All language subtitles for Borgia S304

1498

Hiya!

Hiya!

Whoa.

Ah, Jean.

I bring you boundless love
from my sister, Charlotte.

- She is well? And my daughter?
- Both are healthy. They miss you.

And King Louis, does he miss me?
Will I be embraced or arrested?

Hard to say. When Louis arrived here
in Milan, he was singing your praises:

"Cesare, quel grand homme.
Cesare quel grand seigneur.

Cesare quel grand guerrier,
subjugating the Papal States."

- Uniting.
- Uniting.

Then word came that you had seized Arrezo
and marched too close to Florence.

Now the mere mention of Cesare Borgia
turns the sovereign sour.

Then I must find out what the sight
of Cesare Borgia does.

- Most Christian King.
- Do not feign reverence for me.

- Louis...
- I gave you an army

to restore the Papal States,
not to conquer Tuscany.

- I know.
- You know.

And yet your army occupies Arezzo.

If they are not conquerors,
then what are they? Hmm?

Tourists?

Your silence is articulate, Cesare.

Your silence tells me that you are
a lethal combination of Ares and Kratos.

I thank you for making
this immutable fact clear.

No single man will stand between you
and your ambition,

but perhaps, the solidarity of many can.

France supports Pesaro, San Marino,
Elba, Pianosa,

Urbino, Bologna, and Florence.

And do not look to him!
Look to me!

I will send Swiss soldiers to protect
Florence should you be unable

to restrain yourself from penetrating
its walls. Six thousand men.

- You may go.
- Your Highness,

this shark swims through Italy
devouring duchy after duchy.

Who knows where next?
Yet you set him free.

Stand aside, Bentivoglio.

Lordly King, my sword will debone
this bastard son of a corrupt priest.

Ah, Guidobaldo,
how nice to see you fully dressed.

I am told that as my troops
approached Urbino,

you fled your castle
wearing nothing but your fear.

My falcon is back.

Mama, please listen.

I am more devoted to you
than to Immacolata herself.

And I have reached out to you
numerous times

by messenger and mediator
only to be rebuked.

Your Teofilo... is not faithful.

He tried to kiss me.

- Why are you trying to hurt me?
- Lucrezia.

- Oh you. You bastard.
- What did I do?

Bastard! Out! Out! Out!

There. Are you happy?
Once again alone.

Go, and leave your wretched mother
to her loneliness.

Two cardinals are dead.

You accuse the Holy Father
of poisoning two brother cardinals?

The papal treasury has never been so low,

and suddenly two healthy
and wealthy cardinals die.

We all know the Borgia are masters
at murder by cantarella.

A deadly fever stampedes Rome.
Their sudden sickness was caused by that.

I will not stand here any longer
and listen to nonsense.

Be careful the pope does not poison you.

Your spy in the Borgia household
has told you this?

As I have said, I have no spy.

But your death is the next logical move
orchestrated by Gacet.

Find a way back into Gacet's heart.

The Colonna brothers have ordered me
to seduce you... again.

And in telling me, I am supposed
to believe that you are on my side.

Yet, I know you come here hoping
to learn my most damaging secrets.

The irony is...
I want to know these secrets.

Not for the benefit of the Colonna
or even Della Rovere, but for my own sake.

I want to know
who you truly are, Fransesc.

Because you care, obviously.

I did care. I swear on my dark heart,
which you have softened.

And if you would reveal yourself to me,
I would be certain that you care as well.

Remain uncertain.
My tongue is silent.

Well...

...my tongue will speak without words.

I have spared you the ordeal
of dining with Bentivoglio,

da Montefeltro and the other sycophants.

Our only companions will be as many
bottles of wine as we can empty.

The duke and I wish to be alone.
I will serve our dinner.

You are the king. I will serve you.

I am the king and you will be silent!

- Did I say go?
- Yes, Majesty.

- You will make me fat.
- I intend to.

Only then might I be able
to keep pace with you.

Bon appétit.

You showed me mercy today.
How can I repay the debt I owe?

I have waited patiently for two things.

First, the pope's blessing
of my claim for the throne of Naples.

Second, his guarantee of safe passage
by my troops through the Papal States.

Give me the 6,000 troops
and permission to seize Florence,

and I will place the crown of Naples,
as I did Milan, on your head.

Three thousand men, not six.
And Bologna. Not Florence.

Bologna is more useful. She is by far
the richest city in the Papal States.

Sacred Majesty,
I render to you infinite gratitude.

Enough politics. Enough war.

Let us speak of the heart's sweet madness.

- How is your queen?
- We live in eternal bliss.

Ah, bon.
I too wish to share in such bliss.

If you would permit my good wife
and daughter to join me...

No. Surrender Arezzo.

Bring me my plate.

- Hiya. Hiya.
- Giddyup!

Who needs theater, literature or music

when one can be amused
by watching children at play.

That is because they still possess
the innocence of a child.

Hold on to the arm with this hand...
and your lance with the other.

Little Rodrigo will soon join
Cesare on the battlefield,

but only God and your brother knows
where that will be.

Cesare is a miser when it comes
to including us in his strategies.

Alfonso, you do not know
if little Rodrigo is yours.

I know beyond knowing.

When I saw him that first time,
I felt our bond.

My husband has expressly forbidden me
to let you anywhere near the child.

Defy him, that Neapolitan wart.

I am no longer governor of Spoleto
nor regent of the Church.

I am once more merely a woman.

To do as one wishes,
one must be born a man.

If that were true,
you and I would be together.

Instead, I am a man
who has lost one child to death,

and for these three years,
has been denied the other.

How can you prevent little Rodrigo
from embracing his true father

when you waited a lifetime to learn
the truth about yours?

Have you forgotten the agony of those
endless days and irretrievable nights?

- A mace?
- A gift from Louis.

We must make known
throughout Italy the king's other gifts.

When Bentivoglio hears that France
will allow my army to seize Bologna,

the good duke will rush to gain
my friendship.

A messenger has brought news.

Famine spreads through your city
of Cesena.

Those noble folk.
I will alleviate their suffering.

But first I must deal
with Vitelli's occupation of Arezzo.

Bring the French and Gascon troops
there to rejoin the rest of my army.

Florence is safe, for now.

I have Louis' blessing to take Bologna.

- The French know nothing of politics.
- Does Florence?

Why did Arezzo fall so quickly?

Because you stripped the townspeople of
their honors and steal their possessions,

then require obedience as further
humiliation. A foolish way to rule.

- And you would?
- Do as the Romans did.

Either slaughter the best of their men

or treat even the weakest
with breathtaking kindness.

I go to Arezzo.

You will attend me.

You swore... that you would obey me
in this one regard.

I ask nothing of you
even though I have the right.

He is my son.

No. Alfonso.

Oh, my God, no!

Stop it!
Rodrigo!

Do not come near.
Leave now. Go.

Gacet is the bastard son
of a Mudejar whore,

abandoned by her fellow Muslims
after the Reconquista.

His father was the steward of the Borgia
estate in Valencia,

where Francesc met Rodrigo,
who never mocked him nor despised him

for his heathen origins.

I knew your lies could unleash
Gacet's truths.

In Spain I will obtain documentation
regarding Francesc's true origin.

You love Gacet, but you would still
destroy him?

All the better.

- Our son has agreed to France's terms?
- Vitelli must withdraw from Arezzo.

Maldito.

- Alfonso d'Este. I want him dead.
- Why is this news?

I need you to arrange it. In no way can
his demise be traced back to me.

If to become pope I am forced to kill,
then God's will be done.

But d'Este's death is puerile.

For three years I have been
your informant,

yet have never asked for a reward.

Perform this or I will peek through
no more keyholes.

I care little. Lately you have unearthed
few secrets of substance.

But some advice: never trade
on another man's life

unless you are willing to back
the transaction with your own.

Dispose of d'Este or crawl back
into your wormhole.

I will apply snail mud and ear wax.

In one hour, wash the affected area
gently with warm water.

He will be fully restored.

One of you is most welcome to Arezzo,
the other never will be.

Bring me inside. I am thirsty.

Have the chancellor of Florence shown
to the grandest bedchamber.

I will take the second best,
and Vitelli the third best.

Florence lifts her skirts and clutches her
throat in terror.

As a result, France rattles its sabers
at me. I have you to thank.

Cesena suffers famine and needs
my guidance, yet here I stand.

You must surrender Arezzo.

The people of Arezzo were in revolt
against the heavy taxes

forced upon them by Florence. I merely
aided them in their fight for freedom.

- Yes, your heart is pure.
- Cesare, I did this for you.

Strategically, you now control Pisa,
Cesena, Forli, San Marino,

Urbino, Arezzo, Siena and Piombino,
cities which surround Florence.

Invasion is possible, victory is certain.
You can be master of Tuscany.

I will decide where I will be master
and when.

Not you. Not Louis. Not the pope.

Timing is more important than force.

I would have taken Arezzo,
but not at this moment.

Dear friend, I beg you.
I cannot rest until I flay the signory.

- Let me avenge my brother's death.
- Dead brothers must be forgotten.

Arezzo is mine.

Who protects your Città di Castello
while you recklessly pursue revenge?

You would not dare to raid my city.

I am Cesare Borgia.

Very well. I will withdraw my men
from Arezzo this day.

And I resign from your military council.

I will depart with my cannons.

Shove the biggest one up your ass.

Angela!

I am the worst mother alive.

My mother will know what to do.
I will go to her at once.

Mama.

Mama, I know you do not want to see me,
but I have nowhere else to turn.

Little Rodrigo has hit his head
and now his brain is numb.

- Has he been seen by a doctor?
- To no avail.

If medical means have not cured him,
we must explore the spiritual.

The spiritual? When I was dying
at the Abbey Subiaco,

you took me away before the exorcism.

Lucrezia, I have lived my life
seeking pleasure.

Running a brothel, debauching a priest.

But now, as sunset comes, my memories
do not turn to money or lovers,

but to you, Cesare and Goffredo
and Juan.

- When Juan died, he descended...
- Mama...

No, if ever I could feel God,
he was at Juan's funeral.

Cold and hard.

I have banished God from my life
for so long, but now His fear is in me.

I have already prayed for my child.

The waters in the grotto
at the church of Santa Maria Via Lata

possess the power to heal.

Beloved people of Cesena,
hear me.

My army and I will live off half rations
and share our food with you.

I have sent word to Pope Alexander,
who weeps over your suffering

and will send wheat, sugar, salt and wine
from the papal reserves.

Be at peace.
I am with you.

Bless you.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Duke Giovanni Bentivoglio.

To what do I owe
the gift of your presence?

Even the birds in Bologna know

that King Louis has granted you
permission to conquer my city.

Dear Cesare, I would prefer an alliance
between us instead.

You, my comrade? The man who smiled
when Louis disfavored me

and who then stalked off when I was
endowed with royal blessings.

I am guilty. My mind poisons my heart
at times, as does yours.

To prove your love for me, I demand
the Castel Bolognese,

- three hundred men at arms, 300 horses.
- They are yours.

- The money to maintain them.
- Certainly.

And your son.

- Ermete is meant for the Church.
- My father is the Church.

- And therefore, my son is your hostage.
- No. An officer in my army.

I will make him a man,
so that he can decide for himself

whether to kneel before God
or stand tall for Italy.

- Do as you will.
- But if you betray me, Duke,

your son will die in battle from a wound
in the front or one from behind.

Lucrezia?

I received your letter.

Please know that I have been despondent
over little Rodrigo, our son.

Think before you fire, di Calabria.

You, you were the one who fired first.

Disgracing me, a prince,
married to the pope's daughter.

- You will die.
- Poor, poor Alfonso.

Can you not see that every time
you strike a blow against me,

you push Lucrezia further away.
Killing me will end your hopes forever.

You will spend the rest of your days

pierced by the hateful gaze
of Lucrezia Borgia.

Papa.

Our physician will assess
the child's condition.

- Now, where is di Calabria?
- I do not know.

- Find him. We will have words.
- Only words, Papa. Not war.

You have forgiven that lout
for what he has done?

- At first, I was angry. But, yes.
- Why do you forgive him?

Because hating Alfonso
will not save our boy.

And I am as much at fault as he.

- Still, di Calabria must suffer.
- And d'Este.

Holiness, are you certain that you wish
to hear my confession

- and in Lucrezia's old chamber?
- Absolutely, dear Alfonso.

You need a clean soul to guide you
on your way back to Ferrara.

In nomine Patris et Filii
et Spiritus Sancti.

Bless me Father for I have sinned.

Confess the sins you have committed
with my daughter.

- Have you known her in the flesh?
- I have, Holiness.

Was she always fully willing?

More than willing.

- How can you be so certain?
- She, uh...

Lucrezia showed enormous
pleasure in the act.

For Christ's sake, be specific.

Lucrezia would often come to visit me
unexpectedly.

Her eyes glowing with lust.
Her vagina already moist.

And she would speak no words,
but fall down to her knees.

She would avidly harden my penis
between her lips, biting slightly.

Then thrust my member like a dilleto
very deep inside her.

Orgasm would come to Lucrezia
with irresistible speed.

And I would feel her insides clench again
and again around my organ

- and her body tremble with joy.
- Stop... Stop!

God forgive me.

Bologna is neutralized. You rule supreme
in ten papal dukedoms.

The Gascon and French troops have
rejoined the rest of your army.

Where do we march next?

Where do you think? Niccolo?

Northwest to Modena, Reggio Emilia
and Parma.

I second this.

Ermete? Every man at the table must
share his opinion.

Faenza.

The citizens of Faenza are very fond
of their young duke, Astorre Manfredi.

Your response?

The story of Imola's downfall rings
glorious with your personal bravery.

At Forli you proved yourself fearless.

Faenza will shudder when they see you
as if the earth has quaked.

Well spoken.

Cesare, if Faenza fails to shudder
and confronts you, I am not certain

that your army is large enough to defeat
those who are so dedicated to resistance.

Modena, Reggio Emilia,
and Parma on the other side...

What says Fortuna?

She is agreeable.
Faenza will fall.

And if the city is stubborn,
I will cinder every house,

every church and perforate
their precious duke.

Send word to Rome. Alessandro Farnese
will be my papal legate,

and you will accompany him
to negotiate Faenza's surrender.

Jean, devise a preliminary plan of attack.

So tell the truth, Ermete.

You followed your father to our meeting
in hopes that I would take you hostage.

Yes. I knew that you would need
further leverage over him.

You were my only chance
to escape the priesthood.

You are a looking glass.

Vannozza, do you really think
holy water is the answer?

I too am skeptical.
The waters of Santa Maria Via Lata

can only heal those
who have the faculties to pray.

Who is a better advocate for Rodrigo
than the pope?

We turn to you, Mary Immaculate,
living tabernacle of God.

We call upon you,
the unfailing refuge of sinners

whose mercy has never forsaken anyone.

In support of our petition,

accept the offering of ourselves
which we now make,

conscious of our unworthiness.

I see by your white faces
Faenza refuses to pay the tithe.

Sit. Eat. Reveal.

Ermete is a friend.

The duke of Faenza is protected
by his subjects with stunning fierceness.

Priests, servants of Holy Mother Church
choose Astorre over the pope.

They run to blacksmiths
with golden chalices and ciborium

to be melted down,
then forged into weapons.

Even the women train to fight.

They are truly united as a people.

If my troops were as valiant,
I could reinvent the continent of Europe.

Not everyone is so loyal.
Bernardo Grammante, chancellor of Faenza.

I come believing in your campaign
to unify Italy.

I offer intelligence,
so that you may defeat Faenza.

And your payment is what?

The thrill of seeing Italy stand
as one country?

Plus a nominal fee.

What does betrayal cost
on the open market these days?

Either you come to give me false
information or you are a traitor.

If you are treacherous, I will not reward
Faenza's outstanding bravery with deceit.

Let him be swallowed by the Brazen Bull.

God, no. Mercy. Your Grace, mercy!

We attack Faenza straight on,
like warriors, like men.

No...

No!

Rodrigo, listen.

A light wind blows.

And at first you can feel it
on your cheek...

...then on your eyelashes.

Then slowly building,
you hear the breeze

growing louder and more forceful.

You realize this is no breeze.

This is my voice and you are healed.

- I am so worried.
- Holiness, I...

Since you are the source of our grandson's
distress, you will be his savior.

You have a single day to cure him,

or not even God Almighty will protect you
from our wrath.

I will do anything to save
my precious son's life.

A father's love.
Michelangelo's Sleeping Cupid.

An outstanding piece of art,
which I am selling.

I have grown tired of its beauty.

If I asked, would you have intercourse
with someone other than your wife?

Yes.

- With another man?
- Eminence?

With... Gacet?

Yes.

"Stupid whore. We are destined to rule,
but you are a waste of my time."

- Eminence?
- I quote Ovid.

I do not ask you to seduce Gacet.
Not yet at least.

I will give you the name of a woman
well-schooled in the healing arts.

Tonight we live.

So let us eat, drink and rejoice.

Gillebert, next song.

Roland, dawn will come too soon.
Lend your voice.

Merci, Cesare, but no.
I must finish my sewing.

Sewing? You are now an old maid?

I want to wear this shirt
in battle tomorrow.

How did I not know you had a wife?
Or that she was so beautiful?

No. No woman has blessed me
with her heart.

This beauty is my dear sister, the only
woman ever to love my ugly mug.

Roland, I understand.

And know that I love your ugly mug.

These men truly respect you.

Not out of obligation,
but as one who is their equal.

In truth, I look up to them
more than they do to me.

Now we rest for tomorrow's battle?

No, this is only the French camp.
We must yet visit the Valentinois,

the Gascons, the Italians
and the Spaniards.

Each must know
that we celebrate their lives.

Roland?

- This midwife can restore the boy.
- Raise his head.

- Open his mouth.
- Hold.

- Do you give him vitriolo?
- No, a remedy from the New World.

The fruit of the ecapatli plant,

some iztac oco xochital,

the precious stones of the tetlahuital
mixed together in frigid water.

Apply this three times each day.
Also, feed him onions in honey.

- I did not want to let you down.
- We will see.

Tonight you sleep in Terra Nuova.
Take him.

"Holy Father, I, duke of Valentinois,
comte of Diois, lord of Issoudun,

prefect of Rome
have lost 3,000 troops.

I have retreated..."
No. No, write, uh, "returned to Cesena."

Shit. We start again.

"Supreme Pontiff. I, duke of Valentinois,
comte of Diois, lord of Issoudun,

prefect of Rome must again do battle
with Astorre Manfredi of Faenza.

The duke has foiled my original..."

No. No.

Another.

"Holiness. I, duke, lord, comte,
prefect, must request more money.

I... Our initial skirmish ended...
ended..."

Perhaps you should travel to Rome
and relay the, um, status

- of your campaign to the pope in person.
- "The status"? I was defeated!

In war one does not count
individual battles.

History remembers
only he who dictates the treaty.

A looking glass.

Have him brought to Bologna
with full military honors.

After Ermete is buried, tell Bentivoglio
to send another of his sons.

Priests make themselves essential
by standing between truth and man.

So do astrologers.
I want neither in my life.

- I am dismissed?
- Yes.

A man must believe in a greater power

or he becomes a man
without the power to live.

There is faith
and then there is blind ignorance.

Perhaps our lives,
perhaps the entire universe

is a sharp aching tooth
in the mouth of some monster.

What are you writing? A report
to your signory celebrating my loss?

No, these thoughts are private.

- Share them with me.
- They are not complete.

"He took the advice of a pubescent boy,
whose father he had outwitted.

The prince should not
have challenged Faenza,

knowing the loyalty of her citizens
to their duke..."

The prince?

I am no prince.

I have performed the last rites
over the battlefield dead.

Their last grave.

Remember the studium in Pisa,

when Remolino locked Professore Decio
outside our classroom?

A terrible prank.

And you lectured the class
about the female anatomy for half an hour.

Closer to ten minutes, I think.

And I have since learned
that I was incorrect.

Women do not harbor a third nipple
between their legs.

Why can we not return?

To Pisa? To Rome?

To that moment.

Cesare, if there is one thing
that defines our relationship...

...one reason that we have been
at each other's throats

and in each other's hearts,

it is because you live in the present
while I live in the past and the future.

You are depressed now because you
have reason to be depressed now.

Tomorrow you may still be depressed

when you will just as likely experience
something much grander.

If I was depressed yesterday,
I carry that into tomorrow.

I wish I could operate as you do,
living each day on its singular terms.

I am not depressed. I am not anything
I claim to be. Not Caesar.

Not Fortuna's darling.
Not the Son of God.

I am nothing.

- My son is...
- Once again a son.

The waters in the Church of Santa Maria
Via Lata truly healed him.

Or that midwife.

Or maybe another force of nature
more magical could have been at work.

I do not care who or how,

only that my baby's eyes are bright
and he laughs again.

May I hold him?

Papa.

Any word from Cesare?

He's been inside the coffin for two days.
He has not made a sound.

I have returned, Great Borgia.

Perhaps he's dead.

Quickly.

Come.

Come.

Do your eyes see me differently?

If Cesare Borgia suffers a loss,
I expect nothing less than a total loss.

Mediocrity, I despise.

And yet by being a man, is it possible
to be anything other than mediocre?

See here...

...what man...

...can do.

I have developed a new alloy, which will
produce modern, high-caliber cannons

better than those of Vitelli or France.

We will order the factory in Brescia
to begin work immediately.

And yet, weapons are useless
without a wise man to lead.

That man stands before me.

This...

This is how I see you.

We are all legless soldiers in need
of a crutch or a helping hand.

Yet I begin to believe that I am possessed
by a spirit greater than Fortuna.

A spirit which rivals God.

Perhaps this spirit is the Devil.

But no. He, she, it is even
more intense than evil.

Is it possible to transcend
all earthly knowledge?

All heavenly power?
All Hell's darkness?

Am I the most alive being who has ever
existed or am I insane?

And does a man need to be insane
to be all that he is or can be?

I will return to Rome to rejuvenate.

Faenza will fall
when I am even more perfect.

Company halt!

- Who?
- Agapito.

The men need to see you lead.

Make way for His Grace!

The river is too swollen to cross.

Perhaps there is a bridge
if we can follow the river further along.

Perhaps Leonardo can build us one
while we grow roots in the riverbank.

Let us proceed.

Move it!

If we must lose our troops,
let it be in battle, not through folly.

We must get to Rome by tomorrow.

Forward! Forward!

I will wait here
until the last of you are safe.

There is only the trying!

The rest is not our business!

Forward!

Forward!

Foward!