The Borgias (2011–2013): Season 2, Episode 10 - The Confession - full transcript
The Pope is increasingly worried about the welfare of his son Juan, who has vanished and orders Cesare to find him. Cardinal Sforza tells his men to start looking in the city's morgues. When his body is found, the Pope is grief-stricken and orders that his son will not be buried until his killer is found. Cesare is also tasked with getting a confession from Brother Savonarola but that is also proving to be a difficult task. In the end, Cesare follows Machiavelli's advice. Lucrezia has a new suitor but toys with him pretending to be one of Lucrezia's servants. When the young man falls in love with her she decides to reveal her true identity and agrees to marry him. Meanwhile, Cardinal Della Rovere's assassin strikes.
Previously on The Borgias...
Father,
we must discuss our brother.
He is hurtling towards ruin.
And he will drag this
whole family with him.
You're pathetic.
You want to inhabit my shoes.
Wear my armour. Carry my sword.
You will end your life
in a clerical skirt.
It is a daughter's duty to
marry her father's choice!
She will love whom she chooses.
She is a Borgia.
I would have married as you bid.
But if I had followed my heart...
So, the future of this family
is in thrall to your heart?
You stand accused of
defying papal orders
to cease your
heretical preaching.
I will walk through this fire
to show I speak God's truth!
Savonarola's been disgraced.
He's being hauled
to Rome as we speak.
Has he confessed? He will.
When the rack embraces him,
he will confess.
Present yourself
as a Franciscan.
Seek employment as his taster.
If hired,
you will bide your time.
You may have one chance only
to deliver a fatal dose.
One day you'll realize
that everything I've done
has been for your own good.
Like you took care of Paolo?
A stable boy.
For the good of the family.
Exactly so.
Leave my baby!
Juan, leave my baby alone!
What happened to you, Juan?
You were such a lovely child.
Tell me about poison.
I would happily kill tonight.
And break your father's heart?
Help him through his dark night.
Don't let envy rule your heart.
He loves his
errant son, does he not?
More than he loves
his dutiful one.
No killing then.
Hearts may yet be broken.
Have you come to beg
forgiveness for your insult?
You're already forgiven.
Ah!
We're Borgias;
We never forgive.
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Make your confession
and all this will end.
You want that, don't you?
An end to all this pain?
You sign this, and it's done.
What do you say?
Yes... yes.
Release him.
You sign here.
Here!
Put him back.
You were to bring me two things.
A confession from the heretic
and your brother.
Tell us you have at least
one out of the two.
Savonarola will
break on the rack.
His confession will
come any day now.
It has been too
many days already.
And our second son?
I had all of Rome searched.
And?
Make more effort.
A man doesn't just
vanish into the wind.
Everywhere you have searched
before, search again.
Again, your Eminence?
Yes, make more effort.
Find him!
You've searched his
friends' palaces,
brothels, gaming halls,
taverns, the like?
Yes, Your Eminence. Many times.
Start with the mortuaries.
Stop.
Who are you?
I am Prince Alfonso d'Aragona,
Duke of Bisceglie
and Prince of Salerno.
What are you doing here?
I am suitor to
the Lady Lucrezia,
daughter of his Holiness,
Alexander the Sixth,
Pope of Rome.
Indeed?
Lucrezia Borgia?
Poor boy.
Come. I will take you to her.
So you are suitor to
the Lady Lucrezia.
I am.
A great responsibility
for one so young.
Take off your cloak.
If I remove my coat, what
will you remove in return?
We will see.
The Lady Lucrezia has
a great many suitors.
Some are wheat and
some are chaff.
And it falls to me to separate
the one from the other.
I am neither wheat nor chaff.
I am Alfonso d'Aragona,
and I am flesh and blood.
Turn around.
If it pleases you.
It pleases me.
Now you must do
the same in return.
If it pleases you.
It pleases me.
So, what now?
How far does your Lady Lucrezia
care for this game to go on?
There is no limit.
Just as one would have one's
groom break in a new horse...
so it is with my lady's
lovers and me.
Before he ate only sardines
and drank only water.
So I poisoned the water
and then he drank wine.
I fear I will fail you.
God has chosen you
for this glorious path.
This pope is on
the brink of a chasm.
One breath...
your breath...
will topple him.
When the moment comes,
you will know.
God will tell you.
I know what you are. Yes?
I have had your kind
stoned to death...
and their corpses dragged
through the streets.
My kind?
Men who lay with men.
Sodomites who corrupt
young innocent boys
who artists use as angels.
I have cleansed
Florence of her sin.
And yet here I am.
Your last chance.
Will you confess?
To you?
To you?
Never.
To your master.
Yes.
None else.
Duke of Bisceglie
and Prince of Salerno.
Yes.
What are they like,
Bisceglie and Salerno?
Beautiful.
But for all the world
I would rather be here.
You find Rome so appealing?
Not Rome.
Here.
When you speak of me
to the Lady Lucrezia...
Mm?
If... your account
is favourable...
can you and I...?
Never.
We must never see
each other again.
If you are hers,
you are hers alone.
So...
tell her I was inept, or
coarse or beyond ugly.
And come with me
and be mine alone.
You would turn down the
pope's own daughter for me?
Why?
Because I have never
known a woman so lovely.
Poor boy.
It's time for me to go.
Who would have thought a body
could stand so much pain?
They've tortured
the man near to death.
The strength of a faith
misguided is still a strength.
He thought he could
walk through fire.
I disabused him of that notion.
You have broken
his hold on power.
You have broken
the bones of his body.
All that you lack
is his confession.
Exactly so.
That which was said publicly
must be recanted publicly.
Even in death
he would be poison.
Rome needs this confession.
Then...
give it to them.
He is pleased to
see his grandfather.
We don't see enough of him.
We have other
things on our mind.
Juan will come home.
He always does.
Hm.
Well, Juan is not
our only concern.
There are other matters of...
state and...
...family.
Ah.
State and family
must mean marriage.
You have another
suitor standing by.
Well, Prince Alfonso d'Aragona.
Well, I've heard of him.
He's arrived at last.
He's a child, is he not?
Well, no, he's young.
A boy of clay to mould
into a man of my liking?
We would have you meet him
and not dismiss him
out of hand,
but meet him as a
dutiful daughter should.
If it is my duty,
I shall meet with him.
Oh. Strictly as a duty.
Yes.
Oh.
Oh.
Nanny, I think little
Giovanni done a-you know.
Come here. Yes, there you go.
Ooh. Holiness.
May I, my lady?
I'll take him.
Oh dear.
Oh dear.
Presenting the most gracious...
Lady Lucrezia Borgia.
This is Prince
Alfonso d'Aragona?
Yes.
Duke of Bisceglie
and Prince of Salerno.
I...
Well, I...
Yes? I...
Does he just make noises?
Oh.
Yes, I will marry him.
He has all the sweetness
of an apple on the tree.
I will marry him
tomorrow if you wish it.
Oh!
You may kiss me.
On the cheek.
What a most charming
and welcome eventuation.
We feel invigorated!
Your Holiness.
How refreshing that our children
are still able to surprise us.
Eminence.
We have a body, your Eminence.
What?
Well, tell us.
There is a body.
OUT!
Who-Who... is this?
No one, your Holiness.
It's a mistake.
You've been searching
the mortuaries.
Did our son order this?
No, I did.
You consider him dead?
I consider the possibility.
Do you truly want to do this?
Truly, no.
But we must.
How long must this continue?
We both know you
cannot stand much more.
I...
have run dry of screams.
Then end it.
Admit your heresy.
My strength fails me.
My will fails me.
I saved you
for this very purpose.
Now you sign it, and end it.
I am weak...
and...
and no will...
No.
No!
You went too far!
He's alive.
Just.
God speaks to me!
Whatever you do to me...
God is ready.
I thank God
for your confession.
He cannot speak of this.
You... bastard!
Guards!
You will burn for
your blasphemy!
No, it is you who will burn.
And with my last strength
I damn this unholy pope.
I shout to the world the
falseness of this confession!
Hold him.
I'll have your tongue.
Hold him!
These poor creatures were
all brought in last night?
Yes, lady.
The carts come in
all night long.
The haul from the river's in
here, sir, if you'd like to see.
Six or seven a night,
like as not.
Oh!
Holiness.
Take him home.
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Holy Father, I bring you
the signed confession
of the heretic
Savonarola of Florence.
What happened?
He was...
dragged from the Tiber.
Dogs... cats...
the stillborn offspring
of prostitutes...
and our son.
Leave us, Cardinals.
Who would do such a thing?
Who would dare?
Who had cause to wish him harm?
Any one of the many he harmed.
What?
What do you say?
Nothing, Father.
What do you say?
You asked who would
do such a thing.
The answer is,
many people, Father.
Many people.
We don't understand.
Here lies your brother,
murdered in cold blood,
and you speak as if...
Many people.
Many people, you say?
Do you count yourself
among their number?
Why-Father.
Let her speak!
What would you have me say?
You know what he did to me!
What he took from me!
You all do!
And you stood by
for the honour of the family.
I have wished him
dead a thousand times,
and now you want me
to mourn him?
I'm sorry, Father, I cannot.
And you?
He was your brother.
You show no tears?
Are you stone?
I wept them all out
for him long ago.
Over and over,
I watched him fail, and I wept.
You were there.
And still you granted him
your every favour.
Take yourselves-both...
away from our sight!
Clean him up.
Bring him back to life
as if he were our own
Lord Jesus Christ.
Yes, Eminence.
Do your work.
How could we have
missed such enmity
in the bosom of our family?
You saw with a father's eyes.
And you?
Would you have had him dead?
No.
No, he was our son.
Ah. But there were times...
many times...
when I wished that
he had not been born.
Oh.
Let him go.
Arrange the funeral
and say our farewells.
No. He is our son.
He will not be buried.
I will not let him go.
We have to bury him. No burial.
Do you hear me? No burial!
Hell is too good for you!
Burn for eternity!
Burn in Hell, you Satanic dog!
Ugh!
On your feet!
Burn, Friar!
Burn in Hell, you scum!
You betrayed the
Church and the people!
Traitor! Burn the heretic!
Liar!
Let justice be done!
Now you're gonna burn!
You're a liar and a hypocrite!
Burn in Hell, Savonarola!
Enjoy the flames! Rot in Hell!
Go to Hell!
You betrayed us Friar,
now burn in Hell!
Holy Father.
It is time.
Torches, forward!
Torches!
Wait.
We have read your confession.
We know every poisonous
detail of your heresy,
each one of the multitude
of your sins.
And yet we are all sinners.
Our sacred trust holds,
even at this moment,
this heartbeat between
this world and the next.
Do but repent,
and your sins may be forgiven.
Whatever you have done,
we are disposed to grant
you our absolution.
Let him burn.
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Hot enough for you now?
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Cesare?
Little sister.
I would ask you something.
Then ask, and it is yours.
I would ask you to marry me.
As you wish.
My word is my word.
We shall run away,
change our names perhaps.
Live out our days
in some small fishing
village by the coast,
where no one will ever
guess who we once were.
To Alfonso.
Yes, yes, I know.
You would have me
marry you to him.
Yes.
Do you love him?
I think he is good.
I believe I can love him.
So you have a good man at last.
But I cannot marry you.
I truly wish it.
These hands have seen
too much of blood and sin
to join two such
tender creatures.
These hands bear
a cardinal's ring.
Until today they have.
But no longer, I think.
So...
Lucrezia is to be married.
The brightest and
bleakest of days.
They say you're not eating.
We fast...
we abstain...
we scourge our flesh...
we take all mortification.
And still we are punished.
This is not God's doing, Father.
Everything is God's doing!
Until we find his murderer,
though we scour all Italy,
Juan shall not be buried.
There must be a funeral.
It is arranged.
No!
We will not send him
to purgatory.
He will have no rest
until we find who did this.
There can be
no hiding place so deep
that we will not seek them out.
There will be no need of that.
Do you know who did this?
I do.
Well, then, tell us!
You truly wish to know?
Ah...
Well, we...
...must.
Then first I ask that
you hear my confession.
Your confession?
And I further ask
that you release me
from my vows as cardinal,
and...
I ask for your
forgiveness of my sins.
What sins have you committed?
I have protected the papacy
against her enemies
when none other would
stand his ground.
I have made my family strong
in the face of those
who would weaken it.
I have brought low
the heretic Savonarola
and outwitted the army
of the French King,
and all this, Father, all this,
I have done for Rome
and the Church...
and for you.
Tell me your sins.
It is this, and only this:
That I have taken upon my head
the act that none other
would dare commit,
though its commission
benefits all.
I swore a vow long ago
that I would put
an end to anyone
who brought dishonour
on our family,
dishonour on Rome,
dishonour on you.
Oh... oh... oh.
So you see, Father,
the robes of a cardinal no
longer sit easy on my shoulders.
A cardinal's ring
makes it harder
to grip the hilt of a sword.
I beg you will
release me of my vows,
and you will grant
me your forgiveness.
Father?
I release you from your vows.
I have met with the committee
of ceremonies.
The funeral is being arranged.
Your father won't
hear of it, Cesare.
He won't even consider it.
He doesn't need to consider it.
There will be a Requiem Mass.
The city bells will be muffled,
there will be 16 black
horses drawing a carriage
dressed in black silk
to bear the coffin.
That is the funeral.
But first, your betrothal.
We are cancelling
the celebration.
Surely it cannot go ahead?
Surely it must go ahead.
It is for me to decide,
and the decision was made.
Cesare, listen to me.
It is not possible.
No. It must stand.
Life does not hold its
breath for one man's grief.
Yes, and wounds
take time to heal!
Not a word more! Please!
It is decided!
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Requiem eternam dona ei, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat ei.
[♪]
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Pie Jesu Domine,
dona ei requiem.
Dona ei requiem sempiternam.
Grant him peace.
[♪]
[♪]
So, tell me, Cesare,
what exactly are
we celebrating?
Your sister's betrothal
or the death of your brother?
My love for my sister outweighs
my grief for my brother.
Grief?
Then why do you force
this false joy upon us?
We are dancing on
your brother's grave.
Mother. Mother. He's here.
We would speak with you.
Father.
Bring us some wine.
It is good, Holiness.
What's happened to
your hands, Father?
We have buried our son.
And we realize now...
that we have brought
this upon ourselves.
Father?
You are our own doing.
What you've done
is our doing also.
We brought you to this.
You say we granted
every favour to him.
But our favours fell on him so
easily, of their own accord.
You are too much like me.
A man feels less...
favour for his own
image reflected.
If I cannot have
your affection,
can you at least grant me
your forgiveness?
I...
Father.
Father!
No! Father!
HELP!
Father!
Guards!
Holy Father!
Rodrigo!
God!
[♪]
[♪]
Father,
we must discuss our brother.
He is hurtling towards ruin.
And he will drag this
whole family with him.
You're pathetic.
You want to inhabit my shoes.
Wear my armour. Carry my sword.
You will end your life
in a clerical skirt.
It is a daughter's duty to
marry her father's choice!
She will love whom she chooses.
She is a Borgia.
I would have married as you bid.
But if I had followed my heart...
So, the future of this family
is in thrall to your heart?
You stand accused of
defying papal orders
to cease your
heretical preaching.
I will walk through this fire
to show I speak God's truth!
Savonarola's been disgraced.
He's being hauled
to Rome as we speak.
Has he confessed? He will.
When the rack embraces him,
he will confess.
Present yourself
as a Franciscan.
Seek employment as his taster.
If hired,
you will bide your time.
You may have one chance only
to deliver a fatal dose.
One day you'll realize
that everything I've done
has been for your own good.
Like you took care of Paolo?
A stable boy.
For the good of the family.
Exactly so.
Leave my baby!
Juan, leave my baby alone!
What happened to you, Juan?
You were such a lovely child.
Tell me about poison.
I would happily kill tonight.
And break your father's heart?
Help him through his dark night.
Don't let envy rule your heart.
He loves his
errant son, does he not?
More than he loves
his dutiful one.
No killing then.
Hearts may yet be broken.
Have you come to beg
forgiveness for your insult?
You're already forgiven.
Ah!
We're Borgias;
We never forgive.
[♪]
[♪]
Make your confession
and all this will end.
You want that, don't you?
An end to all this pain?
You sign this, and it's done.
What do you say?
Yes... yes.
Release him.
You sign here.
Here!
Put him back.
You were to bring me two things.
A confession from the heretic
and your brother.
Tell us you have at least
one out of the two.
Savonarola will
break on the rack.
His confession will
come any day now.
It has been too
many days already.
And our second son?
I had all of Rome searched.
And?
Make more effort.
A man doesn't just
vanish into the wind.
Everywhere you have searched
before, search again.
Again, your Eminence?
Yes, make more effort.
Find him!
You've searched his
friends' palaces,
brothels, gaming halls,
taverns, the like?
Yes, Your Eminence. Many times.
Start with the mortuaries.
Stop.
Who are you?
I am Prince Alfonso d'Aragona,
Duke of Bisceglie
and Prince of Salerno.
What are you doing here?
I am suitor to
the Lady Lucrezia,
daughter of his Holiness,
Alexander the Sixth,
Pope of Rome.
Indeed?
Lucrezia Borgia?
Poor boy.
Come. I will take you to her.
So you are suitor to
the Lady Lucrezia.
I am.
A great responsibility
for one so young.
Take off your cloak.
If I remove my coat, what
will you remove in return?
We will see.
The Lady Lucrezia has
a great many suitors.
Some are wheat and
some are chaff.
And it falls to me to separate
the one from the other.
I am neither wheat nor chaff.
I am Alfonso d'Aragona,
and I am flesh and blood.
Turn around.
If it pleases you.
It pleases me.
Now you must do
the same in return.
If it pleases you.
It pleases me.
So, what now?
How far does your Lady Lucrezia
care for this game to go on?
There is no limit.
Just as one would have one's
groom break in a new horse...
so it is with my lady's
lovers and me.
Before he ate only sardines
and drank only water.
So I poisoned the water
and then he drank wine.
I fear I will fail you.
God has chosen you
for this glorious path.
This pope is on
the brink of a chasm.
One breath...
your breath...
will topple him.
When the moment comes,
you will know.
God will tell you.
I know what you are. Yes?
I have had your kind
stoned to death...
and their corpses dragged
through the streets.
My kind?
Men who lay with men.
Sodomites who corrupt
young innocent boys
who artists use as angels.
I have cleansed
Florence of her sin.
And yet here I am.
Your last chance.
Will you confess?
To you?
To you?
Never.
To your master.
Yes.
None else.
Duke of Bisceglie
and Prince of Salerno.
Yes.
What are they like,
Bisceglie and Salerno?
Beautiful.
But for all the world
I would rather be here.
You find Rome so appealing?
Not Rome.
Here.
When you speak of me
to the Lady Lucrezia...
Mm?
If... your account
is favourable...
can you and I...?
Never.
We must never see
each other again.
If you are hers,
you are hers alone.
So...
tell her I was inept, or
coarse or beyond ugly.
And come with me
and be mine alone.
You would turn down the
pope's own daughter for me?
Why?
Because I have never
known a woman so lovely.
Poor boy.
It's time for me to go.
Who would have thought a body
could stand so much pain?
They've tortured
the man near to death.
The strength of a faith
misguided is still a strength.
He thought he could
walk through fire.
I disabused him of that notion.
You have broken
his hold on power.
You have broken
the bones of his body.
All that you lack
is his confession.
Exactly so.
That which was said publicly
must be recanted publicly.
Even in death
he would be poison.
Rome needs this confession.
Then...
give it to them.
He is pleased to
see his grandfather.
We don't see enough of him.
We have other
things on our mind.
Juan will come home.
He always does.
Hm.
Well, Juan is not
our only concern.
There are other matters of...
state and...
...family.
Ah.
State and family
must mean marriage.
You have another
suitor standing by.
Well, Prince Alfonso d'Aragona.
Well, I've heard of him.
He's arrived at last.
He's a child, is he not?
Well, no, he's young.
A boy of clay to mould
into a man of my liking?
We would have you meet him
and not dismiss him
out of hand,
but meet him as a
dutiful daughter should.
If it is my duty,
I shall meet with him.
Oh. Strictly as a duty.
Yes.
Oh.
Oh.
Nanny, I think little
Giovanni done a-you know.
Come here. Yes, there you go.
Ooh. Holiness.
May I, my lady?
I'll take him.
Oh dear.
Oh dear.
Presenting the most gracious...
Lady Lucrezia Borgia.
This is Prince
Alfonso d'Aragona?
Yes.
Duke of Bisceglie
and Prince of Salerno.
I...
Well, I...
Yes? I...
Does he just make noises?
Oh.
Yes, I will marry him.
He has all the sweetness
of an apple on the tree.
I will marry him
tomorrow if you wish it.
Oh!
You may kiss me.
On the cheek.
What a most charming
and welcome eventuation.
We feel invigorated!
Your Holiness.
How refreshing that our children
are still able to surprise us.
Eminence.
We have a body, your Eminence.
What?
Well, tell us.
There is a body.
OUT!
Who-Who... is this?
No one, your Holiness.
It's a mistake.
You've been searching
the mortuaries.
Did our son order this?
No, I did.
You consider him dead?
I consider the possibility.
Do you truly want to do this?
Truly, no.
But we must.
How long must this continue?
We both know you
cannot stand much more.
I...
have run dry of screams.
Then end it.
Admit your heresy.
My strength fails me.
My will fails me.
I saved you
for this very purpose.
Now you sign it, and end it.
I am weak...
and...
and no will...
No.
No!
You went too far!
He's alive.
Just.
God speaks to me!
Whatever you do to me...
God is ready.
I thank God
for your confession.
He cannot speak of this.
You... bastard!
Guards!
You will burn for
your blasphemy!
No, it is you who will burn.
And with my last strength
I damn this unholy pope.
I shout to the world the
falseness of this confession!
Hold him.
I'll have your tongue.
Hold him!
These poor creatures were
all brought in last night?
Yes, lady.
The carts come in
all night long.
The haul from the river's in
here, sir, if you'd like to see.
Six or seven a night,
like as not.
Oh!
Holiness.
Take him home.
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Holy Father, I bring you
the signed confession
of the heretic
Savonarola of Florence.
What happened?
He was...
dragged from the Tiber.
Dogs... cats...
the stillborn offspring
of prostitutes...
and our son.
Leave us, Cardinals.
Who would do such a thing?
Who would dare?
Who had cause to wish him harm?
Any one of the many he harmed.
What?
What do you say?
Nothing, Father.
What do you say?
You asked who would
do such a thing.
The answer is,
many people, Father.
Many people.
We don't understand.
Here lies your brother,
murdered in cold blood,
and you speak as if...
Many people.
Many people, you say?
Do you count yourself
among their number?
Why-Father.
Let her speak!
What would you have me say?
You know what he did to me!
What he took from me!
You all do!
And you stood by
for the honour of the family.
I have wished him
dead a thousand times,
and now you want me
to mourn him?
I'm sorry, Father, I cannot.
And you?
He was your brother.
You show no tears?
Are you stone?
I wept them all out
for him long ago.
Over and over,
I watched him fail, and I wept.
You were there.
And still you granted him
your every favour.
Take yourselves-both...
away from our sight!
Clean him up.
Bring him back to life
as if he were our own
Lord Jesus Christ.
Yes, Eminence.
Do your work.
How could we have
missed such enmity
in the bosom of our family?
You saw with a father's eyes.
And you?
Would you have had him dead?
No.
No, he was our son.
Ah. But there were times...
many times...
when I wished that
he had not been born.
Oh.
Let him go.
Arrange the funeral
and say our farewells.
No. He is our son.
He will not be buried.
I will not let him go.
We have to bury him. No burial.
Do you hear me? No burial!
Hell is too good for you!
Burn for eternity!
Burn in Hell, you Satanic dog!
Ugh!
On your feet!
Burn, Friar!
Burn in Hell, you scum!
You betrayed the
Church and the people!
Traitor! Burn the heretic!
Liar!
Let justice be done!
Now you're gonna burn!
You're a liar and a hypocrite!
Burn in Hell, Savonarola!
Enjoy the flames! Rot in Hell!
Go to Hell!
You betrayed us Friar,
now burn in Hell!
Holy Father.
It is time.
Torches, forward!
Torches!
Wait.
We have read your confession.
We know every poisonous
detail of your heresy,
each one of the multitude
of your sins.
And yet we are all sinners.
Our sacred trust holds,
even at this moment,
this heartbeat between
this world and the next.
Do but repent,
and your sins may be forgiven.
Whatever you have done,
we are disposed to grant
you our absolution.
Let him burn.
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Hot enough for you now?
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Cesare?
Little sister.
I would ask you something.
Then ask, and it is yours.
I would ask you to marry me.
As you wish.
My word is my word.
We shall run away,
change our names perhaps.
Live out our days
in some small fishing
village by the coast,
where no one will ever
guess who we once were.
To Alfonso.
Yes, yes, I know.
You would have me
marry you to him.
Yes.
Do you love him?
I think he is good.
I believe I can love him.
So you have a good man at last.
But I cannot marry you.
I truly wish it.
These hands have seen
too much of blood and sin
to join two such
tender creatures.
These hands bear
a cardinal's ring.
Until today they have.
But no longer, I think.
So...
Lucrezia is to be married.
The brightest and
bleakest of days.
They say you're not eating.
We fast...
we abstain...
we scourge our flesh...
we take all mortification.
And still we are punished.
This is not God's doing, Father.
Everything is God's doing!
Until we find his murderer,
though we scour all Italy,
Juan shall not be buried.
There must be a funeral.
It is arranged.
No!
We will not send him
to purgatory.
He will have no rest
until we find who did this.
There can be
no hiding place so deep
that we will not seek them out.
There will be no need of that.
Do you know who did this?
I do.
Well, then, tell us!
You truly wish to know?
Ah...
Well, we...
...must.
Then first I ask that
you hear my confession.
Your confession?
And I further ask
that you release me
from my vows as cardinal,
and...
I ask for your
forgiveness of my sins.
What sins have you committed?
I have protected the papacy
against her enemies
when none other would
stand his ground.
I have made my family strong
in the face of those
who would weaken it.
I have brought low
the heretic Savonarola
and outwitted the army
of the French King,
and all this, Father, all this,
I have done for Rome
and the Church...
and for you.
Tell me your sins.
It is this, and only this:
That I have taken upon my head
the act that none other
would dare commit,
though its commission
benefits all.
I swore a vow long ago
that I would put
an end to anyone
who brought dishonour
on our family,
dishonour on Rome,
dishonour on you.
Oh... oh... oh.
So you see, Father,
the robes of a cardinal no
longer sit easy on my shoulders.
A cardinal's ring
makes it harder
to grip the hilt of a sword.
I beg you will
release me of my vows,
and you will grant
me your forgiveness.
Father?
I release you from your vows.
I have met with the committee
of ceremonies.
The funeral is being arranged.
Your father won't
hear of it, Cesare.
He won't even consider it.
He doesn't need to consider it.
There will be a Requiem Mass.
The city bells will be muffled,
there will be 16 black
horses drawing a carriage
dressed in black silk
to bear the coffin.
That is the funeral.
But first, your betrothal.
We are cancelling
the celebration.
Surely it cannot go ahead?
Surely it must go ahead.
It is for me to decide,
and the decision was made.
Cesare, listen to me.
It is not possible.
No. It must stand.
Life does not hold its
breath for one man's grief.
Yes, and wounds
take time to heal!
Not a word more! Please!
It is decided!
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Requiem eternam dona ei, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat ei.
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Pie Jesu Domine,
dona ei requiem.
Dona ei requiem sempiternam.
Grant him peace.
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So, tell me, Cesare,
what exactly are
we celebrating?
Your sister's betrothal
or the death of your brother?
My love for my sister outweighs
my grief for my brother.
Grief?
Then why do you force
this false joy upon us?
We are dancing on
your brother's grave.
Mother. Mother. He's here.
We would speak with you.
Father.
Bring us some wine.
It is good, Holiness.
What's happened to
your hands, Father?
We have buried our son.
And we realize now...
that we have brought
this upon ourselves.
Father?
You are our own doing.
What you've done
is our doing also.
We brought you to this.
You say we granted
every favour to him.
But our favours fell on him so
easily, of their own accord.
You are too much like me.
A man feels less...
favour for his own
image reflected.
If I cannot have
your affection,
can you at least grant me
your forgiveness?
I...
Father.
Father!
No! Father!
HELP!
Father!
Guards!
Holy Father!
Rodrigo!
God!
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