All language subtitles for Borgia_S02E04_1080p_BluRay_30nama_30NAMA

April 1494, Holy Week.

Christ rose from the dead.

A marriage of a pope's offspring has
political ramifications as well as

familial ones.

We are betrothed.

Or Christ remained that.

Take the child quickly and quietly.

A clean separation is there.

When you steal my baby, you must not
harm him.

If we believe in the resurrection,

This Borgia bull, confusing his will
with God's. Then we see the light.

We will give Savonarola the ultimate
test of his faith.

The ordeal by fire.

But the light can blind us.

I accept your challenge.

But if I'm to stand trial, Borgia, then
so should you.

Please, allow me to take your place.

The great gates to the city have been
closed.

The mace bearers have been sent to the
monastery of San Malico to escort Fred

and Menico and Savonarola here.

Your escort awaits downstairs.

And the ordeal by fire will commence.

You could still withdraw.

I'm not afraid of death.

But I always thought that mine would
come with the quick thrust of a sword,

not a slow burn.

The Pope implores me to divine a way of
saving my life.

whilst also saving our cause.

You can.

Ah.

Francesca. You asked to see me,
Eminence.

Yes.

Last night I kept vigil, kneeling before
the altar in the Duomo.

During those long, quiet hours, the
voice of St. Francis spoke to me in a

whisper. St. Francis.

What did he say?

He asked why this battle for the souls
of Florence was not being fought between

Florentines.

He asked if his brother Franciscans had
greater faith than the Dominicans.

Of course we do.

Yes.

But St. Francis wants you to prove that
you do.

How?

Cardinal Borgia, I will stand in your
place.

Savonarola will refuse.

How can he?

When Fr. Domenico stands in his place.

Captain General, the baby was stolen
from the home of Adriana Tamila 24 hours

ago. Yes, holiness.

And your search is found?

Nothing, holiness.

I suggest you redouble your efforts.

Does Lucretia know?

How did she fear?

How indeed.

Her brother is in Florence about to
burn, and her firstborn child is

missing.

She is sick at heart and inconsolable.

and let your enemies be scattered.

Rise, O Lord, and let your enemies be
scattered.

Rise, O Lord, and let your enemies be
scattered.

Rise, O Lord, and let your enemies be
scattered.

Let his foes flee from him.

As smoke is driven away, so drive him
away.

As wax melts before the fire, So let the
wicked perish before the Lord.

Arise, O Lord, and let your enemies be
scattered.

Friar Domenico will hold the Eucharist.

This is sacrilege.

We will not allow the body of the
Redeemer to burn.

You, Franciscan, are not the arbiter of
what Friar Domenico may hold. Like hell,

heretical scat!

Do not touch me. I am

a

prince of the church and the son of a
pope. I will hold the

Eucharist. Take your places.

Bow your head.

And pray in the presence of Almighty
God.

Hear this.

He who survives the flames demonstrates
true faith.

And let your enemies be scattered!

The same rains that

curse Rome.

Now baptize Florence.

John Cardinal Martin, Archbishop of
Canterbury, Chancellor

to Henry VII, King of England, Ireland,
and Wales.

Welcome to Rome, Eminence.

We trust the city agrees with you.

Holiness.

If only I could abandon my life in
London to the wiles of this most

beauteous country.

The English always have an irrational
love for Italy.

It is the food.

You have gnocchi and ravioli in England.

We have nothing. What brings you to us,
Eminence, besides your love of pasta?

His Majesty King Henry VII sends his
unwavering allegiance.

And word that his son, Henry Tudor, Duke
of York...

humbly begs for the honor of Lucrezia's
hand in marriage.

His firstborn, Arthur, is engaged to
Caterina d'Aragon, a daughter of

Ferdinand and Isabelius.

And Henry is second in line behind
Arthur to the throne of England. Henry

is only three years old, as was Arthur
when he was

betrothed.

We wish to convey our deep affection for
King Henry.

Please present him this sword of honor
as he battles pretenders to his throne.

We will consider his majesty's generous
offer regarding our much beloved

Lucrezia.

Trudeau wants this marriage to keep his
wobbly crown from toppling off his head.

Holiness, some policy would be for your
daughter to marry an Italian, thus

unifying our peninsula.

Say, Prince Alfonso de Calabria.

Alfonso, yes, but not de Calabria.

Alfonso, death day would make a fine
suitor. That grape has been plucked.

He married my cousin, Anna Maria, not a
week ago.

In fact, they make their way to Rome
with another of my cousins, Giovanni,

and his new bride.

Both couples seek a papal blessing on
their recent nuptials. Has Giovanni

already overcome his affliction?

Agapito Gerardini, secretary to his
eminent Cesare Cardinal

Borgia.

Immigratia brought here from her
mother's villa.

Holiness, I have a report from Cardinal
Borgia in Florence.

A rainstorm?

A rainstorm?

Got to admire God's theatricality.

The Florentines now believe that
Savonarola can survive any ordeal. Each

and every step that wretched water bug
evades us.

Cesare seems to be convinced that the
monk is touched by the hand of God.

Agapito, bring me Cardinal Lanzo.

The whole world knows that Christ's
glory has not been spread by force or

weapons, but by a poor fisherman.

Yet Savanaholla now has an armed guard
protecting his monastery.

And he who defies me defies God.

This monk equates himself with Christ.

His bonfires have burned every vanity
but his own.

He does not see that his pride leaves
him exposed, like the soft underbelly of

an unsuspecting animal. Is it pride?

Or true righteousness?

Did not the high priest of Jerusalem
crucify Christ?

Savonarola does not commit simony.

He does not have a mistress.

He is not killed. Not yet.

No one is incorruptible, Eminence. I do
not know what true living is. A town

with no taverns is like a woman with no
pussy.

Cousin, why are you here?

Is that how men greet family in
Florence?

My father does not think I am capable of
handling Savonarola.

After everything I have done for the
Pope, he now questions my loyalty.

No, Cesare, the Holy Father... His doubt
in me is contained within your presence.

I am not a fool.

Do not come closer.

The Supreme Pontiff demands that
Savonarola be silent or be

excommunicated. If the wrath of Christ's
vicar does not change the monk's mind,

he must die.

I see now my place in God's plan.

I am a Pharisee.

For that, I do not need the help of
either of you.

We have the papal guard searching in an
ever-widening circle around Carboniano

for your son.

Why?

So that you can send him away again?

Whether stolen or not, my baby is not
mine.

Lucrezia, we sent the child away for
your own benefit so that you could

remain in the eyes of the world.

Virgo intacta.

And be married.

The King of England's son, Henry, longs
for your hand in marriage.

And you command me to marry this Tudor
prince?

No, Lucrecia.

We, I, wish to know what you truly feel
about this proposition.

Proposal.

Why do you pretend that I contribute to
my own fate?

I do not pretend.

In the past, when you were a girl, I
have made, as a father does, choices for

you. But now your role in this family is
as valuable as that of Cesare.

You do not ask Cesare to marry women he
does not know or love. We have demanded

of Cesare a sacrifice far more precious
than marital vows.

What of Alfonso de Calabria? He believes
that we are engaged and has left for

Naples to receive a princely crown from
his uncle. Tiny Vesilia, a blotch on the

Neapolitan map.

Henry Tudor brings us England, Ireland,
and Wales.

If you wish to know my true thoughts,
then I too wish to know them.

Savonarola!

Savonarola!

Open the door!

Savonarola!

Bring me to the friar.

You are a brave one to come here without
your bravish bourgeoisie. Let him step

forward, Salviati.

You have a small army, friar.

I'm a shepherd, not a sheep. I will not
be led to the slaughter.

Ah, now you will walk head held high to
the slaughterhouse.

Let me guess why you were here.

The Pope has banned me from preaching,
either of my own free will or by more

persuasive means.

Disobey and face excommunication.

Or worse.

Be at ease, Servietti.

I beg of you, do not force my hand. You
beg of me.

I pity your ignorance, Borgia.

Mercy is for God to give. Still, you
choose to incite this turmoil.

And within you lies the power to stop
it. My words and actions are not mine,

but God's. He will decide when I must
stop. Not me, not you, and certainly not

a corrupt pope. Corrupt or not, he is
the pope.

You are not.

But you have reached a crossroads, yes?

Who do you love most?

God?

Rodrigo Borgia?

or yourself.

Those who were desperate to inhale the
smoke of our burning flesh were left

unsatisfied when the will of God
descended upon them in little drops of

rain.

You may ask, Friar,

Why are your brothers in Christ
hell-bent to make war upon you?

Because I dare say to a false pope, may
God split this earth

in two and engulf you.

The whole world is awash in the blood of
innocence, yet you and your sty of

pig-lipped priests...

Let not one hair of your eyebrows, your
faces buried deep in the trough of Rome.

Let the fire of my words burn its way
into the Antichrist's ears.

Let the fire of my words burn its way
into the Antichrist's ears.

Salonarola just condemned himself.

Let the fire of my words burn its way
into the Antichrist's ear.

Alfonso Deste and Anna Maria, Giovanni
Sforza and Ginevra,

bless you.

Amen.

Gentle guest, on behalf of my family, I
would like to express my gratitude to

His Holiness, Pope Alexander, for this
marvelous feast.

I ask you to raise your glasses in honor
of my cousins, Anna Maria and

Giovanni, and their exquisite new
spouses.

Alfonso and Zinovra.

Salute!

Salute!

What is the matter?

I am exhausted.

I have a long journey back to my
mother's. Stay here tonight, in your old

room.

Papa... I understand.

You are embarrassed being in proximity
to your former husband and his new

bride, as well as Alfonso d'Este, with
whom you shared a flirtation, and his

new bride?

While you are alone?

Giovanni and Alfonso almost came to
blows over me.

And now I'm of less interest to them
than an empty bottle of wine.

Do you blame me for my agito?

Come along.

I want to go to bed, Papa. One moment,
and then you may sleep.

Giovanni, your wife is a work of art.

Do you not agree, Lucrezia?

Yes. Thank you, holiness. I am well
loved by the Gonzaga family.

As is your bride, Alfonso.

You look beautiful, Anna Maria.

Thank you, Lucrezia. Enjoy.

Enjoy.

We will not be satisfied until you go to
bed drunk, fat, and happy.

Now you may retire Lucrezia. Why do you
humiliate me?

On the contrary.

None of them deserve to know what is
wrestling in your heart.

Be your own greatest ally.

Have you given more thought about
marrying young Henry Tudor?

So Valarola will not see reason. The
insane rarely do.

Eminence, my men are famous for their
powers of persuasion. I wish to speak

openly to Nicola. Please leave.

You may speak openly with us, with your
family, your friends. You're my father's

eyes and ears before you're anything to
me.

Go.

Savonarola is obstinacy personified.

Yes. He begs for the full force of papal
wrath to come crashing down upon this

city. The Pope proposes an interdict,
excommunicating every Florentine.

And he asks Emperor Maximilian to move
German troops through the Alps.

I cannot reconcile how Savonarola can
preach about morality, knowing that he

would sacrifice the lives of his people
to retain its position. I repeat, no one

is incorruptible.

I may be taking a liberty in a way that
displeases you. Say anything you wish.

You strike me as a man who is naturally
resolute.

If this friar were any other fellow, I
imagine he would be dead already.

But you hesitate. Why?

He alludes me.

I see God in him.

Who am I to kill God?

One must be careful not to mistake true
divinity for mere theatrics.

All right, then.

To silence Savonarola, I need only to
discredit him. By making him confess.

To what?

Fraud. If he admits that he has lied,
that he does not bask in the sunshine of

the Holy Spirit, Florence will have no
choice but to hang him. He will not

confess to lying. He will, if Salerini's
men are given a chance to persuade him.

I will not subject another man to
torture. I myself have suffered gross

injury. Nor will I lay the deed at
another man's feet.

I studied Aquinas at the University of
Pisa.

Aquinas?

The patron saint of platitudes?

No one can be called a good prince
unless he is good in more virtue than

prudent. You laugh at morality, Nicola.
No, I laugh at fantasies.

Aquinas was not concerned with the
reality of our world. Look at what is

around you.

Italy is an eternal blood-soaked
massacre.

Will you follow the good princes who
have ruled before you, rising and

falling as quickly as the moon
disappears each dawn? I know that the

only means by which my family can retain
its place is to propagate order. And

yet, I believe in the monk.

More than I ever did my own father. I
will never repeat that. I believe in

Savonarola.

But his own lust for martyrdom will kill
him. Then your hands are clean.

Like Pontius Pilate.

Your mind is extreme.

You must train it to be otherwise.

Morality is fine, but when compelled.

You must know the ways of evil and have
the metal to employ them.

Giovanni, you dare to come to me?

Please, Lucrezia, I want to make peace.
I am sick of heart. Oh, for a knife to

plunge deep into your poor sick heart.

Why do you injure me this way?

Me? Injure you? After all the lies you
spread saying that I fornicate with my

father?

I was angry. You forced me to announce
to the world that I was impotent.

My heart.

Your heart, which you bemoan so much,
has the depth of a puddle. Go.

I still love you. Go to Lagon Saga.

Did you receive my letters?

I keep them on my person always.

The parchment is nearly transparent,
worn down by my fingertips, reading each

word over and over.

Ow! How could you marry that supporter
woman?

She had the pig snout. I had no choice,
Lucrezia.

All I refuse and you are true.

You forgot your pledge.

Not so.

Not so one bit.

You have not left my mind's eye for a
single moment.

I confess that I am responsible for our
sweet affection faltering.

Do you forgive me?

I love you.

But as long as there's a wife waiting in
another bedchamber, you're not welcome

in mine.

Go to Las Forza.

My heart leaps again.

Lucrezia seems more distressed about the
presence of Alfonso d'Este than the

disappearance of her child.

What are you implying?

I imply nothing.

I merely observe.

Lucrezia is bewildered.

Her son is now her brother.

In either case, she should show concern.

When she thought Cesare might die,
Lucrezia was bereft.

I worry less about Cesare's physical
death than that of his spirit.

You enjoyed that drug.

Enjoy? No.

Medicine.

May I try?

It spoils the taste of the wine.

Even so.

You work late, friend.

I work when I'm inspired.

Inspired? By God?

By myself.

Ah, yes.

An artist must be consumed with his own
world.

Every man should be obsessed by the art
of being.

His inborn glory makes him mighty.

If not, he is a twilight man wavering in
spirit.

You do not wear the white gown of
Savonarola.

No.

I do not believe in uniformity, nor in a
hell beyond my lifetime.

So what do you believe in, other than
yourself?

This marble?

I admire the men who mine the quarry and
cart this marble here.

What of great men?

Savonarola, Francis, King Charles, the
Pope?

I have no interest in politics.

But politics control your life.

The tax that you pay on tools.

The roads which carry the marble to your
door?

The one a roller tells you whom to love.
No.

I'm the master of my head, my heart, and
my dick.

No man holds the power to judge me.

And yet they will.

Then I will do what is outrageous.

God the Father sent his only son to
earth to relieve mankind of suffering.

Yet Savonarola pretends that he knows
better than God.

He says that solely through misery can
one serve the Lord.

Deny yourselves the joys God gives, and
if you fail, you are wicked,

bound for hellfire.

Why must it be wicked?

To watch your children eating squab
instead of stale bread.

A sin to dress your wife in silk instead
of sackcloth.

God the Father created us in his image.

When we seek what is best for ourselves,
for our families, we are seeking what is

best for him.

We celebrate our Savior's generosity.

So what do you believe?

that your earthly concerns are unworthy
of our Lord's consideration.

My fellow Christians, I do not see
throngs of unworthy sinners before me.

I see the living, breathing children of
God.

Your hopes, desires, and tribulations
are felt by Him.

Embrace yourself.

Embrace the world. And you embrace
salvation.

Throw off your shackles and lead your
lives free of guilt and shame.

Borgia, you are an abomination.

The foul scent of your prostitute church
offends.

Whosoever seeks to undermine God's will.

Whether he be a tyrant or the son of one
yet to fully blossom into his own

tyranny, let him be accursed by the Lord
forever.

Is this your father's will, Bulger?

Yes.

And yours?

Is this your will?

This is your confession.

Read.

Will I not receive a trial?

Oh, this is your trial.

With all of you as my judges.

You find this humorous?

Yes. Farce always has a dark soul under
the most ridiculous scene.

Frederick, the charges against you are
thus.

One, heresy.

In your sermons, you've repeatedly
abused Holy Mother Church.

Do you deny this charge?

I do. I spoke against the man in the
Vatican, not the Church of Christ.

Two. Your repeated claims that visions
of God are intended to defraud the

public. You wish innocent hearts to
believe that you possess divine

inspiration all in the service of your
vainglorious pride and hunger for power.

You hold this trial pretending to be
just and dare to call me a fraud.

I am no fraud.

I am no fraud.

Three, the ordeal by fire.

You committed an act of sacrilege in
your attempt to send Fra Domenico into

the... Have you arrested him? To send
Fra Domenico into the flames carrying

the Eucharist.

Was the host consecrated?

Was the host consecrated, Friar?

He lies.

I do not lie.

Fradomenico has sworn on the Bible that
the host was consecrated.

Will you swear on the Bible?

I do not lie!

I do not lie! Will you continue this
testimony when you've had a chance to

contemplate your sins and agree to
confess? I do not lie!

Come wait with us upstairs.

I cannot hide from that which I have set
in motion.

My spirit is stalwart.

My body is...

Holiness, we thank you deeply for your
graciousness. We can only hope to open

our arms and our homes to you when you
bless us with a visit.

Bring him inside. Fetch the bone setter.

I will see that he is cared for.

Yes, do so, daughter.

Your followers and your protectors will
not dare to show their faces.

You are alone, Geronimo.

I am alone. Do you confess?

Again, J-Lot.

Stop!

I beg you, help me no more! Are you
willing to confess?

If he will stop, yes.

Do not torture me anymore.

God,

thy stroke has reached me.

Do you, Girolamo Savonarola, confess to
illegally organizing a political

movement and amassing arms to expedite
its mutinous aims?

No. Do you confess to being heretical
and schismatic in your preaching?

Interrogate the Pope, your father, with
these questions. His heresy is...

What of your prophetic visions? Do they
not come from your rapacious desire for

glory rather than God on high? No.

The Lord is with me.

I implore you, confess and sign, and the
pain will end. The agony I now feel is

not one speck of dust or the torture you
feel in your black, perverted heart.

You implore me to confess in order to
end your suffering, not mine.

You dare to stand in judgment of me?

You misconstrue my nature, friar.

I can remain here until the day of doom,
listening to your screams.

Pull the blasphemer up.

Do you, Girolamo Stavolorola, confess

to illegally organizing a political
movement? I do, I do.

I confess I'm guilty.

I'm guilty.

I'm guilty.

God, I have denied you, God.

I am a weak and fearful man.

Jesus, Jesus, help me.

This time you have caught me.

No, you who bore to suffer for riches
and power.

If I must suffer, I will suffer for the
truth.

I recant my confession.

I recant all I have said.

Fascinating. What do you put on his
skin?

Fever fuel, comfrey, and lid bone to
encourage rapid healing.

You cannot move until the clay has dried
and hardened.

How long must he have this setting?

I will return in 30 days' time.

30 days?

This is impossible.

If he moves before his time, the leg
will limp.

I thank you for your service.

This is a disaster.

My poor darling.

You must return to Ferrara.

But why must she leave?

My brother, Duke Ludovico, is en route
to Alfonso's father in Ferrara. An

official state visit.

Months in the planning. You must be
there.

To do otherwise would shame us.

I will be well cared for.

No one will care for you as attentively
as your wife. My duty... Dear lady, I

could never hope to equal you in
attentiveness, but I will see that I

found the one for nothing.

Yes,

you are well known for your boundless
generosity.

Love, you would do me a great service
presiding over the affairs of our house

while I am unable to.

You are most beautiful.

This is your confession.

You can hardly see, Eminence.

I've been weeping for my sins.

Could you read my words aloud?

Why?

Surely you remember what you confessed?

Legally, his request is valid.

I have betrayed God. I am evil. I am a
sinner, doomed to spend an eternity in

the dung heaps of hell.

I just wanted to hear you say it.

Sign.

I would, Your Eminence, but I cannot
move my arm.

Would you sign for me?

You ask me whom I love.

God, Rodrigo, Borja, or myself.

Well, how can I love God when, if he
exists, he has abandoned you?

And you have abandoned your father.

Savannah Roller has signed his
confession.

Now you must sign his death warrant.

Is everything in order?

Killing a man with a pen is no easier
than using a sword.

You've sent many men to their death.

But not this man.

Are they gone?

I have you to myself for a month.

Come help me remove this setting.

No, we must maintain the illusion that
you are hurt so that we may in secret

enjoy ourselves freely.

Lock the door.

Lift up your skirt.

Alfonso. Lift up your skirt.

Higher.

Higher.

Do not tease me.

Above your belly.

Come here.

You are most beautiful.

How am I to believe you?

You said the same words to your wife.

for the Pope?

Put the bottles anywhere, please.

Unholy impostors, you are condemned this
day as heretics, schismatics,

and contenders of the Holy See.

You're divested of the instruments which
were bestowed upon you by God at the

time of your ordination.

I separate you from the church
triumphant. From the church militant,

but not triumphant.

That lies beyond your power, lackey.

God does not forsake us, Portia.

We forsake him.

The sentence is death.

Forgive me, brother.

Had I remained silent, we may have
averted this.

You made the choice our almighty father
intended you to make.

I will see you in heaven shortly.

I die willingly for him who died so
willingly for me.

Lord, into thy hands I commend my
spirit.

I hear

the

voice of God.

He curses your family, your father, your
sister, your...

was finally told Savonarola to stop.

Let no one claim his ashes.

Dump them into the river Arno.

How fares Alfonso?

He sleeps.

And his wife?

Gonza Ferrara.

You quiver like a blade of grass.

I do not... I do not want

to marry Henry Tudor.

He's three years old.

I cannot wed a child, not when my own
baby is missing.

I will marry any man you deem worthy,
but I beg of you, let him be a man.

An Italian.

A brave ancestor of the Pazzi family
returned from the First Crusade with a

stone from the Holy Seventh.

The custom here in Florence is to
extinguish every fire in the city on

Holy Saturday.

Come Easter, during Midnight Mass, a
leading citizen strikes a light from

that stone and rekindles the Columbina.

Then the people rekindle their hearts
from the flame it provides.

This year the Signory has chosen me to
strike the first spot.

I do so humbly.

Pax vobiscum.

The peace of God no longer interests me.