Original subtitles

Previously on The Borgias...

The Jews, from Constantinople. More of them come every day.

You were driven out by the Turks.

We offer you a home, a place to prosper.

And, in return?

So, the King of Naples died. - Most horribly.

There are several claimants, I've heard. Is your Alfonzo among them?

There are two in line, in front of him.

Your Highness. - The last French invasion ended in disaster.

Maybe if the next was under Italian leadership...

King Louis of France invades our shores without our permission?

He has our permission. - You would bring an army into our land?

I would eliminate the Sforza dynasty.

Ludovico, first.

What is this? - A message from Lady Caterina Sforza, treating for peace.

This is a bluff. - Burn it.

Caterina Sforza has no more interest in suing for peace than I do.

Are you sick? What's the matter?

Plague.

This king desires more than Naples.

He has an equal fondness for Milan.

My Lord Sforza. - My mother was right.

Come tomorrow's dawn, there will be rivers of blood.

The gates are open, my Lord.

The city looks unguarded.

Welcome to Milan.

Where is Ludovico Sforza? - Gone.

You have Milan, my Lord. - No, the French have Milan.

Ludovico Sforza lives to fight another day.

Damn him.

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How do you know this place? - I know Milan very well.

I know a boy, who knows a boy whom Leonardo painted.

You understand me?

Who is this boy you spoke of?

We call him "Il Saliano".

The Little Devil.

Yes. He's that, and more.

But, Leonardo loves him dearly.

Leonardo loves them all.

The more he steals from him,

the more he lies to him, the more Leonardo loves him.

Why? - Why?

That's why.

The King of France, my lord.

Your Highness.

So. Ludovico is alive.

His army is intact.

His army is no longer what I call an army.

It's scattered. - You promised me Milan.

And, while the Duke Ludovico is alive, he has a claim to it.

I will hunt him down.

Excellent. Do that.

And, when you've captured him,

tell your father, the Pope, I hold this city in his name.

His. Not mine.

But, you share the same name.

What is that thing?

A bird.

A mechanical bird.

Can it fly?

Perhaps some day it will.

For what purpose?

No purpose. Maestro likes to dream.

So tell me, where does this lead us?

Us?

Nowhere.

Where does this affection go?

There was no affection.

Affection leads to weakness.

And I have no use for either.

What is this?

An arquebus.

Arquebus.

So, he's an artist and a condottiere.

No. He designed the sight.

It has two notches.

Here, and here.

You line them up with the eye.

Clever.

Your son hopes to capture Milan.

Is he not your son, too?

Sometimes, We wonder.

I do not.

And I should know.

Giulia Farnese has captured a suitor.

Oh, must you?

I must, because she asked me.

She wants to present him to you.

For Our approval.

For your blessing.

What's his name, this suitor?

Vincenzo.

Terrible name.

Can we be happy, now?

Like any family?

This is not just "any" family.

Things have been difficult between us,

but I wanted to thank you for your kindness.

For your patience.

Kindness ever satisfy a Borgia?

All I ever wanted, was to be loved by a prince like you.

You could be king, one day.

Never.

Don't you see, my love,

it is the only way we can ensure our safety,

as a family, with my beloved child.

If you rule this kingdom.

I'm the Duke of Bisceglie,

which means I'm third in line

to the throne of Naples and I have two cousins,

who would fight to the death for that very same throne.

Prince Frederico and Prince Rafael.

And I have no interest in that kind of power.

But you must,

if you want to ensure your survival.

Our survival.

Well, I must.

My Lord.

Cardinal Costanzo requests you posthaste.

Before I have changed and bathed? - He is in, in his palace.

He made mention of the letter.

The letter? - From Caterina Sforza.

Make way.

Where is the Cardinal?

Within.

Show me, then. - See for yourself.

My Lord, wait.

Wear this.

Over your mouth.

Alessandro.

Alessandro.

Alessandro.

Do you recognize that?

I commanded you burn it.

And the letter inside it.

But, I didn't.

Now you must burn this palace,

with me inside it.

And forgive me, for my disobedience.

Why must you burn for disobedience?

There was a plague-infested hankerchief, in the box

that contained her overtures of peace.

Oh, my God.

There are quicker deaths, than burning.

Then, throw me a blade,

and burn all that remains.

Make way for His Holiness.

Is this how you announce your return to Rome?

There was a plot, Holy Father.

A plague letter, designed for your Person.

Costanzo's curiosity got the better of him.

So you burn down his palace?

Better his palace, than the whole quarter.

Where is Costanzo now?

Burning, inside.

Your sacred Person is healthy still.

Caterina Sforza? - Who else?

Walk with Us.

What do We need to know of this matter?

As little as possible.

But a letter was sent.

A false overture of peace. I ordered it burnt.

And the King of France is in possession of Milan.

Was that to be kept from Us, as well?

I wanted to tell you in person.

And Ludovico Sforza is still at large.

Ah. You have heard.

We do not live entirely in the dark, Cesare.

He is in hiding, with Caterina's son, Benito.

whom, it seems, he is willing to hand over to us,

in exchange for a pledg of his own safe passage.

Where is he now?

That is not for us to know.

Ask your friend, signor Machiavelli.

It was him, who delivered Ludovico's letter to us.

Do I have your permission to...

To deliver our pledge into the hands of Ludovico Sforza?

To lay hands on the pair of them?

And to bring them, in chains, to Us, in Rome?

You do.

You know Constantinople, don't you?

Intimately.

Judea will be captured, returned to Rome.

By some miracle, perhaps.

Ah. Well, we don't trade in miracles.

We're amassing funds, for a great crusade.

But we fear, they could be needed closer to hand.

May I enquire why, Holiness?

The French have taken Milan.

Wait, your son had taken Milan.

Is there a difference?

Rome needs arms.

And funds for our Constantinople endeavor

could have provided them.

We can't leave her undefended.

If I may be so bold to suggest, Holiness.

The main threat from the Turks, is to shipping.

If the entire Turkish fleet can be disposed of,

would not his Holiness' Crusade have served its purpose?

How would we achieve that?

If the Pope is lacking funds,

perhaps the tribe of Abraham could do it for him.

Again, how?

There are Jews in every port on the Turkish coastline.

There may be a way,

if the Jews in Rome could be assured of His Holiness' favor.

Do you think he has caught us?

He has caught the office. Catching the man is more elusive.

And the knight moves thus.

Yes. So I imagine you knew that already.

No, my lord. I am a novice to the game of...

What was it called, again? - You fool on there.

No, chess.

Oh, my lord. Now, that was unkind.

It was meant to be. The game is cruelty personified.

Or, rather, strategy personified, my lord Rafael.

You are beautiful, Lucrezia Borgia.

But even I, a simple Neopolitan prince,

can tell that your beauty hides a design.

Why did you wish to meet with me?

To learn the game, of course.

The game of chess or the game of inheritance?

There is a difference?

In both, the rules are fixed and have been for centuries.

And the room for manoeuvre is limited.

A king dies, and the game begins again.

So, the players are...?

My half-brother, Frederico, and I.

There can only be one winner.

You. - That is how I intend it.

And that bastard child shall find no more favor in me,

than it did with my uncle, the King.

No?

You will be returned to Rome. Or to a stable.

You can choose which.

I will ensure all the traditional proprieties are upheld.

And Lucrezia Borgia

shall have as little influence on the court of Naples,

As your queen on this board.

So, I have a king, and two bishops. And a knight.

Is there a place for a pope in this game?

There is no pope in the game of chess.

But the game of succession has a pope.

Surely.

You.

Who are you?

You followed me here?

Surely, it is you who followed me, sir.

To Rome?

I have a friend here, who paid for my journey.

You, gentle sir, have followed me.

I'm not gentle.

I remember.

Follow.

You will tell no one of this place.

You do not ask where I go or where I've been.

If you do not see me for a week or more, then you will wait,

then you will wait.

And if you cannot,

then all this

comes to naught,

and you will leave.

And you will leave in silence.

And that silence, you will carry to your grave.

But if you break that silence,

I will find you.

And believe me boy,

that you do not want.

She writes to me.

Tells me her every move is watched.

She should wear a veil, then.

Why?

To hide her true feelings.

She loves this husband, Cesare.

She chose him.

Is it only me he disappoints?

You are too harsh.

When I pleaded her son's case to the king,

her husband just sat there beside me, saying nothing.

Naples is not Rome.

No? And Naples may soon not even be Naples.

A French presence there would see that they did our bidding.

A French presence there would end her marriage for good.

She hopes to wield some influence, Cesare.

On the next heir to the throne.

Just how will she manage that? - From your father.

Investiture of the crown till lies with the Pope, does it not?

Not the choice of who wears it.

What power has a crown, without papal investiture?

Clever girl.

If I were to die and my half-brother were to die,

your husband would take the throne.

Well that's a lot of dying.

Death happens all the time, here.

By accident. Look at my uncle.

That was a horrible accident. Who could have thought?

His father, actually.

He had that pool stocked, for that very purpose.

Naples terrifies me.

It has terrified me ever since I learned to walk.

Little Sebastian here,

I have to feed him from my own plate.

Lest my half-brother try and poison him.

Why would he do that?

Any number of reasons.

For sport, to frighten me, or...

merely to show me he can eliminate what's dear to me,

at will.

I know your plight, Lucrezia Borgia.

I even pleaded with King Ferdinand, to let your child live here.

But my words meant little then,

and will mean even less, when my brother takes the crown.

Must your brother take the crown?

Unless he dies.

Believe me, I'm no murderer.

But the Pope must invest the new-crowned King of Naples.

What of it?

If there is any scandal, any rumor

of public ignominy, the Pope may refuse.

My brother has a heart of ice,

But only I know that heart.

The world knows a paragon of manliness, duty and virtue.

We all have our secrets. - Indeed.

I will be gone. Perhaps days, perhaps weeks. - Where are you going?

I told you, never ask that question.

Now you stay ignorant, you stay alive, boy.

Days, weeks, what am I to do?

Enjoy the delights of Rome. There is wine in that jar.

Hang around Bramante's studio. Maybe you'll catch his eye. No?

If you are here when I return,

I would like that.

There is a quarry, north of here.

It is arranged the exchange will happen there.

And Ludovico will deliver the boy, have no doubt.

Guide us there, signor Machiavelli. Then absent yourself.

There are... complications in the air?

No. The outcome will be simplicity itself.

But I would recommend you keep your hands clean.

What is this place? - A disused quarry.

Here, we will meet with forces loyal to the Sforza family,

who will escort you home, to mother.

Have no fear.

Sebastian.

Oh, God.

He did have secrets, poisonous ones.

Poison? What poison? Would it be cantarella? I know something of it.

The dog ate from my plate. - Forget the dog.

Guards. Anybody. Quickly.

There are two sights, and a double notch.

This your invention?

I wish I could claim so, but no.

Leonardo's. My lord, my lord.

It's empty. There is no one here, Ludovico.

Well, Benito, it seems we are the first to arrive.

You must be patient, and wait.

Half of Italy wants our heads and you're asking me to be patient.

What happened? - Poison. Cantarella.

Who did it?

Does it matter now? Go and get a physician, love. Quickly.

So you align one sight with the other?

And the sights with your target, my lord.

Water. Water. I need water.

This is the Roman cure? - It is the only cure.

I said "capture". Not kill.

It was agreed.

There was no mention of killing.

That dog will bite no more.

Your cure is useless. My lady, he cannot breathe.

But if this is cantarella, I've done this before.

It's not cantarella, it's galerina.

A poisonous mushroom.

He's dying of lack of breath. His whole throat is swollen.

What of our agreement?

I am guaranteed safe passage. Now. I will have it now.

I trusted you. You barbarian.

Ludovico.

There.

I thank you.

He breathes.

We must hold his throat like this for two hours, until the swelling subsides.

You.

I accuse you of the murder of your brother.

How could I have killed that, which is not yet dead?

Of the poisoning of the only barrier that lies between you and the throne of Naples.

An enterprise at which I failed miserably.

Choke him on his own bile. I'd like to see that.

Be still, cousin.

Hold him still.

What are you doing here?

Checking on my lady's investments.

We all need vermin, like you to search out secrets,

communicate anything that cannot be held in a diplomatic pouch.

You should leave. Now. He could return.

He's in the north, I heard. Far from here.

Doing what?

Are you not being paid good coin to find that out?

I have to tread carefully with him. I have to earn his affection.

The long game.

That will last only as long as his love lasts.

Well, then, there is time. Even for vermin like me.

Is it possible? Have you fallen for him?

I'm in the Devil's bed, Rufio.

Have you ever been embraced by the Devil?

Have you ever felt his touch, have you ever dared to touch him?

I doubt it.

Yes, that's love.

It doesn't smell good.

What a dingy place for it.

But, then, certain love thrives best in the gutter.

I see. You come here to pass judgment.

No, I came to inhale this odor.

He is my double, here in Rome.

We will meet one day, he and I.

Stick to him.

Sooner or later, he will tell you everything.

Nothing is too small.

Remember the book?

Catullus' Carmina.

Good boy.

Would you play more chess, my lord?

I would be alone.

I can understand why.

You failed.

How did I fail?

It's foolish, to attempt murder and to fail.

Better to succeed, I am sure.

If you embark upon that course, yes, much better.

My brother has always been histrionic.

As a child, he accused me of drowning his pet newt.

Did you?

How does one drown a newt?

There will be consequences.

And you, the Pope's bastard, will be the judge of that?

The Pope has in his gift the investiture of the Kingdom of Naples.

How could he, in all conscience, place a murderer on the throne?

You lack evidence, madam.

I intend to find it.

You are on dangerous ground, my lady.

Yes, I can see that. You have your fingers against my throat.

Failed again.

I was given word that some great lady needs a potion.

A love potion? Your husband sleeps between the sheets?

I know you.

What if my needs were more lethal?

I only deal in cures.

I heard a different story. - I can't understand your words.

You provided certain potions to a certain party. - I still don't understand you.

Do they burn witches in these parts?

I am no witch, my lady. I tend the forest, I gather its fruits.

And sell them to whoever has need of them, for good or for ill.

But, the truth might yet save you.

The truth?

You gave the galerina mushroom. - I gave no galerina.

I gave a dried powder, mixed with juniper.

To whom?

Pay me first.

To Prince Rafael.

I asked you to meet with me.

To play the game again? - We could do that, too.

I asked you to meet with me,

to suggest that there might be two options available to you.

One, you pursue your quest for the crown,

for the Pope's blessing,

and you will be accused of the attempted murder of your half-brother.

I repeat, my brother lies.

He has evidence. - And I've heard of your evidence:

an old crone from the forest. She should be burned, as a witch.

Well, who knows? Perhaps, one day, she will be.

What did she say?

That she gave you

a mixture of dried galerina and juniper berries.

Someone primed her to say that.

Find out who put the words in her mouth.

Well, who then?

You, perhaps. YOur reputation does precede you.

Your second choice

is to hand the field over to your brother, whom the Pope will happily invest.

And retire to your hunting lodges, with your reputation intact.

Thank you, nurse.

Hunting is a good life

I have a third, you know?

What's that? - I could poison the both of you.

All of you.

And succeed, this time?

I'll take the second choice.

If only to see you realize the folly of your strategem.

You will lose. You will lose most horribly.

He's very young. Will he be faithful?

One hopes. - Raise.

His palace has fountains,

a belvedere, extensive hunting grounds.

He hunts. Not a good thing in a husband.

You hunted. - Rarely. And only with you.

I will hunt with him, then.

Well, let's get it over with.

Dearest.

Holiness.

May I present to you, Vincenzo Salvatore.

Your Holiness.

Your hands.

My hands? - Yes, let me touch your hands.

Soft. Never worked with land.

They toil with the feathered quill, your Holiness.

They plow with that.

Is he deranged?

No, Your Holiness. He's a poet.

Poet.

So deranged.

He may be another Petrarca, Holiness.

Yes.

Can you make her laugh?

Well... Marry him if you will.

Our son, come closer.

What of Our command in regard to Ludovico Sforza?

I executed it. He is no more.

That was not our command.

You were to bring him to Rome in chains.

What purchase can we get with a dead Sforza?

Two dead Sforzas.

Are you to be the one who decide Rome's future,

Father... - Who shapes our fate,

who dictates our strategies?

Why in God's name did you kill them?

Because the French king demanded it.

What of Our wishes?

Who are We to trust, if not Our family?

Whom are we to rely on? - You can trust me, Father.

We can? Why?

Because you have no alternative.

You are wonderful people.

Thank you.

So we are safe now? - As long as this king lives

Yes, we are safe.

I'm Caterina Sforza's eyes and ears in this nest of vipers.

And I would beg you, my liege,

to make no hasty moves, until my exit is secured.

Brin gme my copy of Catullus. Carmina.

Yes, your Majesty.

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