The Borgias (2011–2013): Season 1, Episode 7 - Death, on a Pale Horse - full transcript

The King of France invades Italy but Cardinal Della Rovere is appalled at the violence and destruction the first battle brings. He obtains the King's permission to try and negotiate a peace with the Florentines, who quickly agree to all of their demands. Realizing that everything they have worked for is at risk, the Pope contacts the Spanish envoy. Cesare meanwhile traces Ursula to a nunnery but she refuses to renounce her vows and leave. Despite Sancia's marriage to his younger brother Gioffre, Juan continues his affair with her in secret. The Pope's mistress, Giula Farnese, visits Lucrezia and is disturbed by what she finds.

to invade our beautiful Italy.
- What do you want of Florence?

- So the arms of France cannot
pass through your fair republic.

- In a sentence.
- I need your assurance
that the Sforzas

will be constant in
their support for our papacy.

- Your Royal Highness.
- You want me to depose
that Borgia.

- I want to restore
the Universal Church.

- We have enemies fast
approaching, Gonfaloniere.

- I have been entrusted with
all of my father's battles.

[Laughing]

- So tell me, Lucrezia,
marriage is-

- Hard, at first.



I find the more
confined husbands
become the more tolerable.

- If Lord Sforza
were to find us...

[Moaning]
- My husband has been found.

Three weeks dead.
Admit it, Cardinal.

- There was no murder.
He fought. He lost.
I will search you out.

You may find a nunnery but
you will never be free of me!

- You would sample your
brother's betrothed
the way you would a mare?

- The Borgia pope
has betrothed his son
to King Ferrante's daughter.

If there is a moment
to move, it is now.

- Do you accept Sancia as
your lawful spouse?
- I do.

- You will have your war,

but it will be fought
the French way.

***

- Tell me, Cardinal, what
is the Italian for cannon?



- We have no such word, General.

- For gunpowder?

Recoil? Battery?

Cannonball? Ordnance?

- I'm at a loss.

- You will need a
new language then.

Your Italy will
soon be deafened

by the sound
of cannon.

[Background chatter]

[Moaning in pleasure]

[Laughing]

- Be silent.

- Are we observed?

- No.

But that goatherd waits inside

for my loud...
and public apology.

- Did you abuse the goatherd?
[Both laughing]

- Terribly.
- As you abuse me?

- The abuse was of a
different kind, my dear.

[Moaning and sighing]

- [Woman]: Joffre?
Joffre, are you in the garden?

- [Joffre]: Yes, Mother.

- [Mother]: Would you
join me, please?

- [Joffre]: One moment.

- My husband
plays with feathers.

[Sighing]

- Is he to your liking?

- He is sweetness itself.

But he lacks your vigour.

- You must call on me then.

When you have need of me.

- I must return to my
husband in the morning.

- Why?
- Because he is my husband.

Because our father
needs his allegiance.

- I should keep you here in
chains. I suspect you
would be happier.

- Why do you question
my happiness?

- Because something
happened, I know it.

- What do you know?
- Your eyes.

You no longer
walk on air.

Where is my young
sister hiding?

- I am the Lord Sforza's
wife, Brother.

- If he does ill by you
I shall do ill by him.

- He would be wise
to be kind, then.

- What are his pleasures?

- Hunting.

The marital bed.

[Sighing]

- I dislike him already.

- But he had
an accident, Brother.

And now he can
indulge in neither.

- A happy accident?

- Yes. God is good.

- But he will recover?

- Unfortunately, yes.

- You are no longer
a child, Sis.

I won't forgive
him for that.

- There was a reason for
my marriage, Brother.

Remind me of it.

[Birdsong]

[Church bell tolling
in the distance]

- We are blessed by the
Cardinal's presence here.

- Sadly, Abbess, the
business of a cardinal

is overwhelmed by the
management of men.

Our spiritual duties

are all too
easily forgotten.

- But your contribution to
the abbey and its restoration

is much appreciated.

And our new novice,
Sister Martha,

has a most divine
contralto voice.

- Sister Martha?

- Do I detect some levity
in your tone, Cardinal?

- Perhaps.

- It is inappropriate,
surely.

You are the cardinal benefactor
of the Sisters of St. Cecilia.

Although even I can see
the humour in that.

- You knew? When you
chose this convent?

- I discovered, after
I had taken my vows.

- Shall I resign
my responsibilities?

Assign the benefice
to another cardinal?

- No.

I shall never be free of you,
Cardinal. I knew that.

You cannot touch me, Cardinal.
No man can touch me now.

The one who touches me,
who lives inside my heart,

who visits me nightly, died on
the cross many centuries ago.

- Ah!

I have another rival then.

And I can't kill Him.
- You blaspheme now!

Would you put yourself
beyond the grace of God
entirely, Cardinal?

- No.

I would manage my own destiny.

You asked me
for liberation.

- And you gave it to me.

You delivered me to here.

I spend my days in penance,

and... oddly
enough, in peace.

You have a power,

Cardinal Cesare Borgia,

a strength, a destiny

that even you
don't recognise.

You read my heart, with
what may indeed have been

the Devil's insight, and
you delivered me to God.

You can use that strength
for good or for ill

but I have no doubt it will be
used, and the whole of Italy
will be changed by it.

- Are you clairvoyant,
Sister Martha?

- No, but I think
I have been given

some insight into
what guides your heart.

I will never love
another man.

And you should
leave now, Cardinal.

It is forbidden.

[Sounding the bell]

[Knocking softly at the door]
- Sister Martha?

- Sister.

[Sniffling]

You asked to meet me
alone, Father.

- Yes, my son.

We have had intelligence

that 25,000 and more
French troops

are marching towards Milan.

- My God.

- Indeed. An apocalypse.

- It is a long march from France
to Rome. Anything could happen.

- Well, Milan will
grant safe passage.

Il Moro has made his
intentions abundantly clear.

- And what about Florence?

- Well, you tell me.
You visited Florence.

- Florence keeps its counsel.

- And its counsel is called
Niccolo Machiavelli.

- I have his understanding
that Florence will do nothing

if its territories
are not invaded.

- And if they are?

- It will do something.

- Its something may not
be enough for us.

French arms may alter
the whole equation!

- Has the College
of Cardinals heard?

- No, but they will.

And we can imagine
the discord already,

everyone dividing
into factions.

We are facing a battle

for our very survival.

[Thunder]
- I'm scared of thunder, Paolo.

- It often comes
before summer showers.

- No! Where is your imagination?

It is God rehearsing his wrath.

It is Jove flexing his muscles.

It is my husband
throwing off his splint.

[Thunder]

He will walk again soon.

What will we do
with our love then?

- We can love in secret.
- Hm.

We already love in secret.

And you knew this couldn't
last forever, didn't you?

- Why not?

- Again, where is
your imagination?

Have you not read
your Boccaccio,

your Petrarch?

- You know I can't read.

- If you did, you'd know.

Young lovers are
always doomed.

[Laughing]

[Thunder]

[Thunder]

[Laughing]
- Oh, my lady!

What have you been doing?
[Laughing again]

Come here.

[Laughing]

- You are... wet, my lady.

- Uh...

I am, my lord.
Rain will do that.

[Short laugh and thunder]

- I would have my wife dry

before dinner.

- Yes, my lord.
- And I would not
see her wet again.

That young groom...

- Paolo, my lord?

- I would speak
with him tomorrow.

- Your cousin's Dukedom
of Milan is now host

to the arms of
King Charles of France.

- Not for long, I would imagine.

- Indeed. He is allowing
free passage of the armies

through his
territories, south.

- Well, we must all pray
for deliverance, then.

- And how does he imagine the
pope will regard this betrayal?

- Betrayal?

I was told that
the armies of France

threaten Naples,
not the Holy City of Rome.

- So, they will
pass through Rome,

if they get this far, and leave
the Holy City as it was.

- What other outcome
could one wish for?

- I think you know, Cardinal
Sforza, that Cardinal Della
Rovere has but one end in view:

The deposition of our
Holy Father, the Pope.

- Yes, a grave
matter, indeed.

And with few precedents.
- And your attitude to
this possibility?

- I myself voted
for the Holy Father.

- So he can count on your
continued support, then?
- Yes, of course.

- What else would
you say to me, his son?

- Indeed.

What else, Cardinal Borgia?
What else?

- You would be wise
to be steadfast

in this matter, Cardinal.

You have another cousin
married to my sister.

He would be wise to
remain steadfast too.

- Shall I tell him that,

or should you?

Or should we leave
that responsibility

to your sister, Lucrezia?

- You would speak
with the groom, my lord?

- I would, my lady.

- My lady.
- What of, might I ask?

- I'd have him
ready my horses.

I must return
to the saddle.

- My lord.

- Are you sure
that is wise, my lord?

- My leg, thank God,
is healing.

As we may confirm tonight.

- Tonight?
- Tonight.

I have slept alone
too long.

[Door closing shut]

- My lady.

- My lord.

- You are a vision.

- Even for a Borgia?

- Your beauty was
never in question.

Merely your breeding.

And speaking of breeding,

the entire principality will
be expecting an heir soon...

- So soon?

- And we mustn't disappoint
them, must we?

[Screaming in pain]
- My lord!

[Moaning]

Here, let me help you.
[Screaming in pain]

[Screaming]
Oh, I'm sorry, my lord.

[Moaning]

- No! So! So!

- The French armies are headed
for the walled city of Lucca.

- And they must pass
Lucca to get to Rome?

- Hm. And Lucca
will provide no contest.

Perhaps the leg
of our beloved Italy

will provide some solace.

- No, Rodrigo.
- What?

Are we forbidden Naples?

And the hills of Rome?

Not to speak of

Florence and Milan?

- It's that time
of the month,

Rodrigo.

- Ah!

We are denied
entry, then. Hm.

- So it seems.

Most men consider it unclean.

- But we are not most men,

Giulia Farnese.

Let us hope this blood

is not a portent.

[Orders given in the distance]

- They would open
their gates to you, my liege.

But they would
first discuss terms.

- Let us show them terms.

- Fire!
- Fire the cannons!

[Screaming in pain]

[Charging yells]

[Uproar]

- Those are my terms.

Captains!
- Forward!

- A l'attaque!

[Charging yells]

[Women screaming]

- Should I order restraint,
my liege?

- No, give
them their head.

Pillage the place.
[Charging yells]

[Woman screaming]

[Girl screaming]

[Woman screaming]

- But what can justify
such carnage?

- It is war, Cardinal,
plain and simple.

- They would have surrendered
to you, readily.

- As the whole of Italy
will surrender to me now.

[Woman screaming]

[Man laughing]

[Woman screaming]

- I see castles aflame.

I see blood

running through
the streets of cities.

Will you be the one,
Cardinal Della Rovere,

to bring forth this apocalypse?

Are you...

the cleric in red?

[Laughter]

[Background chatter in French]

[Laughter]

- You are eating
nothing, Cardinal?

- I find it hard, my liege,

to muster an appetite.

Perhaps I should retire.

- No! I shall not allow it.

You invited us to this carnage.

You shall at the very least
partake of it with us.

- But, my liege--
- Yes, you will dine with us!

You will not retire!

An army is like
a beast, Cardinal.

And that beast
will be fed!

You think these troops
live on what I pay them?

You think they march with me

for the few sous I give them?

No.

They march for
the spoils of war,

of victory.

- Of course.
- Victory.

- This town will be picked clean
by the time the sun comes up.

And do you know why, Cardinal?

Because they know that another
assault like this will not be...

necessary, that the news of it

will spread like flames
through a barn,

that they might not
get another chance.

- Ah! And they were so
looking forward to Florence.

- You think Florence
might resist us?

- After tonight,
I doubt it.

But we live in hope,

do we not, Cardinal?

- Can I make a request
then, my liege?

- We are... all ears, Cardinal.

- That I be granted
your gracious permission

to ride before
your armies to Florence.

That I negotiate whatever
terms are acceptable

to Your Gracious Highness

that might prevent a
recurrence of such slaughter.

- He has no stomach
for slaughter.

General, what
are our terms?

- Free passage
of our troops

through the
Florentine Republic.

25,000 troops billeted on
the Florentine population.

- A levy of 200,000 ducats

for the cost
of our armies to date.

- You would have them pay for
your invasion of their republic?

- 200,000 is still out
of pocket, my liege.

Your costs are
double that, to date.

- 400,000 then.
- And, my liege,

I would demand,

as a token of good
faith, hostages

from each of the major
Florentine families.

- Those demands are
unaccountably harsh,
Your Highness.

They may not
accede to them.

- Well, then,

we look forward to battle.

- And I looked up...

and before me was a pale horse

and its rider was named Death.

He had power over
a quarter of the earth

to kill with his sword,

with famine, with plague,

and with the wild
beasts of the earth!

And the moon,

the full moon

was red, and stars

fell from the skies!

And the sky,

the sky receded,

receded like a scroll,

turning over and over,

and mountains

and islands

were torn

from the face
of the earth!

The sun turned black!

Black as sackcloth!

- I bring news, Father,

of apocalypse.

Hm.
[Sniffling]

If you can still hear me.

The French King has
laid waste to Lucca.

His armies head
towards Florence.

But their goal...

is your fair
Kingdom of Naples...

which we may need to vacate.

Father.

Father,

I need at least a sign.

[Sniffling]

[Prayer in Latin
in the background]

- ...per omnia
saecula saeculorum.

Amen.

You have heard what happened
in Lucca, my son?

- The whole world
has heard, Father.

King Ferrante has died.

- Indeed.

And did he die repentant?

- He has been dead for years,
to sense and logic.

But the throne of Naples
is free at last.

Alfonso will demand
its investiture.

- Well, the French King
demands it too.

- His army heads to Florence.

- Well, we must muster
what forces we can.

- And what forces are they?

- The armies of the papal
states. Of the Sforzas.

The great lords
of the Romagna.

- And you think they
can resist French arms?

- They are all
the forces we have.

- Under what leadership?

- Of the Gonfaloniere, the
Duke of Gandia, Juan Borgia.

- You are blinded
by affection, Father.

- Can you suggest
an alternative?

- Father, Father...

Give me control of them.
I will do what is necessary.

- You have no experience
of battle, my son.

- Does Juan?
- Yes.

He's been bred
for this moment.

His whole life has been spent
in training for such an event.

- He's played at
games of war, Father.

He has yet to
experience reality.

- Well, he'll have the
condottieri to advise him.

If Florence resists
French arms,

then we may
yet have time.

- And you think they will?

- We will excommunicate
Florence

if the French armies
are admitted.

[Background reactions]

- Excommunicate the entire city,

Your Holiness?

- The Medicis, the
Pazzis, Machiavelli,

the whole Signoria.

[Agreeing in the background]

And we will have
that Savonarola burnt.

[Agreeing in the background]
We will bear no more
opposition to our word.

- Then you must excommunicate
half of Christendom.
- Indeed.

- Because half of
the world is against us.

- We will not
tolerate this heresy!

This apostasy!

This is the chair
of St. Peter's!

We are the voice
of the Living God!

We will occupy this chair until
our death, and the fires of Hell

shall rain down on those
who would oppose us!

We are, all of us...

about to be

sorely tested.

And you...

are either with us...

or against us.

We hereby impose

an excommunication

upon that...

heretic apostate...

Cardinal Guiliano

Della Rovere.

[Agreeing in the background]

- We ask for
your support

in this most solemn

declaration.

We demand your compliance, so...

a show of hands, Your Eminences.

If you please.

- Your Holiness, may
the vice-chancellor speak?

- Yes...

Cardinal Sforza.

He may.

- It would be unwise...

to use the Church's
most solemn sanction...

to so little effect.

- What does the
vice-chancellor mean?

- Excommunication or not,

this invasion
will proceed.

We may all have to adjust
ourselves to new realities.

- You should consider
it fortunate, my lady,

that you're a
Borgia no longer.

- What does my lord mean?

- The French army has
passed through Milan.

My cousin Ludovico has
given them free passage
through his dukedom.

If the Republic of Florence
doesn't resist their advance,

there will be nothing to stop
their passage towards Rome.

- I know little of politics.

- You know enough, surely, to
know that your father's
days may be numbered.

- I will always be
my father's daughter, sire.

And unless I am
very much mistaken,

I do believe the
Sforza armies, yours

and your cousin Catherina's
were pledged to his cause.

- That promise did form part
of the betrothal arrangement.

- And my lord would never
renege on a promise.

- My cousin Catherina
already has.

- But you, my lord,

would never be so...

dishonourable.

- Is it dishonourable

to assist in the deposition
of a Borgia pope?

As dishonourable,
perhaps,

as removing a litter of swine
from the Vatican walls.

You are ill, my lady?

- Perhaps your words offend me.

- Forgive me, then,
for speaking so plainly.

But understand that if Florence
admits the French armies,

then the Sforza arms
may march with France.

- It is unwise, my lord,

to upset me thus.

Ah...
- My lady!

[Moaning]

Come.

Straight away...

- Who can we trust...

in this charnel house
called Rome?

- You can trust me.

- The Sforzas of Milan...

have deserted us.

I wonder, will the Sforzas
of Pesaro do the same?

- Your daughter, who
married one, would know.
- But I hear nothing from her.

I wonder, would you
travel to Pesaro,

find out what she knows?

- [Whispering]: Gladly.

- We will miss you,
in our hour of need.

- And I will miss you.

But I will suffer
your absence,

if it sets your
mind at ease.

- There was a confessor I had

when I first took holy orders.

A Franciscan friar,
the most holy of men.

I would emerge
from his confessional...

like a boy newly washed
in the morning dew.

Untroubled. Clear.

We long for that clarity
in this moment of time.

- Summon him to Rome, then.

While I ride to Pesaro.

- The French King demands
that Florence be opened

to the passage of his armies.

- But of course.

- 25,000 troops be
billeted on its populace.

- That will need to be
voted by the Signoria.

- You heard what
happened in Lucca.

- Is that a yes?
- Yes.

- He demands a levy
of 400,000 ducats

for the cost of
his invasion so far.

- My God! What effrontery.

- The answer is yes.
- Yes?

We must pay for the privilege
of being invaded?

- You heard what
happened in Lucca.

- What happened in Lucca sounds
increasingly like genius.

- He demands hostages
from the following families

as a token of goodwill.

Medici.

- Yes.

- Pazzi.
- Yes.

- Gilberti.
- Yes.

[Sighing]

- And now, my Lord Medici,
that you've surrendered

the Republic of Florence,

can we at least
pour the wine?

There is genius
afoot here, Cardinal.

Is it yours?

- Have you ever witnessed
carnage, Ambassador?

- Let's drink then.

To the great God, carnage.

I have heard a whisper of
your excommunication, Cardinal.

- Indeed. I have heard
the same of yours.

- Mine?

- I've heard rumours
that the whole of Florence

could be excommunicated

if this city is surrendered
to French arms.

- Well, then,

perhaps that depends
on one's definition

of surrender.

- [In the background]:
Regiment, halt!

- I bid his
Royal Highness

and the armies of France

welcome to the fair
city of Florence.

But it would be politic,

Your Highness, if you would ride
through our gracious city

with your lance at rest.

- At rest?

- Your lance at point
is a symbol of conquest,

and our gracious Florence
has not been conquered.

To the contrary.

We welcome you
with open arms.

- Signor Machiavelli.

- Your Highness?

- Our lance at rest

prevents our entry
to your fair city.

- Perhaps,
Your Highness,

if it were to be
angled backwards.

- And of what would
that be a symbol?

- Of Your Highness'
infinite resourcefulness.

- Ah.

- Onward, forward!

Onward, forward!

Company march!

[Background chatter]

- My lady.
- Am I in the right place?

Residence of
Lucrezia Borgia?

- Sforza.

- Sforza.

[Horse neighing softly]

[Background chatter]

- The Lady Giulia
Farnese, my lord.

- La Bella Farnese.

May I introduce my cousin,
Catherina Sforza.

- Your reputation
precedes you.

And the tales of
your military prowess.

- These are troubled times.
- Indeed they are.

And the one I came to see?

Your dear wife, Lucrezia?

- She is indisposed.

- Nothing serious, I hope.

- The politics of our
Italy have unnerved her.

- They have unnerved us all.

You... have the pope's ear,

Giulia Farnese.

- At certain times.

- So, enlighten us.

Will he resist
this French invasion?

Will he bring
bloodshed and carnage

upon all our heads?

- You are no stranger to
bloodshed, are you, Lady Sforza?

- I would save my arms
for battles I can win.

- If you're asking me, will
he accept his deposition

as the Pope of Rome...

the answer is never.

- With what armies will he
confront the French?

- With the armies of
the papal states.

Of the lords of the
Romagna. The Colonna.

The Salviati. The Sforza.

- Oh, we're all doomed then.

- No.

No, the House
of Borgia is doomed.

The arms of the
House of Sforza

will remain where they belong:

In the Romagna.

- But what of my
lord's marriage...

with the House
of Borgia?

- What of it?

- You will let these
French armies

march to Rome, and do...

- What everyone else
in Italy is doing.

Nothing.

- Ah.

Have you shared
this intelligence

with your dear
wife, Lucrezia?

- She's too young to
understand such matters.

[Church bell tolling]

- Do you recognise us,
Brother Raphael?

- Oh...

I hardly do, Your Holiness.

[Laughing]

- I would be...

a simple priest again,

and unburden
my soul to you.

I have been...

diverted from my calling...

by the travails
of this world.

- That is indeed grave.

- But the pope
is a ruler of men.

Yes, he interprets God's will,

but he must also rule
the papal states,

the city of Rome,
he must mediate between

all the kings
of Christendom.

- God makes
himself manifest

through the world.

He does not ask us to change it,

merely to lead good lives.

[Sighing]

- A great trial...

is to be visited on me.

On Rome, on the chair
of St. Peter's.

The French King,

a cardinal with him,

would see me deposed.

Now, if that is God's will,

should I just
allow it to happen?

Walk free of my office...

follow you to the Apennines,

and live the life
of St. Francis?

- You were given
this office for a reason,

Your Holiness.
- Are you sure of that, Friar?

- You were chosen.

You have a duty to fulfill.

You're a man. You
have sinned, of course.

You have failed,
no doubt,

in many things.

But your office,

the role for which
God chose you,

you cannot fail in that.

And, have no doubt,

God observes you.

And if you open
your heart to Him...

He will guide
you through it.

Now, beg forgiveness

for your sins,

and have your soul
washed clean.

- Djem is in my
dreams again, Giulia.

And he still
cannot speak.

Can one contract the marsh fever
in these mountainous regions?

- I'm sure the mountains
have fevers of their own,

but I know them not.

But you are ill, Lucrezia.
Describe your illness.

- I wake up, nauseous.

I expel the contents of
whatever I ate the night before.

I sweat.

It comes and goes.

- When does it come and go?

- Mornings are the worst.

- Your husband...
[Pouring water]

does he visit your
bed nightly?

- He had a hunting
accident, Giulia.

He has slept alone
since his fall.

- How strange.

We must leave this
castle at first light,

before the Lord
Sforza awakes.

Have you any friends you
can confide in here?

- There is a maidservant.
- Mm-hmm.

Francesca.

There is a groom.

Paolo.

- You can trust this groom?

- With my life.

- Hmm...

He was kind to you, hmm?

- He was my only solace here.

- He can provide us
with horses then.

- You said it was strange.

Why is it strange,

Giulia Farnese?

- [Whispering]: Because,
Lucrezia, my love...

- I recognise the symptoms
of your illness.

And it's not called
marsh fever.

You're with child.

[Sighing]

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