Previously on The Borgias...
May I present Don Hernando de Caballos.
He was at the siege of Granada.
We have a siege in mind.
Caterina Sforza has been threatening war.
Give her occasion to bend her knee to Rome.
Grab the boy! Grab the boy!
Here is your son!
He is waiting to die.
I have the means to produce ten more sons!
May I present my brother, Calvino Pallavicini da Genova.
Lady, I am honoured.
It's the brother, yes?
- Why not? - Your father will never agree.
You are marrying for all of us, Lucrezia, not just yourself.
For family!
Girolamo Savonarola!
This edict finds you guilty of disseminating pernicious doctrines
You are hereby ordered to suspend your sermons and prophecies.
I will use it to wipe my ass!
We have one among us who would be a martyr.
Take note of the man with the water jug.
He's the Pope's taster.
Ludovico of Milan is marching on Forli.
Could a messenger reach my brother in time to warn him?
That would depend on how fast the messenger chooses to ride.
We are under attack!
Kill the boy! Hang him!
- Your Holiness? - Holiness, may we intrude?
Holiness, we have received some news.
Well,
it must be good news to cause such levity. Go on. Tell us.
Charles, the King of France...
Go on.
He is dead.
This is cause for amusement?
No, not to me, Holiness.
It appears he banged his head.
While stooping through a low doorway.
After playing tennis.
Being short, it is a miracle that he found a doorway low enough.
There was more steel
in that heroic king's diminished frame than can be found in both your bodies.
Shame on you. You shall both kneel.
Say the Rosary one dozen times
for the repose of his eternal soul.
On reflection,
make that three dozen.
Faster! Careful!
Faster!
Stop. Stop!
Help me.
- Help me! - Sorry, My Lord.
We were attacked.
From all sides.
Ludovico Sforza's army came like a flood from the forest.
We fought long and hard.
I got hit
by an arrow in the leg.
I could not move. But we fought on, back to back.
Men cried, "For God, for Alexander,"
as they perished.
Then I fell.
I lost my sensibility.
And the battle faded.
When I awoke,
all I could hear
were the cries of the dying.
But I escaped in the dark.
We commend your bravery, but what should have been a glorious victory
is an ignominious defeat.
Il Moro must have had word.
Of this, it is certain.
Cesare was in Florence.
Why did he not come to warn us of Ludovico's attack?
How could he have known?
An army was on the move!
How could he not have known? Cesare was in Florence
with Machiavelli.
Machiavelli has spies!
Machiavelli knows everything!
There.
Who is it?
Tell him who you are.
Look at me, boy.
Come closer or I'll come in there and get you.
This is Caterina Sforza's son, Benito.
What's he doing here?
What happened to your hand? Show me.
A finger was cut off.
- Who by? - Do I need to tell you?
Look at his arms, his neck.
Come, show me.
Come.
Juan did this?
An order was given for him to be hanged.
I saved him.
Did Juan bring him to Rome?
No, no, he believes the boy to be dead.
He is here for safekeeping.
The Cardinal gave me the key to this place.
- What Cardinal? - Sforza.
The boy, the Cardinal, they are family.
The poison in this wound runs deep.
He will lose an arm or hand, at least.
Best I kill you now.
And kill the truth? This boy saw what happened at the siege.
He witnessed your brother run like a coward.
So why did you save him?
It is a matter of honour.
I fight men, not boys.
Pity.
Get off!
Go. Go!
My brother, the hero.
Did I say "stop"?
Your brother
fought to within an inch of his life.
He says that you had knowledge of the attack against him,
but that you failed to send him a warning.
If you want to know the truth of what happened at Forlì,
you must ask those who were there.
Multitudes of men died.
We must atone for their deaths.
But you think
that there is another story?
Our Holy Father has forbidden discord between his sons.
I am here to obey my father
and to neither praise nor condemn my brother.
But if
we had divested you of your robes, if you were at the Siege of Forlì,
would you have triumphed?
I would have been there to the end.
We will learn the truth of this.
But now,
to another matter that weighs upon our papacy.
We hear that fires burn bright
in Florence
and the Friar Savonarola still preaches.
The people flock to him.
You gave him our apostolic letter commanding his silence?
And he wiped his ass upon it.
So we must lay charges of heresy against him.
- And he will laugh... - Laugh in our face. We know.
I do not have authority to lay the charge of heresy.
Patience.
You will have it.
You will return
to Florence once more
and it will be as if God's Vicar himself stands before him.
If it is your wish, Holy Father.
Not ours alone, Cesare.
Remember, it is God's work that we do.
Now, somewhere in here,
it is written
that we have the power
to pronounce an ecclesiastical curse upon this friar.
A God-given power to condemn him to Hell.
In a ritual.
Your Holiness?
What did he tell you?
- Of whom do you speak, brother? - Hernando de Caballos.
He told me of your bravery at Forlì.
How you stood side by side with your men and fought bravely on.
How you upheld the name of Borgia
and protected the honour of our family.
What else do you think he might have told me, brother?
And what did you tell our father?
What could I tell him? You know the truth.
You were there.
Have faith, Your Eminences.
Only 14 days until the end of Lent.
Pure, Your Holiness.
We remain in the wilderness.
A living death.
True.
Yet, each time he returns to life with a renewed spirit.
He's at one with life,
yet willing to go happily to his own death.
He is ready, then.
You have done your work.
Yes, but we have a hazard, Brother Sylvio.
What is that?
Brother Bernadino.
The Pope's taster.
Yes, of course.
For as long as he remains by the Pope's side,
our mission is in purgatory.
- I hear the man is a charitable soul. - There is the point.
It is one thing to kill this pernicious Pope,
for which we have blessing,
but it is quite another to kill this Brother Bernadino,
a man of God, devoted to his faith.
We, too, must have faith.
God will guide us.
What's your prediction?
- Of your condition? - What else?
In a word, My Lord, in the long term,
blindness, madness, death.
- That is three words. - And then there is your leg.
If the contamination cannot be abated, it may have to be removed.
My leg?
That is to be my destiny,
a pox-ridden blind madman with one leg?
We pray not, Excellency. Relief is at hand.
Here is a medicament much appreciated by our Roman ancestors,
an extraction of homegrown efflorescence.
Tell me what it does.
It has long been known to relieve pain,
such as that in your leg, and it also calms
disturbances of the bowel.
And let us not forget my privy member.
I have often thought that a fortune might be made by its export.
What's it called?
It's commonly called opium.
Sometimes it is referred to as the tears of the poppy.
How very poetic.
Calvino Pallavicini, his good-for-nothing brother,
and his entire retinue of aides and auxiliaries,
repose at our expense,
while we wait for our daughter to emerge from her chamber.
We would see an end to this procrastination!
I wish I hadn't been volunteered for this.
Far better to arrange a funeral. The dead don't bicker.
The Pallavicini are a family of immense power and influence.
Calvino Pallavicini is a merchant of wealth,
they have a vast array of ships, and what's more, he has Spanish blood!
- On the mother's side. - Well, any side will do!
We would see a betrothal today!
We will do what we can.
- Thank you! - Although why I am charged
with this task remains a mystery.
Well, long may it remain so.
Incoming!
We need more hands on the top level!
Good!
Beautiful.
We are being ridiculed, my sons.
From Rome to Venice.
The Friar Savonarola is howling his iniquities from Florence.
Posted on every tavern wall,
scrawled and scribbled,
Caherina Sforza's supposed words,
"Ten more sons."
- I have heard these words. - A scurrilous fancy, Father.
But rumour has it
that you captured her son
and she stood on the battlements, raised her skirts above her head,
and said, "Don't you realise, Borgia, I can have 1 0 more sons?"
Lies, Father.
We would know the truth.
I captured her son,
laid siege to her castle,
Ludovico Sforza came to her aid,
and her son died in the heat of the battle.
To which you gave your all.
Why do you say that?
Look!
This wound is killing me!
What more is there for me to give?
It's all right, sit down.
Cesare.
I have no tale to tell.
The tale you do not tell is why you chose not to warn me
of Ludovico Sforza's attack.
Had I known, I would have warned you.
How could you not have known?
I was sent by our Holy Father on a different mission.
Had you not laid siege to Caterina Sforza's bed,
there would have been no bloodshed.
Ten more sons.
Quiet. Quiet.
Come on.
Do you know what is more poisonous
than failure in war or politics?
Ridicule!
Lady Lucrezia.
You see, I'm following your instructions.
- Only meat. - Good.
I have never seen these rooms before.
- My father has made you comfortable? - Yes. Most generous.
And your brother?
I believe it is your brother who travels with you, yes?
Yes.
Yes, he has a chamber here.
He's not here at this time.
Your Excellency, I think it is not appropriate that we are alone together
without attendants. You must excuse me.
My Lady. Lady Lucrezia.
You are very beautiful.
Thank you.
And you, your Excellency, you are most handsome.
- Enjoy. God bless you! - Fresh fish! Fresh fish!
His Holiness has immersed himself in a theatre of penitence.
He has discovered sobriety, abstinence.
It's as if the Lenten fast had only just been invented.
The Pope's taster buys his food, chooses his fish,
guts them, prepares them.
- You don't like the smell of fish? - No.
But while the Pope still has a taster, my mission remains in purgatory.
I want only the best for His Holiness.
God will show us the way.
The boy, Benito, I leave him in your charge,
for safekeeping. He must be given life.
You are an honoured guest, Don Hernando.
I would have you stay.
Your Eminence,
I do not wish to play this game I see you all play.
You Borgias. The Sforzas. Orsini. Medici.
All of you, here in this beautiful land.
God gives you riches, and you kill for more.
I would have no part of this.
I have said all I wish to say of Forlì.
You know the truth.
And your father, he seeks truth he already knows.
I would leave now,
before you find my body floating in the Tiber.
The man I am to replace,
the Pope's taster, what kind of man is he? Do you know him?
I know of him.
- Is he of this order? - No, he's not.
Why do you ask, little Brother?
That I might learn how best to become the Pope's taster.
Is he a man of God?
He's known to be a charitable soul.
Every day he distributes food to the poor.
- So, he is a man of God, then? - Wrong question.
The question is, does Brother Bernadino serve a man of God?
If goodness places itself in the service of badness,
does it still deserve the name?
As a taster,
you must know your trade.
Which would you like?
- It is impossible. I cannot decide. - Choose.
This is torrone with hazelnuts.
- And this is canditi. - Yes.
- I love them both. - Then which one will you eat?
I don't know.
What's your name?
Mother, what a question!
- What game is this? - The game is your name, Lucrezia.
What is your name?
- Lucrezia. - Lucrezia who?
- Borgia. - Yes.
Borgia. Do you understand?
You are a Borgia.
You can have both, Lucrezia Borgia.
Now I see the game.
It is a game of love.
- And lust. - And marriage.
Which is Raffaello and which is Calvino?
It doesn't matter.
That's the point of the game. Have both.
Marry one and have the other.
Have them one at a time or two together, it's no matter.
After a while you will tire of both and take a lover.
Lucrezia, look at me. Look me in the eye.
Eat.
And now the other.
- Delicious. - There.
You see.
There's room for two.
Yes.
- Here he is. - My Lord.
- This is Mohammed. - Mohammed?
- Here in the Holy City? - He can help you ease your pain.
Go with him. Trust him.
All will be well.
Doctor.
Come, my friend. Please.
Almost there now. Come.
Harrek.
Breathe in slow.
Here you will find nothing but friends.
What is it they're smoking?
It is opium.
When you cut the poppy, it cries.
Come. Join your new friends.
Ease your pain.
Poor, poor Benito Sforza.
What is to be done with you, boy?
Washed up in Rome like a stray dog.
Should I kill you?
Would it be a kindness to put you down?
Because I am my mother's son?
Your mother is a whore, boy.
Reason enough, I would say.
My master summons you, boy.
You have truths to tell.
You are to come with me.
To my death?
Remains to be seen.
- Who are you? - Holy Father,
I must speak with you.
I'm...
What... What have they done?
Who are you?
I am Benito Sforza,
the son of Caterina Sforza,
and I am here to tell you...
I'm here to tell you
what truly happened
at the Siege of Forlì.
My son!
So late to bed?
I'm a sleepwalker.
This wound will not let me rest.
Is it your body or your soul that needs healing?
Your defeat at Forlì may be atoned for.
We were betrayed, Father.
Surely, you must realise that?
If I'd had word of the attack, Caterina Sforza
would be here now in irons.
And her son, Benito?
Her son?
What of him?
He's dead.
A small consolation.
Perhaps we should suspend enmities.
Regroup our forces.
Until my leg is healed.
Find someone else to lead the Papal Forces in your stead.
I lead your armies.
I defend this papacy, I defend this family,
- with my heart and with my soul. - Juan,
in your condition you are in no fit state to defend anything.
Not even yourself.
If you were to rob my sword from me,
my position,
my respect,
then there is a price to pay.
If you
take my honour,
you must take my life.
Mine to give,
- yours to take. - Juan.
Juan, you must sleep.
I will sleep with the knowledge that my estate is secure.
Your estate
remains in your hands.
Now, come on.
Go and rest.
Boy, see to the horses!
I'll come back for the others.
Cardinal Borgia.
His Holiness sends this boy to you and charges you to return him
on your journey to Florence.
To where?
In his own words, to the one who gave him life.
His mother.
What's this?
It's from the Holy Father himself.
- An olive branch for my mother. - Peace?
An offering.
Here.
Cardinal.
Lady Lucrezia.
Raffaello Pallavicini da Genova.
I see you have been drawing.
Some sketches, from the Roman ruins on the Via Aurelia.
I know it well.
I think you have dropped something.
No, I think not.
Yes, believe me. I saw you drop it.
I think you had better read it without delay.
Drink.
Lucrezia.
Are you saying yes to my brother?
And I am saying yes to you.
I'll say yes to your brother to keep you here.
Torrone morbido or canditi.
Which would you have?
I like them both.
So have both.
Fresh fish! Fresh fish!
Fish for Lent!
Keep up with me, boy.
They say drowning is like dreaming.
Who is to know that?
Whoever came back from the dead to tell?
Just give me the word, Eminence, and it is done.
He carries an olive branch.
And this would bring peace?
I doubt it.
This boy is marked for life.
He has the smell of revenge about him.
Let me kill him now and that is an end to it.
You may be right, but...
Ready!
I just offered to drown you in that stream.
My master said no.
They say drowning is like dreaming.
And how do you know that?
I heard you tell your master.
Sweet Lady Lucrezia,
since my arrival here in Rome I have been captivated
by the Holy City,
whose beauty is only eclipsed
by the beauty of the woman I now see before me.
So true.
As heir to my father,
Agostino Pallavicini da Genova, this barque
I present to you
is a symbol
of the exotic treasures and riches which our fleet of ships
carry from around the globe
to our mighty port of Genova. All that is mine,
I now lay at your feet.
We share a proud Spanish heritage
and I pray to the almighty God who rules us all
that you will accept this offer of marriage
and of a binding alliance between our families
against our common foes.
I thank you.
Then, my answer is...
Yes.
All praise.
This is an historic occasion.
At last.
You have brought light into our lives.
We thank the saints that have given you this wisdom.
You remember this moment
as an act of mercy.
This dog will come back and bite.
What was it the Spaniard said?
I fight men, not boys.
Open the gate!
Summon Lady Sforza! Open the gate!
Bless you, little one.
You requested confession.
Yes.
I confess I have sinned.
And what is the nature of your sin?
You must know it, Cardinal. Or at least suspect.
- What could I suspect? - Murder.
I created a vacancy in the papal household.
I killed the one I must replace.
Brother Bernadino.
My God.
One gentle push while the good brother fished the river
was all that was needed.
He struggled but the weight of his robes dragged him down.
God forgive us all.
Am I fulfilling my mission, Cardinal?
More than one could ever have hoped.