The Borgias (2011–2013): Season 1, Episode 4 - Lucrezia's Wedding - full transcript

Previously on The Borgias...

The cardinal's come
to discuss the deposition

of the Borgia pope, father.

He's appointed a veritable
cascade of cardinals.

Among them, his son.

It seems the good Cardinal
Della Rovere has fled.

You have someone
who can wield a good garrotte.

Maybe it's time
for the cardinal's collar

to be replaced.
Guards! An assassin!

So you failed.

It was the wounds
on my back that betrayed me.



Then have him followed--
by someone other than you.

The Sultan of Constantinople
would pay us to welcome

his half-brother Djem
into our care.

- Forty thousand ducats.
- If he lives.

If he dies, 400,000.

Giulia Farnese is having
her portrait painted?

Papa commissioned it.

I banished my husband
for your sake!

Have you heard the news, Djem?
I'm to be married.

Oh, my dear.

If our families were to unite,
the Sforza family would need

an agreement on a dowry.

But of course.

Do I have to marry, Cesare?



What if my husband proves
ungallant?

That heathen outstays
his welcome.

- Then send him home.
- We can ill afford to.

He must raise a dowry
for our sister's betrothal.

Four hundred thousand ducats is
hard to come by.

You!

So our sister's dowry is done.
Here endeth the first lesson.

♪

♪ The Borgias 1x04 ♪
Lucrezia's Wedding
Original Air Date on April 17, 2011

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

Come hither!
Oh, degenerate church!

I gave you my house,
saith the Lord,

and you have defiled it
with outrage!

This pope is a lecherous
abomination!

Is there no crime for which
he has not been accused?

He is lower than the beast
that crawls

or the Red Whore
of Babylon!

Florence, you will pay
for your greed and usury

when he grinds you
to perdition!

Oh, what was the illness
our dear Djem died of, brother?

- Marsh fever.
- That he caught from our own swamps?

I fear
I may have caught it too.

No, my love.

I think perhaps
you are sick with heartbreak.

I think I shall never have
another friend like him.

You will always have me.

I have heard it whispered
by the maid servants

that his estate paid
for my dowry.

I think you know, my love, that
our father has funds enough.

But...
if it were true, Cesare,

I could never marry
this Giovanni Sforza,

however handsome
he may be.

Who told you
he was handsome?

He is ugly, then?

What a fate.

He is far from ugly.

He has his Sforza profile,
the nobility of bearing.

And the Sforza armies.
And the castles.

And all those things we all might gain
that will help our dear father's cause.

You are learning fast,
Lucrezia.

Not fast enough.

Tell me again
what my dear Djem died of.

Swamp fever.

A mosquito...

...killed my Moor.

You would not lie
to me, brother?

I think you should sleep now,
my love.

Perhaps it's a mosquito
has bitten me.

Do not fret,
Holy Father.

I know my daughter.

The illness is less in her body
than in her heart.

- Well, she is--
- The changes of her state

overwhelm her.
She is to be married soon.

She's lost her blackamoor.

Her father communes
only with God

or with La Bella Farnese.

Your tone is
hardly appropriate, madam.

Forgive me, then,
my tone.

But rest assured, I will nurse her
back to the most excellent health,

and we will both have
the pleasure of seeing her walk

up the aisle
of St. Peter's.

I'm afraid
we will not.

Do not fret,
my love.

I will nurse her back to health.
I promise. No, you misunderstand me.

I do?

We will not
both have that pleasure.

Why not?

The Sforza lineage is
a noble o.

They have requested that
there be no...

...hint of scandal.

- You mean--
- I mean...

...that you cannot attend.

- Because...
- Because of your past!

Oh... God!

Well, if the whole
of Rome knows!

- Do not do this.
- Look, I--

- Do not do this, Rodrigo!
- A marriage such as this,

with the attendance
of the royalty of Christendom--

She is my only daughter!

For one who is rumoured
to have been a courtesan

to attend...
You're breaking my heart!

- It is impossible.
- Would you break hers too?

Shh, shh!

I will make it up to you.

How?

What is he, Micheletto?
Benedictine, or Franciscan?

He belongs to a mendicant
order, Your Eminence.

- Well, where is his begging bowl, then?
- He has yet to find one.

But he will.

So with his begging bowl,
he can travel to Florence.

He can send you reports--
what he sees, what he hears.

Then no killing?

The scandal of your Naples
misadventure travelled wide.

We must make do now
with information--

about whom
Della Rovere meets,

where he travels.

Besides, monks do not kill.
No.

They beg and they pray,
Your Eminence.

Has he a name,
this mendicant?

Giancarlo,
at Your Eminence's service.

Your scars betray you.

Keep yourself cowled.

You look pale,
Bella Lucrezia.

Yes,
I have been ill.

My dusky friend inhabits
my dreams.

Do not think so much
of Djem, my dear.

He has a secret
that he cannot speak of.

His beautiful dark mouth opens,
but no sounds come out.

In your dreams?

And I have to kiss those lips
to comfort them.

- Oh, dear.
- Is it...

...rmissible,
Donna Giulia,

to kiss a dead Moor
in your dreams?

All things are permissible
in our dreams.

Look in the mirror,
Lucrezia.

You yourself are dream enough
for anyone.

I could be happy
in this dress.

But I shall need lessons
in kissing.

I shall soon have
to kiss the Lord Sforza.

The dowry contract is
agreed.

And Pesaro brings with it
5,000 horses

and twice as many spears.

A valuable addition indeed
to the papal armies.

Enough to see off any...

...paltry alliance
of upstart dukes

that Della Rovere cobbles together.
Perhaps.

I wonder...
Would he dare France?

Holy Father?

Hmm...

The Spanish king asks
for our blessing

on their conquest
of this new continent.

Perhaps it is time for us
to strengthen our ties

with our ancestral homeland.

First,

there's a chaste kiss,

full of promise,
like this one.

That's easy.

Then,

there's the kiss
of pleasure,

which begins to promise.

You know them all?

All of them.
There are many more.

Any woman must.

Show.

Did my mother kiss my father
thus?

I would hazard
she did.

And you,

do you kiss him thus now?

Let us adjust your dress.

And your dress,
Donna Giulia.

What colour have you chosen?
I thought a gown of apricot.

My mother's favourite gown is
apricot.

You must take care
not to outshine her.

I'm afraid there's
no possibility of that.

What do you mean?
You have advised her already?

You haven't heard?

Another secret.

I'm tired of secrets.
It is no secret.

Tell me, then.
What have I not heard?

Your mother...

...is not coming
to your wedding.

Well, that is silly,
Giulia Farnese.

Of course she's coming.

I'm afraid your father has
deemed it otherwise.

My...

My father,
he would never...

- I'm afraid--
- I must speak to him of this.

Father.
Ah, we're in here, Lucrezia.

Oh! Ha-ha! Have you come
to show us your dress?

Oh! It's more beautiful
than we could have imagined!

You are the pope
of Rome.

But surely not even the pope of Rome
can bar my mother from my wedding day?

Oh, dear.

I will gladly marry
whom you choose;

what your politics demand.

The Borgia family will be united
with the Sforzas,

but however noble
their lineage,

they cannot bar my mother
from my wedding day.

No, but these are issues,
my dear daughter,

that are beyond your care.
But I am learning, Holy Father!

She was once what they call a courtesan,
and you are the pope of Rome.

But you loved her
once.

As I do now.

And I will have my mother
at my wedding day.

Come, sis. Let us talk
of these things elsewhere.

Please, Holy Father!
I need you both there!

My mother
and my father!

Alms, for the love of God.

Never was a woman
more wretched than myself

in such a marriage
with such a husband.

Ah, Penelope,
darling.

I bid you good health. Uh,

how are the good people
of the countryside?

They do less mischief than
those in town, it would seem.

Would your choice be
comedy or tragedy, my lord?

It is my sister's wedding.

I would see her smile.

Ah! One of the comedies,
perhaps,

of Terence or Plautus?
The difference between them?

Um, the comedies
of Terence have refinement.

Refinement.

Refinement is good.
Yes.

Those of Plautus are known
for their vulgarity.

Vulgarity is better.

Ah! He wrote of bawds,
pimps, courtesans.

- Better still.
- Who is she?!

She is...

Do you want to know her name?
Do you even know her name?

No.

The wealth of
Florence astounds me, Don de Medici.

Banking.

The Medici family are bankers
to the world.

To the Vatican itself.

Ah, the Savonarola calls it
usury.

And what do you call it?

Interest.

He may be wrong
about the Medici bank,

but he's right
about the Borgia pope.

Alexander's great game is
the investiture of Naples.

He knows
France has claims upon it;

he knows
Spain has claims upon it.

He will play them both against each
other like a spider with two flies.

And you...

What is your game?

I have no game.

But,
if I am forced to play,

I will head to France,

and ask the French king
to invade our beautiful Italy.

Italy?

Is there such an entity?

There is a land,
Señor Machiavelli,

made up of many principalities--
the Duchy of Milan,

the Republic
of your wondrous Florence,

the dukedoms of the Romania,
the papal states--

And to their south,
Naples.

Borgia has betrothed
his daughter to a Sforza.

He will marry his son
to a Spaniard or a Venetian;

his younger son
to a Florentine or a Neapolitan.

He will weave a web
around this Italy

that may not exist.
He will swallow your Florence,

your Venice, your Milan,

and Italy then will exist,
my liege, under him.

Hmm.

Prophetic words.

Are you... cousin
to Savonarola?

No.
But I would meet with him.

I've seen him preach.

Can you explain to me,
Cardinal,

why the king of France would muster
an army and invade his neighbours?

- Because he wants Naples.
- So you give France Naples,

France gives you...

...Rome?

I don't want Rome;

I want to restore the glory
of her holy church.

Hmm.

As pope.

As her humble servant.

Indeed.

And... what do you want
of Florence?

Nothing.

Well, then
we will charge you nothing.

You misunderstand.
I ask

that Florence do
nothing.

Ah.

We let those French barbarians march
through our principality and do...

Nothing.

That's a different kind
of nothing.

That will cost you
something.

Have we a visitor?

One who heard
of your distress.

One who loved you
when you were younger.

One who stepped aside
when asked.

My God!

Theo!

And you've come as--
Not as a lover, God forbid;

as one once a husband;

as a friend,
if I'm needed.

- How many years has it been?
- Oh, let us not talk of years.

The pope would bar me,
Theo,

from my own daughter's
wedding.

As he barred me
from your life.

But our love was
finished.

A mother's love
for her daughter never dies.

If I can be
of any comfort--

And yet he would have
La Bella Farnese there--

at his side,
before all of Rome.

Can a pope make
his mistress public?

- This pope can, and will.
- Well, she's noble;

you're not.

The nobility has its own laws,
its own rules, and we...

...are commoners,
my dear.

And we had common pleasures,
did we not?

Stay and dine with me,
Theo.

Tell me
how your life has been.

Old friends at times like
this are what one needs.

King Ferrante
of Naples?

He's too old
to attend.

Well, his son, Alphonso?

We must give him
pride of place.

Um...

Between the Salviatis
and the Colonnas, perhaps?

And have them cut
each other's throats?

An outcome
to be fervently desired, surely.

Yes, but...
not in St. Peter's,

and not
at our daughter's wedding.

Where's the doge of Venice?

By the Florentine ambassador,
Machiavelli.

And have them plot
against us?

They do that already,
Father.

No...

Venice shall go
by the...

...Spanish ambassador.

Florence next to the ambassador
from the Holy Roman Empire.

Wise, indeed.

But there is
one glaring omission, Father.

There is?

Go over it again.

My mother.

So, at the front...
the Sforzas.

And behind them,
Alfonso of Naples

and Sancia of Naples.

I miss your company,
Vanozza.

Your Eminence.

Am I eminent to you?

The husband
of my mother.

- I should--
- Sounds like a riddle.

If the husband of my mother is
not my father, then who is?

I'm sorry,
you should what?

Retire.

Back to that farm
the pope bought for you?

Oh, but he wasn't pope then,
was he?

No, no, no,
sit, sit.

We're all friends here.
I should hope so.

And, if not,
family.

To think
you could have been my father...

I think not.

Would I have been different,
mother?

More at ease?

Perhaps,
dare one say it,

happy?

Do you have shepherds
on your hills, Theo?

Indeed,
Your... Eminence.

Do they play the pipes
of Pan,

as in Virgil's Georgics?

Do they fall in love
with shepherdesses?

They sleep on the
bare hillsides.

In summer they scorch; in
winter they freeze. It is not

a life
to be envied.

Et in Arcadia ego.

You must translate
for me, Your Eminence.

I am a poor farmer.

Death also is in paradise.

- Cesare.
- I merely quote, Mother, from the great poet, Virgil.

But speaking of paradise,
how is the betrothed one?

She's better.
She's sleeping soundly.

We must let her rest,
then.

You, Theo, you must tell me
about sheep.

Or goats.

Father Savonarola.

Who disturbs me
at matins?

Cardinal Giuliano
Della Rovere, Friar.

I know of you.

From that cesspit
they call Rome.

It was not
always thus;

it was pure once,
and can be so again.

You...

You talk
of purity.

Step into the light.

I feel something
from you.

I have had a vision,
Cardinal,

of a great army
from the north,

with cannon the like of which
we have never witnessed,

belching fire
and destruction.

Women lie dead
in their beds.

Suckling babes will be snatched
from the breast and dashed

against the city walls.

This army...

...will march south

like the mongrel hordes
towards Rome,

invited in
by a cleric in red.

Are you the one,

Cardinal Della Rovere?

And in this vision
of yours,

was the pope deposed?

I see castles
of flame.

I see blood running through
the streets of cities.

I see the bloated body
of the Borgia pope,

blackened by syphilis,

lying dead
in St. Peter's.

Nobody dares
approach it.

Will you be the one,

Cardinal, to bring forth
this apocalypse?

Are you the cleric
in red?

We understand
the royal Spanish highnesses...

...wish us
to view this savage?

- Yes, Your Holiness.
- Brought back

by Christopher Columbus
from the new continent?

- Yes, Your Holiness.
- I have heard rumours

of cities of pure gold;

of rivers running over beds
of precious stone.

Can this savage tell us of them?

We care little for silver
and gold, Cardinal Sforza.

Our thoughts...

...are with the souls
of its primitive inhabitants.

Their salvation.
Indeed, Your Holiness.

And we have here an example
of how knowledge

of the one true God can enter
the most savage breast.

Show us!

Speak.

Credo in Unum Deum.

Hmm.

What Eden
have they torn you from?

Eden.

It was a paradise,
Your Eminence.

Was?

Queen Isabella requests the pope's
blessing upon her American conquests.

She would instruct these savage
peoples in the one true God.

In return for?

The support of Fernando and
Isabella of Spain for his papacy.

The unreserved,

unequivocal support?

But of course.

And what of Naples?

Their Catholic Majesties would
expect Rome

to support their traditional
claims on Naples.

So, my Lord...

I cannot invite such chaos
to my land

without a sign.

So help me, God.

Are you at liberty,
Father,

to hear one poor sinner's
confession?

In nomine Patris et Filii
et Spiritus Sancti.

I have... sinned
in thought, Father,

and am about to sin
in deed.

- Tell me.
- I...

Can one sin
for the greater good?

I do not understand.

Can one spill blood

to rid the world
of a greater evil?

You must spell it out
for me, my son.

I am about to invite an army
to march south.

An army that will unleash the
chaos of war upon our fair lands.

You mean...
an invasion?

Are you confessor,
Father,

or inquisitor?

I am a humble priest,
Cardinal.

And how did you know
I'm cardinal?

What order are you?

I am a mendicant friar
of the Order of St. Benedict.

You...

...are a Borgia spy!

My word,

rather sweeter breath
than my wife.

Your wife's breath isn't bad,
is it?

I'd rather drink bilge water, if
it came to that, than kiss her.

You promised me
vulgar.

It's Plautus, my lord.
More lewd you cannot find!

Do you need lessons
in lewdness?

Let us first change breath
to bosoms.

- Bosoms?
- Yes.

"Rather sweeter bosoms
than my wife's."

My word, rather sweeter bosoms
than my wife's.

Better already.
Now let us glimpse...

...the said bosoms.
Huh?

My word, rather sweeter bosoms
than my wife's.

Must we all get married,
then?

Perhaps.

One day not too far off
even you might get married, hmm?

But how does
marriage help you, Father?

Hmm...

Let me explain to you,
little man.

Italy.

It's like a great big boot
divided into kingdoms.

To the north, we have the Duchy
of Milan, ruled over

by Ludovico Sforza.
Then to the east,

we have the Republic
of Venice.

Moving south, we have the great
Republic of Florence,

ruled over by the...?
Medici family?

Yes. To the north and the east
we have the Romania,

ruled over
by the great Roman families,

one of which your sister is
going to marry into.

- Giovanni Sforza?
- That's right.

That's the same name
as the Duke of Milan.

Mm-hmm.
They're cousins,

and thus have
similar interests.

But here is the tiny city of Rome,
surrounded by the papal states.

Now, its rule is small,
but its power is great.

Can you tell me why?

All the kings want
to be crowned by the pope?

Now, here,
to the south,

is the great kingdom
of Naples--

almost half the boot.

But both France and Spain have
traditional claims on Naples,

and Naples wishes
to assert his independence,

so, I mean, phew!

It's the pope who has to
decide between these claims.

- That's a big responsibility.
- Oh, I know, it is.

Sometimes it even stops me
sleeping at night.

I will marry anyone you like
if it helps you to sleep.

Well, there's a boy.
Hmm!

There's a little chap.

The honourable
Giovanni Sforza,

we welcome you
to the city of Rome.

Our armies are yours.

Our hospitality is yours.

And our sister shall
soon be yours.

The Sforza armies are
at your service.

May the union between
our families bear every fruit.

♪

Please, God.

Most worthy Lord,

do you agree to take
the illustrious Lucrezia Borgia,

here present,
to be your lawful spouse?

I do.

Most illustrious Lady,

do you agree to take the most
noble Lord Giovanni Sforza,

here present,
to be your lawful spouse?

I do.

Put on your best finery,
Mother.

Your most beautiful dress.

You're coming with me.

Where?

The pope forbade your presence
at your daughter's wedding;

he made no mention
of its aftermath.

♪

I would fain
hear your voice, my lord.

My voice?

Yes. The only words
I have heard to date

from you have been
the words "I do".

I have many other words.

Have you heard
the word "love"?

"Love." I have heard it.

Are you melancholy,
my love?

I'm remembering,
Your Holiness,

a wedding of my own.

The outcome
of today's nuptials...

...will be happier.

Surely.

One dearly hopes so.

Mother,
if I may have the pleasure,

will you join me and
the newly weds in a passamezzo?

- No, Cesare, I think--
- I am afraid I must insist.

And I imagine His Holiness
the Pope would insist too.

Think
of Lucrezia, Your Holiness--

her happiness.

My pleasure.

Lord Sforza.

- Cardinal.
- The mother

of your blushing bride,
Donna Vanozza Cattaneo.

Well, is your new husband
to your liking?

He has
a limited vocabulary.

Sforzas are not known
for their conversational skills.

Perhaps I could teach him
new words.

Like "tendresse".

"Amore."

"Sprezzatura."
Sprezzatura?

That is a big word.

I have heard it means

"the effortless display
of grace".

I see no evidence
of sprezzatura.

Perhaps I can make do
with kindness, then.

Do my eyes
deceive me?

Can eyes deceive?

Perhaps not.

Hearts can deceive,
words can deceive,

but eyes we can trust.

You're a cardinal,
are you not?

Cardinal Cesare Borgia.

Ursula Bonadeo.

- Yo husband?
- Yes.

Is he blessed
with sprezzatura?

Sprezzatura?

Unfortunately not.

He has the strength
of an ox.

And sadly
the grace of an ox as well.

And yet
you are tied to him.

Unless
someone can deliver me.

If you had not
been here, Mother,

my future would
have been grey forever.

You are entering womanhood
blessed with many

more things
than I was blessed with.

But if I were
to become a woman

with half your grace
and beauty, Mother...

...I would be proud
and happy.

You'd bring a whore
to your sister's wedding?

Pardon me?

Perhaps
I should rephrase that.

You'd bring a Spanish courtesan
to your sister's wedding?

There is a response
to such an insult.

But it would not be
appropriate here.

Elsewhere, then?

I am afraid
you can count upon it.

And I think
you should leave us. Now.

Gladly.

The air is noisome here.

Unhealthy.

Worse
than a whorehouse.

My lady.

Liberate me.

Rather sweeter bosoms
than my wife's.

Tell me!
There's a dear.

Your wife's bosoms aren't
bad, are they?

I'd rather kiss walnuts
than kiss thee.

Oh, you would,
would you? Good gracious, sir,

that sling at me will
cost you dear!

Ah-ha-ha!

She's past her bedtime.

Look here, Father,
do you love my mother?

I love her
for not being me.

You're going
to bed? Good night.

And when she is near?

I yearn
for death in the family.

Bravo!

More! More!

My word! Rather sweeter bosoms
than my wife's.

I'm very well for bed.

Good night!

Good night.

More wine, my lord?

Please.

Your wife sleeps.

Indeed.

You should
let her rest now.

This day has been long
for one so young.

There is time enough for...

Ah! Ah!

...pleasure.

Indeed.

I trust
you slept well, madam?

Like a child,
my lord.

Like a child...

I have no doubt.

Bring water, quickly.

I'll take your master,
lord.

- My lord.
- How are the dogs?

Eager to hunt.

Don't feed them.
I want them hungry for tomorrow.

Take my lady's horse.

My lady.

My thanks.

That small vial.

The red one.

Poor it in the water.

Softens the skin.

Giulia told me.

Giulia?

Farnese.

A great Roman beauty.

You have heard of her?

And my husband's hands...

Will they be soft?

They are hard,
my lady.

What I have felt
of them.

Hard?

You have felt them?

When he beat me--

hard, my lady.

There will be no more beatings
now that I am your mistress.

You wanted words.

I have words.

Words for what,
my lord?

For that Borgia wedding.

A farce.

Travesty.

A scandal.

A public
humiliation.

Well, we're married now.

No!

== sync, corrected by elderman ==