Borgia (2011) s03e08 Episode Script

1 Fifteen oh-two.
Lucrezia Borgia is engaged to marry.
May God bless this union with eternal bliss and ten strong children.
Pope Alexander suffers through a painful divorce.
- Gacet! - Gacet is gone, Holiness.
His Highness Cesare Borgia grapples with betrayal across the Romagna.
Borgia, as we speak, your own general, Vitelli, conspires to overthrow you.
De Lorqua, you will remain in Faenza as governor.
What brings them joy brings us joy as well.
- He is magnificent.
- While life - The baby is a boy.
- And Silvia? death, love, and vengeance penetrate the Borgia family.
I have granted your request allowing you to murder di Calabria, yet guaranteeing that Lucrezia will never suspect you.
- I am forever in your debt.
- Yes.
Yes, you are.
Mama.
You come so early and unannounced.
- I love to hear you call me mama.
- Well, are you not my mother? Not enough.
I have acted more like a jealous sister.
Once I was La Rosa, the most beautiful woman in Rome.
More beautiful than Giulia.
These days, I look in the mirror and I see a face I do not recognize.
The time has come to accept that she is me.
Especially now that you will move to Ferrara with your true love, Alfonso d'Este.
My true love I am not certain that what I feel for Alfonso is true love.
How can this be? I am troubled by the same nightmare each hour I sleep.
I see d'Este lording over the body of di Calabria as the victor in a duel of death.
And so I face my wedding day with dread.
Bajazet Veli, padishah of the Ottoman Empire presents a special envoy Aslam Aslam Gacet.
Supreme Pontiff of the Roman Church, Bajazet the Just, with deepest respect, offers you Leave.
- his most sincere - Leave now.
To dismiss the ambassador of the padishah is to dismiss the padishah himself.
Fine.
Fine.
Fine.
You stay.
All else, out! Verbum incarnatum.
- Should I remain, Grandpapa? - No.
How can we allow you to work for Bajazet with the many secrets you hold? Name your price.
You can retire like a Moorish prince.
You offer money.
In doing so, you insult me yet again.
Still do you do not know me.
Rodrigo, I would have died for you.
And would you now die for Bajazet? My obligations to the padishah are of a different nature.
He should be made aware of your perversities.
He already knows.
And he has perversities of his own.
Still, you are a danger.
Perhaps this will sway your mood.
The rarest gems of the Ottoman Empire.
Inform your master of our displeasure in his hiring you.
We will denounce you loudly in public, but we are losing our beloved daughter to Ferrara.
Though you cannot stand by our side your presence provides us with some mote of comfort as our world slowly disintegrates.
- Goddamn you, Cesare Borgia.
- Curse you, Borgia.
Please, for the love of God, please, a word.
Please.
I beg you, blessed one.
Take my son away from me.
Away from Faenza.
I beg you.
I beg you.
Why would a mother ever ask such a terrible favor? We are starving.
Donna coraggiosa, your son will not starve.
None of you will starve! You are an angel, sent by God.
- Blessed one.
- Onward.
- Hooray, Astorre.
- Blessed one.
- Astorre.
Astorre.
- Blessed one.
Welcome back, Your Grace.
You have returned not a moment too soon.
Our informants report Vitelli, Bentivoglio and Petrucci have combined their armies and are moving at an alarming speed against you, headed here to Faenza.
- Where are the traitors now? - Very close to Ravenna.
They will use the coast as a base camp to attack.
I am not surprised that their three heads combined result in the most obvious of tactics.
Still, urgent action is required.
Battles need to be fought, buffoons need to be fooled.
Where is Ramiro de Lorqua? Waiting for you in the throne room, the room he loves most.
Why, when I entered the city, was I greeted with eyes filled with venom and bile? Your governor rules with a cleaver and a sword.
The citizens pay him with gold or with their hands, one digit at a time.
De Lorqua has gone against all that I instructed.
I suspect for de Lorqua, anything short of murder is an act of kindness.
My liege, Faenza revels at your safe return.
I have much to discuss with you.
First, income from the manufacture of majolica has doubled, due to my skills at reorganization.
A gift for you.
The artisans use a glaze of tin to make the scene shine like a jewel.
Notice the details, the spear through the lines Did I not ask you to secure for me the love of Faenza's populace? - I have obeyed your orders.
- No, you taught them fear.
Distrust.
These people were an unruly lot.
Now they will do what you command.
- With their hands or without? - I leave them enough with which to work.
Do you fear me, Ramiro? I did not join Vitelli and the other mutineers because just as a Spanish hound adores his master I love you and only you, Cesare.
Then which keeps you by my side? Your love or your fear? - Goffredo Borgia, Prince of Squillace.
- Goffy! - My son, welcome to Rome.
- Welcome home.
I would not miss this wedding for all the terra cotta in Squillace.
- Mama.
- Oh! You are the size of Cesare.
Cousin.
Isabella, dear sister.
I have just had the pleasure of speaking to your son Aurelio.
You must be very proud of his achievements.
As proud as Vannozza is of you.
And how is your wife, Highness? She is, and will always be, a cunt.
- Pleasant surprise, Giulia.
- A surprise, really? Surely you know that among the women of Rome, I have the greatest durability.
We thank God for bringing our family together one last time.
- La famiglia.
- La famiglia.
King Federigo lives in fear of the impending attack on Naples by France.
He need not worry.
Spain will save his fat ass.
Spain's triumph may be our defeat, since Cesare serves King Louis.
And you serve Federigo.
We Borgia are covered front to back.
Most Holy Father, may I present my three younger brothers: Ippolito, bishop of Esztergom, soon to be a cardinal.
Ferrante, a brigadier in the Ferrara army.
And the youngest of us, Sigismondo.
Are you certain he is not the eldest? The burden of my priestly vocation weighs down my shoulders and pales my skin.
Do not those of us who are the wisest age the worst? There is a bird in Britannia so small you cannot see it.
I have one.
Please forgive my brother.
A disease has reached his brain.
He is useless.
Or he is the holiest of you all.
Vitelli has once again approached Florence, asking us to join his military alliance against you.
You are here.
Therefore, the signory continues to refuse.
Why anger France? Or the pope? Or you? And who is to say that, if you are gone, Vitelli or one of the others - will not try to be you? - Because no one can be me.
Niccolo, you come to tell me things.
But you come to read me as well, yes? Then read.
Can you see what is in my heart? Or is there only a pit where others have a soul? Do I love or merely pretend to? Why do my enemies wait to attack? They know where I am.
Here with the highborn men of Faenza eating off their painted plates.
The cabal is stymied.
Each man has his own agenda.
Each calculating how to swallow up the spoils.
None trusting the others or willing to commit to any hasty course of action.
Worse, they fear, in failure, your vindictiveness.
Then they have already lost.
If they have, they do not know.
The more I learn about my generals, the less I respect them.
Take Vitelli.
He has a fine reputation, but I have never seen him perform an act of bravery.
He is only good for pillaging the defenseless and killing the innocent from behind.
Who is he? Who are any of these men compared to me? None have the wit to hit me at the right time.
Nor will they have the leisure to repent their duplicity.
Dionigi, you have my battle plan? Take your troops and help those cowards with their indecision.
And I will appoint a new governor of Faenza.
- What of de Lorqua? He is still - Here, yes, but leaving.
He will be leaving us soon.
The saw and the wedge.
They are butcher's tools.
Used to slice pigs.
Please, I beg of you.
Let us remove the body for a Christian burial.
The cur is to remain in the piazza for every citizen to see until he is eaten by other curs.
Give him a burial! - Shame on you! - Get him off the square! Attacks against the Holy Church are increasing.
I knew the printing press was a catastrophe from the moment I first saw the hellish machine.
Which was when exactly? On the same day Giulia Farnese almost died in the Judaeorum borgo.
Pentecost of our Lord's year 1494.
Christ! I wish I had your memory.
My memory is reminded by pen and paper.
I write everything down.
Yes, of course, in the papal ledger.
Giulia Farnese does not appear on the official ledger.
I have been keeping my own ledger.
All of the Borgia family secrets.
Or at least the ones I witnessed.
Herr Burchard, you jest.
I am like Thomas, the doubting apostle.
I must see to believe.
Nobody has ever seen my diaries.
Nobody ever will.
I too have secrets, unshared.
And yet with you, I feel I can open my heart.
Giuliano.
Cesare has murdered de Lorqua, one of his last remaining loyal generals, and yet suffers no consequences.
De Lorqua deserved to die! We will not defeat the Borgia with lances, but with sentences.
Burchard's diaries Besmirching the papal family with derogatory pamphlets - has, in the past, failed.
- All were anonymously written.
Burchard's name bestows credibility upon Colonna's slanders and my castigations.
The kings of Europe will call a council to depose this mountebank of a pope.
You can count his reign in days.
Give them to Colonna for safekeeping.
He will consider such an act a sign of trust on my part.
And he will be left holding the incriminating evidence if things go to shit.
- Have you read Burchard's diaries? - Yes.
You must destroy them before Colonna and della Rovere expose their libelous content to the world.
I must? How? Colonna will hold a gathering to inaugurate a new painting by Jacopo Palma.
- You are invited, are you not? - Yes, but I have intention of going.
Once inside the palazzo, locate the diaries and You no longer owe loyalty to the pope.
Why do you care if these pages are circulated? When I was loyal, I acted solely in Rodrigo Borgia's interests.
There is much in those pages which would ruin my standing with my new employer.
I think that what you want is to give these diaries to your Turkish master and cause me to fall from papal grace, like Adam in Eden.
Burchard is a prude, whose self- righteousness allows little leeway.
When he recounts Cesare's misdeeds, he implicates the friends of Cesare as well.
Remolino, Giovanni de Medici, you.
I wonder how such scandal would taint your chances of becoming pope.
Please, be at ease, good fellows.
Astorre, may I borrow Signora Cleofe? I am willing, if Bella Bolognese agrees of course.
- What do you think of my friend there? - Stolen from the citizens of Rimini.
From their tyrant.
Who is the tyrant? Did you not slaughter most of the Malatesta? Pandolfo Malatesta cruelly oppressed his people.
And betrayed his word to me after I offered benign exile.
Is that why Dorotea fled from you and has hidden your daughter? Because you are benign? You have a razor tongue.
I speak with you only because Astorre Manfredi wishes me to.
Later you will fuck me because I wish to hear you scream.
Forgive me, Highness.
I have led our army back to Faenza in retreat.
Baglioni's troops have joined the other villains.
Their numbers were too great.
Faenza is now surrounded by our enemies.
You will go to France.
We need Louis to send more men at once.
If you were truly an honorable man, you would surrender.
I do not take military advice from a woman whose bosom outweighs her brain.
When Astorre Manfredi ruled alone, Faenza was never overrun with such horror and doom.
Come with me.
- Cesare, what will you do? - Tomorrow I leave for Rome.
- Rome? - To dance at my sister's wedding.
But what of your enemies? In the three years you have known me, what have you learned? Their spies will inform them that I left with no guard accompanying me.
Bentivoglio will argue that now is the time to attack.
Vitelli will say that this is some ploy of mine, a trap.
Baglioni will stutter.
My trip to Rome is such a blatant folly that they will sit on their asses for days in fear, cudgeling their brains to make sense of it.
Now I ask again.
What have you learned by observing me? That leadership is strongest when there is but one man who leads.
I love you, as everyone does.
I will leave Faenza with you.
Reports of strange practices in the New World waft across the ocean.
There exists a people who raise a boy to be a god.
They bow before the chosen one.
They bejewel him in brightly colored stones.
They give him the best of what they possess: food, palaces, women.
And after one year of adoring him, they kill him.
They open up his chest and remove his heart.
They chop up his body and eat his flesh.
Then they choose another boy.
- Would you accept such an agreement? - Cesare, do not No matter what I do or say.
No matter how gentle or how harsh my rule, the people of Faenza will always compare me to you.
Do you understand? I cannot kill you and I cannot let you live.
Tell me that you understand.
Explain my situation to me.
If you are to confound your traitorous generals, you must be certain that Faenza is fully under your control.
Yes, therefore? You cannot leave Faenza as long as I am alive because my subjects would demand that I retake the throne.
And would you accept their demand? I cannot lie to you.
I would.
And so I would be forced to retaliate, unleashing a terrible vengeance upon this wonderful city.
Then you must execute me.
I have eliminated many men, but you, sweet Astorre I loathe the idea of causing you harm.
As a soldier, you would be willing to die in battle.
- Yes, of course.
- So rather than by an enemy's arrow you will end your own life.
Tear open your own chest, pierce your own heart.
And I will watch and suffer with you, but I will not touch you until you are dead.
Then I will carry you in my arms before your people and read aloud your note of despair detailing the reasons why you have killed yourself.
You will beg them to love me in your place.
Finally, I will bury you amongst your ancestors in a golden tomb.
I love you, Cesare, more than my mortality.
Yes, I die gladly, so that Faenza and you will live.
- Beautiful.
- And this I will wear as I enter Ferrara.
Exquisite.
You are an artist, Ferrante? A drawing for my sister Isabella, the marchioness of Manuta.
She is desperate to know every item you own, every style you wear.
She is jealous of our Lucrezia? She is jealous of the moonlight, if the beam does not shine on her.
Angela, why do you never look me in the eye? I hope to have a wedding of my own.
You are to be a cardinal.
One day, when you are no longer young and sweet, when your skin slackens and your husband has lost his interest, you will realize that to be my mistress is better than being the wife of any other man.
Come, let us find some Roman whores.
The d'Este boys have limited goals: to fill their bellies and quench their desires.
They are men despite their pedigree.
I wonder how different can Alfonso be from his brothers having grown to fruition in the same orchard? What dark deed has my fiancé performed to gain a permanent place in my bed? - Ah.
- Cesare.
What specter of nature do I see before me? Lucrezia, goddesses of charm, creativity, beauty and fertility.
I am so relieved you are safe.
We heard that you were trapped in Faenza, your armies surrounded.
Rumors, Mama.
I am in no danger.
Except for the joyous danger which comes from loving my family beyond the realm of reason.
I have ordered 13 days of spectacle.
Races, masked balls and performances.
Let us not celebrate your wedding from a distance, for there is none between us.
My friends, I am pleased to feed your eyes with this sumptuous feast of art, commissioned by me, entitled the Violante.
Please give your praise to the perfectionist, Jacopo Palma.
Jacopo.
Titian once said: "He who improvises can never make a perfect line of poetry," thus painting is the willingness True.
True.
True.
True.
True.
True.
True.
True.
True.
True.
True.
True Fake.
Sorry, Alessandro, I did not think you would come.
Sweet Judas.
- Give those diaries to me.
- You will have to kill me.
And I am unarmed.
Oh, I had forgotten.
That's how you live.
Waiting for a man to lower his defenses and then strike the final blow.
You have always been a pompous ass.
But then again, I have always fancied a man's ass, no matter how pompous.
Yet, you will sleep alone tonight.
Even when I sleep with someone else, I sleep alone.
- Then go on, killer.
Kill me.
- I do not need to kill you.
Guards! These are mine.
Murder! Murder! Murder! I like to see Alfonso d'Este, who has waited so long to be your husband wait a little longer.
I intend to torture him, but he will certainly be the best of your husbands.
Will he? Queen of my heart, with every step closer, you are more beautiful.
Flamenco! Will you not enter? You should rest.
Tomorrow will require the endurance of a marathon runner.
- Is it true you no longer sleep? - Only when I am tired.
I am never tired.
When I am married and not in Rome, will I ever see you? You have been married.
I have been out of Rome, and yet here we stand, face-to-face.
More honest with each other than we have ever been.
Then I will be even more honest.
Cesare, I have long believed that you murdered Alfonso di Calabria.
Whether I did or did not, you have forgiven me.
Yes.
But now I fear that I had no reason to forgive you.
That someone else committed the crime.
The man whom tomorrow I will marry.
Lucrezia, I swear, I am the guilty one.
Swear upon the love you and I share.
I do.
Alfonso d'Este is innocent.
And say again, he will make the best of husbands.
I will sleep.
I will guard your door.
I want the murderer impaled, and I want his putrid entrails to leak out of his anus, so that I can stuff them into his mouth and see him gag on his own shit.
And I want his balls cut off and minced and fried and fed to the dogs! Giuliano, you seem to feel strongly enough to interrupt us as we dress for the wedding of our daughter.
He was more essential to me than I thought.
We will put our best efforts on the case.
How can I be certain the investigation will be led in a diligent manner? Bishop Alidosi never found a place in your heart.
We, the pope, care about justice.
You have our word.
I did not destroy the diaries.
I will rewrite our history.
Inaccurate.
Distorted, invalid, invent A man has been killed fighting over my diaries.
How can I possibly redeem my soul? Our Lord, by depriving you of your writings, has exacted your penance.
Oh, but God did not deprive me of my writings.
The stolen diaries were decoys filled with false information.
I still possess the originals.
Make clear a path for the bride and groom.
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.
To fix the moment in your mind.
- I believe we've done our father proud.
- He is never satisfied.
Cesare will sit next to Lucrezia.
His sister is married.
She is my brother's wife.
She is a bride, not yet a wife.
Alfonso's dainty ass can find another chair.
- Outrageous ignoramus.
- Calm yourself.
Calm.
Calm.
I have been wearing calm since we came to the infernal city.
Hold your tongue or you may wear more red than your new robes.
I am a cardinal.
You dare to threaten a prince of the Church? I am a real prince.
And a Borgia.
- Where is a sword? - Please, please, please.
- The bride and groom are due to enter.
- Stand back or you die.
I'll summon the guards.
- With a bleeding lip? - Cease this brouhaha.
The pope is about to endow us with his presence.
- Alfonso sits there.
- Cesare sits there.
Alfonso sits next to his bride on this side, Cesare on the other.
If we are to fight, like only a family can, then let us sit like one.
Side by side by side.
His Holiness Pope Alexander the Sixth of that name.
I see that you have joined the Turks as well.
You have planned a lovely wedding, Vannozza.
The bride and groom, Lucrezia Borgia and Alfonso d'Este.
To my daughter Lucrezia, who brings beauty and rectitude to our family's name.
Now she will bring her goodness to the House of d'Este.
Salute.
Salute.
Alfonso, present your belt.
Put the belt on her before I do.
Forgive my brother's outrageous behavior.
He has you only for the next few days.
I have you for a lifetime.
I sit here thanks to you.
I see that you can follow orders, Goffredo.
Until now I have felt the pangs of being the perennial little brother.
I have looked up to you and yet you've looked over me.
Tonight is a night for defeating the past.
I will name you my chief military commander.
I am honored.
But what of di Naldo? He has lost two battles, which is two too many.
He will return to Imola and serve as my governor.
I hear that the situation in Faenza grows dire.
Four of your allies now surround the city as enemies.
Yes.
The only people I can trust are family.
Trust.
Brother, I must ask.
When you were in Naples with my wife I am not Juan.
I have never even glanced at Sancia in lust.
Did you sear a cross into her forehead with a burning poker? Yes.
I will lead your army until my death.
Mama, I am sorry I have been so distracted.
The time for me to take my leave.
- Why did you not sit with the family? - No matter.
This is your special day.
Be careful of your brother.
I fear he strangles and thinks it an embrace.
A song for my sister.
Your sweet face will always live Will always live in my memory Bend your eyes in pity In pity to my deep sorrow Since we are not free We will never be Since we are not free We will never be Please do not tell me you are sad, Papa.
Our eyes are not wet with tears, no.
We have a cold that will not leave.
We do not cry.
This is not a day for that.
We celebrate.
Darling girl, this is your chance for happiness, love, peace.
Then why does it not feel so? Because you are unaccustomed to happiness, love and peace.
Joys of life are not a given.
You must fight for them.
We have one more wedding gift for you, our daughter.
We have made our grandson, Rodrigo Borgia di Calabria the duke of Sermoneta.
Both your sons are launched on their own paths to greatness.
Thank you, Papa.
You must go.
You have carriages waiting for you and a new family to love.
You go.
And do not look back.
You do not look back because you know that no matter what you need, whenever you need it, I will, alive or dead, be there for you.
Now go.
And when I call your name do not turn to me.
Do not.
You need to go.
Lucrezia.
Lucrezia.
Lucrezia.
I will always look back.
Giovanni Sforza is living in exile in Ferrara.
- When my sister arrives he must be gone.
- Yes.
Of course.
I will send word.
- Do you like the players? - Only you would plan such magic.
I have littered our long journey north with singers and clowns and gypsy circuses.
- In case you grow bored.
- You are the best of brothers.
And that is all I am.
All I will ever be to you.
We each begin a new life, informed by our old lives but invented anew.
Let us finally and forever say goodbye to the past.
- No, I am not ready.
- I am not either.
But the future does not care.
I love you, Lucrezia.
- You must take action.
- I will handle Giovanni Sforza.
- I need you to handle me, now.
Hit me.
- I would never.
Hit me and say, "my journey is mine," loudly as if you send an oath to heaven.
Cesare, no.
Until this moment, I did not know if I could let her go.
Hit me or I will kiss Lucrezia as deeply as my tongue can reach.
- And then I will fuck her and fuck her - My journey is mine! Ahead!