All language subtitles for Borgia_S02E01_1080p_BluRay_30nama_30NAMA

February 1494, the feast of St.

Valentino's.

Pedro Luisa.

Juan.

My sons, you've come back to me.

Yes, Papa.

Death has not withered you.

But tell me, who is guilty of your
murders?

Speak true.

Who is responsible?

You.

You.

Your love for us.

Your ambition.

You have destroyed the name of Borgia.

Betrayed the name of God. No!

I say no!

They accuse me.

I am innocent.

My son.

My God.

What have I done?

Am I... Am I still Pope?

In name, yes.

In more than name.

I will be Pope again.

In more than name.

Return to the palace.

I will dispose of these.

No!

Stop!

Stop! You're killing me!

Stop!

Untie me, contentment.

Eight months you've been in Naples.

And eight months I've shared your bed.

You were bored with me.

No.

Your fingers have taken me to an ecstasy
I have not known.

And yet you never let me satisfy you.

I'm a wastrel.

A laughable imitation of my brother,
Juan.

How easily I have lost my way.

My destiny.

To be not merely a general, but Caesar.

That glory is difficult to achieve.

Especially when you're mired here in
Naples.

Not if I become king.

of Naples.

You are a cardinal.

You cannot be a king.

My father is a king.

Wrecked at sacrilege. He rules the
people's states.

Who?

Amina.

My sister and I were sent to tell you.

Uncle's waiting.

Uncle wants his mass.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

We celebrate the feast of St.
Valentinus, a priest in the

early church, a martyr.

He who advocated love was rewarded with
hatred.

We must endeavor to emulate the spirit
of the man. Even if he did not

exist.

The founding fathers of our faith stole
the holiday from pagans. The Roman

festival of Lupercalia.

A fertility ritual.

An excuse for fucking.

Must we pretend to be something we are
not?

Does God not wish each of us to be who
he intended us to be?

I paid 12,000 ducats so that bourgeois
bastard could travel to Naples and crown

me as king.

Since the coronation, I'm forced to pay
the cost of maintaining his entire

household, including 300 ravenous
drunken bravis.

Cesare lives like a pagan god. Now he
dares to preach like one. Majesty?

Go at once to Rome. Tell Pope Alexander
that his son must either leave for

Valencia or return to the Vatican. I
cannot just get him out of Naples before

I'm bled dry for pillory for harbouring
a heretic.

Before mass, Cardinal Borgia informed me
that he wishes to marry your daughter

Carlotta. What?

No, no, no!

No!

The

rainwater has

barely drained away, and yet now the
streets are flooded with rumours.

Some report that when the lightning
struck the statue, they saw Michael the

Archangel take wing and fly into the
air.

My servants all whisper that these are
omens from God, predicting the fall of

the Pope.

How is Cesare?

He summoned me back to Naples.

That is not an answer.

He continues to live at the Neapolitan
royal palace, defying the Pope's orders

to leave Italy.

Good.

If Cesare goes to Spain, he will never
be allowed to return.

I am surprised he does not stay in
contact with you.

We are not as close as we once were.

He asked me to inquire about Lucrezia.

She does obey the Pope's command.

She does not venture out?

Not even into the garden.

She never leaves her bedchamber.

Her pregnancy must be kept secret.

The Pope intends to have Lucrezia wed
again.

Of course he does.

That is why ultimately he chose not to
send her to Spain.

What Rodrigo will do with her baby, God
only knows.

I could live like this forever.

Oh, not me.

I miss Rome.

Marvelous Rome.

Do you, Alessandro?

Sometimes.

Sometimes that life seems a dream. A
fairy tale.

You are the only thing that is real.

Rome is real.

Power is real.

Money is real.

Have some pecorino, Mama.

You are hiding here, my son.

I am fulfilling my duties as Archbishop
of Orvieto.

You are afraid of something.

Or someone.

I am not.

Face your fears.

Go back to the Vatican.

Advance your career.

Perpetuate our family.

Convince Rodrigo that he needs me.

May I present Zosimos Ioneos.

He's a friar with the order of Saint
Jerome.

You're an alchemist, sir? Yes, most holy
father.

But not all of us alchemists strive to
turn base metal into gold.

I have described your condition.

Fra Zosimos has concocted a cure.

Oil of vitriolo.

I start with vitriolo romano, heated in
a kiln.

Just two drops in a glass of sweet wine.

I warn you, the wine may have a burnt
flavor.

Good for stomach pains, foul breath,
poor eyesight, aging, and...

Melancholia.

Identification. Every day you see us on
our way to important papal business. And

every day you ask for us to identify
ourselves.

My orders come from General de Cordova.
No exceptions.

Look at us.

The way we are dressed.

We are princes of the church.

Perhaps. Or you could be French
mercenaries in disguise, plotting to

assassinate the Pope.

Let them pass.

And the Spanish troops have been in Rome
too long.

Their manner is barbaric, even for
Spanish. They saved us from King

Charles, yes, but I have from all
quarters received news of their... We

must rid our city of these vile
invaders.

So that your friends, the French, will
feel free to invade us again.

There was a time when he would not have
dared speak to you that way. Since Juan

Borgia's death.

Gasset has gained even more influence.

Too much influence.

We must discredit Gasset. Destroy him.
My brothers, we have been able to take

great advantage of Borgia's weakened
mind, and we will continue to do so

until he is but a puppet pope.

Gasset is an insect to be crushed
underfoot.

Some insects sting as they die.

Alessandro, now that you have returned,
here is your mission.

Uncover Gasset's darkest secret.

To have it ready.

She does not even look at me.

Carlotta.

Oh, I am hungry for her, Agapito.

And I will wed her. A wise maneuver.

By marrying the daughter of the king,
you stand next in line.

My love for her coincides with my
ambitions.

Exceeds my ambitions.

I thought I'd never love again, Agapito.

But there stands a reason you will not
marry the princess.

Nor take the throne.

She dotes on the French duke.

Guido Laval.

I'm the better man.

You learn quickly.

I have an exceptional teacher.

You still have not told me why a man
dedicated to the

prince of peace chooses to learn the art
of death.

Against which enemy do you prepare to
fight?

An enemy who was once a friend.

He is an expert at killing.

I fear when we next meet, he will kill
me.

Cesare Borgia.

General de Cordova, I'm like a
mountaineer trapped inside a crevice.

I'm no longer an ally of the Borgia, yet
the men who now embrace me are even...

Are worse than a Borgia.

Loyalty is not a commodity to be traded.

Your first and most sacred obligation is
to the kingdom of God.

Be true to your vow.

Precocio!

Holiness, you must give more thought to
our restless cardinals. I have only two

goals in mind.

Diminish papal authority and force the
Spanish troops out of Rome, leaving you

defenseless.

We want the Spaniards gone as much as
Della Rovere.

Though we are supreme pontiff, the court
ever rules the papal states.

In order to solidify our power, we must
remove him and rebuild the papal guard.

Because moments after the Spaniards
depart, the French will come crashing

down upon us.

So, we need a reason for de Cordova to
pull his army out of the city.

But not abandon the Italian peninsula.

Rebellion in Sicily. No.

De Cordova must head north to stand
between us and King Charles.

Holy Father, Cardinal Carafa has arrived
from Naples and seeks an audience on a

matter most urgent.

He comes to complain about Cesare. Tell
him I will meet him in the library.

Aristotle wrote that a man is wisest
when he is 60.

Does wisdom come with survival?

Ah, dear friend.

Blessed father.

I need to talk to you about your son,
Cesare.

You're great.

Your Eminence.

I do not mean to interrupt, but...

We four were having a debate about whose
athletes are superior, Naples or Rome's.

I am curious as to your opinion, dear
Guy.

I do not know.

Naples has more beauty.

I will say this.

Rome has better athletes than Paris.

Both. Where were your athletes when my
cousin Charles...

March these troops down the leg of
Italy.

Oh, I'm not referring to armies, but of
individual men.

Say, me and you.

You are posing a challenge.

Oui.

A one-on-one competition, any sport of
your choosing.

Guy, I do not want... My darling, no
board you I can hurt an Anjou.

I accept.

And you choose the sport.

Bullfight.

Bullfight?

Are you afraid?

Yeah. Have you ever fought a bull?

No, but if the Spaniards do, how
difficult could the effort be?

Our love will defeat this Catalan.

My secretary will meet with you to set
the time, place and terms.

Cesare, that was amazing.

You walked him step by step into your
bedroom.

He will certainly lose the bullfight.
Oh, he will do more than that.

He will lose his life.

Are you all right, Mama? Go away!

Look at that.

Lucrezia?

I have come to wish you happy dreams.

And to you.

My love, let me in to kiss you good
night.

Thank you, but no.

I deserve no kisses.

Only darkness.

Please, I ask you again.

Why do you have such thoughts?

What have you done?

If you unburden your soul, you will feel
free of your sin.

I have confessed once already to Cesare.

As a result, my world died.

Sweet child.

I love you.

Good night.

Good night.

Khatun Bey, governor of Israel, envoy
extraordinaire,

representing Bayazid II, Padashah of

the Turks.

Supreme Pontiff of the Roman Church, I
bring you greetings from my master,

Bayazet, the refuge of the world.

He has instructed me to present you in
deep respect with these gifts.

The finest our magnificent empire has to
offer.

We are grateful.

For Bayezid's generosity.

And hope we may long continue the peace
and harmony which exists between us.

Peace and harmony.

I do not believe Bayezid is interested
in anything but conquest.

Kazim Bey seems sincere.

We want you to find out.

For certain, if he isn't here.

Borgia must name a new vice-chancellor.

You are mad to think that he would
choose you.

Then we must find someone who will
collaborate with us.

Alessandro!

What deep and grim secret have you
discovered about Gasset?

I found none.

He is either truly an innocent or has
successfully sealed off all doors which

access his life. No man who has known
Rodrigo Borges since childhood is an

innocent.

You have failed us.

But I am undaunted.

I will expose Cassette, even if I must
create the scandal myself.

Too bad, Frenese.

For a fleeting moment, you were
vice-chancellor.

I do not understand, Raffaele.

I saw you weep when the Pope spoke of
his dead son.

A moment of weakness.

But a moment is all any of us can
afford.

Pope Alexander, like Charlemagne or
Mehmed, liked to anticipate the action

of his enemies as well as his friends.

He studied the maps of Europe, of Asia.

Pius X's lust for territory is endless,
yet stymied.

Persia to the east, Egypt to the south.

Hungary and Tsar Ivan to the north,
which leaves the west.

The Spanish troops are garrisoned in the
Papal State, so Italy is also protected.

Well, not all of Italy.

His Holiness believes Bayezid will try
to feed Venice, her islands of Zante and

Cephalonia, first.

You need not answer. The shift in your
eyes confirms His Holiness's judgment is

correct. Our ships will be there
imminently, or you can do nothing to

stop them.

Venice considers herself above all other
Italian cities.

When asked to join the Holy League and
save the papacy, the Doge was

indifferent.

Now Pope Alexander is indifferent.

He's giving us permission to attack?

We must convince the court of to take
his troops to Venice and battle the

Turks. And he must act on impulse,
because if he waits for permission from

Madrid, we will all be in our tombs.

What do we know about the general? Well,
he fought with your son, Pedro Luis, at

the Battle of Ronda, and he negotiated
peace with the Muslim emirate. No, no,

what do we know about him as a person?
His sexual appetites, his...

Is he superstitious?

I will find out.

And then summon your friends.

I cannot tell which is worse, my
wretched singing or my lousiness

playing. I can assure you my composition
would sound more elegant if there were

stronger voices and pliable fingers.

Though, in my opinion, the fratola...

As a musical form, as at its day. We
must continue to experiment, yes?

But this is the home of Fiametta
Micaeli?

Uh, no.

Yes, I guess.

But where is she?

She's gone an hour ago with her son to
visit relatives in Pisa. She will return

when the work is done. If the work is
done.

You're the builder.

No, I'm the benefactor.

Pietro Bembo.

Of Venice.

Bembo? The poet?

Yes. No, I try.

I talk about poetry better than I write
it.

And you're here to sell something?

I came to see my grandson.

You're Bonazza Catanei.

I know your father, Jacopo, a brilliant
man of painting artist.

In fact, he told me when I reached Rome
to pay you a visit, I got, as usual,

a... But way late. I meant to be a
manager again.

I hired her so that she could provide
for my son's home.

But I received a letter this morning
informing me that she had quit my employ

and opened a house of her own.

Oh, my fault.

I'm easily enticed into making and
selling business ventures.

The cause of coming from a family with
too much money. The recklessness of

coming from a family with no social
standing.

We've been bought.

I'm no Orsini, no Borgia.

No purple in my veins, only the red
stuff.

The red stuff.

The red stuff.

La, la, la.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la.

Oh, oh. Would you care to dine in my
villa this evening?

Dine at the home of Anotta Catanei,
where the best wine is preserved and the

finest art is on display.

I want to discuss a serious matter.

With you.

I must have your word of what I say.

And what you may see will remain
confidential.

I give you a poet's oath, which is so
metaphorical, is constant.

Pope Alexander ordered Lucrezia to go to
Spain to join a convent.

But something happened.

She became pregnant.

A poet listens to the sound of words to
find their due permitting.

I convince his holiness to allow
Lucrezia to stay here, hidden, until the

birth of the child.

But as a result, Pietro, she has shrunk
from the world, from us, her family.

She remains barricaded in her suite
alone, mourning the death of her brother

and her lover. Grief is waste.

And is a danger to the infant in her
womb.

I have screamed, I have wept, but the
door remains locked.

And you tell me that... I want you to
leave her spirit.

Nothing more.

Fortunately, I brought my loot.

Y tan muerto mi espira Y tan muerto mi
espi

Yambuyo es mi padezcar Y tan muerto mi
espira

Que no puedo prender

Ni lo otro quiero dejar

Ni lo otro quiero dejar

Do you ever wish to excel at something
beyond measure?

And at each attempt, you get
progressively worse.

Pietro Bembo, your servant.

Go away.

Pietro Bembo, your disobedient servant.

Did my mother send you?

I will answer if you will tell me first,
what did you think of my song?

The lyric, I mean, the tune, still needs
perfecting.

Beautiful.

And so are you.

I see you've come to fuck me.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Physical, depraved love must be bought
and paid for so there is no expectation

of commitment on either side.

Platonic love is perpetual, binding, and
more satisfying.

Yambuyo es mi padescar.

Ha muerto mi...

Cesare, you read a lot. What has you so
enthralled?

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius.

What language is that?

Greek. Marcus Aurelius wrote Meditations
in Greek. The book has never been

translated.

You understand Greek?

I was at the university in Pisa.

How much time does a man save?

If he does not look to see what his
neighbor says, or does, or thinks.

If you are plagued by externals, it is
not they which trouble you, but the

importance you give them.

Only a madman pursues the impossible.

Who? Princess Carlotta.

Highness? I am sorry, Contessa.

I did not mean to disturb your leisure.

No, not at all. Please come in.

Maria, did you not say you had a
pressing engagement?

Yes.

Princess, you are neither in nor out.

Please be seated.

I think not.

Could we perhaps go for a walk in the
gardens?

Splendid idea.

I have been in residence eight months,
and this is the first time that you have

honored me with a visit.

You will not be so honored when I tell
you I have come.

I want you to cancel this bullfight.

Me?

No. You must cancel.

I have tried to persuade him to the
point of sounding like a shrew.

But he will not withdraw.

He's too stubborn.

I am a Borgia.

We invented stubborn.

You have won many bullfights.

I saw you in Rome.

You are magnificent.

Thank you, Princess.

A withdrawal by you will not harm your
pride.

How little you understand, man.

Our souls are tied, as if by an
invisible cord, to our private parts.

For a man, strength and courage are the
be-all.

We have a need to protect our women and
to prove to other men that we can.

Carlotta, Guy struggles to face up to
the hard truth that he cannot protect

you.

I can.

Colotta, I love you.

How is that possible?

You do not know me beyond court ceremony
and daily mass. I do know you.

You became a part of my heart from the
first instant my eyes met yours.

Well, I do not know you, except that
you're a cardinal, and I do not wish to

be known as Madonna la Cardinalessa. I
will cease to be a cardinal.

But you would still be a Borgia.

I have heard rumors.

That is not me.

That is my reputation, propagated by the
jealous and the weak.

Carlotta, once you get to know me, you
may come to love me.

To be honest, I am far from perfect.

But I already love Guy.

And my feelings for him...

or torrential.

Have you never felt that way about
anyone before?

Then you know why I ask what I ask.

Yes, your withdrawal may cause you
embarrassment, but a man who has reason

to be proud knows the truth of himself
within himself.

Do you really care what others believe,
given they will believe what they choose

about you anyway?

You are wise, and for that I love you
more.

But I cannot change who I am, even for
the woman I love.

Then, in reality, you do not truly know
what love is.

Lucrezia invited you?

Yeah, she sent me a note to come at the
tower.

What are you doing?

I do not want to leave this out there.

Some termites will steal it.

I was afraid that you might make me
scare Vesuvius to reach you.

Pietro Bambo?

Born atop the Rialto.

You're a writer by trade?

By trade I'm a dabbler.

Rich enough to indulge me every whim.

Poor enough in talent and ambition to
flounder from one discipline to the

next. I'm even studying for the
priesthood.

God, oh, God.

Do you play the flute?

Not well.

Then we must play together.

Perhaps our sour notes combined will
turn vinegar

into wine.

Go on, play something.

But you must appoint a new
vice-chancellor. The Vatican at present

is a body without a head, movement
without purpose.

Too much work goes undone. Why are you
waiting? Why are you so impatient?

Are you not content nibbling at our
power as a rat does cheese?

General Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova,
military commander of the Papal States.

The attitude.

You have requested my presence.

Yes, great captain.

We want to share with you a dream we had
last night.

A dream?

A premonition.

In this dream...

We saw a golden lion being devoured by a
green camel which floated on the water.

Then we saw you, great captain, sword
ablaze, the banner of Queen Isabella

fluttering behind you.

You slayed the camel, saving the lion.

Beatitude, what could this mean?

Holiness. Yes, Cardinal Farnese.

At the university in Pisa, we studied
the Unione Critica of Artemidorus in

order to understand what lies behind the
images of our dreams.

How lucky for us you are so
well-educated, young Finesse.

Can you interpret our dream? I will try.

The green camel is perhaps Islam
approaching on the ship.

The lion is the symbol of St. Mark and
therefore Venice.

The Kordova must save Venice from the
Turks. There has been no attack on

Venice.

The islands of Zante and Cephalonia are
under siege by a Muslim armada. The

Turks cannot defeat the Venetians? Forty
years ago, did we believe the Turks

could conquer Constantinople?

That wound is still fresh and deep,
emboldened by a victory over Venice, by

a Zetmund ex-violet realm.

I will leave at once, Beatitude, but I
will need most, if not all, of my forces

to combat the heathens.

The debt will leave Rome undefended. The
city will survive, Cardinal Piccolomini.

We have already begun to reorganize the
papal guard.

Come. We'll discuss the logistics of
your departure.

The concessory is adjunct.

Verdum incarnatum.

We have just witnessed a fine piece of
theater.

To which you, friend, you say, seem to
have been assigned a leading role?

I've accomplished all that we have
desired.

The Spanish are leaving.

I must get word to the French.

I must get word to Sforza. The French
will attack Milan first.

I never dream.

I feel extraordinary.

Oh,

Ines.

A word.

Cardinal Orsini.

My brother. Is a traitor.

Who regrets his crime. So mercy he would
once again serve you faithfully. And in

exchange for his freedom, I would return
the harbor at Porto

to your position.

And what else?

The Archdiocese of Toronto.

Romagna as well?

Yes. DeMarcus?

Yes.

Bologna? Holiness.

We will consider your proposition.

Where is your lute? I thought we were
going to practice.

I must leave at once for Venice.

My brother Carlo has taken it.

Oh.

Is his sickness serious?

The doctor said that Carlo may not live.

I may not reach him in time.

I am sorry, Pietro.

My father is old and alone and...

We need comforting.

And so will you.

Still, I'm grateful for our brief time
together.

I am as well.

More than a simple sentence can say.

At a time where I'm cautious of
everyone, I somehow...

I want to show you.

This

dagger

stabbed my brother, Juan.

And this?

Is the one which slit his throat.

Why do you have them?

I will tell you.

Someday.

Expect to hear from me often.

Epic poems in your honor.

Better than Dante for Beatrice.

Bedrock for Laura.

Goodbye, Bella Donna.

Goodbye.

Wait! Wait!

A remembrance.

Oh.

I pity me.

Missing you.

All the men in my life leave, one after
another.

Kiss me, Pietro.

Forgive me.

I have been raised to show my affection
the most mundane of ways.

Practice the flute.

We'll be a do-it-again one day.

A direct hit.

The bully's dead.

Ah, de Laval.

I'm glad you were here.

I have sent a message to Carlotta saying
that I withdraw from the challenge.

Withdraw?

Why?

Personal reason.

If you withdraw, you forfeit.

I will be the winner.

Yes.

What?

You, romance, afraid of the darkness
around the next corner.

Ah, your grace, you see only what you
want to see.

Yes.

You are a coward.

Careful, Marcia.

I have killed men for saying less.

You are a coward.

And I will say so to the king, to
Calcutta, and to all that good.

You are half a man, poor Joe.

I do know.

Francesca, have Virginia Orsini released
from prison.

Bring him and Fabrizio Colonna to us. We
need their seasoned hands to organize

our papal guard.

And their money to pay for it.

I am in your debt, young Farnese.

Ask for something.

The return of my sister, Julia.

Her heart limbs missing you.

As mine does for her.

These past eight months, we have behaved
more pauper than Pope.

Soon we'll have our strength back.

But we are not yet fully in control.

Find a reason to justify Julia's return.