Previously on The Borgias...
You are aware, Holy Father, of the plots against you?
What would Rome be without a good plot?
Simony!
I have evidence that will bring this house
crashing down around your ears.
- Evidence? - Of lechery!
All of Rome knows you're the mother to my children.
The Pope must be seen to be chaste.
God has chosen us to sweep the Vatican clean of corruption.
- What Rome needs now is... - You.
Don't you want them to hear that you have a new whore?
Whom can one trust, in this Rome of ours?
I believe trust needs to be earned, My Lord.
Somebody!
Perhaps it has been.
The vultures are circling our family.
Our Rome.
It seems Cardinal Della Rovere has fled.
Your Royal Highness.
What do you want?
I want Naples to join in alliance with me to rid the papacy...
Of the stench of Borgia.
Give me control of the papal armies and I will protect us all.
We will have one son in the cloth and one in armour.
You think it fits me, brother?
And Lucrezia must marry!
Bind our enemies to us! Make friends of them.
And if my husband proves ungallant?
I shall cut his heart out with a dinner knife.
Lucrezia!
Have you any friends you can confide in?
There is a groom, Paolo.
My lady.
Young love is always doomed.
Lucrezia!
I am with child.
Thank God, not my husband's.
Your Royal Highness, King Charles of France.
I want to restore the Universal Church
to her former dignity.
You will have your war!
But it will be fought the French way.
Holy Father, we should abandon Rome.
We will not tolerate this heresy!
The barbarians are approaching!
We shall outwit them.
I know little of the art of war.
Thank God, someone in this family does.
You are either with us
or against us.
Fire!
We could be said to have an understanding.
We could indeed.
The crown of Naples.
King Charles will not remain in Naples for long.
Plague.
Did the Borgia Pope know of this?
We should thank God
for all the blessings he has visited upon this, our family.
The congregation is poor, but devout.
We shall be honoured to celebrate the Eucharist among them.
Come.
The commune awaits.
Is it the heat, Father?
No, no, no.
It's something...
I ate!
You may leave us, Sisters.
But, Cardinal...
There is no need for last rites, but your prayers would be welcome.
Hush, Cardinal.
I will attend you.
Cardinal...
And you, Sisters, let us hear your prayers.
Don't worry,
if you're not dead by now, you will live.
Your tongue will be swollen for days.
No talking, I'm afraid.
All of your prayers must be silent ones.
Altar boys and cantarella.
Neither can be trusted.
But you must know by now, Cardinal,
there is no hiding place.
Even here,
in the depths of the Umbrian olive groves,
we will find you.
The French army is ensnared in Naples. The French King is ill
with the Neapolitan disease.
God is in His Heaven,
and the Pope on His seat in Rome.
And my plea to you, Cardinal, is still the same.
Work with us,
not against us.
The Cardinal will live then?
So it seems, yes.
But I did my duty, did I not?
I shall still receive payment?
Of course.
Go with God, Sister.
To Rome now.
Our work here, Your Eminence, is finished, yes?
For the moment.
Will we meet again, Holy Father?
Perhaps.
Am I to be your mistress then?
Alas, no.
That position is taken.
Will I receive your blessing at least, for this night we spent together?
You have already received my blessing many times.
And is that bliss to be repeated?
Giulia Farnese comes back from Umbria today.
She would not countenance this.
She is strict then?
Yes, and jealous.
Why?
She is a woman.
And, forgive me, Holy Father, she is here.
You must leave us!
Don't let her in!
No, no!
You have to leave us! Go!
But I was promised...
Now please go!
Make her vanish if you would be so kind.
His Holiness is?
His Holiness bathes.
We asked for hot water! We lie in cold!
This is more to Your Holiness' liking?
Giulia Farnese.
We have missed you.
Isn't this bliss?
A crying child?
You must avail yourself of a wet nurse, my love.
Indeed, Father, why?
Well, you are hardly a commoner,
and your figure should reflect that grace.
Because I am yet of marriageable age, am I not?
Nothing could have been further from our thoughts, Lucrezia.
This child, Holy Father, lacks a father.
Or one appropriate to your station.
And for the moment, you have no need of a marital alliance.
But if the need arose, you would marry me to the moon.
What?
Does the sun threaten our papacy now?
No, Father.
Mars is in a unique alignment with Saturn.
The heavens beam down upon us.
For the moment.
But the day might come.
Now let me hold him, come along. Come. That's right, that's right.
So. A wet nurse. We insist.
Come on. That's the way.
The French Ambassador awaits, Your Holiness.
Oh, God. Isn't he dead yet?
He's not even sick.
Come on. Let's go see the French Ambassador.
See what he's got to say.
- Ambassador. - Your Holiness.
Up the wooden hill. There we go.
Lovely.
There we go.
It's nice, isn't it?
So, how can we be of assistance?
The whereabouts of...
Alfonso of Naples is still at large.
We have reason to believe that he infected his own city
with the pestilence that plagues it.
How can that concern us?
We would have the Ambassador gently remind the King
that Naples has the habit of rejecting those who would conquer it.
The Moor, the Turk, the Norman.
Why should the French be any different?
But Your Holiness invested King Charles with the...
All right, darling. It's all right.
We granted the King his wish.
Naples.
He has Naples. He regrets that fact.
That is his tragedy and not ours.
It's not ours, is it?
And now you've woken the child.
Shame on you, Ambassador.
It's all right. It's just the nasty Ambassador.
Let's go and find your mama.
She'll give you something to eat and it'll be better.
So, Cardinal Della Rovere is still alive?
I would hardly call it living.
You need lessons in killing, brother?
- From you? - Enough!
And King Charles of France, what of him?
He has been struck with the Neapolitan disease.
As we had hoped.
So,
now is the time of reckoning
for those who betrayed us.
The Vitelli, the Orsini, the Sforza.
All the great families of the Romagna and Papal States.
Our task is of vengeance.
We believe that the Cardinals will now,
from henceforth, do our will.
But now it is time to make sure their families
feel the wind of our displeasure.
Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.
Vengeance will be ours.
We shall subdue the arrogance of those Papal States,
one by one by one.
We will force them back into the arms of Rome.
But above all, the Sforzas.
Their betrayal of our papacy shall be avenged.
By who? This headless cock?
Will you stop this discord!
We are family!
We are one!
And we will only triumph as one!
For we have a second task.
It is called renewal.
We would restore Rome
to its former glory.
Under the Borgias, it will shine
as it did beneath the Caesars.
But if we are to achieve this greatness, your birthright,
it will be together.
As one.
As family.
Now let me hear you speak that word.
Give me your hand, Cesare.
Family.
I have had new duelling blades designed, brother.
Thin,
and as sharp as will be our vengeance.
Show me.
Hear how they sing.
A blade looks incongruous in a cleric's hand.
Why?
A cleric prays.
He doesn't fight.
- Well, this cleric does both. - Prove it.
You must attack me then, brother.
Because I would never attack you.
Never?
Our father has forbidden discord between us.
- Even in jest? - In jest?
Attack that which can hardly defend itself?
That's an insult, I believe.
Come on, Cesare!
Can you not keep your horse still, my love?
Could you ask my horse the same?
The troops are cheering, brother. Why?
They cheer their leader.
Do I detect anger in those blows, brother?
No anger. No envy either.
I have been long steeled in all the cardinal virtues.
You must need them, wearing a clerical collar.
And I know the one sin my father would never forgive
is fratricide.
A big word, brother.
It is a big word, Your Eminence.
But pray,
what does it mean, my Lord?
Something to do with killing.
Killing.
Well, we'll have none of that.
Not today.
You are brothers, after all, are you not?
Your Eminence.
You have found your prize.
But it may have led you to a greater one. Look.
Those Romans knew not monogamy.
No.
That came with Our Lord Jesus Christ.
One would hope.
We must preserve these.
For posterity.
Not for pleasure?
No.
You alone are our pleasure.
Indeed.
Can I hold him?
And wake him?
That would be cruelty indeed.
I must hold you then.
Tell me again, my love.
Who is his father?
A groom. Paolo.
But I called him Narcissus, so divine was his face.
Should I envy him then?
You have read your romances, dear brother.
You must know that such a love is impossible.
Impossible loves.
I am very much afraid they can become an addiction.
There is one your heart must find room for, Cesare.
One you must love before you can love anyone.
And that one would be?
Yourself.
Will I live long enough
to see the one who caused this pestilence punished?
The humours of this city have been rife with disease for centuries.
Its pestilences
come and go.
So I should not blame that inbred Prince?
It is His Highness' privilege to blame whom he chooses.
And I choose to blame
Prince Alfonso.
You knew his father, King Ferrante?
I was his physician, Your Highness.
You have heard, then, of his torture chambers,
his house of pain below us here?
I had the sad duty of working within it, Your Highness.
You were subjected to its horrors?
No, Your Highness,
I had to keep alive those unfortunates who were.
And King Ferrante's supper table.
You had a hand in that?
It was my duty to prepare the corpses for the taxidermist.
When they died.
When my best efforts had failed them, Your Highness.
Do not fail us, Doctor.
Or that house of pain may await you.
That Borgia Pope!
He set a trap for us in league with Prince Alfonso.
Naples, I hate it now forever.
Even the King is ill with this pestilence!
So we must have
all the frescoes removed, intact.
Careful!
We will install them in a chamber in the Vatican dedicated to...
Pleasure?
Remarkable piece of work.
Dedicated to history
and the renewal...
Loosen these, carefully.
...of the Eternal City.
Turn it over a little.
What is that?
Apis. Sacred bull of the Goddess Isis.
Could be the Borgia Bull.
Some say that Isis is the predecessor of our own Blessed Virgin Mary.
We are all to worship Isis now?
No.
If we could
find a way to worship more like the ancients. With joy.
I mean, instead of constant prayer,
why not thank God
for Rome's deliverance from the French with celebration?
For the common people?
You would give them bread and circuses again?
No, no.
We would give them
what is lacking in their lives.
Joy.
Is His Holiness lacking something?
What?
Does my presence no longer fill him with joy?
Oh, no, no, no.
Don't say that.
Do you normally work at night?
Your Holiness!
Come here where I can see you.
I must practise my art in secret, Your Holiness.
I am as yet a mere artisan.
Any moment I can snatch to perfect my line,
I do.
You are apprenticed?
To the Master Bramante, Your Holiness.
But I am as yet, the least of his pupils.
Come here.
I won't bite.
You're very young.
But youth fades.
Beauty doesn't.
Turn your face to the light.
What is that smile?
Your Holiness.
Please.
You are more Eve than Adam.
Forgive me.
Why would one hide such beauty?
As an apprentice, I must be male.
Or appear to be.
What is your name, fair apprentice?
The master knows me as Vittorio.
And God knows you as?
Vittoria.
Well, Vittoria.
We have to keep your secret.
We may have a commission for you.
On the 25th of June, the ancient Romans celebrated the Ludi Taurii,
the Games of the Bull.
Now, that is also, by coincidence,
the feast day of St Bernard of Vermicelli.
We propose to hold a celebration on that day
for the entire populace of Rome.
The church, the nobility, but above all,
for the common people.
Can a pagan feast day, Holy Father, be reconciled with a Christian one?
If you knew anything of your history, Cardinal, you would know that
Easter, for example, was celebrated long before our Saviour's death.
No, the ancients knew what we seem to have forgotten,
that Rome is its people.
Which is why we propose a celebration for the people of Rome.
It shall include a horse race, a public feast,
a masked ball on classical Roman themes.
And...
We have commissioned a monument,
in wood,
to light up our celebrations.
The Borgia Bull!
And these celebrations,
this bull, Your Holiness,
does anyone have any idea of the cost?
Can one put a price on joy, Cardinal Sforza?
No, Holy Father. It is priceless.
So,
whatever the cost,
we shall have a bargain.
Let Rome be full of joy!
Interesting.
Thank you, Madam.
But your animal lacks physical concreteness.
That creature is more cow than bull, surely.
Pardon me?
You have... How should I put it?
Desexed the creature.
It is a bull, surely, Madam.
It looks like a bull.
It stands like a bull.
But it lacks something of the male vigour.
Like you, perhaps.
Your name, Maestro?
Vittorio.
I am as yet no maestro.
No?
Then a mistress, perhaps?
My lady.
Giulia Farnese.
And you, Vittorio,
have so cleverly disguised your hair.
Why the deceit, fair lady?
A woman cannot be apprenticed.
I know.
To any trade other than wet nurse.
And you would sit on Parnassus,
with your master, Bramante.
I beg you, my lady.
Yes.
You may yet beg.
And I am your lady.
At least the Pope is not tempted with the sin of sodomy.
His Holiness...
Claimed to know nothing.
Is he a fox, or a holy fool, that Pope?
He is definitely no fool, my liege.
But if he thinks he's fooled me, Ambassador, he'll find he's wrong.
This room was King Ferrante's joke,
a parody of the Last Supper.
Do you find it amusing?
I find it repellent, my liege.
But the Judas seat is empty.
It awaits its occupant.
That Judas who betrayed his own people,
infected his own city.
Prince Alfonso of Naples.
There has been a sighting, my liege,
on the slopes of Vesuvius.
Hunt him down, wherever he is.
Bring him here.
Unharmed.
I would see him in this chair.
Come on, higher!
All right, ready, move!
Lower it.
Bring it down!
To that side!
Higher! Come on!
Give me some more rope.
His Holiness has ordered that Rome be full of joy.
And how much does joy cost?
250,000 ducats so far.
Wrap it in muslin now! Gently!
And counting.
Come on!
Come on, brother!
Come on!
Given up already, Cesare?
A wager, for the race tomorrow.
My brother or me.
You.
If he doesn't cheat.
Do you hear that roar, brother?
Do you think it's for me?
Who else?
Ready!
You think you can beat me, brother?
Always!
Take the scent. Take the scent!
Come on!
Give them the scent of who was once their ruler.
What was his name?
Prince Alfonso!
And they know him well.
Borgia!
Caltrops.
After him!
Get him! Up there!
Coward! We'll get you!
Go get him!
Come down, you coward!
I claim the right of feudal privilege!
I shall bow to no common soldier!
You will bow to a King then!
Let me guess, my love.
An owl?
Yes, Your Holiness.
And an owl signifies?
I am the owl of Minerva.
Goddess of magic and wisdom.
Who is my dear sister tonight?
I am Echo.
I may not be Narcissus, but may I dance with Echo?
My Narcissus could not dance.
He could not read or write.
Could he make you smile?
- Can you? - I can try.
Hush now.
Unhand me!
Hurts!
I must protest, Your Highness, at my treatment by your captors.
The laws of chivalry demand I not be bound.
Even a Prince cannot eat in handcuffs.
I sadly cannot partake.
His Highness feels poorly?
Yes, a strange pestilence has laid me low.
Has laid the whole of Naples low indeed.
What a pity.
His Highness will recover?
We have been so assured.
Oh, goody!
I cannot wait to show His Highness the delights of our fair city.
What remains of it.
Father.
You are Apollo, my son?
No, Father. I am Mars.
But no warfare tonight, we trust.
Tonight is for celebrations.
Who are you tonight, Father?
We are Janus.
The guardian of the keys of Rome.
Of the gateway to paradise.
So there's no Pope here tonight?
The Pope has two faces, my son.
One looks to the future and the other to the past.
We are the gatekeeper to both.
People are born and people die.
They breed like rabbits here, Your Highness.
Naples will recover all her splendour, she always does.
Perhaps the Prince will give me a tour of its delights.
It would be my utmost honour, Your Royal Highness.
And perhaps he would begin with a tour of his father's dungeons.
My father's dungeons?
We have seen his banquet room, where King Ferrante liked to dine
with those who had displeased him.
But the ingenuity of his torture chambers,
for that we felt a tour was necessary.
A tour?
Juno?
Well spotted, Giulia Farnese.
And you are?
You may call me Minerva.
And to think
you were Venus once.
And I soon may be a vestal virgin.
You fear for the constancy of your lover's affections?
And, if I may be so bold, I would ask for your advice.
When his eye wanders?
As it did from me to you?
- You must hate me. - No.
And if you would take my advice,
don't do as I did.
Rage, remonstrate. Play the wounded wife.
No?
So what is the Goddess Juno's advice?
He is Janus tonight, is he not?
He looks both ways.
Allow him his fancy.
Let him look both ways.
But be sure one of those gazes falls on you.
And this ingenious construct, my Prince.
Has it a name?
It is called...
A Judas Cradle.
What an elegant name.
Do not let me think you have dressed as Hermaphrodite?
No, my lady.
I am Vulcan, god of molten metal, of the artisans.
A humble station.
You would do well to maintain it.
And His Holiness is?
You would find out who His Holiness is?
Follow me then.
And this?
It is called the Pear of Anguish.
And its use?
It can be inserted
into the mouth...
Or into the...
He means the rectum, does he not?
The rear. The back passage.
I believe he does, Your Highness.
You are now Aphrodite.
Lover of Hermes.
Mother of Hermaphrodite.
It almost harmonises.
Sing, sing.