The Borgias

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

The apothecary prepared this liniment, my lord.

He mentioned it might hurt,

but said the pain was worth enduring.

- Count again? - Yes, my lord.

Otherwise the wound might fester.

One...

- One... - Two...

- Two... - : Three... four...

And we are done,

my good Lord Sforza.

Damn horse. A viper must have startled him.

But we must count our blessings, my lord.

You may be some months in this little room.

At least your leg has been saved.

You have been kind to me, Lucrezia Borgia.

And it may be that... I was not,

in the first instance...

kind to you.

Please my lord, do not think-

I see now that nobility

springs from the soul...

not from the blood.

I forgive you the accident of your family name.

I must... accept your forgiveness, then,

my lord, for the...

accident of my Borgia blood.

And I would, as a mark of thanks for your care,

these past few days, lend you my horse.

Your horse?

He is the very devil when he's not being ridden.

I will gladly ride him out, my lord.

King Ferrante of Naples sends his humble regards.

King Ferrante of Naples can neither hear nor see, I believe?

Son.

He nevertheless sends his every good wish.

And in the face of all of the spurious claims upon his kingdom-

from Spain, from France from the Duchy of Milan-

he would remind Your Holiness of the justice

of the independent claims of Naples.

An independent Naples

can only be to Rome's benefit.

And I, as his ambassador, am proud to present the suit,

for your consideration, of his last unmarried daughter,

Sancia,

Duchessa of Squillace.

Where is Squillace?

In the Kingdom of Naples.

My younger brother Joffre is all of 13 years old.

His Highness had understood the prospective groom to be

the Gonfaloniere himself, the Duke of Gandia.

Me?

Well, this is most irregular.

I would never consider marrying the illegitimate daughter

of the King of Naples-

Would you convey our thanks to our friend and ally,

King Ferrante, whose claim to independence

we fully understand, for his most generous offer?

You will have our response shortly.

My husband cannot ride.

He cannot rut.

He cannot even hunt.

Even the deer are happy.

Will I be punished for that?

Will I be whipped?

For making the deer happy?

Are you happy, my lady?

Perhaps.

- Give the horse his heed. - But no whip?

No need for whip. Kick your heels.

[Tongue clicking and horse neighing]

You thought it appropriate?

I, Juan Borgia, and the illegitimate daughter

of the King of Naples?

The Duchessa of Squillace?

Our alliance with Naples

is now of the utmost importance.

I am the Duke of Gandia.

The Gonfaloniere of the papal state.

The son of the Pope of Rome.

- Oh, Brother, we both are that. - Oh, you marry her then.

You know marriage for me is not an option.

Well, then, let it be Joffre!

Joffre still plays with his sister's dolls.

Here we have a life-size one.

Lucrezia still plays with dolls. She got married.

She did.

Are we to send all of our loved ones off to Pesaro?

To Squillace?

I will not marry the Duchessa of Squillace.

But I will ride to Naples to present my young brother's suit.

Juan...

One of us must ensure that she is a suitable bride.

Or would you prefer the honour?

I cannot. I am occupied in Rome.

Yes, so I've heard.

What have you heard?

That beneath that cardinal's skirt, there may still be a man.

Uh, uh...

- Look at you. - Me?

Like Narcissus.

In the spring waters.

Narcissus?

You don't know Narcissus?

I can neither read nor write, my Lady Lucrezia.

Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection.

In the waters of a spring.

Do not move.

It is impossible.

To fall in love with a reflection?

To kiss it.

And I thought I would never know sweetness.

It's your residence, Cardinal?

For the moment.

You are spare in your tastes, Cardinal.

There is but one ornament I need here.

May I call you something other than Cardinal?

Call me Cesare.

Cesare.

Remind me why I'm here, Cesare.

Because you want to be.

Because...

Your husband's absence makes it possible.

Because...

It is time to stop pretending.

Please. I do not trust my heart.

Oh, you must, to have come here with me.

Can you love me, Cesare Borgia?

Or is it just desires of the flesh?

I am very much afraid that it is both.

One or the other, I could deal with.

Both, and I may be lost.

Can a good thing come from a bad thing,

Paolo the groom?

Is this a good thing?

Yes. I think.

And what is the bad?

I think you know...

Paolo the groom.

I have a second name.

And I don't want to know it.

I would call you Narcissus.

Oh, my God.

You make me hope.

And I'm afraid of hope.

Hope for what?

For days like this.

In the future, with you.

If you were given them?

I beg you, do not make me hope.

He will be home in two days.

Perhaps his business will detain him.

Now, I desire a purely defensive union.

The terms of which have already been outlined by

our respective ambassadors.

And I desire the happiness of our youngest son.

And 200,000 ducats, surely.

Perhaps.

But we need this union more than we need riches.

The wolves are bearing down on the Papal States.

And... we would have a wedding...

if only to once again see our dear Lucrezia.

Yah!

Forgive me, Gonfaloniere Borgia,

if I feed my father as we converse.

He has so few pleasures left. But he does like his chicken!

What a coincidence.

Chicken is my brother Joffre's favourite.

Perhaps my sister can feed him thus.

He is all of 13 years old. Soon to be a man.

I am truly blessed then, in this union.

You are.

And your brother, Gonfaloniere,

is he illegitimate, like me?

His father has drafted a papal bull

to confer legitimacy on all his children.

And that has bearing on the matter of bastardy, does it?

We do not appreciate that term, Your Highness.

Why not? I never minded it.

I found it gave one a certain licence.

Let me just say that his rights of inheritance

are secure, under law.

If my betrothed

has anything like the vigour of his brother...

You would marry this Borgia here, would you not, dear sis?

I am your bastard sister, Alfonso.

I shall marry whomever I am told.

I am sure your brother

should grow into your stature, Gonfaloniere.

It comes with many benefits: the Borgia name, the Borgia prowess.

I am told it is considerable,

within and without the marital bed.

Most important of all, the protection of the Pope of Rome

for our poor, beleaguered kingdom of Naples.

We have enemies fast approaching, Gonfaloniere.

My father's name was once enough to terrify them.

Perhaps your father's name should do the same?

I have been entrusted with all of my father's battles.

- Are you not scared, dear sis? - I fear...

I fear, I fear.