All language subtitles for The Borgias - S02E09 - World of Wonders - HD TV.en

Previously on The Borgias...

We were attacked
from all sides.

What should have been
a glorious victory

is an ignominious defeat.

Cesare was in Florence.

Why did he not come
to warn us?

How could he have known?

How could he not
have known?

My brother, the hero.

Rumour has it Catherina
Sforza raised her skirts

and said "I can
have 10 more sons."

Lies!

Do you know what is more
poisonous than failure?

Ridicule!

Brother Bernadino.

While the pope
still has a taster,

my mission remains
in purgatory.

God forgive us all.

We hear that fires
burn in Florence

and that Savonarola
still preaches.

He says that visions are put
into his mind by angels.

Well, that could give us
cause to burn him.

Calvino Pallavicini and his
good-for-nothing brother

repose at our expense.

We would see a betrothal today!

Your brother?

It is your brother
who travels with you, yes?

Lucrezia.

Are you saying yes
to my brother?

All praise.

This wound
will not let me rest.

What is it they're smoking?

It is opium.

Come, ease your pain.

Perhaps we should
find someone else

to lead the papal forces
in your stead.

I defend this papacy;

I defend this family
with my heart.

Juan, you are in no fit state
to defend anything.

Not even yourself.

♪ The Borgias 2x09 ♪
World of Wonders
Original Air Date on June 10, 2012

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

[♪]

Make it absolutely clear
that it's not possible...

Your Holiness,
an urgent matter.

Holy Father.

What is this?

Holiness -
Just one moment.

Holy Father.

I cannot marry
your daughter.

We are the Pope of Rome

and you tell us
you cannot marry our daughter?

Why?

Holy Father.

We think we know what
you are about to say.

I wish to marry
your daughter.

What a revelation.

And is our daughter
party to this proposal?

Yes, I hope she is,
Holiness.

You hope.

Would it not have been
prudent to inquire

before you apprehended us
in this manner?

I am an honourable man,
Holiness.

I humbly beg your blessing

to marry your daughter
Lucrezia.

We think you have lost sight
of your moorings, young sir.

Your brother is
a man of means,

a first son;

he commands a vast fleet
of ships trading untold wealth.

You are a second son,
command as far as we are aware

no more than a paint brush.

Holy Father!
What is it, Cardinal?

Your taster,
Brother Bernadino.

What of him?

He is dead.

How?
Poisoned?

No, he drowned in the Tiber
whilst fishing.

Well, how did that happen?

It was an accident.

Accident?

Bodies are pulled from
the Tiber every day.

God rest his soul.

And damn yours!

And yours!

And all of you!

Thank you for your help.

Vanozza!

Vanozza!

Vanozza!

Did you know of this?
Of what?

That our daughter,
betrothed to one

gives herself
to the brother?

Lucrezia?
It's not possible.

How could she be so foolish?

With the help of those
around her, perhaps?

What advice
did you give her?

I merely said that
if she married to please you,

she may yet love
to please herself.

And you thought that wise?

I married one of your choosing
to be free to love you.

But you were not
the pope's daughter!

Rodrigo, she will
love whom she chooses.

She is a Borgia.

I hear the Pallavicini
boys have gone.

Yes, because you would marry
a pauper with a paint brush.

I would have married
Calvino Pallavicini

as you bid, dear father.

But if I had followed my heart,

I doubt I would have
married either of them.

Oh, so,
the future of this family

is in thrall to your heart?

If it is,
it needs mending.

Like my heart.

Here lie the ashes
of countless treasures.

Savonarola's Bonfire
of the Vanities.

The fire burned for days.

People added more to
keep the flames alive.

The people of Florence
had a good life.

How can this Savonarola
rob them of all this

and yet still have them
clinging to his every word?

If you can understand that,
Your Eminence,

then you will have the key
to bring down the man.

Break the spell,
break the man.

Holiness,
your security is paramount.

Therefore, until we find
a suitable recruit,

I have decided
to take on the role

of food taster myself.

Oh!
Greater love hath no man.

We will vet personally
those who you choose.

They should all be
from holy orders.

Pure in spirit.

But now, Cardinal,
your attention, please.

We will hold a ritual
in the basilica.

Preparations should be made
in the next two days.

An anathema.
An excommunication.

Friar Savonarola.

We have charged
Cardinal Borgia

to silence him,

to accuse him of heresy
in full view

of the entire
populace of Florence.

Whereas here in Rome,

from the throne
of St. Peter's,

we will condemn his soul
to the fires of Hell.

These people trust their fates,

their fortunes,
to the power of spells.

Come.

Savonarola understands

that what haunts
a man's mind in the night

is what rules him.

He trades in the fear of hell.

Untie me!

Untie me!

I tell you!

Please!

I've done nothing!

Here is a different
kind of bonfire.

Damn you all!

God will punish you!

What is her crime?

She is a witch!

People believe she has the
power to cast them into Hell.

Fear.

Fear of damnation

and the hope for a better
life in the next world.

That is what
Savonarola promises.

He trades in miracles.

Show him to be wrong,
the man will burn...

...just like the witch.

Damn you!

Damn your soul!

God will punish you!

Burn, you witch!

No!

God will punish you!

Heathen!
Heathen!

Black-hearted vixen!

Glorify us!
Purify her!

If angels can fall
from Heaven into Hell...

...then so can we all.
Purify your soul!

The demon waits to devour us.

Then we must go
wrestle with the demon.

Burn in hell!

Protect us!

Damnation for you!

Damnation!

Are fulfilled the
sayings of Isaiah -

"They declare their sin as
Sodom, they hide it not-"

Jeremiah,

"Thou hadst a whore's forehead,

thou refusedst to be ashamed."

You defend yourselves to
your soul's damnation!

Girolamo Savonarola,

I am Cardinal Cesare Borgia

and I come bearing the
authority of His Holiness,

Alexander the Sixth,
Pope of Rome!

Here is the Pope's messenger,
his bastard son!

One of many, we hear,
fathered across the nation.

Brother Savonarola,

you stand accused
of defying papal orders

to cease your
heretical preaching

and of refusing to
present yourself in Rome

to bend your knee
to our Holy Father.

I recognize
no such power!

My authority comes
from a higher being

than your godless pope
in Rome!

Then we must put it
to the test.

A trial by fire.

The whole of Florence
can be judge and jury!

I challenge you,
here in this temple of God.

As Christ, our Saviour,
walked on water,

if you can walk through fire,
untouched,

then I will follow you
into the flames.

God will protect you, Father!

Show us, Father!

Children.

God speaks to me.

I am not afraid.

I will...

...walk through the fire.

And, he, he that follows me
will burn.

Do you remember
the old days?

Do you?

We were friends.

We did everything together.

Now look what pain
you cause me.

Have I betrayed you or
have you betrayed me, eh?

Answer me, you bastard.

As usual, ah!

You have nothing to say -

...but still
you rule my life.

Wherefore in the
name of God, the All-powerful,

Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost,

of Blessed Peter,
Prince of the Apostles,

and of all the saints,

in virtue of the power
which has been given us

of binding and loosing
in Heaven and on earth.

May God be my witness!
We believe in you!

I testify that Alexander
Sextus of Rome

is no pope!

He is no Christian!

And believes in no God!

I will walk through this fire
to show I speak God's truth!

We deprive the Friar,

Girolamo Savonarola,
himself,

and all his abettors

of the communions

of the body and
blood of our Lord.

We separate him from
the society of all Christians,

we exclude him from the bosom
of our Holy Mother, the Church

in Heaven
and on earth...

We declare him excommunicated

and anathematized,

and we judge him
condemned to eternal fire

with Satan and his angels
and all those damned,

so long as he will not burst
the fetters of the demon,

do penance,
and satisfy the Church.

Ah! Ah!

We deliver him to Satan
to mortify his body,

Burn.

that his soul may be saved

on the day of judgment.

Fiat, fiat.

Fiat!

He burns!

Betrayer!

We gave everything for you!

Get him.
Give him to us!

Take him to Rome.

You will
present yourself to the pope

as a Franciscan.

You will be asked why you
would accept such a task.

And what is your answer?

Because
I would gladly die

in the service
of the Pope of Rome.

And you will mean
every word you say.

I will, Father.

If hired,
you will bide your time.

You will choose your moment.

You may have one chance
and one chance only

to deliver a fatal dose.

Fatal for both of us.

May God be with you.

There is something
I'd like to say.

It's long been my suspicion
that my brother...

...has congress
with my angelic sister.

The issue of such a union

would produce a demon
to devour the world.

And me.

No one is listening.

No one is listening.

What's the matter with him?

Has he been drinking?
Get up!

Take him to our apartments.

Let him sleep it off.

Ah!

Father.
Father...

Take your hands off me!
The friar, Savonarola,

he's been disgraced.

The people of Florence celebrate.
Ah!

We greet this good
news with caution.

Has he confessed?
He will.

He is being hauled
to Rome as we speak.

Oh, so all is not yet won.

Father, when the rack embraces
him, he will confess.

But he must
be seen to be guilty,

hence the need for
his confession.

The people must understand

that no one is at liberty to
impugn the office of the papacy.

No one!

And he must sign
his confession and then...

And then we will
put him to the fire.

A public spectacle.

And no relics must remain.

Holiness, I have examined
the applicants

for the post of food taster
and reduced them to three.

A trinity, good.
Come observe.

Rise.

A Cistercian.

We are aware.

Show us your hands.

You would save us
from poison,

but poison us
with grime.

We till the soil,
Holy Father.

As the apostle James.

Hands.
A Dominican.

Yes, Holy Father.

We are acquainted with
your brethren in Florence.

Show us your hands.

Why do you desire
to serve us?

I will gladly die to preserve
the life of His Holiness,

secure in the knowledge
that the Lord Jesus Christ

stands behind me and
His light shines through me.

What is your name?

Antonello.

Antonello.

You are a Franciscan,
young martyr?

Yes, Father...

Holiness.

Our confessor
was a Franciscan.

We are fasting.

Are you prepared for
a diet of sardines?

As his Holiness eats,
so shall I.

Then prepare to starve
in our service.

Give the other two a meal.

Send them on their way.

The man is a bear,
Eminence.

Brand him, gouge him,
stretch him to the limit.

Believe me,
this man will not break.

He must be seen to be guilty.

He must confess.

Welcome to Rome.

Reflect,

had you forsworn your heresies,
embraced Rome,

the Holy Church would
be embracing you now.

Lies ooze from your mouth
like pus from a dead horse.

All that awaited me was
the Castel Sant'Angelo.

Well, it is all
that awaits you now.

True confession

can only be extracted
by torture;

is that not so?

That is so.

Torture is hard work
for a soft stomach.

Are you sure
you're up to it?

It is not me
who will be tortured.

Have no doubt,
you will sign your confession.

By then you will be
an old man.

Lent is over.

Our 40 days in the wilderness
have passed.

We have deemed it God's will
that we continue our fast.

But Your Holiness.
The bells ring.

Christ the Redeemer is risen.

Surely, Easter
is a time

for celebration.

You may eat,
Cardinal Piccolomini.

But the Pope of Rome
will abstain.

Alone, if needs be,

until God smiles upon
St. Peter's once more.

Sardines, if you please.

No, no, no wine.
We just drink water.

My preference is to eat
sardines, Your Holiness.

Oh, we welcome your company,
Cardinal Versucci.

The water is pure,
Your Holiness.

Hm.

So we shall drink water.

And water alone.

Benedictus, Benedicat per
Christum Dominum Nostrum.

Amen.

Are you an assassin?

No, I am Thisbe,
come to whisper my love.

Would you have us
be your Pyramus?

That story ended tragically:
he fell upon his sword.

No, but I would still whisper
my love into your ear.

Oh.

This abstinence
grows tiresome.

We've spent so long
in the wilderness.

Why do you persist
in punishing yourself

when your labours bear fruit?

It is God that punishes,
not we ourselves.

Yes, but God has given his
blessing to your work.

A bathhouse has been restored.

An orphanage will
bear your name.

The poor of Rome have bread.

Your papacy is a blessing
to all.

You are doing God's will.

Is that not sign enough?

Yes.

Maybe you're right.

We've been thinking
too much of ourself.

There's one other blessing
you must confer.

There is?

Lucrezia's son.

Your grandson, Giovanni.

He needs the holy sacraments
of baptism.

Giovanni, yes, of course.

His welfare is our duty,

both in this world
and the next.

We would not have that angel
condemned to purgatory.

Nor this angel.

Ahhh!

Are you spying?

We are rejoicing at
such a beauteous sight.

The pope rejoices
once more?

We have been in
the wilderness, my love.

For our sins.

But it would be a sin

to condemn little Giovanni
to that wilderness as well.

Do you mean-
We would see him baptized.

Ah.
It is long past the time.

Hey, sh, sh, sh.
He shall be named

and blessed in the eyes
of God for all to see.

It is my prayer.

And we shall have festivities

worthy of such a beautiful
Madonna and child.

And Cesare must
be the godfather.

Yes.

Yes.

Sh-sh-sh-sh...

Giovanni ego te baptizo

in nomine Patris,

et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.

Amen.
Amen.

Why wait so long
to bless this bastard, eh?

Bastard yourself,
Juan Borgia.

Thanks to you,
holy mother.

Take care not to
stand too close.

God knows what might
rub off on you.

God knows why
you're even here.

My father discarded
you long ago.

What happened to you,
Juan?

You were such
a lovely child.

A drink, if you please,
Little Brother.

Water, of course,
Holy Father?

No, no, no, wine.
We would have wine.

Take care; we would not
have you spill the wine.

It comes from our vineyards
in Spain, Valencia.

Too precious to spill.
Taste it; you will see.

I only know, Holy Father,
that it is wine.

Drink a little more.

Let's see your eyes.

Ah, not a trace of red.

Pour.

We are done
with fasting.

We would celebrate the baptism
of our grandson

with an abundance of wine.

Father.
Ah, Lucrezia.

I would toast you

and our grandson
Giovanni.

He is tired, Nurse.

Father, I have a gift for you.
What?

For me?
A dance.

Nice.
Angels and Virgins.

Oh.

[♪]

[♪]

[♪]

Angels.

No, flesh and blood,
Brother, as you well know.

Don't pretend
that nothing stirs

beneath that Cardinal's
skirt of yours.

Tell me, is it true what people
are chanting and singing,

as our father said?

"Ten more sons"?

Would you start
another brawl with me?

And spoil the idyll of
this beautiful dance?

Never.

It was a foolish insult.

It cost her son his life.

Why do you shake your head?

Because it's not true.
Her son lives.

He can't have lived.
I saw him hang.

What you did not see
is Don Hernando de Caballos

saved him and brought
him here to Rome.

So where is he now?

Back at Forli.
With his mother.

So why bring him to Rome?

He had an audience.
With his Holiness, the Pope.

I see your purpose here,
your pathetic, fervent hope.

You want to inhabit my shoes.

Wear my armour.
Carry my sword.

But what you don't realize
is that I am the prodigal son.

And our father is never wrong.

I am the light of his life!

You must resign yourself,
Cesare.

For you will end your life
in a clerical skirt.

Brava! Brava!

Sister...

So, finally,
the bastard has a name,

blessed by our Holy Father,
and saved from damnation.

And you, dear brother, will
you be saved from damnation?

The angels smile on me.

Please don't.

One day you'll realize

that everything I've done
has been for your own good.

If you had tried to marry
that waster from Genova,

the one with
the paint brush...

I would have taken
good care of him.

For the good of the family,
no doubt.

Always.

Like you took care of Paolo?

A stable boy.

For the good of the family.

Exactly so.

Everything I do
is for the family.

Were it not for our father's
affection of your bastard son,

I'd have tossed that piglet
into the Tiber at birth.

That's the only
baptism it deserves.

We are all bastards.

You, me, our brothers.

We are all bastards.
Yes...

Perhaps.

But we are Borgia bastards.

And there, dear Sis,
lies the difference.

Hello, little piggy,

time for a little dance,
I think.

Leave my baby!

Juan, leave my baby alone!

No! No! No!

Leave my baby alone!

Sh, sh, sh.

The Pope of Rome!
Can you believe it?

Can you imagine!

Here, take my hand.

Poison.

Tell me about poison.

It kills with no hope
of reprieve.

I would happily kill tonight.

And break your father's heart?

Would that be the consequence?

Indeed.

He loves his errant son,
does he not?

More than he loves
his dutiful one.

Well, then, love is blind.

Blind and deaf and dumb.

No killing then.

Hearts may yet be broken.

But not yours.

Ten more sons!

♪ Ten more, ten more,
ten more sons! ♪

Forgive us, my lord.
Sorry.

Sorry.

Father, we must discuss
our brother.

He is hurtling towards ruin.

And he will drag this
whole family with him.

You loved him once.
You must love him again.

Must I?

Will love make him
a better man?

Help him...

...through
his dark night.

Don't let envy rule your heart.

So I am my brother's keeper?
Yes.

He needs you.

As counsel, as support...

...as cardinal.

He needs you.

Come on, say it again.
"Ten more sons."

Ten-ten more sons!
And again!

Ten-ten more...
Say it!

You think...

...this is wise, my lord?

Where would you put the body?

Take your hand off me
or you're a dead man.

You press -

You press in the wrong spot,
my lord.

You press here.

She is dead in a moment.

You'll suffer for this.

[♪]

My lord.

Let me help you.

[♪]

[♪]

[♪]

Evening, my friend.

Tell me, do you have
a man named Juan

visiting your home
this night?

I would consider your
answer carefully.

Yes, he is here.

Tell him his brother
would speak with him.

Nothing to fear.

[♪]

[♪]

Brother.

Have you come to beg
forgiveness for your insult?

I have.

You are already forgiven.

Imagine that you are sitting
on the edge of a vast well,

your feet dangling
over the edge.

Moving slowly around the walls
of the well, like smoke,

there's a world of
wonders reaching down,

as far down as the eye can see.

These wonders are your life.

I glimpse us, Cesare,

two brothers in harmony,
walking together.

All these visions
are the work of tears.

Tears of blood.

No.

Tears of the poppy.

Everything is there
for you to see.

Birth.

And, of course, your death.

But the miracle is
that there's no pain.

I have been in pain,
Cesare, for all my years.

And you-
you are in pain, Brother.

I can feel it.

Yes.
I am in pain.

You would end your pain?

Yes.

And I would end yours.

Ah!

My brother!

What is this?

Only God forgives.

Ah!

We're Borgias!
We never forgive.

Ahh!

I stand in awe, your Eminence.

You killed your father.

Still, I stand in awe.

[♪]

== sync, corrected by elderman ==