Previously on The Borgias...
We were attacked. From all sides.
What should have been a glorious victory
is an ignominious defeat.
Cesare was in Florence. Why did he not come to warn us?
How could he have known?
How could he not have known?
My brother, the hero.
Rumour has it, Caterina Sforza raised her skirts,
and said, "I can have 1 0 more sons."
Lies!
Do you know what is more poisonous than failure?
Ridicule!
We have a hazard, Brother Bernadino.
But while the Pope still has a taster, my mission remains in purgatory.
God forgive us all.
We hear that fires burn in Florence, and that Savonarola still preaches.
He says that visions are put into his mind by angels.
Well, that could give us cause to burn him.
Calvino Pallavicini, and his good-for-nothing brother,
repose at our expense.
We would see a betrothal today!
Your brother? It is your brother who travels with you, yes?
Lucrezia. Are you saying yes to my brother?
All praise.
This wound will not let me rest.
- What is it they're smoking? - It is opium.
Come. Ease your pain.
Perhaps we should find someone else to lead the papal forces in your stead.
I defend this papacy, I defend this family, with my heart.
Juan, you are in no fit state to defend anything.
Not even yourself.
Make it absolutely clear that it's not possible...
Your Holiness, an urgent matter.
Holy Father.
- What is this? - Holiness...
- Just one moment. - Holy Father.
I cannot marry your daughter.
We are the Pope of Rome.
And you tell us,
you cannot marry our daughter?
Why?
Holy Father.
We think we know what you are about to say.
I wish to marry your daughter.
What a revelation.
And is our daughter party to this proposal?
- Yes, I hope she is, Holiness. - You hope.
Would it not have been prudent to inquire
before you apprehended us in this manner?
I am an honourable man, Holiness.
I humbly beg your blessing to marry your daughter, Lucrezia.
We think you have lost sight of your moorings, young sir.
Your brother is a man of means, a first son,
he commands a vast fleet of ships trading untold wealth.
You are a second son,
command as far as we are aware, no more than a paint brush.
- Holy Father. - What is it, Cardinal?
Your taster, Brother Bernadino.
What of him?
He is dead.
How? Poisoned?
No, he drowned in the Tiber whilst fishing.
Well, how did that happen?
It was an accident.
Accident?
Bodies are pulled from the Tiber every day.
God rest his soul.
And damn yours!
And yours!
And all of you!
Thank you for your help.
Vanozza!
- Did you know of this? - Of what?
That our daughter, betrothed to one, gives herself to the brother?
Lucrezia? It's not possible. How could she be so foolish?
With the help of those around her, perhaps?
What advice did you give her?
I merely said that if she married to please you,
she may yet love to please herself.
And you thought that wise?
I married one of your choosing to be free to love you.
But you were not the Pope's daughter!
Rodrigo, she will love whom she chooses.
She is a Borgia.
I hear the Pallavicini boys have gone.
Yes, because you would marry a pauper with a paint brush.
I would have married Calvino Pallavicini,
as you bid, dear Father.
But if I had followed my heart,
I doubt I would have married either of them.
So, the future of this family is in thrall to your heart?
If it is, it needs mending...
Like my heart.
Here lie the ashes of countless treasures.
Savonarola's Bonfire of the Vanities.
The fire burned for days.
People added more to keep the flames alive.
The people of Florence had a good life.
How can this Savonarola rob them of all this,
and yet still have them clinging to his every word?
If you can understand that, Your Eminence,
then you will have the key to bring down the man.
Break the spell, break the man.
Holiness, your security is paramount.
Therefore, until we find a suitable recruit,
I have decided to take on the role of food taster myself.
Greater love hath no man.
We will vet personally those who you choose.
They should all be from Holy Orders, pure in spirit.
But now, Cardinal, your attention, please.
We will hold a ritual in the basilica.
Preparations should be made in the next two days.
- An anathema. - An excommunication.
Friar Savonarola.
We have charged Cardinal Borgia
to silence him,
to accuse him of heresy in full view of the entire populace of Florence.
Whereas here in Rome, from the throne of St Peter's,
we will condemn his soul to the fires of hell.
These people trust their fates, their fortunes,
to the power of spells.
Come.
Savonarola understands that what haunts a man's mind in the night
is what rules him.
He trades in the fear of hell.
Untie me!
I tell you!
Please!
I've done nothing!
Here is a different kind of bonfire.
Damn you all!
God will punish you!
What is her crime?
She is a witch.
People believe she has the power to cast them into hell.
Fear.
Fear of damnation,
and the hope for a better life in the next world.
That is what Savonarola promises.
He trades in miracles.
Show him to be wrong,
the man will burn.
Just like the witch.
- Damn you! - Damn your soul!
God will punish you!
Burn, you witch!
No!
God will punish you!
Heathen! Heathen!
Black-hearted vixen!
- Glorify us! - Purify her!
If angels can fall from heaven into hell,
then so can we all.
Purify your soul!
The demon waits to devour us.
Then we must go wrestle with the demon.
Burn in hell!
Protect us!
Damnation for you!
Damnation!
Are fulfilled the sayings of Isaiah...
They declare their sin as Sodom, they hide it not.
Jeremiah...
Thou hadst a whore's forehead, thou refusedst to be ashamed.
You defend yourselves to your soul's damnation!
Girolamo Savonarola, I am Cardinal Cesare Borgia,
and I come bearing the authority of His Holiness, Alexander VI,
Pope of Rome!
Here is the Pope's messenger, his bastard son!
One of many, we hear, fathered across the nation.
Brother Savonarola, you stand accused
of defying papal orders to cease your heretical preaching,
and of refusing to present yourself in Rome,
to bend your knee to our Holy Father.
I recognise no such power!
My authority comes from a higher being
than your godless Pope in Rome!
Then we must put it to the test.
A trial by fire.
The whole of Florence can be judge and jury.
I challenge you, here in this temple of God.
As Christ, our Saviour, walked on water,
if you can walk through fire, untouched,
then I will follow you into the flames.
- God will protect you, Father! - Show us, Father!
Children.
God speaks to me.
I am not afraid.
I will walk through the fire.
And he that follows me will burn.
Do you remember the old days?
Do you?
We were friends.
We did everything together.
Now look what pain you cause me.
Have I betrayed you or have you betrayed me?
Answer me, you bastard.
As usual...
You have nothing to say.
But still you rule my life.
"Wherefore in the name of God, the all-powerful,
"Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
"of Blessed Peter, Prince of the Apostles,
"and of all the saints,
"in virtue of the power which has been given us
"of binding and loosing in heaven and on Earth."
- May God be my witness! - We believe in you!
I testify that Alexander Sextus of Rome is no Pope!
He is no Christian,
and believes in no God!
I will walk through this fire
to show I speak God's truth!
"We deprive the Friar, Girolamo Savonarola, himself,
"and all his abettors,
"of the communions of the body and blood of our Lord.
"We separate him from the society of all Christians.
"We exclude him from the bosom of our Holy Mother, the Church,
"in heaven and on Earth.
"We declare him excommunicated,
"and anathematized,
"and we judge him condemned to eternal fire
"with Satan and his angels and all those damned,
"so long as he will not burst the fetters of the demon,
"do penance, and satisfy the Church.
"We deliver him to Satan to mortify his body..."
Burn.
"...that his soul may be saved
"on the day of judgement."
He burns!
Betrayer!
We gave everything for you.
- Get him. - Give him to us!
Take him to Rome.
You will present yourself to the Pope as a Franciscan.
You will be asked why you would accept such a task.
And what is your answer?
Because I would gladly die in the service of the Pope of Rome.
And you will mean every word you say.
I will, Father.
If hired, you will bide your time.
You will choose your moment.
You may have one chance, and one chance only,
to deliver a fatal dose.
Fatal for both of us.
May God be with you.
There is something I'd like to say.
It's long been my suspicion that my brother
has congress with my angelic sister.
The issue of such a union would produce a demon to devour the world...
And me.
No one is listening.
What's the matter with him?
Has he been drinking? Get up!
Take him to our apartments. Let him sleep it off.
Father. Father.
Take your hands off me!
The Friar, Savonarola, he's been disgraced.
The people of Florence celebrate.
We greet this good news with caution.
- Has he confessed? - He will.
He is being hauled to Rome as we speak.
So all is not yet won.
Father, when the rack embraces him, he will confess.
But he must be seen to be guilty, hence the need for his confession.
The people must understand
that no one is at liberty to impugn the office of the papacy. No one!
And he must sign his confession and then...
And then we will put him to the fire.
A public spectacle.
And no relics must remain.
Holiness, I have examined the applicants
for the post of food taster and reduced them to three.
A trinity, good. Come observe.
Rise.
A Cistercian.
We are aware.
Show us your hands.
You would save us from poison,
but poison us with grime.
We till the soil, Holy Father.
As the Apostle James.
- Hands. - A Dominican.
Yes, Holy Father.
We are acquainted with your brethren in Florence.
Show us your hands.
Why do you desire to serve us?
I will gladly die to preserve the life of His Holiness,
secure in the knowledge
that the Lord Jesus Christ stands behind me
and His light shines through me.
What is your name?
Antonello.
You are a Franciscan, young martyr?
Yes, Father.
Holiness.
Our confessor was a Franciscan.
We are fasting.
Are you prepared for a diet of sardines?
As his Holiness eats, so shall I.
Then prepare to starve in our service.
Give the other two a meal.
Send them on their way.
The man is a bear, Eminence.
Brand him, gouge him, stretch him to the limit.
Believe me, this man will not break.
He must be seen to be guilty. He must confess.
Welcome to Rome.
Reflect.
Had you forsworn your heresies, embraced Rome,
the Holy Church would be embracing you now.
Lies ooze from your mouth like pus from a dead horse.
All that awaited me was the Castel Sant'Angelo.
Well, it is all that awaits you now.
True confession
can only be extracted by torture.
Is that not so?
That is so.
Torture is hard work for a soft stomach.
Are you sure you're up to it?
It is not me who will be tortured.
Have no doubt, you will sign your confession.
By then you will be an old man.
Lent is over.
Our 40 days in the wilderness have passed.
But we have deemed it God's will that we continue our fast.
But, Your Holiness, the bells ring.
Christ, the Redeemer is risen.
Surely, Easter is a time for celebration.
You may eat, Cardinal Piccolomini.
But the Pope of Rome will abstain.
Alone, if needs be,
until God smiles upon St Peter's once more.
Sardines, if you please.
No, no, no wine. We just drink water.
My preference is to eat sardines, Your Holiness.
We welcome your company, Cardinal Versucci.
The water is pure, Your Holiness.
So we shall drink water...
And water alone.
- Amen. - Amen.
Are you an assassin?
No, I am Thisbe, come to whisper my love.
Would you have us be your Pyramus?
That story ended tragically, he fell upon his sword.
No.
But I would still whisper my love into your ear.
This abstinence grows tiresome.
We've spent so long in the wilderness.
Why do you persist in punishing yourself
when your labours bear fruit?
It is God that punishes, not we ourselves.
Yes, but God has given his blessing to your work.
A bathhouse has been restored.
An orphanage will bear your name.
The poor of Rome have bread.
Your papacy is a blessing to all.
You are doing God's will.
Is that not sign enough?
Yes.
Maybe you're right.
We've been thinking too much of our self.
There's one other blessing you must confer.
There is?
Lucrezia's son.
Your grandson, Giovanni.
He needs the Holy Sacraments of baptism.
Giovanni, yes, of course.
His welfare is our duty.
Both in this world and the next.
We would not have that angel condemned to purgatory.
Nor this angel.
Are you spying?
We are rejoicing at such a beauteous sight.
The Pope rejoices once more?
We have been in the wilderness, my love.
For our sins.
But it would be a sin
to condemn little Giovanni to that wilderness as well.
Do you mean...
We would see him baptised.
It is long past the time.
He shall be named and blessed in the eyes of God for all to see.
It is my prayer.
And we shall have festivities worthy of such a beautiful Madonna and child.
And Cesare must be the godfather.
- Yes. - Yes.
- Amen. - Amen.
Why wait so long to bless this bastard?
Bastard yourself, Juan Borgia.
Thanks to you, Holy Mother.
Take care not to stand too close. God knows what might rub off on you.
God knows why you're even here.
My father discarded you long ago.
What happened to you, Juan?
You were such a lovely child.
A drink, if you please, little brother.
Water, of course, Holy Father?
No, no, no, wine. We would have wine.
Take care, we would not have you spill the wine.
It comes from our vineyards in Spain, Valencia.
Too precious to spill. Taste it, you will see.
I only know, Holy Father, that it is wine.
Drink a little more.
Let's see your eyes.
Not a trace of red. Pour.
We are done with fasting.
We would celebrate the baptism of our grandson
with an abundance of wine.
- Father. - Lucrezia.
I would toast you and our grandson, Giovanni.
He is tired, nurse.
- Father... - What?
- I have a gift for you. - For me?
A dance.
Angels and virgins.
Angels.
No, flesh and blood, brother, as you well know.
Don't pretend that nothing stirs
beneath that Cardinal's skirt of yours.
Tell me, is it true what people are chanting and singing,
as our father said, "Ten more sons"?
Would you start another brawl with me?
And spoil the idyll of this beautiful dance? Never.
It was a foolish insult.
It cost her son his life.
Why do you shake your head?
Because it's not true. Her son lives.
He can't have lived. I saw him hang.
What you did not see, is Don Hernando de Caballos
saved him and brought him here to Rome.
So where is he now?
Back at Forlì, with his mother.
So why bring him to Rome?
He had an audience with His Holiness, the Pope.
I see your purpose here, your pathetic, fervent hope.
You want to inhabit my shoes.
Wear my armour.
Carry my sword.
But what you don't realise is that I am the prodigal son.
And our father is never wrong.
I am the light of his life!
You must resign yourself, Cesare.
For you will end your life in a clerical skirt.
Brava! Brava!
Sister.
So, finally, the bastard has a name.
Blessed by our Holy Father, and saved from damnation.
And you, dear brother, will you be saved from damnation?
The angels smile on me.
Please don't.
One day you'll realise that everything I've done has been for your own good.
If you had tried to marry that waster from Genova,
the one with the paint brush,
I would have taken good care of him.
For the good of the family, no doubt.
Always.
Like you took care of Paolo?
A stable boy.
For the good of the family.
Exactly so.
Everything I do is for the family.
Were it not for our Father's affection of your bastard son,
I'd have tossed that piglet into the Tiber at birth.
That's the only baptism it deserves.
We are all bastards.
You, me, our brothers. We are all bastards.
Yes.
Perhaps.
But we are Borgia bastards.
And there, dear sis, lies the difference.
Hello, little piggy, time for a little dance, I think.
Leave my baby!
Juan, leave my baby alone!
No! No!
Leave my baby alone!
The Pope of Rome! Can you believe it?
Can you imagine!
Here, take my hand.
Poison.
Tell me about poison.
It kills, with no hope of reprieve.
I would happily kill tonight.
And break your father's heart?
Would that be the consequence?
Indeed.
He loves his errant son, does he not?
More than he loves his dutiful one.
Well, then, love is blind.
Blind and deaf and dumb.
No killing then.
Hearts may yet be broken.
But not yours.
Ten more sons!
Ten more, ten more, ten more sons!
Ten more, ten more, ten...
- Forgive us, My Lord. - Sorry.
Sorry.
Father, we must discuss our brother.
He is hurtling towards ruin.
And he will drag this whole family with him.
You loved him once. You must love him again.
Must I?
Will love make him a better man?
Help him
through his dark night.
Don't let envy rule your heart.
- So I am my brother's keeper? - Yes.
He needs you.
As counsel, as support...
As Cardinal.
He needs you.
Come on, say it again, "Ten more sons."
- Ten more sons. - And again.
- Ten more... - Say it!
You think this is wise, My Lord?
Where would you put the body?
Take your hand off me, or you're a dead man.
You press...
You press in the wrong spot, My Lord.
You press here.
She is dead in a moment.
You'll suffer for this.
My Lord.
Let me help you.
Evening, my friend.
Tell me, do you have a man named Juan visiting your home this night?
I would consider your answer carefully.
Yes, he is here.
Tell him his brother would speak with him.
Nothing to fear.
Brother.
Have you come to beg forgiveness for your insult?
I have.
You are already forgiven.
Imagine that you are sitting on the edge of a vast well,
your feet dangling over the edge.
Moving slowly around the walls of the well, like smoke,
there's a world of wonders reaching down,
as far down as the eye can see.
These wonders are your life.
I glimpse us, Cesare.
Two brothers in harmony, walking together.
All these visions are the work of tears.
Tears of blood.
No.
Tears of the poppy.
Everything is there for you to see.
Birth.
And, of course, your death.
But the miracle is that there's no pain.
I have been in pain, Cesare, for all my years.
And you...
You are in pain, brother. I can feel it.
Yes, I am in pain.
You would end your pain?
Yes.
And I would end yours.
My brother...
What is this?
Only God forgives.
We're Borgias.
We never forgive.
I stand in awe, Your Eminence.
You killed your father.
Still, I stand in awe.