order will find you guilty of betrayal,
and your estate shall be confiscated.
Here.
Here is my estate.
Here is my land.
Take it if you can. My cannons will answer your call.
- Benito! - Grab the boy!
Grab the boy!
- No! - Mother!
- No! - Please! Help!
- I warned you, Sforza! - Stop!
- Don't shoot! Don't fire! - Hold your arrows!
Help!
- Shields up! - Help!
Wait, my lady! It's too dangerous.
Hold formation!
Go back!
My lady!
Go back!
Open the gates!
How many years do you have?
Sir?
How old are you?
I am 1 5 years, sir.
Then you have 1 5 years.
Yes, sir.
Then how many years do you have left?
I do not know.
Does your mother love you?
I think she does, yes.
How much does your mother love you?
That is hard to tell.
How much does your mother love you?
It is for me to ask the questions, and for you to answer them.
Yes, sir.
We are going to torture you.
We could start here, yes?
With a sharp knife.
There'll be lots of blood.
You might even die.
How does that make you feel?
There is nothing I can tell you.
Well, that is your misfortune.
We are not going to torture you
because we want you to tell us something.
We are going to torture you, so that your mother can see you suffer.
So, from here he walked to the Tiber
and then stopped for a while to do a picture of the Castel Sant'Angelo.
And then what?
From there, he walked to the ruins on Via Aurelia,
where he sat for several hours,
drawing and painting.
What else?
He ate an apple.
And did he meet with anyone?
No one.
I don't think there's anyone else, my lady.
Here.
Go to the store on the Piazza de Navona
and buy me some paints,
artist's paints, brushes and the like.
I wish to become an artist.
Man the ramparts!
Yes, sir!
My lady, their army has gathered in the forest,
beyond the range of the cannon.
And we cannot estimate their numbers.
We wait.
You cannot march an army into Romagna and word not travel.
Ludovico and his army will come.
Then, we will spill some blood.
Can we depend on Ludovico?
Ludovico is like the wind, we know this,
but he is family.
We made a pact, each to help the other.
Bring the prisoner!
General's escort! Forward!
What is this?
What are they doing to my son?
Call to your mother.
There. In the battlements.
Call to the bitch.
Mother!
Louder.
Mother.
Scream to her.
- Mother! - I'm here.
- Louder! - I am here!
- Mother! - I am here!
Please.
Borgia bastard.
Tell her you are afraid. Tell her you're afraid!
I am afraid, Mother.
Tell her, "Help me."
- Help! Help! - Louder! Louder!
- Stop! - Louder!
Help!
Tell her that we will torture you.
They'll torture me.
Please.
Men do not torture boys!
Not even ones worth a whole nest of Borgias?
Release my son!
Surrender to my forces, give up your castle,
journey to Rome,
bend your knee to the Holy Father, and then,
then, I will release your son into your loving arms!
Dead.
General, is this a noble act?
- What? - The torture of this boy?
You surprise me.
If you don't have the stomach for the spectacle,
you'll find that Spain lies that way.
- Men, with me! - Hold shields!
Forward guard!
Stay with him.
My son,
live or die,
I swear these men will not make old bones.
Mother.
Mother!
Open up! Open up!
- They're coming! - How can you stop them?
They're coming back. Let's go home!
To think Florence was once a joyful city.
There is word your brother has returned from Spain
and has been ordered to bring the Sforza woman to her knees.
Well, I wish him good fortune. She has sharp teeth.
So the papal army has laid siege to the castle at Forlì.
- To her castle or to her bed? - There's more.
Ludovico of Milan is marching on Forlì to break the siege.
He is on the move.
The papal army will find itself under attack.
Could a messenger reach my brother in time to warn him of the attack?
That would depend on how fast the messenger chooses to ride.
The threat is imminent.
Open up! Open up!
My father, the Holy Father, gave me this mission.
It's plain. My duty lies here.
My brother's a military man and trained in the arts of warfare.
I'm sure he'll find a strategy to defend his army
and himself.
Hand them over!
Don't be vain! Be righteous!
God's children are knocking at the door.
God will follow later.
- Would you care to answer? - Give us your riches!
- No. - Open the door!
- Would you? - No.
- I hear no knocking. - Don't be vain! Be righteous!
What are you doing here?
How do you know this place?
A recent discovery.
And you?
I come here often,
to paint and to read the poets.
Have you painted for long?
No, not long at all.
May I see your work?
I think not.
Who are your favourite poets?
I read them all. I love Ovid and I love Sappho.
"Someone will remember us, even in another time.
"Even in another time."
And you, are you an artist?
No.
I'm a bored nobleman from a family of considerable wealth
with too much time on my hands.
I paint and draw,
pretend to be an artist.
Well, then, I will pretend with you.
What happened to your hand?
I was bitten by a panther.
Yes, I remember the beast.
It dared to bite such a beautiful hand?
And thus, I cannot paint today.
Will you marry my brother?
Would he make a worthy husband?
He is an honourable man, so, yes,
I think he will make a worthy husband.
For me?
Well, he is the elder son.
He has lands, a fleet of ships, power.
But that is not love, is it?
No, that's not love.
This is the perfect place.
For what?
A kiss.
Vanities. Your gold, your silver...
Wait! Before you speak,
I would have you cease marking chalk crosses on my door.
You may continue.
Vanities.
Your gold, your silver, your trinkets, your books.
- Give up your vanities! - I have no vanities.
I have only my intellect, which I am reluctant to relinquish.
And as you can see, with these looks, I have no vanity.
An eternity in Heaven or an eternity in Hell.
What will it be?
Hell is here in this city.
Heaven has, of late, been removed to another place.
The Son of Man will return in his glory,
and he will judge both the quick and the dead.
Give up your vanities or face the wrath of God.
Give 'em up. Give up your vanities.
Give up your vanities! Give up your vanities!
Would you have us break your windows?
Yes, would you?
So, God is now reduced to breaking windows.
Wait.
One moment.
Here.
Come to the square.
How long can you watch your son suffer at the hands of this man?
Revenge will harden the heart.
Open ranks!
- If my son must die, then so be it. - General.
My lady.
- There! - You think you can beat me, Sforza?
One arrow and we can deprive them of their leader.
The boy weakens, My Lord.
Can you kill him?
Do it.
Formation! Formation!
Close the gaps, quickly!
Archers ready!
For every arrow,
for every man you hit,
I'll take one of your son's fingers!
See?
And then I'll hack off his head!
Soldiers, shield!
- General! - Form a shield wall!
- Mother! - Grab him!
Mother!
Ropes! Tie him!
Medic!
Let me say I think I know what's in your mind.
Tell me, have you fallen in love?
How am I to know?
My heart is still with Paolo.
But, if I am to marry,
to be sold like a sheep, as my father would have it,
then I would rather have it be my choice.
Just pick him up.
I've just fed him.
Why defy your father?
He has great love for you.
Marriage is a civilised arrangement of mutual benefit.
It's not a cattle market.
But I thought that was a cattle market.
You give me money, I give you a sheep.
Only in this case, I am the sheep.
Mother, if I am to choose,
then please not Calvino Pallavicini da Genova.
Who, then?
Let me take him.
Come to me. Come to me.
There he is.
It's the brother, yes?
Why not?
I knew it.
Lucrezia.
This is not possible. Put it out of your mind.
It's the golden rule. Never marry the second son.
Your father will never agree.
Well, then I will not marry.
Are you in love with him?
No.
I don't know.
I don't want to fall in love.
It causes too much pain.
But you desire him.
I have that craving, yes.
And why not?
Why not, indeed.
Have you given up your gold, Cardinal? Have you?
Those robes are the trappings of blasphemy!
Burn them all the same!
- Sandro Botticelli, the painter. - There he is! The Medici whore!
Save us! Save our souls!
Burn!
I should have brought my print of the Decameron.
Boccaccio would have been amused.
He could have written a fine story about this.
The one hundred and first.
There goes the Botticelli.
Months to paint, a moment to burn.
Cardinal Cesare Borgia, my Bonfire of the Vanities.
Stand too close and your mozzetta will turn to fire.
And you, Signor Machiavelli, have you brought your works to burn?
Be sure, we will visit your house,
seek them out, and consign them to the flames!
Six times you've taken the poison,
and each time, your resistance grows.
This is the seventh.
"When the lamb opened the seventh seal there was silence in Heaven."
Is that all there is?
Silence?
I feel as if I go to the other side of life and then return.
Do you have visions?
Just darkness,
and shadows.
We grow weary in extremis of this game.
It is no game.
No, it is no game!
It is not simply a matter of you satisfying your own sweet self!
Your indecision is a gift to our enemies.
A folly!
This could cost us our lives, our home, our all!
You are marrying for all of us, Lucrezia, not just yourself.
For family!
What a burden.
Did you not have hopes of capturing Alfonso D'Aragona?
He's young, powerful. Surely, he'd do nicely.
A message was sent to the South.
His arrival was expected but never fulfilled.
What more is to be said?
Sell me to the highest bidder.
Lord Sforza!
We approach Forlì!
Muffle your arms!
- At your ready. - Shields.
Here is your son!
He is waiting to die.
Archers, prepare.
For you!
What is your answer?
God will be my judge,
but I will never,
never bend my knee to the whoremaster of Rome.
Is that your answer?
Load the piece quickly!
This is my answer.
You can take my son,
but do you see?
Here!
I have the means to produce ten more sons!
And they will hunt you down and send you to your grave.
Enough.
Get ready.
Ludovico is here!
Fire!
We are under attack!
Hunt the Borgia down.
- Yes, sir. - Bombard at the ready!
Fire!
- Forward! - After them!
Kill the boy!
We are under attack in the forest. What are your orders?
Kill the boy! Hang him!
No!
Save him! Save my son!
- General! - Archers!
Attack!
Fire!
Release!
- Come about! - They're on both sides!
Attack!