Previously on The Borgias...
Giovanni Sforza.
And my cousin, Caterina Sforza.
You would have a taste of vengeance.
Giovanni Sforza, he proved ungallant?
He betrayed our father, the Pope.
If he misused you, he shall pay a different kind of price.
You think the blood of the Borgia pope could cure us?
We could bathe in it together, Majesty.
Caterina Sforza rides with the French.
She has the arms she needed
and has retired at her castle at Forlì.
And we forgive her?
Priorities can change, Cardinal Borgia.
The French have laid waste to the papal states.
Our proposal is that the armies combine
to rid us of this French plague.
You think we can defeat the French?
We can strike them at night and move like smoke in the darkness.
Do you have anything to confess about this past night?
My night was as satisfactory as I'm sure was yours.
I would beg your permission
to investigate the office of public works even further.
For more irregularities?
There are so many in this Vatican of yours.
- And you are? - Niccolo Machiavelli.
Ambassador to the House of Medici.
The Medici family are bankers to the world.
To the Vatican itself.
Father Savonarola calls it usury.
This Pope is a lecherous abomination!
Florence, you will pay for your greed
when he grinds you to perdition!
Savonarola prophesied the end of days.
Not the murder of the Pope.
If I had his approval, would I have yours?
It is ingenious, when you think of it.
- Saint Peter's? - The Church.
Like an enormous bank machine.
The faithful pay to maintain it in its magnificent splendour.
This theatre of redemption.
The greater the display, the more they gather
from all corners of Christendom.
The more they pay.
Can the College of Cardinals be made to see the light?
They each have their secrets.
If we can find them.
The French munitions were destroyed by some brave Roman souls.
Were you one of them?
I dress in red satin, Father, not in armour.
So you are a Cardinal still?
Though sometimes in disguise.
Dare we say it, like us.
So, now we got rid of one enemy, it's now time to deal with another.
Friar Savonarola.
Your cousin, Caterina Sforza!
So it continues.
She has retired to her castle in Forlì
with an abundance of French cannon.
Well, then I can defend her no longer, Your Holiness.
We will have her come to Rome
and kneel at our feet
and have those beauteous lips kiss the papal ring.
Let me be the messenger, Father.
You?
You care so little for your hide?
I care more for my father's well-being.
So while we make the acquaintance of Florence,
Cardinal Borgia will journey to Forlì.
And you tell that lady that if she does not obey us,
we will reduce her fortress to dust
and drag her in chains through the streets of Rome.
The choice is hers!
To Florence and its heretic, Savonarola!
Do you know anyone in Forlì?
I know everyone in Forlì, Your Eminence.
How?
I was born there.
I can't imagine you being born, Micheletto.
Or dying, for that matter.
But you must show us your ancestral home.
I preach against Rome!
I preach against the sale of indulgences!
I preach against the display and pomp
of our Lords of the Church!
Of their gold and jewellery!
And who pays, who pays for such decadence?
You! The faithful.
Where does your charity end up?
In the Medici bank, in Florence,
where it multiplies
like maggots through usury.
So the root of...
You should leave, Holy Father.
No, we would hear more.
The Friar is eloquent.
And dangerous.
If we are discovered, they will tear you limb from limb.
Know your enemy, Cardinal.
Know him better than your friend.
With the sword of righteousness!
Did Adam need gold coin?
Did Eve need diamond and pearl?
We must drive the Medici bank from Florence
or burn it to the ground.
Pray with me.
Fuck the bloody Pope in Rome,
- my bambino has come home. - Mama, no.
The Pope of Rome can wipe his ass. I've got my baby back at last.
She can go on like this for hours, Your Eminence.
Eminence?
Is he eminent?
In my own small world.
- He is your dottore, is he not? - His dottore?
If you are my son's dottore, I must surely bring out my best wine.
You have a name, dottore?
Cesare.
And you have read many books?
Books?
What kind of dottore are you?
My son studies medicine, he has to read the books.
His dottore helps him read the books.
But it takes so long, this student business.
Indeed. It takes forever.
He has to learn to wield the scalpel.
- The knife. - To cut up the cadaver.
To find out where the spleen resides, the liver, the heart.
- He is a good student? - The best.
And he has but one ambition.
Ambition?
To look after his mama when she's old.
- He told you that? - He tells me daily
when he wields the scalpel.
What does he say?
For Mama!
- No! - This one's for Mama!
The next one's for Mama. It's always for Mama.
My boy.
My sweet, dear blessed boy.
Look at those hands, dottore.
The hands of a healer, no?
A maestro.
My dottore maestro.
Augustino! He's back, Augustino.
Our Micheletto has returned.
Augustino's getting married.
You remember Violetta from the baker's shop?
- Yes. - With the...
Lazy eye.
Well, Augustino's not looking at the lazy eye.
- No. - Her hips, more like it.
- Big hips, yes? - Big childbearing hips.
And on that happy note, fair lady,
I must leave you.
You won't stay the night?
I have business in Forlì.
Dottore business.
Yes, as have you.
Mama.
We must go heal the sick. Yes?
But before you leave, you come back.
For your Mama's bean stew.
He would not miss it, Mama. Not for the world.
So, dottore, shall we heal the sick?
You must forgive my mother, her fantasies, Your Eminence.
Has she many more of them?
She believes her husband died reaping corn in a field.
Your father? And he didn't?
No, I killed him.
- Was there a reason? - Many.
Friar.
Are you the cleric in red?
I find the robes of your order
suit me better at this pitiful juncture.
Have you taken our vows?
I can no longer serve the Pope of Rome.
Yes, I heard of your plans for his deposition.
Your plans failed miserably.
Indeed.
I must confess to failure.
So have you come here to make a confession of your failure?
No.
I am here to propose a solution
to the sickness in our Holy Mother Church.
A solution?
We must remove him.
From the chair of Saint Peter's?
From the chair of Saint Peter's.
But you tried that already.
From the chair of Saint Peter's
and from this world.
I shared a vision with you once
of the bloated figure of the Borgia pope,
lying blackened with sickness on the floor of Saint Peter's.
No one dared approach it.
Are you saying you're the one to bring this to pass?
Only if I have your blessing, Friar,
and the blessing of your order.
You have the blessing of the Lord.
For he shall bring it to pass.
And if my vision was a true one,
you will have my blessing
and the blessing of the Lord Himself.
Be the sword of the apocalypse,
the sword of righteousness.
Ride out like Death on a pale horse.
- Your Holiness. - Signore Machiavelli.
Had we been graced with news of your arrival,
we could have done justice to your presence.
No. We cannot always travel in public splendour.
A pope must learn the problems of his subjects.
And your humble subject, Piero de Medici awaits.
Good.
- Cannon. - French cannon.
Too many of them.
Would we be safer
in your mother's humble abode, Micheletto?
You will always be safe whenever I am near, Eminence.
This Sforza family are not to be trusted.
Stay close and keep the horses saddled.
My son, Benito, longs for a soldier's career.
It has much to recommend it.
You bear arms yourself, Signore Borgia?
No, my love, he wears a cardinal's skirt.
- But your dress is that of... - I am a civilian today.
An ambassador.
He comes bearing a message from his father, the Pope of Rome.
Have I guessed correctly, Cardinal?
You think so little of your charms?
- You've come to sample them, perhaps? - Perhaps.
While bearing a message from the Pope of Rome.
The Pope does send his best regards and would request
your beauteous presence at the chair of Saint Peter's.
He would sample my charms also?
Perhaps.
He would feel your lips on his papal ring.
He would have me kneel to him?
Bow?
The whole world must bow to the Holy Father.
Whom does your mother bow to, my son?
Nobody.
You heard him, Cardinal.
His mother bows to nobody.
And if nobody were to sit at her table?
She would not bow.
But there are other forms of obeisance.
- Are there, Mother? - Indeed, my son.
There is a form of surrender which implies no submission.
It gave birth to you.
I confess I am lost, Mother.
Indeed, you are truly a soldier made of hard wood.
But the Cardinal must know,
I only kneel when it suits me.
As must the Holy Father.
If you do not come willingly, my lady...
Hush, Cardinal, hush.
You are our guest this fine evening.
I'd have no discord between us.
You can relay the Holy Father's message
in its fullness tomorrow.
We live in a fortress now,
barricaded against a sea of zealots in the streets outside.
Zealots?
Their fervour for the Friar's visions increases daily.
They would ban all art and ornament,
and they have set their sights on the coin of the realm itself.
Money?
Dear God.
They see gold and silver coin as part of the fallen world.
They would reduce all exchange to the state of barter
only possible in the Garden of Eden.
And what of banking?
Did Adam need gold coin?
Did Eve need a bank?
Did Cain charge interest to Abel?
And what of the Church's deposits in your banks?
They would scatter them like chaff.
And if they knew, Holy Father, of your personal accounts,
they would burn the bank to the ground.
Well, then,
perhaps we had better have our wealth brought back to Rome.
How? The Friar has his spies everywhere.
Perhaps the good Friar could be bought.
- With money? - No, bishopric.
The generalship of the Dominican order.
The Dominican order already does his bidding.
And how can you buy one who would outlaw trade itself?
You offer him something that money cannot buy.
Heaven itself.
Is it good?
He has the voice of an angel.
Not a soldier, then?
No.
No, never send this boy to war.
So, you've come back, Micheletto,
to haunt me.
Must we always meet among old bones?
You know why.
Ghosts.
Only the dead should walk here.
And us.
You remember.
I've tried to forget.
You should.
You're to be married, are you not?
And you?
Did you not forget?
I forget nothing.
My father, Galeazzo Sforza.
He lost one eye in battle.
His nose then occluded his vision, so he sliced it off.
The Sforzas of Forlì never surrender.
And never kneel.
We can kneel all right, but only willingly.
Giorgio will now show you to your rooms.
Indelicate, Cardinal.
To invade a lady's chamber.
- I was led here. - By whom?
Your manservant.
By mistake. I must have him whipped.
May I leave?
I could scream in terror, call my soldiery.
I am still your guest here.
In my room?
An intruder, surely.
So then,
scream.
Help.
Is that blade truly necessary?
You could stab me with it whenever you wanted.
Is that a promise?
A promise.
I am a freak of nature, Cardinal.
An aberration.
A free woman in a man's world.
We should deal with you harshly then.
You should put me down.
Your marriage will be a lie.
Like your studies?
But I have no books. You will have a wife.
I'm a wheelwright, Micheletto.
I live in Forlì.
I will marry in Forlì, and I will die in Forlì.
Then come to Rome.
I know what your life is in Rome.
My life, what is my life, Augustino?
It does not involve healing.
It involves punishment.
I punish this world for not being as I want.
And you frighten me.
Then you must not come to Rome.
Those cannon were fake.
What cannon?
I was wondering how you had whipped up numberless pieces.
Then I heard a rumour.
There was no metal in them.
Plaster, not bronze.
Which is the trouble with you Borgias.
Nothing is what it seems.
We are commoners, my lady.
But of a rare Spanish breed.
So, how do we entice this Friar to Rome?
As you said, with the offer of a bishopric.
A bishopric may not be carrot enough.
Maybe a cardinal's hat?
You would have him sit in consistory?
Bring his fire and brimstone to Saint Peter's?
We would have him come to Rome.
Clap him in the dungeons of the Castel Sant' Angelo,
charge him with heresy.
Burn him at the stake?
Do you intend the same thing for my cousin, Caterina Sforza?
Dear God, is she a heretic, too?
She is a woman who bears a man's arms.
We would befriend your cousin, Cardinal.
We would hold her close and dear.
As you hold myself.
Indeed.
Make way there!
Make way for His Holiness!
Stand aside!
Make way for His Holiness, the Pope of Rome!
Form up!
A cardinal's stocking, Giulia.
You are indeed observant.
And what do I spy between those mounds of sleeping flesh?
Why, I believe
it's a Cardinal. Another one.
Fuck off.
Oh, can I help you ladies?
We're in search of Cardinals.
Well, you've come to the right place then.
We should have called this place the Sistine Chapel.
But the Sistine Chapel is fragrant with incense.
Its floors sparkle with cleanliness.
Here, the Cardinals lie in filth.
As do we, madam.
And you are?
The committee for the betterment of the lives
of the ladies of the Roman night.
There is such a committee?
There is now.
And you have the blessing of?
The Pope of Rome.
Goodness.
Well, you must come and meet our madam, then.
Madam, there are some ladies here to see you!
We so rarely have ladies within our walls.
The girls who work here do not qualify as ladies, then?
Good God, no.
A lady has a future.
And your girls have none?
Unless they find a patron, my lady.
As you yourself must know.
I was a courtesan, my dear, never a streetwalker.
My girls might walk the streets,
but they ply their trade here.
In the vilest conditions.
And you would better their lot?
And yours,
if you play your cards right.
You have a certain clientele.
- Of clerics. - Cardinals.
I am bound to discretion
with regard to my clientele, my ladies.
We have a proposition for you, madam.
That we pay for the refurbishment of your premises.
We restore it to cleanliness, comfort,
a condition of absolute health.
In return for?
Names, on occasion.
Dates.
The details of any Cardinal who crosses the bounds of propriety.
Brother Giuliano, you bring news from Florence?
Friar Savonarola commanded us
to be the sword of the apocalypse.
Death himself on his pale horse.
But how?
He is surrounded at all times by a ring of steel.
There may yet be a way.
As the Friar has said,
the Pope is surrounded by a ring of steel.
But if we can penetrate that ring, discover his weakness...
What is his weakness?
Fornication.
Food. Wine.
And I propose we use the weapon
the Borgia family uses so effortlessly.
Against me, among others.
Cantarella.
I'm afraid I can delay it no longer, my lady.
Delay what?
The reason for my presence here.
Oh, yes.
There was a reason.
Something to do with Rome.
- His Holiness, the Pope... - What a pity.
Pity?
To ruin this sweet dalliance with issues of politics.
When we were getting on so well.
Indeed.
There is no cause for rancour between our families.
Is there, my son?
That would be such a pity.
A pity indeed.
But proceed, Cardinal, if you must.
His Holiness dictates
that if you do not come to Rome willingly...
Now, you have quite put me off my duck.
And I sense a threat behind those words.
Perhaps a "choice" would be the better word.
Oh, dear!
A choice.
And I am so bad at choosing.
He would have you travel to Rome willingly or in chains.
And this duck did taste so good.
You must break fast with me tomorrow, Cardinal.
I will give you my answer then.
And now,
let me show you to your rooms.
Tell me your answer.
You shall have it in the morning.
I think I know it already.
What do you care if I come to Rome?
The Pope has made an edict.
Written on paper?
Or plaster, like your cannon?
So, your answer is no?
You said I had a choice.
To go willingly
or to go in chains.
Who is going to chain me?
You?
Someday, perhaps.
Your brother?
I have heard of his bluster.
Fake, again, like your cannon.
Let us dispense then with these niceties,
and let me leave.
But that, Cardinal, I am not yet prepared for.
You think I appreciate this game of yours?
No. But I do.
And you did admit, Cardinal,
the game is mine.
The bed is mine.
The choice is mine.
And,
for one more night at least,
you may be mine.
As a poison, cantarella is undetectable.
If given a sufficient dosage,
it will definitely be fatal.
The Pope has tasters for his food, his wine.
He does indeed.
So one of us must seek employment as his taster
and be prepared to die for our cause.
Is there one among us who is willing to die?
To administer the poison?
Taste the poison?
Serve it to the Pope of Rome and share his fate?
If one among you can find it in his heart
to offer himself for this sacrifice,
think carefully,
make your peace with God first,
and only then come forward.
I of all people know
it will be a terrible death.
You should throw away those cardinal robes, you know.
I thought I had.
You should wear armour,
this body of yours deserves nothing less.
Micheletto.
We cannot meet again.
Why?
If I were found in your arms, I'd be disembowelled and burnt.
It's a cruel world.
Too cruel.
Now, I have killed many
with an embrace such as this.
Did you love them, too?
This grave,
this is my father's grave, and I loved him
when I held his head thus.
Now, you go and you be married.
Saint Paul says it is better to marry
than to burn.
You came.
When called.
Walk with me.
We have a choice, it seems.
You seek one who would give his life to restore the Church to its glory.
Yes.
And you don't offer yourself?
This is too well known.
So,
you need one without fame, without acquaintance,
a neophyte within the Vatican walls.
Nobody can know of him.
Nobody knows of me.
You realise the implications of your words?
Yes.
I would gladly die to rid the world of the Borgia pope.
By poison.
Cantarella.
It will be a grisly death.
But heaven will await my soul.
I would welcome it.
Cardinal.
Your lady is...
Lady Sforza is awake.
My Lord Sforza.
I arrived in the early hours.
You must have.
You have business with your cousin?
Matters of state, always.
So she requested your presence here?
She told me it would be appreciated.
And can you tell me why?
You brought your father's proposal with you.
My father, the Pope?
I can only think of him as your father.
And the father of that slattern I was tricked into marrying.
Be careful, Lord Sforza.
- Of what? - I hold my sister's interests dear.
I am aware of that.
You humiliated me before the whole of Rome.
You shall have your answer, Cesare Borgia.
It is why I am still here, my lady.
My answer is simple.
It is no.
Let me be clear.
You refuse to come to Rome?
My cousin refuses to debase herself
before that swine that wears the papal tiara.
That question was for her, My Lord.
And you have her answer.
Yes, and you will have mine.
Run!
I promised my sister your heart on a dinner plate!
Holy Father!
I can find no heart!
Stay there! Don't move!
Go! Now go! Go!
Run, run, run!
Murder! Murder!
Murder!
No.
No!
Guards, stop him!
Here!
Help!
Help.
Somebody, help!
Oh, please, God.
Oh, come on.
Papa, I can't feel my leg.
We'll get you some help.
Borgia!
No!
Stop him!
Micheletto!
Seal the city!
Archers ready! Release!
Shoot them!
Papa.
Oh, no.
We should ride different ways.
Wrap this in your saddlebag.
I will give it to my sister.
Whose blood?
Giovanni Sforza's.
Come!
There are others alive in there!
Let me, Holy Father.
So, if anybody's willing...
It is the judgement of God, Holy Father.
And God will judge your actions now!
So, please, if anyone is willing...
Wait!
Was it a sign from God, Cardinal?
No, Your Holiness.
It was a bolt of lightning.
He signalled His displeasure.
We must atone
for our sins
with fasting and prayer.
For how long?
Until he
smiles on us
again.