Bride of Vengeance (1949) Movie Script
- Charming, Gino, charming.
- My Lord Duke.
Well, what duties
have I left undone as usual?
- My Lord Duke...
- Give my good Gino 10 florins.
Silver, I trust?
I have a reputation for
extravagance to maintain. Gold!
Proceed.
My Lord Duke,
Cesare Borgia has invited you to Rome.
His invitation is still unanswered!
- But, My Lord Duke, the Borgia!
- Ignore the Borgia.
Ignore?
But, Duke, how can we ignore the man
who wants to conquer the world?
Already his troops have overrun Imola,
Forli, and Pesaro.
Cesare Borgia menaces every one
of the 32 independent states in Italy.
- My Lord...
- Count Peruzzi?
May I speak bluntly?
My dear old friend,
as bluntly as you please.
I can no longer keep silent.
Believe me, I mean no disrespect.
But for these many months past,
you have been a changed man.
In our hour of great peril,
with Cesare Borgia on the march,
you've become frivolous,
indolent and neglectful of your duties.
You dawdle away your hours in a locked
and guarded foundry casting a statue.
You spend money on this effigy
that might better be spent
to strengthen our defenses.
It's a statue of the god, Jupiter.
A present from me to the city.
And I'm shocked
at Ferrara's ingratitude, and deeply hurt.
I'm sorry you think so little of me,
my old friend.
It is not I who think little of you, My Lord,
but Cesare Borgia.
The bull will first
trample upon the weak.
Why else would he insolently summon
you to Rome to appear before him
as one summons a servant?
Peruzzi, what are you saying?
My Lord, the summons was not insolent,
it was most gracious.
And graciousness
compels you to accept!
- So, you want me to go to Rome?
- Your acceptance is long overdue.
And let the bull
sweeten my wine with arsenic?
Even the bull would not murder a guest.
Well, they say
he murdered his own brother.
It was never proven, My Lord.
- Merely a family quarrel, I suppose.
- Yes, My Lord.
Perhaps you're right.
It may be only
that the bull desires my company.
But I must confess, I have long waited
to look upon his sister, Lucretia.
They tell me she's a lily,
a veritable tiger lily.
A lily whose petals drip poison.
But messieur Filippo is
the connoisseur of antidotes.
Snake bites, tarantulas, hemlock.
I've cures for them all.
But I confess, I long to test my skill
against Borgia venoms.
Then you'll accept his invitation?
Never! Magnificence, I beg of you,
be your father's son.
The bull will make war on us
when and if it suits his convenience.
We cannot stay him with appeasement.
If we must die, let it not be
groveling at this tyrant's feet in Rome.
Let us die standing here,
in Ferrara, like men.
In the gallery! Guard the doors!
- Men of arms, to the gallery!
- Seal off the entrances!
Watch the stairs!
The horns of the bull are long.
The assassin is still at large, My Lord.
Continue the search
with all available men.
Yes, magnificence.
We leave at once, Filippo.
Whatever the bull's intention,
it'll be easier to discover it
face to face with him in Rome.
- Easier, My Lord, but more dangerous.
- Dangerous?
The Duke of Ferrara,
who has lately become notorious
as the greatest fool in all Italy?
An excellent disguise, My Lord.
Trust me, I shall wear it with a flourish.
Mercy, My Lord Cesare, mercy!
Let him go free.
But he must, of course,
leave pledges with us
to ensure that he no longer
slanders Madonna Lucretia.
- And those will be?
- His tongue and his right hand.
Do I please you, my brother?
You were always
at your best in my colors.
- Gemma.
- Yes, Excellency.
My black pearls.
And hurry, death is getting impatient.
- Yes, Your Excellency.
- Well, that's my dog, Fury, not Death.
- Death?
- My pearls against your chain it's Fury.
Hold that dog. Quiet there!
Take your pearls.
But you won.
What I win is yours, sister.
My lovely sister.
- You're very generous today.
- I like to see you happy.
I want you to have your heart's desire.
And if I desire something
you do not possess?
I would possess myself of it.
Suppose I ask for a state of my own,
a great state.
Venice, perhaps, or Milan or Florence?
Which one should I ask for, brother?
Ask for them all.
Ask for every state in Italy,
all combined in one great nation
under the banner of the bull.
- Cesare...
- Our banner.
- Can it be done?
- You believe in me?
I do. But so many states.
Many or few,
if I can deal with them one by one.
Madonna Lucretia has marvelous taste.
Where does she find
these exquisite figurines?
They find them in tombs.
They're all over the place.
They're excavating...
Is that why the Duke of Ferrara is here?
Have you spoken to him yet?
I'm letting him worry.
He doesn't look worried.
I resent this.
Here, in eternal Rome,
you stole into your gardens
and dig up statues
as if they were turnips.
Now, in Ferrara,
we have to fashion our own.
How unfortunate.
My dear Duke,
you have my deepest sympathy.
- Tell me, cousin Alfonso...
- Eleonora?
Why do you play the fool here in Rome?
Do I seem more foolish than usual,
my beautiful cousin of Mantua?
Don't fence with me, Alfonso.
I'm a D'Este, too. You're in danger here.
I brought messieur Filippo
with his antidotes,
but it's heartening to know
that I have another ally here.
You can count on me. I've made several
useful connections during my visit here.
Money opens lips as well as locks
even in the court of Cesare...
All the same, I should like
to show you my big Jupiter
when next you visit my little Ferrara.
- When do you take his little Ferrara?
- Never fight for what you can buy.
Or buy what you can get for nothing.
Shall we go?
Without the beloved
and princely Bisceglie?
Where's my husband, Gemma?
He's having
his mustache perfumed, Madonna.
And telling the barber
how he always kills the boar.
Fifty ducats he kills the boar today.
A hundred and fifty
he kills the boar today.
A thousand that I kill the boar today.
- My sweet.
- Our Cesare won't risk his money.
- Not against the best hunter in Italy.
- He's jealous of you, darling.
Everyone's jealous of me,
and with good reason.
No, no, please. Stop it.
No, no, we must leave.
You fool!
My pearls! Now I'm very angry with you!
I'll buy you 20 ropes of pearls.
I don't want them,
Cesare gave these to me.
I'll never forgive you.
Then you leave me no reason to exist!
You lunatic, you'll kill yourself!
- Am I forgiven?
- No.
- Then farewell!
- No!
It's the prince.
Lucretia, you're a wicked girl.
Someday you'll tease him so, he'll
somersault himself right into his grave.
Gemma.
- Bravo!
- Bravo!
He'll break his neck one of these days,
that Neapolitan monkey.
God forbid.
Then Madonna Lucretia
would be inconsolable.
I'd dry her eyes.
Don Michelotto, the
prince Bisceglie is my brother-in-law
and my close friend,
and I dislike your tone.
I'm a better man than that
jumping jack of Naples will ever be.
You can hardly expect me
to agree with you, my friend.
- Officially.
- The man's a centaur!
That's better, My Lord.
Now, when do we march?
My men are getting restless.
We're moving north against Venice.
Venice, why?
With Venice and Naples in my pocket,
no other state would dare withstand me.
That's all very well, but Ferrara
lies here between us and Venice.
Will they fight
if we march through their territory?
I've asked the Duke of Ferrara here
to discuss the matter with him.
I hope to persuade him
not to oppose us.
And if he won't be persuaded?
The Roman fever
is notoriously prevalent this year.
They say it is caused by
exhalations from the swamps.
And if the Duke of Ferrara should...
Whoever succeeds him may be more
inclined to discuss matters my way.
My Lord Duke, you promised me a state.
Yes, but the health of
his Highness of Ferrara comes first.
He'd risk his life...
Bravo!
Hello to Ferrara.
He's quite an acrobat,
your brother-in-law.
Forgive me
for delaying our conversation.
Conversation?
My purpose in inviting you to Rome...
You want to buy my Jupiter. I knew it!
I need your friendship, not your Jupiter.
Certainly, certainly, certainly, certainly.
And this, I must impress upon you,
is a secret.
Better not tell me. I know myself.
A glass of wine, a pretty woman,
and where's your secret?
Bravo! Bravo!
I'm moving against Venice.
But why, when Rome is so comfortable?
Therefore I need a military alliance,
permitting my troops to enter Ferrara
to set up a base of operations there.
I see.
Well, unfortunately, I'm really
not too familiar with these matters,
but I believe Ferrara already
has a military alliance with Venice.
- Break it.
- Break it?
Break it?
But my dear Duke, we are friends.
But, well, my people,
they don't know you as I do.
- And it isn't as if I had...
- Enough...
- Do you read Latin?
- Enough for a duke.
Read this, then.
Well, I should
translate that very roughly,
as "Cesare or nothing."
Translate it for the people of Ferrara.
Now, where have I heard that before.
Of course!
That was Julius' motto, your namesake,
the original Cesare,
the fellow
who wanted to conquer the world.
And how did he end up?
At the foot of a statue,
with 30 dagger holes in him.
Or was it 40?
No, 30.
So, you reject my offer?
Shall we go to the hunt now, brother?
My dear friend,
how can I discuss affairs of state
when your sister smiles on me?
Madonna,
could you pardon a thief?
What have you tried to steal, sir,
my heart?
No, still there and quite safe.
This pearl has lain against it.
That's why I stole it.
Well, if that's the reason, keep it.
Madonna, it shall lie on mine
now and forever.
- You'll need a chain.
- I wear one already.
Well, when does he catch the fever?
I think he has caught it already.
- Your Rome is a wicked city.
- More wicked than your Ferrara?
I never made love to
a royally married duchess in Ferrara.
Are you making love?
I suppose in Ferrara,
they make it at arm's length.
But in Rome, Madonna,
one does as the Romans do.
That was disturbing.
And I have no wish to be disturbed.
Golden Madonna,
you'll only break your hunting crop
on this thick skull of mine.
Keep it for the hounds, your own Fury,
your brother's Death.
Yes, the fever rages.
Michelotto, my right hand,
I have work for you.
The hunt returns!
Rogues, hurry along with your labors!
What a delightful expedition.
You'd be a better husband if
you kept your eyes on the boar
instead of the lady.
There's nothing that can't be tamed,
my lady,
except, possibly, your heart.
Descend, my goddess of the hunt.
You're very pleased with yourself,
aren't you?
- Did you kill?
- Why, naturally.
Fabulous achievement.
You, My Lord Duke, took good care
not to be in at the death.
- You were too hard on him.
- He laughed at you.
- Who cares?
- I care.
I'm Lucretia Borgia,
and you're my husband.
How dare that fool mock?
I believe, I truly believe.
- What do you believe?
- That my dear wife loves me.
Get rid of that.
Hey, Alessandro!
Alessandro!
Guards! Guards, to the stairs!
Watch for your safety, My Lord.
Hold your fire, you'll hit the prince.
- There!
- Look! There, on the landing!
- They've stabbed him!
- They're attacking the prince!
Stop them! Stop them!
Guards! Guards, to the prince!
- Lucretia...
- Here, my dear, here.
Your pardon, Madonna.
Cesare, don't let him die.
I think you may hope.
I have seen many wounded men,
and the assassins
seem to have blundered.
- Lucretia...
- Yes, my heart. Yes?
- Blunderer.
- Not my fault.
They were my best men,
but the prince fights like a wildcat.
Well, you know the proverb,
"What did not happen at dinner,
will happen at supper."
- I forbid you to touch him!
- Magnificent Madonna...
Cesare, the fool wants to
bleed him when he's half-dead
- now from loss of blood.
- There...
By all the rules of surgery...
The fellow is a skilled physician.
The fellow is a butcher.
I will nurse the prince.
I don't trust him. I don't trust anyone.
Why did you kill that man?
He should have been held for torture.
Then we should have known
who set them on.
But who could have wanted to hurt him?
He had no enemies,
he had no ambition,
except to make me happy.
Yet, some man
has paid other men to strike him down,
here, in our own house.
Your pardon, Madonna.
Forgive this intrusion,
but I could not take my leave
without learning how the prince fairs.
My husband is young and strong.
We have good hope that he will recover.
Dear Madonna,
I have with me my own physician,
Messieur Filippo Strozzi.
- May I send for him?
- Would he try to bleed the prince?
I think not. His whole art
is to keep the wounds clean
and strengthen the patient.
My lord, if your messieur Filippo
restores the prince to me,
I'm your humble,
grateful debtor, always.
Your Filippo will be still in your quarters.
I fear not.
He begged my leave to lodge
in the outskirts of Rome.
He's studying the Roman fever,
which they say is an...
An exhalation from the swamps.
Yes, but I will send for him at once.
Take this token to
messieur Filippo Strozzi,
at the Carthusian monastery.
Bid him come at once.
I leave you to give him orders,
I shall be gone.
- So, this is farewell.
- I hope not.
You must visit us in Ferrara
when the occasion serves you.
It shall serve me.
I am Filippo Strozzi,
physician to My Lord Duke of Ferrara.
Identify yourself.
My master's ring.
- Greetings, messieur Filippo.
- My Lord.
Show him the way.
The Tiber?
With so much wisdom
in that old head of his,
no, my friend, he'll serve us yet.
Merely hold him incommunicado
and well-guarded.
You may sleep in peace, Madonna.
His wounds are healing fast.
But if he should wake, messieur Filippo,
he'll need me.
I promise you that he shall not wake.
Come, Madonna, sleep.
They say the cord
was still about his neck.
- I shall see it till I die.
- Did you mark this ring?
It was clutched in your husband's hand.
He must've torn it from the
murderer's finger as they struggled.
You talk and talk.
It does not bring back the dead.
Look upon this ring, Lucretia.
A black and white eagle
on a red ground, the emblem of Ferrara.
- What colors are this?
- Red and white.
The colors of Ferrara.
Now, do you understand?
That fop, that fool.
Why would he have my husband killed?
Look into your glass, sister.
You were too kind to him, Lucretia.
And so, he dreamed, jealous dreams.
- Jealous?
- The man was besotted.
Your husband came between
you and his desires.
How long is he to live?
Have I ever failed you, sister?
Not long.
Cesare, this time, let me be part of it.
Let me be the one. Let me, Cesare!
I promise you a better vengeance
than ever a woman had in this world.
A pledge of it.
"In God's name, from the
high and mighty prince, Cesare Borgia,
"Duke of Valentino,
Don Fogliari, Duke of Romania..."
Mark me, it's a declaration of war.
"...Lord of Pesaro..."
Whatever it is, we must be wary.
True, true. Consider Cesare's reply
to our inquiry about Filippo.
Filippo never arrived. Filippo simply
disappeared, yet we know he holds him.
"Whereas it had pleased heaven
"to set our two realms
over against each other.
- "And, in as much..."
- Sir Herald, you have our thanks.
We will now ask Don Michelotto
to continue,
and to come to the point.
Most noble Lord Duke,
my master offers you
the hand and person
of the most illustrious Lady Lucretia,
Princess Bisceglie, in marriage.
Her dowry includes Spoleto,
Piave, and Cento,
with 300,000 ducats in gold.
With gems, jewelry and plate.
The marriage will take place
without delay.
We are overwhelmed.
- We must reflect.
- Reflect?
The greatest man in Italy
offers you his own gracious sister,
and you have to reflect?
By the banner of the bull,
I'll teach you to insult us!
On the contrary, Don Michelotto,
courtesy alone prevents
our replying over-hastily
to your master's magnanimous offer.
We need till tomorrow
to couch our reply
in the proper expressions
of gratitude and esteem.
- Tomorrow, then. But mark me...
- The audience is at an end.
This marriage must take place at once.
Three hundred thousand ducats.
Be advised, most illustrious Lord Duke,
let nothing deter you from
consummating this matter tomorrow.
My Lord Duke, we can't spare you now.
We have to discuss
the terms of your answer.
Discuss them among yourselves,
I'm going to the foundry.
I must know
how my Jupiter is cooling out.
I'm almost convinced
that the duke is not...
Halt, give the password.
My Jupiter.
Every cannon in the world
is a toy compared with you.
- Is it cool?
- Yes, magnificence.
It rings like La Vaca, the cathedral bell.
So did the others, then shattered.
Well, we can but hope.
- We test tonight.
- Tonight?
They must have our answer by morning.
Halt!
But this is the mayor of Ferrara.
He's been supping with me.
Duke's orders. No one is to pass.
Duke's orders, duke's orders.
The duke's...
Put in the fuse.
I'm a loyal subject, but the duke's whims
are more than I can stand.
What he needs is a wife
to keep him in bounds like other folk.
Further back, all of you!
Lie down! Cover your ears!
Now, magnificence, pray.
Pray to Saint Barbara
that we succeed tonight.
- Amen.
- Amen.
Amen.
What a pity it isn't really a statue.
The duke is raising the devil.
Torch.
- Anyone else hurt?
- No, Excellency.
So, we begin anew.
I have failed you again, sir.
- Employ someone else.
- Never.
Cheer up, my friend.
If the ancients could cast statues,
we can cast cannon.
It's only a matter of time.
And I think I can give you a little more.
I am no longer a young man.
You don't understand
what the work will cost me.
Vanetti, I'm a young man,
and I know what it'll cost me.
Think of my fate, Vanetti.
Doomed to take a wife, and so forth,
merely to give you time
to make a cannon.
Love is a...
So, fly on the wings of a kiss
Forever increasing our bounty
For blessing Of wedded bliss
- Don Borgia!
- Don, with the...
My brother-in-law, what is wrong?
The public fountains have run with wine
since dawn, my brother-in-law.
You're a great man, brother.
In you, I salute a greater one.
But here is the greater man
than either of us,
my court painter, messieur Tiziano.
You're right, Ferrara.
Why, you own the
greatest man in the world.
Frankly, if any offer could
tempt him into my service,
I should,
with the well-known Borgia treachery,
forget our relationship.
No, no. You may not have him.
He's to immortalize my new duchess.
My Lord Duke,
I have now seen your duchess.
- I dare not.
- Dare not?
Madonna's face is still a velvet mask.
I could paint its texture,
its red and white,
the subtle tender curves,
but Madonna herself still hides
behind the mask of her own beauty.
And so, the poor painter must wait.
Tell me, messieur Tiziano,
could you paint me?
If commanded.
For your destiny, My Lord Duke,
is already in your face.
May I command him, brother?
Illustrious brother-in-law,
my Tiziano is yours.
For six months, no longer.
Even so, the loan is worth having.
Tiziano, would you
follow us within the week?
- I'm afraid I must leave tonight.
- So soon?
Affairs with Venice
are coming to a head.
You should be with me, brother.
But I'm merciful.
I give you your honeymoon.
My Lord Duke, I leave with you my star.
While she shines peacefully in Ferrara,
my luck will hold.
Treat her gently.
The mask is still so smooth.
"Gently," advice to a third husband.
Goodbye, sister.
Rome will be a wilderness without you.
- Cesare, the drug, where is it?
- You'll get it in good time.
Meanwhile, make the people
of Ferrara love you.
- Yes! But your promise...
- And yours, remember?
It shouldn't be too difficult.
Be loving or be cold,
as the occasion serves,
but keep your husband so infatuated,
he'll deny you nothing.
Let me know when you've
persuaded him to break with Venice.
And the day my troops enter Ferrara,
do with him what you will.
Send it to me in this.
I want him to suffer
as Bisceglie suffered.
I've always given you
everything you wanted.
Goodbye, my sister.
- Farewell, brother.
- Farewell, brother.
We thank you, gentlemen.
Behold, a temple for
the Goddess Aphrodite,
where love shall reign forever and a day.
Poetry? Your own, My Lord?
- Well...
- I wasn't told my husband was a poet.
Not a poet, a lover.
A lover!
We must ask my husband to be patient
for half an hour.
Half an hour?
Well, what am I to do for this eternity
you call "half an hour"?
Let the lover be a poet.
Did you say "a poet?"
A poet, My Lord.
Yes, so I thought.
A poet.
The nightingale.
The nightingale...
The nightingale, as every poet...
As every lover knows,
he buildeth his wanton nest...
Wait, "He buildeth"?
Now, where does he build it?
And how
doth he build it?
Careful, now.
If you crack that mold, I'll skin you alive!
Lower it into the pit!
Center it! Center it!
Gently, you clumsy misbegotten apes!
I promised the duke a cannon,
and I'll get him one
if I have to break your backs to do it.
Lower away! All together now!
For Ferrara!
Let's do our part, men.
Heaven knows the duke is doing his.
The nightingale, as every lover knows,
buildeth his wanton nest
too near the rose.
The nightingale
learns every lover's song,
and mute by day...
And mute by day...
- He sings them all night long.
- He sings them all night long.
Well, My Lord, here stands the
last article in the marriage contract.
The territories,
the 300,000 ducats in gold,
the gems, the plate,
permission of tribute,
and Lucretia Borgia.
Are you content?
I shall be.
But am I content?
With the name of D'este,
the city of Ferrara,
and my heart, is it not enough?
The last only were enough.
The mask is most beautiful.
No mask, My Lord.
My soul hopes to please you.
Not me, Ferrara.
The city expects an heir.
- Is that part of the bargain?
- Part of the bargain.
As heaven wills.
My Lucretia, if only...
If only?
If only you didn't now
and then remind me of Cesare.
My wife, I meant only that
I would you had come to me
of your own desire,
not at your brother's command.
It was not my brother
who made me marry you.
No?
- Who then?
- You.
I desire to be at your side, always.
I desire to share your life
to its last gasping moment.
I desire that your last remembrance
of this world shall be
my face.
Must we talk of death beds now?
The whole place is going up in flames!
Have it put out.
Hurry, magnificence, hurry!
Please, go away.
It's burning, magnificence, the foundry!
The foundry!
Make room!
- We were about to pour the metal.
- Save the mold!
- A team with buckets, quickly.
- Get some water!
Have you forgotten the mold?
All of you, this way.
Buckets! Open the door!
- The draft will fan the flames!
- Water will fix it!
Two lines! Two lines!
Buckets here.
Faster, you sons of fools, faster!
The mold! The mold!
Water for the mold.
Throw them in here.
Faster, faster! Quench the flames!
We're all going down!
Faster!
- Be careful, My Lord!
- More water now.
The beam struck the casting spout.
The cannon pours itself.
The metal fills the mold.
We succeed after all.
No, My Lord, it pours too fast.
The cannon will be worthless.
The duke's sleeve, quickly!
Another failure.
Time is against us.
The bull is against us.
My wife...
Well, that's yet to discover.
At dawn, begin to cast another gun.
Another?
How long this time?
Ask me tomorrow, Vanetti.
Ask me tomorrow!
My wife.
You lay awake for me?
You smell of fire and smoke.
- I've been to the wars.
- Gemma, light a taper for My Lord.
Gemma, you're not needed.
Gemma, you are needed.
Gemma!
Have you forgotten?
We were married today.
Yesterday, it's past midnight.
What of that?
I live for the moment.
What's the matter?
Nothing in the world is the matter
except that I'm sleepy,
and I want to be alone.
Alone?
Are you angry because
I left you so suddenly?
- No.
- I had to put out the fire.
You certainly put out a fire.
But Gemma's lighted
those lesser fires for you.
Take them, Alfonso, and goodnight.
Goodnight?
I will not talk to you tonight.
How long, my duchess,
will your whim last?
Until the Duke of Ferrara
has convinced the Duchess of Ferrara
that this is no state marriage.
The duchess is justified.
The duke has behaved
excessively badly.
He excepts the reproof.
He will strive to atone.
There is still the garden
and the nightingale.
He will be there every night
with his lute.
- My husband.
- Yes?
If you don't need the candles,
pray, put them out.
Certainly.
You silly ass.
We have repaired everything
that was damaged, magnificence.
The cannon that poured itself,
you're sure it's worthless?
I am sure, Excellency.
Is it cool enough to open the mold?
With great care, magnificence.
Then melt it down, we'll cast tomorrow.
Impossible. It would take at least
a week to cut it up to fit into our furnace.
Then throw it into the moat.
Giuseppo, Paulo, Clemanzo,
open the mold.
Hurry up.
Careful, you! Careful!
Altogether, now. Heave! Heave!
Heave! Heave!
Heave!
Let it go!
If the Romans could cast huge statues,
why can't we cast a huge cannon?
This time, try less tin in your mixture.
The nightingale
As every lover knows
Buildeth...
Madonna, a husband
held beyond the door,
may never be a husband more.
Eleven nights, and he's so patient.
Singing away, rain or fine.
The nightingale
Learns every lover's heart
And mute by day
He singeth
All night long
The nightingale
As every lover knows
Buildeth his wanton nest
Too near the rose
The Nightingale
Learns every lover's song
And mute by day
Illustrious Madonna, it's not my fault.
No, I told the duke...
I told the duke that you would know
the difference between our voices.
I...
The duke sings, but I mean...
My voice is unique.
My throat... He will slit it.
If he slits it, how will I sing?
He will chase me out of Ferrara!
Compose yourself, I'm not angry!
I'm composed.
How much does my lord pay you?
Five hundred...
Fifty?
Five florin a week.
If you say nothing, and
continue to sing here nightly,
I will give you 10.
The Madonna recognizes
a beautiful voice.
Ten florin a week.
And five florin...
The nightingale
As every lover knows
Buildeth his wanton nest
Good night.
Too near the rose
The nighting...
Good evening, Beppo.
Good evening, your magnificent...
Your lordship.
When I sing with abandon,
almost anything can happen.
Sing on, my good Beppo,
the more abandon, the better.
My Lord.
Madonna.
The serenade is over for the evening.
Well, even the nightingale
would lose heart now and then,
were he doomed to a perpetual solo.
Poor nightingale.
Poor Alfonso.
Would the nightingale prefer a duet?
Then, Madonna, he could sing forever
with his heart in his throat.
You're in excellent voice tonight,
My Lord.
Don't you think I'm a little flat?
Beppo,
you are not needed.
Madonna, believe me,
I'm nonetheless your devoted slave.
Surely, you know
I have numerous affairs
that I must attend to.
Your affairs must be numerous indeed
if you can't steal
a few precious moments
to woo your lonely duchess in person.
I assure you
I desire nothing more devoutly
then that we should be together always.
You have a strange way of showing it.
You put out fires,
pay tavern singers to impersonate you,
and insult the house of Borgia
by refusing even to reply
to my brother's entreaties
for a military alliance.
How can you say you love me?
I am preparing my reply to your brother.
I want your love, Lucretia.
I want it desperately.
But there are some things
that are not in my power to give.
I dare not bargain with the
honor and safety of Ferrara.
But you're the master of Ferrara.
You can do with it as you will.
No, Lucretia, the people
are the masters of Ferrara.
And the duke ignores his wife's desires.
Until the duchess has convinced him
that this is no state marriage.
Madonna?
I live for the day
when you ask me to come to you
for myself alone, with no conditions.
Let it be soon, Lucretia. Soon.
We sentence you to
10 lashes with the whip,
and three days of hard labor
on the embankment.
The lash is to be postponed
until the next time you beat your wife.
Thank you, magnificence, thank you.
Thank you, thank you.
Well, boy,
what crime have you committed?
- I am a poet.
- That's no crime.
I was a poet once myself.
- What have you done?
- As Dante did.
He was driven from Florence
for telling a truth,
as I shall be from Ferrara.
- What is your name?
- Liberty and free utterance.
- His name?
- Bastino, magnificence.
He writes slanderous
and seditious verses.
- Are these in your writing?
- Yes.
- You wrote that line?
- Yes!
- And that line?
- Yes!
Give them to me. Release your hold,
he's not yet condemned.
- Well?
- My Lord Duke...
Well, well?
"Dame Lucretia's silken hair
brings Ferrara to despair."
Is that the best you can do? Continue.
- But Madonna, I...
- Continue.
"Lucretia took two husbands, as I heard.
The first one fled, the second she...
"Interred.
"Great Alfonso, will you be the third?"
- Enough of this.
- Give them to me.
"The widow brings a dowry to her lord.
"Four stolen provinces,
a miser's hoard of gems and ducats,
"and the strangler's cord."
You have much to learn, sir.
I had no time to polish.
You shall have time.
Madonna, the prisoner
is yours to deal with.
Perhaps you should send him to Rome,
to your brother, the duke Cesare Borgia.
I can but lose my life.
Not your life,
merely your hand and your tongue.
That, I think, Madonna, is how your
brother punished your last slanderer.
Mercy, Madonna, mercy.
Have me put to death, I beseech you,
but while I live I must speak.
I must write!
This is Ferrara.
- We want no part...
- Bastino is so young.
The sentence is too harsh.
Silence!
Bastino, you are free.
Now go home and write.
An ode, perhaps, on the absurd
forgiveness of a woman's heart.
She's an angel!
Long live the duchess!
Madonna, I predict that before morning,
you will be known in every wine shop
as the "beloved duchess."
- I have run my lady's errand.
- What errand?
Well, the truth is, my lady,
seeing you so put about
and trying to hide it,
I asked him to find out where
our lord duke goes every night.
- Gemma!
- I know, I know.
You're above spying, but I'm your nurse
and I can do what you can't.
- Who is the woman?
- Gemma!
Who is the woman?
Madonna is angry with us.
Who is the woman?
The duke, Madonna Gemma,
spends every night in the foundry.
What sort of a woman
lives in a foundry?
I can't tell you.
The place is locked and guarded.
No one can enter unchallenged,
not even the duke.
The duchess could.
Madonna, be angry tomorrow.
Today Bastino knows the way.
It'll be deserted today, Madonna.
It's Sunday.
Bastino, where is this foundry?
Follow me, Madonna.
Halt! Give the... Illustrious Madonna.
Gemma, Gemma!
I must send a messenger to Rome!
Cesare.
Strange, how you know, always,
when I need you.
I was concerned.
Why haven't I heard from you?
- Does my husband know you're here?
- I had myself announced.
- Is there any reason he shouldn't?
- Every reason. He's outwitted us.
Don't laugh!
He'll never break with Venice.
He'll never let you
march through Ferrara.
He only married me to gain time.
When he pretended to sing
in the garden, it was to gain time.
When he languished and lingered,
it was to gain time.
When he kissed me, it was to gain time.
Forget what you feel,
tell me what you know.
- Why must he gain time?
- He means to fight.
He's always meant to fight.
You've heard him speak of his Jupiter.
It's a cannon. A monster cannon.
Yours are no bigger than toys beside it.
Magnificence, a confidential courier
from Rome.
From my cousin of Mantua?
- Is Filippo with you?
- No, My Lord.
The lady regrets to inform you that
she's been unable to affect his escape.
- No chance remains?
- A slim one, My Lord.
To bribe the governor of the prison.
But the price is incredibly high.
The price is always high.
Come, sir,
I'll conduct you to the treasurer.
He will deliver you whatever is required.
What's this?
Halt! This man left his post.
In such times,
one man's failure to obey orders
can mean the end of Ferrara.
Hang him.
But, magnificence!
- Hang him!
- Forward.
- Please listen, magnificence.
- Silence!
The price is high.
- You saw only one?
- Yes.
- When was it cast?
- I don't know.
- You say it was still half in the mold?
- Yes, yes.
Then it can't possibly be ready
for action before my troops arrive.
They've been camped near Florence.
By forced marches,
they can get here in five days.
- War then?
- Your husband leaves me no choice.
Listen, five nights from tonight,
slip out by the river gate.
I'll have men hidden beside the road.
They'll escort you to my camp.
Meanwhile, continue
to play the tender wife.
Tenderness would be strange.
We've been at odds.
Do what you want,
so long as he suspects nothing.
Cesare.
A Borgia and afraid? Of what?
Are we evil, brother?
Are we what they say we are?
Sister, we live in an evil world.
A man must use every weapon
at his command.
In Ferrara,
I've seen a different kind of man.
- What man?
- My husband.
Which husband?
The murdered or the murderer?
I forgot Bisceglie.
How could I forget so soon?
You may have forgotten, sister, but not I.
- How long before the poison acts?
- Almost at once.
Farewell, sister.
My Lord Cesare. The advance
column flanks the towers of Ferrara.
- Halt.
- Halt.
Pitch camp in those fields.
Feed your men and commend them
for the swiftness of our march.
Yes, My Lord.
Advise Don Michelotto
to dispatch the men
who are to meet my sister
at the river gate.
- Have her brought directly to my tent.
- Yes, My Lord.
Meet me at the river gate
with a cloak at 11.
- But, Madonna...
- I must join my brother. Go now.
Is there no way of cooling it
more quickly, Vanetti?
No, magnificence.
If your magnificence could be
persuaded to take a night's rest...
You mean, Vanetti, that at such an hour,
a man should go home
to the arms of his loving wife.
- Magnificence.
- Yes?
A page outside the door beseeches you
to read this without delay.
I think I'll take your advice,
my friend. Goodnight.
Lucretia Borgia is yours.
For the rest of your life.
On my terms, Lucretia?
On your terms, I pledge myself.
And I pledge myself.
I drink to you and to Ferrara.
My Lucretia,
we owe ourselves so many lost hours.
The guilt is mine.
Had I but known my husband
as I know him now,
we would have drunk this pledge
much sooner.
A wife must wait and watch and learn.
Now you shall learn even more.
Come with me.
I know I've neglected you,
but necessity forced me to it.
I told you
I was preparing my answer to Cesare.
I am. Behind those foundry walls.
- Your Jupiter?
- No, Lucretia, a cannon.
A weapon so destructive,
1,000 Cesares would
not dare march against it.
You tell me this?
To a Borgia, it could only be Jupiter,
but to my wife
who rules Ferrara with me,
the foundry walls are glass.
You have such faith in me that you...
Love without faith...
Is not worthy of the name.
Between a man and his wife,
there should be no secrets.
Let me speak to the duke!
Magnificence! Magnificence!
Justice, My Lord Duke, justice.
Your pardon, magnificence.
He broke away.
We were taking him to be hanged.
My Lord Duke, beloved duchess,
hear me, I'm falsely condemned.
Stand back, the rest of you.
Well, what have you to say to us?
My Lord Duke,
I left my post only to tell you
I let someone enter the foundry.
Who was it?
The duchess, magnificence,
our own beloved duchess.
No harm could come of that.
- When?
- Last Sunday, five days ago.
Last Sunday...
Take him away.
Shall we proceed with the execution?
No, banish him.
God bless you, My Lord, God bless you.
Guard!
Paulie!
Do you hear?
Guard...
Magnificence!
Guard here, turn out the guards!
Get doctors. Run.
Find my wife.
I am Filippo Strozzi.
- Did you...
- He asked for the duchess.
But the duchess is gone, magnificence.
My lady commanded
an escort to the river gate.
Shall I send after her?
No matter now.
The Borgia attack has begun.
Ring the cathedral bell.
Close the gates. Man the walls!
Carry out the duke's orders.
To your posts!
That's how my cannon rang.
All my failures, hear them. One by one.
Enough.
- Drink this, My Lord.
- Your new antidote?
Alas, not yet tested, but I have faith in it.
And faith in itself is an antidote.
Now, take him up and
bear him to the fountain.
- I will have no part in this.
- No, nor I.
- No.
- Obey him.
Lay him into the water.
My Lord, we would plunge
your body into cold water.
The sudden shock may fortify your flesh,
much as we surgeons
temper our metal scalpels.
Temper the metal in cold water.
Suddenly.
The cannon that poured itself.
Vanetti! Vanetti!
Take care now. Take care.
Hold it clear of the moat.
Keep it headed straight.
Make firm those studs.
If you let it slip back into the moat,
I'll have you boiled in oil.
Easy, easy.
Good.
We rolled it into the moat
still hot, Vanetti.
The Roman's secret
may be ours at last.
My Lord.
I fear... I fear it.
We strike here,
one quick thrust at the river gate.
- Hammer it down?
- No, scale it.
- Once inside, it should be...
- A matter of minutes.
Perhaps, but never be too confident.
I wear full armor,
you should do the same.
Not worth it this time.
The only man in the place
was the duke, and he's a ghost.
Speak more considerately.
The duchess has undergone
great tribulations.
My deepest homage, duchess.
Come, sister, you did your part.
I did my part?
Hear me, Bisceglie, I did my part.
A soldier's tent is a
poor place for comfort.
- You need rest.
- Rest?
What is rest?
Our messieur Tiziano will distract you.
My Lord, the scouts have returned.
Let them report.
I'd stay with you myself, but as you see,
affairs prevent it.
You'll find our messieur Tiziano there.
Go on, my darling.
- Yes?
- Alarms in the city, My Lord Duke.
A great bell tolling.
- The death of the duke.
- And activity on the walls.
Our approach has been reported.
Madame Lucretia.
Sketching at a time like this.
What else can the poor artist do
and preserve his sanity, Madonna.
If great princes choose
to cut each other's throats,
that is none of my affair.
I'm concerned with art,
not with the world.
Cover it. Cover it!
It is covered, Madonna.
Perhaps my lady will
find this more interesting.
- How dare you.
- Dare what, gracious lady?
Paint a devil with my brother's features.
Forgive me, Madonna,
I paint what I see.
Then you are no artist.
This is the Cesare Borgia.
The slanderous,
little men jealous of his genius,
they know nothing of my brother,
his love for me, his kindness, his loyalty.
Look again, messieur Tiziano,
and redeem your reputation.
I trust Madonna will
find this more satisfactory.
Whose face is that?
Madonna, this is
messieur Filippo Strozzi,
the Duke Alfonso's personal physician.
That face is not his.
I should know him in a sea of faces.
Madonna, never say I failed twice.
This is how he stood
when first I saw him.
I poisoned my thumb
grinding lapis lazuli,
and in three days,
he sent me back to my brushes.
I tell you, that is not the man
who watched with me
at the prince's bedside.
That face is not his!
Then the man who watched with
you was not Filippo Strozzi.
- Madonna was imposed upon.
- But why?
Who brought an assassin
to my husband, calling him Filippo?
What devil...
Madonna...
You,
Cesare.
You used an assassin
to murder the boy who loved me.
And then used me to murder the man I...
Lucretia.
Yes?
Let me speak alone with the Madonna.
What is it, Cesare?
You've borne so much,
I hesitate to speak,
except it touches on your welfare.
Have things gone amiss?
No, not gone amiss.
But something troubles me.
What?
Ferrara now belongs to you.
But our advance has been
reported to them,
and there are signs
they will resist in force.
I'm reluctant to destroy your city,
kill your subjects.
Unfortunately, my plans
for Venice make it necessary.
Unless, of course,
we can devise some other means.
Remember my advice
to make the people love you?
Yes.
Did you?
Yes.
Then you can save your city
bloodshed and destruction.
How?
If you go back,
and when my heralds summon
their surrender at the river gate,
you appear upon the walls,
their widowed duchess,
blind with tears, to plead for mercy.
I'll grant it and march in,
not as a conqueror,
but as their ruler's
brother and protector.
My everlasting gratitude.
You know your happiness
is my first consideration.
I'll make arrangements
for your swift return.
Yes, Cesare, I'll go back.
- Madonna, I heard.
- He is gone, Tiziano.
But I will take your place,
and defend our city, if I die for it.
Open the gate
in the name of the duchess.
Open the gate for the duchess.
Captain of the Guard.
Call your officers to me at once.
Vanetti, stop!
Halt!
You wore your weeds too soon,
my willing widow.
I've been spared.
But death will not be cheated twice.
My life is over, My Lord,
do with it as you will.
Thank God you live.
And what Borgia purpose
now brings you back to us?
I return to defend your city.
The attack will come here
at the river gates.
- Set the cannon here.
- We thank you.
We are now convinced
the attack will not come here.
- Vanetti.
- No, My Lord, no.
I heard the plan made
in my brother's tent.
You ask me to believe
you would betray your brother?
My lord husband, until tonight,
I believed you killed Bisceglie.
Your ring was found in his hand.
But I know now who murdered him.
The attack will come at the river gate.
You must believe me
or Ferrara's doomed.
Guards, escort the duchess
to the tower room.
On to the south gate.
Forward!
- Halt.
- Halt!
People of Ferrara, in the name of
the high and mighty Cesare Borgia,
Duke of Valentino...
Release the duchess. Unhitch!
Place the cannon at the river gate.
Open your gates!
Now is the time for her
to appear on the walls.
Open your gates!
Quiet, Duke's orders.
Quiet, Duke's orders.
Where is she?
Why doesn't she answer him?
She will. She will.
Under the pain of My Lord's displeasure,
open the gates!
If they've harmed her...
- Sound the advance.
- Sound the advance!
The assembled command,
you have your orders.
Forward!
Halt!
Unhitch!
- Halt.
- Close up, close up, close up.
Bring out the chains!
Get up!
Cavalry to the front.
Fetch the powder and the ball.
Vanetti, wait. Cram it with iron scrap.
Bolts, lengths of chain. Hurry.
My Lord, I implore you,
nurse your strength.
Guards, to me. Loose these chains.
Scraps, bolts. Anything you can find.
- Powder's in?
- Yes, My Lord.
Out with it!
To the gate.
- Halt!
- Halt.
Halt!
- All loaded, My Lord.
- The fuse!
Ladders to the wall.
Get them all back.
Open the gate.
Back, everyone. Back, I say!
This cannon may blow us all to bits.
Get back!
Open the gate!
Surrender! The gates are opening.
Victory! Victory!
A cannon, a monster cannon!
The duke's alive and commands.
And, look. It's your sister.
- A trick! A trick!
- The devil...
Run, get back, and save yourselves.
Close the gates.
Reload. More chain, more iron.
Quickly, reload!
Powder, more here, more chain.
Halt. Halt!
Lord Borgia, he leads us to destruction!
- Forward. Forward.
- Cesare Borgia!
We're not beaten yet.
Form a column and attack.
It'll take them time to reload.
- Too late.
- Too late?
I cannot fight the stars.
Mine shines on me no longer.
Your star? That treacherous witch?
You may not want Ferrara, but I do.
I'll deal with that sister of yours.
If she was the devil's sister,
I'd deal with her.
So, you turn your back on your master.
Master?
Rally your men! Report to me for orders.
Master...
It's over, Michelotto, for both of us.
Farewell, sister.
Victory! Victory!
Long live the duke!
Life forever, Alfonso!
Madonna.
What does this mean,
My Lord? Mockery?
No, Lucretia.
This means love and faith, my darling.
Honor us, Your Highnesses.
- My Lord Duke.
Well, what duties
have I left undone as usual?
- My Lord Duke...
- Give my good Gino 10 florins.
Silver, I trust?
I have a reputation for
extravagance to maintain. Gold!
Proceed.
My Lord Duke,
Cesare Borgia has invited you to Rome.
His invitation is still unanswered!
- But, My Lord Duke, the Borgia!
- Ignore the Borgia.
Ignore?
But, Duke, how can we ignore the man
who wants to conquer the world?
Already his troops have overrun Imola,
Forli, and Pesaro.
Cesare Borgia menaces every one
of the 32 independent states in Italy.
- My Lord...
- Count Peruzzi?
May I speak bluntly?
My dear old friend,
as bluntly as you please.
I can no longer keep silent.
Believe me, I mean no disrespect.
But for these many months past,
you have been a changed man.
In our hour of great peril,
with Cesare Borgia on the march,
you've become frivolous,
indolent and neglectful of your duties.
You dawdle away your hours in a locked
and guarded foundry casting a statue.
You spend money on this effigy
that might better be spent
to strengthen our defenses.
It's a statue of the god, Jupiter.
A present from me to the city.
And I'm shocked
at Ferrara's ingratitude, and deeply hurt.
I'm sorry you think so little of me,
my old friend.
It is not I who think little of you, My Lord,
but Cesare Borgia.
The bull will first
trample upon the weak.
Why else would he insolently summon
you to Rome to appear before him
as one summons a servant?
Peruzzi, what are you saying?
My Lord, the summons was not insolent,
it was most gracious.
And graciousness
compels you to accept!
- So, you want me to go to Rome?
- Your acceptance is long overdue.
And let the bull
sweeten my wine with arsenic?
Even the bull would not murder a guest.
Well, they say
he murdered his own brother.
It was never proven, My Lord.
- Merely a family quarrel, I suppose.
- Yes, My Lord.
Perhaps you're right.
It may be only
that the bull desires my company.
But I must confess, I have long waited
to look upon his sister, Lucretia.
They tell me she's a lily,
a veritable tiger lily.
A lily whose petals drip poison.
But messieur Filippo is
the connoisseur of antidotes.
Snake bites, tarantulas, hemlock.
I've cures for them all.
But I confess, I long to test my skill
against Borgia venoms.
Then you'll accept his invitation?
Never! Magnificence, I beg of you,
be your father's son.
The bull will make war on us
when and if it suits his convenience.
We cannot stay him with appeasement.
If we must die, let it not be
groveling at this tyrant's feet in Rome.
Let us die standing here,
in Ferrara, like men.
In the gallery! Guard the doors!
- Men of arms, to the gallery!
- Seal off the entrances!
Watch the stairs!
The horns of the bull are long.
The assassin is still at large, My Lord.
Continue the search
with all available men.
Yes, magnificence.
We leave at once, Filippo.
Whatever the bull's intention,
it'll be easier to discover it
face to face with him in Rome.
- Easier, My Lord, but more dangerous.
- Dangerous?
The Duke of Ferrara,
who has lately become notorious
as the greatest fool in all Italy?
An excellent disguise, My Lord.
Trust me, I shall wear it with a flourish.
Mercy, My Lord Cesare, mercy!
Let him go free.
But he must, of course,
leave pledges with us
to ensure that he no longer
slanders Madonna Lucretia.
- And those will be?
- His tongue and his right hand.
Do I please you, my brother?
You were always
at your best in my colors.
- Gemma.
- Yes, Excellency.
My black pearls.
And hurry, death is getting impatient.
- Yes, Your Excellency.
- Well, that's my dog, Fury, not Death.
- Death?
- My pearls against your chain it's Fury.
Hold that dog. Quiet there!
Take your pearls.
But you won.
What I win is yours, sister.
My lovely sister.
- You're very generous today.
- I like to see you happy.
I want you to have your heart's desire.
And if I desire something
you do not possess?
I would possess myself of it.
Suppose I ask for a state of my own,
a great state.
Venice, perhaps, or Milan or Florence?
Which one should I ask for, brother?
Ask for them all.
Ask for every state in Italy,
all combined in one great nation
under the banner of the bull.
- Cesare...
- Our banner.
- Can it be done?
- You believe in me?
I do. But so many states.
Many or few,
if I can deal with them one by one.
Madonna Lucretia has marvelous taste.
Where does she find
these exquisite figurines?
They find them in tombs.
They're all over the place.
They're excavating...
Is that why the Duke of Ferrara is here?
Have you spoken to him yet?
I'm letting him worry.
He doesn't look worried.
I resent this.
Here, in eternal Rome,
you stole into your gardens
and dig up statues
as if they were turnips.
Now, in Ferrara,
we have to fashion our own.
How unfortunate.
My dear Duke,
you have my deepest sympathy.
- Tell me, cousin Alfonso...
- Eleonora?
Why do you play the fool here in Rome?
Do I seem more foolish than usual,
my beautiful cousin of Mantua?
Don't fence with me, Alfonso.
I'm a D'Este, too. You're in danger here.
I brought messieur Filippo
with his antidotes,
but it's heartening to know
that I have another ally here.
You can count on me. I've made several
useful connections during my visit here.
Money opens lips as well as locks
even in the court of Cesare...
All the same, I should like
to show you my big Jupiter
when next you visit my little Ferrara.
- When do you take his little Ferrara?
- Never fight for what you can buy.
Or buy what you can get for nothing.
Shall we go?
Without the beloved
and princely Bisceglie?
Where's my husband, Gemma?
He's having
his mustache perfumed, Madonna.
And telling the barber
how he always kills the boar.
Fifty ducats he kills the boar today.
A hundred and fifty
he kills the boar today.
A thousand that I kill the boar today.
- My sweet.
- Our Cesare won't risk his money.
- Not against the best hunter in Italy.
- He's jealous of you, darling.
Everyone's jealous of me,
and with good reason.
No, no, please. Stop it.
No, no, we must leave.
You fool!
My pearls! Now I'm very angry with you!
I'll buy you 20 ropes of pearls.
I don't want them,
Cesare gave these to me.
I'll never forgive you.
Then you leave me no reason to exist!
You lunatic, you'll kill yourself!
- Am I forgiven?
- No.
- Then farewell!
- No!
It's the prince.
Lucretia, you're a wicked girl.
Someday you'll tease him so, he'll
somersault himself right into his grave.
Gemma.
- Bravo!
- Bravo!
He'll break his neck one of these days,
that Neapolitan monkey.
God forbid.
Then Madonna Lucretia
would be inconsolable.
I'd dry her eyes.
Don Michelotto, the
prince Bisceglie is my brother-in-law
and my close friend,
and I dislike your tone.
I'm a better man than that
jumping jack of Naples will ever be.
You can hardly expect me
to agree with you, my friend.
- Officially.
- The man's a centaur!
That's better, My Lord.
Now, when do we march?
My men are getting restless.
We're moving north against Venice.
Venice, why?
With Venice and Naples in my pocket,
no other state would dare withstand me.
That's all very well, but Ferrara
lies here between us and Venice.
Will they fight
if we march through their territory?
I've asked the Duke of Ferrara here
to discuss the matter with him.
I hope to persuade him
not to oppose us.
And if he won't be persuaded?
The Roman fever
is notoriously prevalent this year.
They say it is caused by
exhalations from the swamps.
And if the Duke of Ferrara should...
Whoever succeeds him may be more
inclined to discuss matters my way.
My Lord Duke, you promised me a state.
Yes, but the health of
his Highness of Ferrara comes first.
He'd risk his life...
Bravo!
Hello to Ferrara.
He's quite an acrobat,
your brother-in-law.
Forgive me
for delaying our conversation.
Conversation?
My purpose in inviting you to Rome...
You want to buy my Jupiter. I knew it!
I need your friendship, not your Jupiter.
Certainly, certainly, certainly, certainly.
And this, I must impress upon you,
is a secret.
Better not tell me. I know myself.
A glass of wine, a pretty woman,
and where's your secret?
Bravo! Bravo!
I'm moving against Venice.
But why, when Rome is so comfortable?
Therefore I need a military alliance,
permitting my troops to enter Ferrara
to set up a base of operations there.
I see.
Well, unfortunately, I'm really
not too familiar with these matters,
but I believe Ferrara already
has a military alliance with Venice.
- Break it.
- Break it?
Break it?
But my dear Duke, we are friends.
But, well, my people,
they don't know you as I do.
- And it isn't as if I had...
- Enough...
- Do you read Latin?
- Enough for a duke.
Read this, then.
Well, I should
translate that very roughly,
as "Cesare or nothing."
Translate it for the people of Ferrara.
Now, where have I heard that before.
Of course!
That was Julius' motto, your namesake,
the original Cesare,
the fellow
who wanted to conquer the world.
And how did he end up?
At the foot of a statue,
with 30 dagger holes in him.
Or was it 40?
No, 30.
So, you reject my offer?
Shall we go to the hunt now, brother?
My dear friend,
how can I discuss affairs of state
when your sister smiles on me?
Madonna,
could you pardon a thief?
What have you tried to steal, sir,
my heart?
No, still there and quite safe.
This pearl has lain against it.
That's why I stole it.
Well, if that's the reason, keep it.
Madonna, it shall lie on mine
now and forever.
- You'll need a chain.
- I wear one already.
Well, when does he catch the fever?
I think he has caught it already.
- Your Rome is a wicked city.
- More wicked than your Ferrara?
I never made love to
a royally married duchess in Ferrara.
Are you making love?
I suppose in Ferrara,
they make it at arm's length.
But in Rome, Madonna,
one does as the Romans do.
That was disturbing.
And I have no wish to be disturbed.
Golden Madonna,
you'll only break your hunting crop
on this thick skull of mine.
Keep it for the hounds, your own Fury,
your brother's Death.
Yes, the fever rages.
Michelotto, my right hand,
I have work for you.
The hunt returns!
Rogues, hurry along with your labors!
What a delightful expedition.
You'd be a better husband if
you kept your eyes on the boar
instead of the lady.
There's nothing that can't be tamed,
my lady,
except, possibly, your heart.
Descend, my goddess of the hunt.
You're very pleased with yourself,
aren't you?
- Did you kill?
- Why, naturally.
Fabulous achievement.
You, My Lord Duke, took good care
not to be in at the death.
- You were too hard on him.
- He laughed at you.
- Who cares?
- I care.
I'm Lucretia Borgia,
and you're my husband.
How dare that fool mock?
I believe, I truly believe.
- What do you believe?
- That my dear wife loves me.
Get rid of that.
Hey, Alessandro!
Alessandro!
Guards! Guards, to the stairs!
Watch for your safety, My Lord.
Hold your fire, you'll hit the prince.
- There!
- Look! There, on the landing!
- They've stabbed him!
- They're attacking the prince!
Stop them! Stop them!
Guards! Guards, to the prince!
- Lucretia...
- Here, my dear, here.
Your pardon, Madonna.
Cesare, don't let him die.
I think you may hope.
I have seen many wounded men,
and the assassins
seem to have blundered.
- Lucretia...
- Yes, my heart. Yes?
- Blunderer.
- Not my fault.
They were my best men,
but the prince fights like a wildcat.
Well, you know the proverb,
"What did not happen at dinner,
will happen at supper."
- I forbid you to touch him!
- Magnificent Madonna...
Cesare, the fool wants to
bleed him when he's half-dead
- now from loss of blood.
- There...
By all the rules of surgery...
The fellow is a skilled physician.
The fellow is a butcher.
I will nurse the prince.
I don't trust him. I don't trust anyone.
Why did you kill that man?
He should have been held for torture.
Then we should have known
who set them on.
But who could have wanted to hurt him?
He had no enemies,
he had no ambition,
except to make me happy.
Yet, some man
has paid other men to strike him down,
here, in our own house.
Your pardon, Madonna.
Forgive this intrusion,
but I could not take my leave
without learning how the prince fairs.
My husband is young and strong.
We have good hope that he will recover.
Dear Madonna,
I have with me my own physician,
Messieur Filippo Strozzi.
- May I send for him?
- Would he try to bleed the prince?
I think not. His whole art
is to keep the wounds clean
and strengthen the patient.
My lord, if your messieur Filippo
restores the prince to me,
I'm your humble,
grateful debtor, always.
Your Filippo will be still in your quarters.
I fear not.
He begged my leave to lodge
in the outskirts of Rome.
He's studying the Roman fever,
which they say is an...
An exhalation from the swamps.
Yes, but I will send for him at once.
Take this token to
messieur Filippo Strozzi,
at the Carthusian monastery.
Bid him come at once.
I leave you to give him orders,
I shall be gone.
- So, this is farewell.
- I hope not.
You must visit us in Ferrara
when the occasion serves you.
It shall serve me.
I am Filippo Strozzi,
physician to My Lord Duke of Ferrara.
Identify yourself.
My master's ring.
- Greetings, messieur Filippo.
- My Lord.
Show him the way.
The Tiber?
With so much wisdom
in that old head of his,
no, my friend, he'll serve us yet.
Merely hold him incommunicado
and well-guarded.
You may sleep in peace, Madonna.
His wounds are healing fast.
But if he should wake, messieur Filippo,
he'll need me.
I promise you that he shall not wake.
Come, Madonna, sleep.
They say the cord
was still about his neck.
- I shall see it till I die.
- Did you mark this ring?
It was clutched in your husband's hand.
He must've torn it from the
murderer's finger as they struggled.
You talk and talk.
It does not bring back the dead.
Look upon this ring, Lucretia.
A black and white eagle
on a red ground, the emblem of Ferrara.
- What colors are this?
- Red and white.
The colors of Ferrara.
Now, do you understand?
That fop, that fool.
Why would he have my husband killed?
Look into your glass, sister.
You were too kind to him, Lucretia.
And so, he dreamed, jealous dreams.
- Jealous?
- The man was besotted.
Your husband came between
you and his desires.
How long is he to live?
Have I ever failed you, sister?
Not long.
Cesare, this time, let me be part of it.
Let me be the one. Let me, Cesare!
I promise you a better vengeance
than ever a woman had in this world.
A pledge of it.
"In God's name, from the
high and mighty prince, Cesare Borgia,
"Duke of Valentino,
Don Fogliari, Duke of Romania..."
Mark me, it's a declaration of war.
"...Lord of Pesaro..."
Whatever it is, we must be wary.
True, true. Consider Cesare's reply
to our inquiry about Filippo.
Filippo never arrived. Filippo simply
disappeared, yet we know he holds him.
"Whereas it had pleased heaven
"to set our two realms
over against each other.
- "And, in as much..."
- Sir Herald, you have our thanks.
We will now ask Don Michelotto
to continue,
and to come to the point.
Most noble Lord Duke,
my master offers you
the hand and person
of the most illustrious Lady Lucretia,
Princess Bisceglie, in marriage.
Her dowry includes Spoleto,
Piave, and Cento,
with 300,000 ducats in gold.
With gems, jewelry and plate.
The marriage will take place
without delay.
We are overwhelmed.
- We must reflect.
- Reflect?
The greatest man in Italy
offers you his own gracious sister,
and you have to reflect?
By the banner of the bull,
I'll teach you to insult us!
On the contrary, Don Michelotto,
courtesy alone prevents
our replying over-hastily
to your master's magnanimous offer.
We need till tomorrow
to couch our reply
in the proper expressions
of gratitude and esteem.
- Tomorrow, then. But mark me...
- The audience is at an end.
This marriage must take place at once.
Three hundred thousand ducats.
Be advised, most illustrious Lord Duke,
let nothing deter you from
consummating this matter tomorrow.
My Lord Duke, we can't spare you now.
We have to discuss
the terms of your answer.
Discuss them among yourselves,
I'm going to the foundry.
I must know
how my Jupiter is cooling out.
I'm almost convinced
that the duke is not...
Halt, give the password.
My Jupiter.
Every cannon in the world
is a toy compared with you.
- Is it cool?
- Yes, magnificence.
It rings like La Vaca, the cathedral bell.
So did the others, then shattered.
Well, we can but hope.
- We test tonight.
- Tonight?
They must have our answer by morning.
Halt!
But this is the mayor of Ferrara.
He's been supping with me.
Duke's orders. No one is to pass.
Duke's orders, duke's orders.
The duke's...
Put in the fuse.
I'm a loyal subject, but the duke's whims
are more than I can stand.
What he needs is a wife
to keep him in bounds like other folk.
Further back, all of you!
Lie down! Cover your ears!
Now, magnificence, pray.
Pray to Saint Barbara
that we succeed tonight.
- Amen.
- Amen.
Amen.
What a pity it isn't really a statue.
The duke is raising the devil.
Torch.
- Anyone else hurt?
- No, Excellency.
So, we begin anew.
I have failed you again, sir.
- Employ someone else.
- Never.
Cheer up, my friend.
If the ancients could cast statues,
we can cast cannon.
It's only a matter of time.
And I think I can give you a little more.
I am no longer a young man.
You don't understand
what the work will cost me.
Vanetti, I'm a young man,
and I know what it'll cost me.
Think of my fate, Vanetti.
Doomed to take a wife, and so forth,
merely to give you time
to make a cannon.
Love is a...
So, fly on the wings of a kiss
Forever increasing our bounty
For blessing Of wedded bliss
- Don Borgia!
- Don, with the...
My brother-in-law, what is wrong?
The public fountains have run with wine
since dawn, my brother-in-law.
You're a great man, brother.
In you, I salute a greater one.
But here is the greater man
than either of us,
my court painter, messieur Tiziano.
You're right, Ferrara.
Why, you own the
greatest man in the world.
Frankly, if any offer could
tempt him into my service,
I should,
with the well-known Borgia treachery,
forget our relationship.
No, no. You may not have him.
He's to immortalize my new duchess.
My Lord Duke,
I have now seen your duchess.
- I dare not.
- Dare not?
Madonna's face is still a velvet mask.
I could paint its texture,
its red and white,
the subtle tender curves,
but Madonna herself still hides
behind the mask of her own beauty.
And so, the poor painter must wait.
Tell me, messieur Tiziano,
could you paint me?
If commanded.
For your destiny, My Lord Duke,
is already in your face.
May I command him, brother?
Illustrious brother-in-law,
my Tiziano is yours.
For six months, no longer.
Even so, the loan is worth having.
Tiziano, would you
follow us within the week?
- I'm afraid I must leave tonight.
- So soon?
Affairs with Venice
are coming to a head.
You should be with me, brother.
But I'm merciful.
I give you your honeymoon.
My Lord Duke, I leave with you my star.
While she shines peacefully in Ferrara,
my luck will hold.
Treat her gently.
The mask is still so smooth.
"Gently," advice to a third husband.
Goodbye, sister.
Rome will be a wilderness without you.
- Cesare, the drug, where is it?
- You'll get it in good time.
Meanwhile, make the people
of Ferrara love you.
- Yes! But your promise...
- And yours, remember?
It shouldn't be too difficult.
Be loving or be cold,
as the occasion serves,
but keep your husband so infatuated,
he'll deny you nothing.
Let me know when you've
persuaded him to break with Venice.
And the day my troops enter Ferrara,
do with him what you will.
Send it to me in this.
I want him to suffer
as Bisceglie suffered.
I've always given you
everything you wanted.
Goodbye, my sister.
- Farewell, brother.
- Farewell, brother.
We thank you, gentlemen.
Behold, a temple for
the Goddess Aphrodite,
where love shall reign forever and a day.
Poetry? Your own, My Lord?
- Well...
- I wasn't told my husband was a poet.
Not a poet, a lover.
A lover!
We must ask my husband to be patient
for half an hour.
Half an hour?
Well, what am I to do for this eternity
you call "half an hour"?
Let the lover be a poet.
Did you say "a poet?"
A poet, My Lord.
Yes, so I thought.
A poet.
The nightingale.
The nightingale...
The nightingale, as every poet...
As every lover knows,
he buildeth his wanton nest...
Wait, "He buildeth"?
Now, where does he build it?
And how
doth he build it?
Careful, now.
If you crack that mold, I'll skin you alive!
Lower it into the pit!
Center it! Center it!
Gently, you clumsy misbegotten apes!
I promised the duke a cannon,
and I'll get him one
if I have to break your backs to do it.
Lower away! All together now!
For Ferrara!
Let's do our part, men.
Heaven knows the duke is doing his.
The nightingale, as every lover knows,
buildeth his wanton nest
too near the rose.
The nightingale
learns every lover's song,
and mute by day...
And mute by day...
- He sings them all night long.
- He sings them all night long.
Well, My Lord, here stands the
last article in the marriage contract.
The territories,
the 300,000 ducats in gold,
the gems, the plate,
permission of tribute,
and Lucretia Borgia.
Are you content?
I shall be.
But am I content?
With the name of D'este,
the city of Ferrara,
and my heart, is it not enough?
The last only were enough.
The mask is most beautiful.
No mask, My Lord.
My soul hopes to please you.
Not me, Ferrara.
The city expects an heir.
- Is that part of the bargain?
- Part of the bargain.
As heaven wills.
My Lucretia, if only...
If only?
If only you didn't now
and then remind me of Cesare.
My wife, I meant only that
I would you had come to me
of your own desire,
not at your brother's command.
It was not my brother
who made me marry you.
No?
- Who then?
- You.
I desire to be at your side, always.
I desire to share your life
to its last gasping moment.
I desire that your last remembrance
of this world shall be
my face.
Must we talk of death beds now?
The whole place is going up in flames!
Have it put out.
Hurry, magnificence, hurry!
Please, go away.
It's burning, magnificence, the foundry!
The foundry!
Make room!
- We were about to pour the metal.
- Save the mold!
- A team with buckets, quickly.
- Get some water!
Have you forgotten the mold?
All of you, this way.
Buckets! Open the door!
- The draft will fan the flames!
- Water will fix it!
Two lines! Two lines!
Buckets here.
Faster, you sons of fools, faster!
The mold! The mold!
Water for the mold.
Throw them in here.
Faster, faster! Quench the flames!
We're all going down!
Faster!
- Be careful, My Lord!
- More water now.
The beam struck the casting spout.
The cannon pours itself.
The metal fills the mold.
We succeed after all.
No, My Lord, it pours too fast.
The cannon will be worthless.
The duke's sleeve, quickly!
Another failure.
Time is against us.
The bull is against us.
My wife...
Well, that's yet to discover.
At dawn, begin to cast another gun.
Another?
How long this time?
Ask me tomorrow, Vanetti.
Ask me tomorrow!
My wife.
You lay awake for me?
You smell of fire and smoke.
- I've been to the wars.
- Gemma, light a taper for My Lord.
Gemma, you're not needed.
Gemma, you are needed.
Gemma!
Have you forgotten?
We were married today.
Yesterday, it's past midnight.
What of that?
I live for the moment.
What's the matter?
Nothing in the world is the matter
except that I'm sleepy,
and I want to be alone.
Alone?
Are you angry because
I left you so suddenly?
- No.
- I had to put out the fire.
You certainly put out a fire.
But Gemma's lighted
those lesser fires for you.
Take them, Alfonso, and goodnight.
Goodnight?
I will not talk to you tonight.
How long, my duchess,
will your whim last?
Until the Duke of Ferrara
has convinced the Duchess of Ferrara
that this is no state marriage.
The duchess is justified.
The duke has behaved
excessively badly.
He excepts the reproof.
He will strive to atone.
There is still the garden
and the nightingale.
He will be there every night
with his lute.
- My husband.
- Yes?
If you don't need the candles,
pray, put them out.
Certainly.
You silly ass.
We have repaired everything
that was damaged, magnificence.
The cannon that poured itself,
you're sure it's worthless?
I am sure, Excellency.
Is it cool enough to open the mold?
With great care, magnificence.
Then melt it down, we'll cast tomorrow.
Impossible. It would take at least
a week to cut it up to fit into our furnace.
Then throw it into the moat.
Giuseppo, Paulo, Clemanzo,
open the mold.
Hurry up.
Careful, you! Careful!
Altogether, now. Heave! Heave!
Heave! Heave!
Heave!
Let it go!
If the Romans could cast huge statues,
why can't we cast a huge cannon?
This time, try less tin in your mixture.
The nightingale
As every lover knows
Buildeth...
Madonna, a husband
held beyond the door,
may never be a husband more.
Eleven nights, and he's so patient.
Singing away, rain or fine.
The nightingale
Learns every lover's heart
And mute by day
He singeth
All night long
The nightingale
As every lover knows
Buildeth his wanton nest
Too near the rose
The Nightingale
Learns every lover's song
And mute by day
Illustrious Madonna, it's not my fault.
No, I told the duke...
I told the duke that you would know
the difference between our voices.
I...
The duke sings, but I mean...
My voice is unique.
My throat... He will slit it.
If he slits it, how will I sing?
He will chase me out of Ferrara!
Compose yourself, I'm not angry!
I'm composed.
How much does my lord pay you?
Five hundred...
Fifty?
Five florin a week.
If you say nothing, and
continue to sing here nightly,
I will give you 10.
The Madonna recognizes
a beautiful voice.
Ten florin a week.
And five florin...
The nightingale
As every lover knows
Buildeth his wanton nest
Good night.
Too near the rose
The nighting...
Good evening, Beppo.
Good evening, your magnificent...
Your lordship.
When I sing with abandon,
almost anything can happen.
Sing on, my good Beppo,
the more abandon, the better.
My Lord.
Madonna.
The serenade is over for the evening.
Well, even the nightingale
would lose heart now and then,
were he doomed to a perpetual solo.
Poor nightingale.
Poor Alfonso.
Would the nightingale prefer a duet?
Then, Madonna, he could sing forever
with his heart in his throat.
You're in excellent voice tonight,
My Lord.
Don't you think I'm a little flat?
Beppo,
you are not needed.
Madonna, believe me,
I'm nonetheless your devoted slave.
Surely, you know
I have numerous affairs
that I must attend to.
Your affairs must be numerous indeed
if you can't steal
a few precious moments
to woo your lonely duchess in person.
I assure you
I desire nothing more devoutly
then that we should be together always.
You have a strange way of showing it.
You put out fires,
pay tavern singers to impersonate you,
and insult the house of Borgia
by refusing even to reply
to my brother's entreaties
for a military alliance.
How can you say you love me?
I am preparing my reply to your brother.
I want your love, Lucretia.
I want it desperately.
But there are some things
that are not in my power to give.
I dare not bargain with the
honor and safety of Ferrara.
But you're the master of Ferrara.
You can do with it as you will.
No, Lucretia, the people
are the masters of Ferrara.
And the duke ignores his wife's desires.
Until the duchess has convinced him
that this is no state marriage.
Madonna?
I live for the day
when you ask me to come to you
for myself alone, with no conditions.
Let it be soon, Lucretia. Soon.
We sentence you to
10 lashes with the whip,
and three days of hard labor
on the embankment.
The lash is to be postponed
until the next time you beat your wife.
Thank you, magnificence, thank you.
Thank you, thank you.
Well, boy,
what crime have you committed?
- I am a poet.
- That's no crime.
I was a poet once myself.
- What have you done?
- As Dante did.
He was driven from Florence
for telling a truth,
as I shall be from Ferrara.
- What is your name?
- Liberty and free utterance.
- His name?
- Bastino, magnificence.
He writes slanderous
and seditious verses.
- Are these in your writing?
- Yes.
- You wrote that line?
- Yes!
- And that line?
- Yes!
Give them to me. Release your hold,
he's not yet condemned.
- Well?
- My Lord Duke...
Well, well?
"Dame Lucretia's silken hair
brings Ferrara to despair."
Is that the best you can do? Continue.
- But Madonna, I...
- Continue.
"Lucretia took two husbands, as I heard.
The first one fled, the second she...
"Interred.
"Great Alfonso, will you be the third?"
- Enough of this.
- Give them to me.
"The widow brings a dowry to her lord.
"Four stolen provinces,
a miser's hoard of gems and ducats,
"and the strangler's cord."
You have much to learn, sir.
I had no time to polish.
You shall have time.
Madonna, the prisoner
is yours to deal with.
Perhaps you should send him to Rome,
to your brother, the duke Cesare Borgia.
I can but lose my life.
Not your life,
merely your hand and your tongue.
That, I think, Madonna, is how your
brother punished your last slanderer.
Mercy, Madonna, mercy.
Have me put to death, I beseech you,
but while I live I must speak.
I must write!
This is Ferrara.
- We want no part...
- Bastino is so young.
The sentence is too harsh.
Silence!
Bastino, you are free.
Now go home and write.
An ode, perhaps, on the absurd
forgiveness of a woman's heart.
She's an angel!
Long live the duchess!
Madonna, I predict that before morning,
you will be known in every wine shop
as the "beloved duchess."
- I have run my lady's errand.
- What errand?
Well, the truth is, my lady,
seeing you so put about
and trying to hide it,
I asked him to find out where
our lord duke goes every night.
- Gemma!
- I know, I know.
You're above spying, but I'm your nurse
and I can do what you can't.
- Who is the woman?
- Gemma!
Who is the woman?
Madonna is angry with us.
Who is the woman?
The duke, Madonna Gemma,
spends every night in the foundry.
What sort of a woman
lives in a foundry?
I can't tell you.
The place is locked and guarded.
No one can enter unchallenged,
not even the duke.
The duchess could.
Madonna, be angry tomorrow.
Today Bastino knows the way.
It'll be deserted today, Madonna.
It's Sunday.
Bastino, where is this foundry?
Follow me, Madonna.
Halt! Give the... Illustrious Madonna.
Gemma, Gemma!
I must send a messenger to Rome!
Cesare.
Strange, how you know, always,
when I need you.
I was concerned.
Why haven't I heard from you?
- Does my husband know you're here?
- I had myself announced.
- Is there any reason he shouldn't?
- Every reason. He's outwitted us.
Don't laugh!
He'll never break with Venice.
He'll never let you
march through Ferrara.
He only married me to gain time.
When he pretended to sing
in the garden, it was to gain time.
When he languished and lingered,
it was to gain time.
When he kissed me, it was to gain time.
Forget what you feel,
tell me what you know.
- Why must he gain time?
- He means to fight.
He's always meant to fight.
You've heard him speak of his Jupiter.
It's a cannon. A monster cannon.
Yours are no bigger than toys beside it.
Magnificence, a confidential courier
from Rome.
From my cousin of Mantua?
- Is Filippo with you?
- No, My Lord.
The lady regrets to inform you that
she's been unable to affect his escape.
- No chance remains?
- A slim one, My Lord.
To bribe the governor of the prison.
But the price is incredibly high.
The price is always high.
Come, sir,
I'll conduct you to the treasurer.
He will deliver you whatever is required.
What's this?
Halt! This man left his post.
In such times,
one man's failure to obey orders
can mean the end of Ferrara.
Hang him.
But, magnificence!
- Hang him!
- Forward.
- Please listen, magnificence.
- Silence!
The price is high.
- You saw only one?
- Yes.
- When was it cast?
- I don't know.
- You say it was still half in the mold?
- Yes, yes.
Then it can't possibly be ready
for action before my troops arrive.
They've been camped near Florence.
By forced marches,
they can get here in five days.
- War then?
- Your husband leaves me no choice.
Listen, five nights from tonight,
slip out by the river gate.
I'll have men hidden beside the road.
They'll escort you to my camp.
Meanwhile, continue
to play the tender wife.
Tenderness would be strange.
We've been at odds.
Do what you want,
so long as he suspects nothing.
Cesare.
A Borgia and afraid? Of what?
Are we evil, brother?
Are we what they say we are?
Sister, we live in an evil world.
A man must use every weapon
at his command.
In Ferrara,
I've seen a different kind of man.
- What man?
- My husband.
Which husband?
The murdered or the murderer?
I forgot Bisceglie.
How could I forget so soon?
You may have forgotten, sister, but not I.
- How long before the poison acts?
- Almost at once.
Farewell, sister.
My Lord Cesare. The advance
column flanks the towers of Ferrara.
- Halt.
- Halt.
Pitch camp in those fields.
Feed your men and commend them
for the swiftness of our march.
Yes, My Lord.
Advise Don Michelotto
to dispatch the men
who are to meet my sister
at the river gate.
- Have her brought directly to my tent.
- Yes, My Lord.
Meet me at the river gate
with a cloak at 11.
- But, Madonna...
- I must join my brother. Go now.
Is there no way of cooling it
more quickly, Vanetti?
No, magnificence.
If your magnificence could be
persuaded to take a night's rest...
You mean, Vanetti, that at such an hour,
a man should go home
to the arms of his loving wife.
- Magnificence.
- Yes?
A page outside the door beseeches you
to read this without delay.
I think I'll take your advice,
my friend. Goodnight.
Lucretia Borgia is yours.
For the rest of your life.
On my terms, Lucretia?
On your terms, I pledge myself.
And I pledge myself.
I drink to you and to Ferrara.
My Lucretia,
we owe ourselves so many lost hours.
The guilt is mine.
Had I but known my husband
as I know him now,
we would have drunk this pledge
much sooner.
A wife must wait and watch and learn.
Now you shall learn even more.
Come with me.
I know I've neglected you,
but necessity forced me to it.
I told you
I was preparing my answer to Cesare.
I am. Behind those foundry walls.
- Your Jupiter?
- No, Lucretia, a cannon.
A weapon so destructive,
1,000 Cesares would
not dare march against it.
You tell me this?
To a Borgia, it could only be Jupiter,
but to my wife
who rules Ferrara with me,
the foundry walls are glass.
You have such faith in me that you...
Love without faith...
Is not worthy of the name.
Between a man and his wife,
there should be no secrets.
Let me speak to the duke!
Magnificence! Magnificence!
Justice, My Lord Duke, justice.
Your pardon, magnificence.
He broke away.
We were taking him to be hanged.
My Lord Duke, beloved duchess,
hear me, I'm falsely condemned.
Stand back, the rest of you.
Well, what have you to say to us?
My Lord Duke,
I left my post only to tell you
I let someone enter the foundry.
Who was it?
The duchess, magnificence,
our own beloved duchess.
No harm could come of that.
- When?
- Last Sunday, five days ago.
Last Sunday...
Take him away.
Shall we proceed with the execution?
No, banish him.
God bless you, My Lord, God bless you.
Guard!
Paulie!
Do you hear?
Guard...
Magnificence!
Guard here, turn out the guards!
Get doctors. Run.
Find my wife.
I am Filippo Strozzi.
- Did you...
- He asked for the duchess.
But the duchess is gone, magnificence.
My lady commanded
an escort to the river gate.
Shall I send after her?
No matter now.
The Borgia attack has begun.
Ring the cathedral bell.
Close the gates. Man the walls!
Carry out the duke's orders.
To your posts!
That's how my cannon rang.
All my failures, hear them. One by one.
Enough.
- Drink this, My Lord.
- Your new antidote?
Alas, not yet tested, but I have faith in it.
And faith in itself is an antidote.
Now, take him up and
bear him to the fountain.
- I will have no part in this.
- No, nor I.
- No.
- Obey him.
Lay him into the water.
My Lord, we would plunge
your body into cold water.
The sudden shock may fortify your flesh,
much as we surgeons
temper our metal scalpels.
Temper the metal in cold water.
Suddenly.
The cannon that poured itself.
Vanetti! Vanetti!
Take care now. Take care.
Hold it clear of the moat.
Keep it headed straight.
Make firm those studs.
If you let it slip back into the moat,
I'll have you boiled in oil.
Easy, easy.
Good.
We rolled it into the moat
still hot, Vanetti.
The Roman's secret
may be ours at last.
My Lord.
I fear... I fear it.
We strike here,
one quick thrust at the river gate.
- Hammer it down?
- No, scale it.
- Once inside, it should be...
- A matter of minutes.
Perhaps, but never be too confident.
I wear full armor,
you should do the same.
Not worth it this time.
The only man in the place
was the duke, and he's a ghost.
Speak more considerately.
The duchess has undergone
great tribulations.
My deepest homage, duchess.
Come, sister, you did your part.
I did my part?
Hear me, Bisceglie, I did my part.
A soldier's tent is a
poor place for comfort.
- You need rest.
- Rest?
What is rest?
Our messieur Tiziano will distract you.
My Lord, the scouts have returned.
Let them report.
I'd stay with you myself, but as you see,
affairs prevent it.
You'll find our messieur Tiziano there.
Go on, my darling.
- Yes?
- Alarms in the city, My Lord Duke.
A great bell tolling.
- The death of the duke.
- And activity on the walls.
Our approach has been reported.
Madame Lucretia.
Sketching at a time like this.
What else can the poor artist do
and preserve his sanity, Madonna.
If great princes choose
to cut each other's throats,
that is none of my affair.
I'm concerned with art,
not with the world.
Cover it. Cover it!
It is covered, Madonna.
Perhaps my lady will
find this more interesting.
- How dare you.
- Dare what, gracious lady?
Paint a devil with my brother's features.
Forgive me, Madonna,
I paint what I see.
Then you are no artist.
This is the Cesare Borgia.
The slanderous,
little men jealous of his genius,
they know nothing of my brother,
his love for me, his kindness, his loyalty.
Look again, messieur Tiziano,
and redeem your reputation.
I trust Madonna will
find this more satisfactory.
Whose face is that?
Madonna, this is
messieur Filippo Strozzi,
the Duke Alfonso's personal physician.
That face is not his.
I should know him in a sea of faces.
Madonna, never say I failed twice.
This is how he stood
when first I saw him.
I poisoned my thumb
grinding lapis lazuli,
and in three days,
he sent me back to my brushes.
I tell you, that is not the man
who watched with me
at the prince's bedside.
That face is not his!
Then the man who watched with
you was not Filippo Strozzi.
- Madonna was imposed upon.
- But why?
Who brought an assassin
to my husband, calling him Filippo?
What devil...
Madonna...
You,
Cesare.
You used an assassin
to murder the boy who loved me.
And then used me to murder the man I...
Lucretia.
Yes?
Let me speak alone with the Madonna.
What is it, Cesare?
You've borne so much,
I hesitate to speak,
except it touches on your welfare.
Have things gone amiss?
No, not gone amiss.
But something troubles me.
What?
Ferrara now belongs to you.
But our advance has been
reported to them,
and there are signs
they will resist in force.
I'm reluctant to destroy your city,
kill your subjects.
Unfortunately, my plans
for Venice make it necessary.
Unless, of course,
we can devise some other means.
Remember my advice
to make the people love you?
Yes.
Did you?
Yes.
Then you can save your city
bloodshed and destruction.
How?
If you go back,
and when my heralds summon
their surrender at the river gate,
you appear upon the walls,
their widowed duchess,
blind with tears, to plead for mercy.
I'll grant it and march in,
not as a conqueror,
but as their ruler's
brother and protector.
My everlasting gratitude.
You know your happiness
is my first consideration.
I'll make arrangements
for your swift return.
Yes, Cesare, I'll go back.
- Madonna, I heard.
- He is gone, Tiziano.
But I will take your place,
and defend our city, if I die for it.
Open the gate
in the name of the duchess.
Open the gate for the duchess.
Captain of the Guard.
Call your officers to me at once.
Vanetti, stop!
Halt!
You wore your weeds too soon,
my willing widow.
I've been spared.
But death will not be cheated twice.
My life is over, My Lord,
do with it as you will.
Thank God you live.
And what Borgia purpose
now brings you back to us?
I return to defend your city.
The attack will come here
at the river gates.
- Set the cannon here.
- We thank you.
We are now convinced
the attack will not come here.
- Vanetti.
- No, My Lord, no.
I heard the plan made
in my brother's tent.
You ask me to believe
you would betray your brother?
My lord husband, until tonight,
I believed you killed Bisceglie.
Your ring was found in his hand.
But I know now who murdered him.
The attack will come at the river gate.
You must believe me
or Ferrara's doomed.
Guards, escort the duchess
to the tower room.
On to the south gate.
Forward!
- Halt.
- Halt!
People of Ferrara, in the name of
the high and mighty Cesare Borgia,
Duke of Valentino...
Release the duchess. Unhitch!
Place the cannon at the river gate.
Open your gates!
Now is the time for her
to appear on the walls.
Open your gates!
Quiet, Duke's orders.
Quiet, Duke's orders.
Where is she?
Why doesn't she answer him?
She will. She will.
Under the pain of My Lord's displeasure,
open the gates!
If they've harmed her...
- Sound the advance.
- Sound the advance!
The assembled command,
you have your orders.
Forward!
Halt!
Unhitch!
- Halt.
- Close up, close up, close up.
Bring out the chains!
Get up!
Cavalry to the front.
Fetch the powder and the ball.
Vanetti, wait. Cram it with iron scrap.
Bolts, lengths of chain. Hurry.
My Lord, I implore you,
nurse your strength.
Guards, to me. Loose these chains.
Scraps, bolts. Anything you can find.
- Powder's in?
- Yes, My Lord.
Out with it!
To the gate.
- Halt!
- Halt.
Halt!
- All loaded, My Lord.
- The fuse!
Ladders to the wall.
Get them all back.
Open the gate.
Back, everyone. Back, I say!
This cannon may blow us all to bits.
Get back!
Open the gate!
Surrender! The gates are opening.
Victory! Victory!
A cannon, a monster cannon!
The duke's alive and commands.
And, look. It's your sister.
- A trick! A trick!
- The devil...
Run, get back, and save yourselves.
Close the gates.
Reload. More chain, more iron.
Quickly, reload!
Powder, more here, more chain.
Halt. Halt!
Lord Borgia, he leads us to destruction!
- Forward. Forward.
- Cesare Borgia!
We're not beaten yet.
Form a column and attack.
It'll take them time to reload.
- Too late.
- Too late?
I cannot fight the stars.
Mine shines on me no longer.
Your star? That treacherous witch?
You may not want Ferrara, but I do.
I'll deal with that sister of yours.
If she was the devil's sister,
I'd deal with her.
So, you turn your back on your master.
Master?
Rally your men! Report to me for orders.
Master...
It's over, Michelotto, for both of us.
Farewell, sister.
Victory! Victory!
Long live the duke!
Life forever, Alfonso!
Madonna.
What does this mean,
My Lord? Mockery?
No, Lucretia.
This means love and faith, my darling.
Honor us, Your Highnesses.