The Borgias Ep. 3, The Moor - Recap

"Men have knobs. Women have fannies. Pop knob in fanny."

-Jeremy Irons

The clips used in the title sequence are starting to look a more familiar. I must say that my favourite is still the painting of a skull biting a distraught woman's chin.

Naples. Seabirds chirp, and Della Rovere strides down a lovely terrace looking terribly red. He is presented to his Royal Highness King [something - Fanta?] of Naples, and his teenaged son Prince Alfonso. Della Rovere bows low to both of them, and lets a very awkward few seconds go by before peeking up to check what's going on. King F has a head like a bean covered in stringy white hair and he glares at the proceedings with the general malaise of a homeless person. Alfonso starts cackling as if he were stoned and watching South Park. His haircut is the worst. When he finally gets himself under control, he stage whispers, "He can't hear you." Della Rovere straightens, nonplussed. "He's deaf as a post. Has been for years." Alfonso leans over and screams Della Rovere's reason for visiting into his father's right ear. "REMEMBER BORGIA?" The kid is nasally and British. "HE'S APPOINTED A VERITABLE CASCADE OF CARDINALS." He turns to Della Rovere and asks if "cascade" works, like a gaggle of geese or an army of ants, and when Della Rovere remains speechless he shrugs and sticks with "cascade". "Among them his son," Della Rovere adds, completely stumped. Alfonso duly translates. "CESARE BORGIA, REMEMBER HIM?" Judging by the way he basically spits all over his father's ear, Alfonso does. The King doesn't, or is a vegetable. "You see?" says Alfonso almost sadly. "He hears nothing.

Lunch time! Cesare recounts with a smile that Della Rovere has fled. To where? "I would hazard Naples." Rodrigo wins! He says something that sounds sarcastic about Naples' legendary hospitality, including King F's dining room. King Ferrante! Thanks Google! Cesare's heard rumours of said dining room. Well, this is a boring conversation on the surface. Wonder if anything will come of it. According to Rodrigo, Della Rovere has a massive victim complex; God knows (and DR doesn't) that the Church needs someone who can ensure its survival, "by whatever. means. necessary." Ummm, I know my history, mostly, and I don't really know what they're talking about in terms of the Church's imminent failure. It's not like attendance was down, and Martin Luther wasn't even a panic in Pope Leo's eye yet. Whatever. Moving on. Rodrigo asks Cesare if it's true that he's got someone "who can wield a good garrote?" Cesare looks kind of awkward and evasive. Fucking Michelotto can't keep himself secret for shit. Rodrigo muses that it might be time for "the good Cardinal's collar... to be replaced." Cesare rolls his eyes at the metaphor. Thank you, Cesare, for agreeing with me. Rodrigo gets all shirty - "With what does one replalce an ecclesiastic collar, my memory fails me..." he makes a big show of hemming and hawing and rubbing his temples until Cesare sighs that he gets it. Enter Juan! Rodrigo wipes his mouth throws his napkin on the table, and--

Naples. Wait, what!? Why did the bother to introduce Juan if they weren't going to have him do something hilarious? He's not a goddamn extra. Ok. Naples. Alfonso's still doing all the talking. "Want want want, everybody wants," he chastises. What he means is, everyone wants Naples, and everyone wants the New World. (On that note, hands off, motherfuckers.) What does Della Rovere want? "I merely [there's that merely!] want Naples to join an alliance with me to rid the Papacy--" "Of the stench of Borgia," Alfonso's haircut interrupts. Della Rovere smirks a bit and, without naming names, half-promises Naples' independence were he Pope (greedy), but according to Alfonso Naples is already independent. Della Rovere smarmily points out that Spain would disagree. Then Alfonso gets really smug, and shouts to Ferrante about how they should show Della Rovere what they would do to the likes of Spain. The King rotates his bean head toward his son with a terrified expression on his face. "You see, he does remember! WHAT DOES HE REMEMBER?" He seriously sounds like Alex DeLarge with a sinus infection. Della Rovere goes "I am at a loss to say, and also I have wet myself with fear." Alfonso sits back and pops a grape into his mouth. "He remembers cruelty," he says in a way that's kind of heartbreaking and makes me feel incredibly sorry for him. Della Rovere doesn't pick up on it and just stands there smirking. Alfonso gets up and gestures him to follow. Della Rovere remembers to bow to Beanhead before he leaves. Alfonso may be one of the best-written, best-acted characters so far.

Juan! Yay! He sizes up Giulia Farnese's new portrait (we don't get a great shot, but it's a bit meh) and asks Cesare when he's getting his done. Cesare waves it away. Juan teases him some more about being a cleric. Well, as a soldier, he's certainly getting his done because the public demands it or some shit. Whatever you say, Steve. Rodrigo jokes that Pinturicchio's going to run out of paint. As a parent, shouldn't he have smacked Juan upside the head at least twice already? "And we must pay for this extravagance," he says, cuffing Juan's arm. Oh good, so Juan does get a bit of the physical abuse he deserves. Cesare sardonically asks when they became destitute. "There's never enough," Rodrigo grumbles as he adjusts his velvet panties.

History lesson! "Queen Isabella has rather precipitously expelled all the Jews from Spain," says Rodrigo conversationally. Apparently the Spanish Jews are a bit of a sore spot for them, especially Juan, since the Romans have "insultingly" insinuated that Borgia and his issue are of them, "Marranos", but Rodrigo "comfortingly" assures Juan that there is not a drop of Jewish blood in him. And then, in a most human moment, Rodrigo reveals that he sympathizes with them, given his status as a stranger in a foreign land as well. "The Chosen People," Cesare smarms, and Juan giggles like it was a punchline. As though he was talking to a five-year-old, Cesare warns his father that there will be objections, which Rodrigo obviously knows. But he wants his papacy to be like "Joseph's coat of many colours", whatever the fuck that means, and besides, Jesus himself was a Jew. "He was also killed by Jews, Father," says Juan. "Every single Jew that ever was or ever will be killed him personally. That's how it went, right?" "Are you sure?" says Rodrigo. "I thought he was crucified by Romans." They all laugh, and actually in this context it is pretty witty.

Alfonso and Della Rovere are still walking. Biiig palace. He tells him that Ferrante had many adversaries, all of whom came to sing his praises at some point. They enter a dark room. Alfonso throws open the shutters. Della Rovere squints a bit against the sunlight. Flies buzz. "When they could sing no more, he had them stuffed." He opens another window, and BOOM CORPSES. Nasty grey dried-out corpses sitting around a dining table. So THIS is the dining room Rodrigo and Chezz were talking about! It's the worst. Some show huge black seams where the skull was removed. Some have tiny wee skeleton fingers. One looks fresher than the others and the pits on his fingers are still shiny with blood. Wait, how recently was Ferrante still at it? Della Rovere presses his velvet-gloved hand into his mouth to keep from barfing, as do I. Alfonso laughs. Apparently, of all the people Ferrante's taken down, "he has yet to find his Judas." He leans on the table between two of the wretched things. So, is this sort of what Della Rovere had in mind for Borgia? "My intentions were not quite so... severe, Your Highness," says Della Rovere with a hint of anger, walking towards him and the Table of Eternal Despair. Why is he walking toward the Table of Eternal Despair!? That's either thoughtless direction or Della Rovere is FUCKED UP. Alfonso asks why, "They're Marranos." Hm, convenient episode for that line. Della Rovere almost scolds him. "Scruples, they may have none. Jewish blood, they have even less of." Chrissake. So Rodrigo's redeeming quality is that he's 100% goy? I mean, I know, I know. History. 'Kay. Mindset. Moving on. "You're sure?" says Alfonso. "Then maybe they deserve the Papacy." I think I like what he's insinuating, and I think I'm inclined to agree. Alfonso promises to discuss it with his father's advisors and invites Della Rovere to enjoy their "hospitality". RUN BITCH! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! "One of our sulfur baths," he amends. Della Roro smiles a bit self-deprecatingly, clearly having had the same thought as this recapper. "Might improve Your Eminence's temper. Good for the skin," he adds, stroking a bald corpse on the head. The sound is like paper. Alfonso giggles a bit at his reaction and continues giggling as he leaves the room. I think I might love Alfonso a lot.

Chez Rovere. Servants carry a lot of pretty things down a corridor, including one with an armful of gold candlesticks. "See that they're wrangled by Miss Scarlet in the Kitchen," says Cesare, who is apparently looting the shit out of his mansion. Michelotto, who I absolutely did not see, which was either genius direction or a happy fluke, informs him that Della Rovere is definitely in Naples. Cesare brings up Rodrigo's bit about the collar. Michelotto points out that he's not exactly anonymous anymore. "Stay in the shadows, then," Cesare suggests. "Isn't that where you're happiest?" Fuckin'... Cesare, sweetie, if Michelotto turns down a killing, you know that's the right way to go. Michelotto loves killing more than a fat kid loves ice cream cake. Cesare leans in close and admits that he's never seen a garrote. "It's just a cheese cutter, my lord." Hah! You think Chezzie's ever cut his own cheese? Spoiler alert: he hasn't. Also, he wants to see it in action.

So cut to the kitchen, where Michelotto neatly halves a watermelon with a length of wire. Cesare's like WHAAAAAAA? It's made him happier than anything we've seen so far. "One almost feels pity for the man." Then they presumably pass a lovely afternoon with watermelon in the sun.

Juan, on a horse, in full armour (still no bull), surrounded by holy shit so many candles, and servants holding candles on top of that. Juan whines that Rodrigo deems Leonardo too expensive (which is actually a good bit of historical context, and well placed, bravo writers). And he never finishes, adds Pinturicchio. "We would finish for me," he dicks. "Though we will show that Milanese mirror painter what true highlights should look like." Then he whips his sword toward the servant at his right leg. "Raise it," he commands angrily, "'til the armour glitters." The servant obliges. I was about to chastise Juan for being a dick to an unarmed employee, but then I remembered the servant is holding something that is literally on fire. Burn the bastard.

Near the coast, Michelotto pauses for a moment to take in the sight and glare a bit before spurring on his horse with an angry "HUH!"

In his sleep, Della Rovere raises his hand to his throat. HE KNOWS!

The peopledolls snooze around the Table of Eternal Despair. Michelotto gazes at them all with something approaching serenity.

Della Rovere moans in his sleep.

Michelotto paces the darkened corridors. He happens upon two soldiers drinking slash gambling and just generally being the stereotypical terrible guards we all know and appreciate in historical dramas such as this.

A tailor with a terrible toupee is fitting Cesare for his Cardinal robes. Rodrigo pauses in the doorway, beaming. Cesare greets him extremely coldly. Rodrigo warns him against... something... Let's be clear, I adore Jeremy Irons' performance, but his diction can be absolutely atrocious, and I think everyone's too scared to correct his pronunciation of certain Italian or Latin words. Anyway. Cesare suggests that sin of which Rodrigo speaks is called "despair". Rodrigo seems genuinely stricken by this, and he begs Cesare to hug him. Cesare's arms just sort of hang there awkwardly as Rodrigo apologizes for his ambition. then he spells out just how bad he feels about having accepted a career in the Church and thus having to insist on Cesare following in his footsteps. He begs his son to accept it. There's a moment where it's clear Cesare is seriously considering taking this as his chance, but ultimately the consequences of his quitting outweigh the benefits and he says "I accept" like it's the hardest thing he's ever had to do. Rodrigo kisses his son's forehead and presses him to his cheek. He looks sad. Cesare looks like he just pooped his diaper and isn't going to tell anyone out of spite.

Sulphur baths! Alfonso and Della Rovere are getting rubbed down, Alfonso wearing some sort of mud mask that makes him look like a very whiny ninja. He brags that the beauty of southern Italy has historically attracted potential invaders left right and center, and that good ol' Bean Head (or Testafagioli, if you will) has been able to keep them at bay. Historically. Anyway, Alfonso's been talking to his advisors. They're considering it. Alf guesses that Bean Head is going to die soon, and, if he could get his mental shit together to confess, he'd rather it be to a Pope (I mean, what with all that cardinal sinning) and he'd rather it be a Christian one. Della Rovere's still not pleased with all this implication of Judaism. Wow, it's like a Renaissance version of the awkwardly racist boss! "ENOUGH," Alfonso hollers at his masseuse, right through his nose. He sounds like a toy siren. He invites Della Rovere to "immerse himself". Soft waters soothe the spirit. "We'll all of us be dead soon enough." "I will, with your permission," Della Rovere calls as Alf swans off. Ooh, foreshadowing! He turns to his masseuse and sighs, "Thuh-hank you," which is nice of him. Also, YAY TIGHTY WHITEYS!

Elsewhere in the bath, Michelotto is himself getting rubbed down. A large man who could be accomplishing more with his life smears thick clay all over Mick's face and body. He turns, exposing his back full of white scars (again, looking different than before) and asks him to cover them too. Which he obligingly does. Now Michelotto doesn't look scary at all. Except he's the only one thus smeared. Dammit, this is NOT what Cesare meant by "staying in the shadows", if he'd wanted to paint you black he probably would have done it himself.

Vatican. The line of cardinals to be ordained walks down the aisle of St. Peter's. We can only see the backs of their heads, but it's like white haired, bald, mousy brunette, white and bald, mousy brunette and bald, FRANÇOIS ARNAUD'S RIDICULOUS AND AMAZING WIG, white, mousy brunette, bald bald bald. When François Arnaud and I start dating, I will buy that wig and make him wear it always. Rodrigo's sitting up front under his hilarious metal beehive. Those must be the worst shooting days for Jeremy Irons. I can't wait for his DVD commentary. Cesare kneels and kisses first Rodrigo's white leather cowboy boots and then his huge ring that would fuck you up if he punched you while wearing it. He hesitantly looks up at his father, who smiles just a little bit. Cesare deserves so much for doing this. Like his own villa, or his own brothel or something.

Woohoo! Establishing shot of Colm Feore's schmexy white legs stepping down into the hotspring! Panties! Yay! I guess old Italian men always had a thing for wearing too little clothing in steamy situations. Michelotto walks out of the shadows (no, stay in the shadows, you dolt) looking like a barbarian assassin. His bulge is biggest, unless that's where he's hiding the cheese cutter. Della Rovere plays Marco Polo with some of his new friends, unaware that danger lurks. Michelotto drops his towel; the garrote is wrapped around his wrist and hand. So the bulge is all him, then. He got the mudman to cover his ginger hair too.

The cardinals are lying prostrate in a wide circle while Rodrigo pontificates on the significance of the red. He continues in voiceover while Michelotto slips into the water. He preps the garrote under water and turns his back to Della Rovere. Only, jokes on your stupid ass, the mud's washed off his back and nowhere else! Della Rovere recognizes it immediately. Flashback of his dickish lemon-juicing all over the open wounds. "GUARDS! An assassin! The man in there with the scarred back!" He leaps out. A guard pulls him back. His panties are fully see-through. Everyone leaves semi-calmly. Now the only one in danger is dear Micky. A guard pushes him back from the edge and leaps in, full armour and all, strangling him against the pool floor. So Michelotto simply jams his thumbs into the dude's eyes, and I have momentary high hopes that I'm going to see some sweet Lear-esque eye-plucking action, but no, Mick was just using it as a distraction so he could reverse their positions and start banging the guard's big head into the floor. His helmet came off when he jumped in, I guess. Probably also his bikini top. Michelotto looks around, sees the garrote floating on the surface, grabs it, and puts it to use. Blood blossoms up as Gregorian chanting plays, like the title sequence, red as Cesare's new robes. Back in the Vatican, the new Cardinals rise, finally ordained.

Back at the hotsprings, people run literally in all directions. Which seems odd, since every public pool I've ever been to had only the one exit and entrance. Careless direction? Michelotto breaks the neck of one of the guards, steals his sword, stabs another guard, and continues on his merry way. What a fucking moron. "Hey Clicky, what's the worst place to carry out an assassination plan?" "For many, many reasons, I would have to say a public pool with one exit and nowhere to hide." Alfonso is similarly furious with Della Rovere. "YOU BRING CARNAGE IN YOUR WAY, CARDINAL. ABSOLUTE CARNAGE. THERE'S NO NEED OF CARNAGE. THERE'S NO! NEED! OF CARNAGE!" Then he orders him out of Naples on pain of the Table of Eternal Despair, shrieking the whole freaking time. In the center of the pool, the first dead guard floats back-up, blood still rippling out from his neck.

Cesare feeds his pigeons in his new robes. "So, you failed," he glumly tells Michelotto, skulking just off camera. "Is that a first?" Michelotto whines something that basically amounts to "no", and addresses Cesare as "My Lord." Chezz asks Trump-style if he should fire Michelotto. "It was a public baths," he says, like that's an excuse, like he didn't pick the location. "My Lord." Big mistake. "I'm Your Eminence, now," he spits. "Haven't you noticed?" Touched a nerve, Mick. "Your Eminence, it was a public baths," he repeats. Man, this guy. So thus far Della Rovere has seemed to be immune to corruption. So Cesare orders to have him followed. But not by Michelotto. "And no more cheese cutting," he adds. "I can’t stand the smell.” Geddit?

Michelotto the Cheese cutter – Silent but Deadly. Geddit?

Rodrigo and Giulia Farnese canoodle and stare at the growing wall of portraits. Giulia, Lucrezia, Vanozza, and Juan on his horse. Juan wanted Leonardo, Rodrigo tells Giulia. She guesses he declined. "We have not yet acquired the wealth of a Florentine bank," he jokes, setting up the Medicis for a future episode. "My lord," calls a male voice, and in walks Cesare. Giulia immediately breaks away from Rodrigo and heads to the door (wise), but Rodrigo calls her back, asking for advice on "matters." "Of state," snaps Cesare. The Sultan of Constantinople has requested that the Borgia family shelter his half-brother Djem for a bit. "As hostage?" snarks Cesare, reclining in a window seat. Jeremy Irons delivers another one of my favourite moments as he waffles, "We-bauhh auhh auhh, as foster." Of course, it would remove the threat of succession. He would pay 40,000 ducats a year, and "God knows we need the cash." HAVE. A. GARAGE SALE. I don't... like... this is the thing with the Vatican, even today, if they sold off every work of art in their collection, or even offered rich fucks the opportunity to put their names near them, they would have the capital to solve like so many of the world's problems. And then who's Catholic? EVERYBODY. But I digress. He asks Giulia's advice. "He's a heathen?" "Well, he's a Moselman." (Pronounced "muscleman" which is hilar.) "He prays, to Allah." Giulia seems genuinely disgusted that he would invite a non-Christian to Rome. Fun fact, did you know Mary's name appears in the Koran more than in the Christian bible? Anyway. Cesare shocks Giulia furthur by revealing Rodrigo's crazy idea of letting Jewish people into Rome while Rodrigo sits there with a goofy smile and doing, I swear to god, an unintentional finger sex gesture. I love Jeremy Irons the most. Rodrigo argues that "We are all human, are we not? Under the same God?" Sometimes Rodrigo is decent. For about ten seconds. According to Giulia, there are many who would disagree, including her, probably.

Vatican. A voice announces, "The great Sultan Bayezid II presents his brother Djem to be ambassador to the court of the Pope of Rome." With the end goal, of course, being peace, concord, and military alliance. "For 40,000 ducats per annum," mutters Cesare in to Juan's ear. "Mohammed and your Jesus Christ were brothers, after all," says the herald. Djem is really young- and sad-looking, all nervous under his huge turban.

The boys, including Djem, ride through the lovely countryside to the best picnic ever, where Lucrezia is already waiting (at the table under the canopy). They've been hunting, apparently. Djem thinks stags are small potatoes compared to the white tigers he hunted in the Persian foothills. Lucrezia is delighted that tigers come in white. "In all colours, my lady. White, yellow, brown... why, I have even had a tiger striped." Lucrezia is absolutely shocked and awed at the existence of a striped tiger, which is kind of adorable. "I killed one with my bare hands," Djem insists. She asks if he's seen a unicorn. He claims to have spoken with them, "in a meter known only to Allah." The Borgia boys seem almost as charmed as Lucrezia.

Later, Juan leads Djem through a bustling square. There's an old-timey temple type dude from Life of Brian in the background, and a few veiled women. Djem almost feels at home here with all the races and costumes. Juan tells him they're the Marranos. "And they're welcome here?" Rodrigo's open-minded, says Juan, especially when he's paid to be so. Djem's like Whaaaa, they're paying!? Juan's like does that shock you? And Djem warms my and Juan's heart when he insists that, yes, his brother covers the expenses of his stay, but the hospitality he's experienced is priceless. Juan claps him on the shoulder affectionately and they continue on their way.

Rodrigo watches Lucrezia dance around a fiddler, half-hidden behind a doorway. Vanossa approaches him. "She's growing, Rodrigo. May I still call you Rodrigo?" "You may not, Madam," he mumbles. How about me, can I still call you Rodrigo? She bitches fantastically, "What am I to call you then, Father Of My Children?" BABY MAMA DRAMA! Vanossa swallows the most jagged pill ever and repeats, "She is growing, Your Holiness." And that's why Rodrigo's here, is it not? He calls her "my dear," and she's grimly satisfied that she's still his "dear", and he goes "always" but I don't think he really means it. Aaaand Lucrezia must get married. Soon. "The vultures are circling our family." "Must we marry her to a vulture then?" asks Lucrezia. Vanossa asks him to promise her that Lucrezia can meet her betrothed before she's "bartered like a golden calf." He doesn't answer.

Croquet! ...has apparently always sucked. But Lucrezia seems to be enjoying it. She asks Djem if he's heard the news, and he's like "which news, my Twitter is absolutely blowing up." Her news. She's to be married. "Oh, my dear," he says with a not-entirely-happy smile. His voice is deep and sexy. She asks if he's been married. Oh, only four wives so far. "FOUR!?" shrieks Lucrezia. According to Djem, he can have as many wives as "Allah sees fit to provide", and an infinite number of concubines. Lucrezia is surprised, but completely undeterred from the croquet game that no-one but her is enjoying. She asks what the difference is between wife and concubine, another question that's either smart or stupid. "No difference really... Ah. You can beat a wife but not kill her." "You can kill a concubine?" Lucrezia asks, disturbed. Yes, dear, ask your brother. Oh, you can kill a wife too, but "the displeasure must be grave." "I will not be beaten, Djem," says Lucrezia powerfully. Djem is shocked at the very thought. He promises that, if a husband tries to beat her, "I, Djem, will strangle him with my bear hands." She gives a half-smile. She is smitten, I think. Actually, so am I.

Rodrigo barges into the office and dumps a sheaf of paper before Cesare, complaining about the absolute bounty of suitors and dearth of suitable suitors. Only an Italian makes strategic sense, and only four Italians are worth considering. Cesare reads. "Colonna, Sforza, Medici..." "Deste," Rodrigo adds from the dressing room where he's getting stripped down. Deste's out, I can tell you that already, I don't even recognize his name. Fuck that. "What of Alfonso of Naples?" suggests Cesare. YES! YES! Bring back Alfonso! Bring. Back. Alfonso. Bring. Back. Alfonso. I shall get it inscribed on a foam finger. Rodrigo's like "Ohhh... he would be ideal." So we're in agreement! But given that both France and Spain are after Naples, and they're both stronger than Italy, it won't work, for some reason. So, fuck.

Courtyard. Juan and Djem spar, laughing like kids. Djem's scimitar is kicking Juan's sword's ass. Cesare, back in his red robes, watches. Rodrigo joins him, laughing. "Seems like Juan's found a brother," he muses, eating olives. Dickish thing to say. Cesare agrees. "How should I put it... a brother in arms," says Rodrigo, thinking he's being all clever. Cesare's like fuuuuuuuuck yooooooouuuuu. We all saw him saving Juan's ass in episode 1. Djem finally gets Juan pinned, but smilingly assures him, "Do not worry, my Christian brother, I would never do you harm. I love you." AWWWW. "More, more!" Rodrigo orders. I thought this was after gladiators. "Forty thousand ducats," Cesare muses. "If he lives," says Rodrigo. "Hm?" If he dies, and his body is delivered to his shitty Sultan brother, 400,000. Rodrigo swears he would never, he's just passing on down the information. He smiles at the bros and leaves. Cesare's like well, given the way things are going here, I guess it's time for me to don my killing pants.

Later, Rodrigo in his Santa robes takes a turn about the throne room with a very pretty and smooth-voiced lady, Cardinal Sforza dawdling behind them. She reasons that if the Sforza and Borgia families were to unite, central Italy would be secure, and their cousin Ludovico Sforza of Milan would ally with their interests. Lucrezia's sitting awkwardly nearby in a big red chair and big pink dress. COLOUR CLASH. Rodrigo gazes proudly at her. Lady Sforza (I assume) tells him, in the most polite terms possible, that no further contract between him and Giovanni Sforza (the lucky man, I guess) would be possible without a dowry agreement posthaste. Rodrigo's like ahhhh you want my money? ...That's... fine! Heh! She hints that the dowry's gonna have to be, like, huge. Rodrigo gets his worried face on. Comedy orchestral music begins. Cue montage!

A short stocky man stands before Rodrigo and, in the most boring way possible, lists his pedigree. Rodrigo's like get me out of here. Djem joins Lucrezia where she's listening by a door; she turns to him and pretends to yawn.

Cardinal Colonna presents his very age-appropriate nephew, who sports the absolute worst haircut we've seen on this show yet. He's also got a whacky nose and a goofy smile. I kind of love him. Rodrigo doesn't. He exchanges glances with Sforza. Colonna gets the hint and hustles the kid off to one side.

Some dude with an accent presents a blond prince, cute in a round, confused sort of way, and promises him that there's no barrier to his succession since his elder brother is confined to a "nut house". Right on cue, Prince Pudge twitches. "Perhaps it runs in the family," Rodrigo duhs.

A Venetian ambassador tries to sell Rodrigo on getting in on some of that sweet navy action. Rodrigo agrees, but "isn't he somewhat... young?" On the other side of the doorway, the young suitor, all of nine years old (maybe), dances with Lucrezia. She's laughing, but he's definitely in the "friend zone." Venice Guy laughs nervously.

Lucrezia laughs at her wee dance partner. "I think he's deaf," she jokes to Djem. "Are you deaf?" she asks the boy. He shakes his head, confused. "Dance with me, then," says Djem taking her other hand. He pulls her away. They dance all modestly, casting glances. He spins her. She laughs. They bring their hands together. It's kind of really hot. Rodrigo notices. Nooooo!

Some nameless Cardinal escorts a bunch of suitors out. Lucrezia watches them go. She turns to Cesare and asks if she has to get married. He says, no, she can take the cloth like him, become like Abelard and Heloïse. Meaning, I assume, he is Abelard and she is Heloïse. She unknowingly teases him by promising that she will never love a husband as she loves him. He reminds her that the Pope is not so much concerned about that. "So love and marriage..." she asks. "Are they incompatible?" No, but they don't really go together like a horse and carriage. She thinks it's sad. He thinks life in general is sad. So what if her husband sucks, she asks? Cesare starts getting really throaty. He leans too close and whispers, "I shall cut his heart out with a dinner knife." He pushes her up against a column. She laughs. "And serve it to you." There's a tiny moment when she suddenly realizes that he's not playing, and then she realizes that she may be ok with that. And he moves closer to her a fraction of an inch. And then--

Cesare joins Rodrigo in his dressing room. OH, FUCK OFF, SHOW. Fine. Tease me. Be that way. Ok. Rodrigo thinks Sforza's the one. Della Rovere's heading north now, so if the Borgias and Sforzas unite, Ludovico Sforza will bar him from Milan. I wish they'd show us all this instead of telling us, because I'll fully admit I pretty much zoned out during all these talky bits the first time I watched. Anyway, Sforza seems dece, not unlike Juan, apparently. Rodrigo approves, Vanossa approves - "Must I ask again?" Cesare interrupts. "What of Lucrezia? Her feelings?" "YOU WILL NOT ASK AGAIN!" Rodrigo spits, finally losing his patience with Cesare's stupid "caring" etc. Cesare's like "fuck this noise", but Rodrigo stops him. "The heathen overstays his welcome," he hisses. He danced with Lucrezia. Cesare's like "So?" Send him home? Silly boy. $$. There is the matter of a dowry. Cesare's like good thing I put on my killing pants.

Juan catches up with Cesare and asks if he can borrow his "manservant" Michelotto. Cesare sighs. "Is our father that short of funds?" GARAGE SALE MOTHERFUCKERS. Cesare won't give Mick up. Lucrezia loves Djem, and Cesare loves Lucrezia. "She would miss him at her wedding." Juan threatens to take his business elsewhere. Cesare's like why don't you do that and leaves all pissily.

Later in the kitchen, a cook goes over with Juan the extreme measures taken to prepare Djem's food. What about his drink? Tea, and Cantarella and sugar don't always mix. (I just looked it up, and apparently Cantarella is the most notorious Borgia poison. Kewl.) Juan's asks for him to please spare the cooking lesson and get the job done.

Later, Cesare plunks himself into the confessional and grumpily asks the confessor to begin. It's Djem! Awkward! And he wants to convert to Christianity. Cesare is absolutely floored. Djem earnestly insists that it's because of the kindness that Christians have shown him. In the words of the indomitable Sassy Gay Friend, "Save it, Patty Hearst, I'm not buying any Stockholm Syndrome." He's been reading the gospels, apparently, and is quite taken with all the general love going on. Well, fine, but isn't that sort of the deal with any religion? Including Islam? Because Charity as a central value would sound good to just about anyone. Cesare agrees. "You might find, dear Djem, that we are not always so kind." Holla.

In Orsini's I mean Giulia's palace, Lucrezia is getting sewn into another pretty light blue dress. Giulia tosses aside a swatch of white with a sigh, asking why so dull. Lucrezia thinks a wedding dress should be white, which is a tradition that started with Queen Victoria doncha know. Giulia circles Lucrezia, giuding her hands into different dancing poses. It's kind of cute. She tells her that the dress is not for her wedding, but for her betrothal, and given the size of her dowry, it should be made of solid gold. Pointless scene.

This next one isn't. In her new dress, Lucrezia stands with Djem's hands over her eyes with her two elder brothers. Heyyy, where's Gioffre in all this? I like him. "Open," Djem instructs. The eastern-inspired orchestration prepares us for what could be the coolest betrothal present: a Persian picnic in their very own courtyard, with awesome canopies and rugs and f'ing PEACOCKS and servants all over the place. A musician plucks at a stringed instrument. The four crazy kids recline on big cushions under the canopy. Djem calls for food. Stuffed grape leaves, by the looks of it, which are the best, can we all agree? Lucrezia's a little surprised at eating with her fingers. I was about to call bullshit, but apparently Italy caught onto the fork quite early compared with the rest of Europe. And thanks to Wikipedia I now know that there's something called a "chip fork", intended only for french fries. WHAT. But again I digress. Cesare opts for an olive. Boring! Djem gets into another monologue about the siblings' incredible kindness. "You're leaving us soon?" says Cesare hopefully. Never, if Djem can help it. Cesare can't meet his eye. Juan is totally fine. Djem talks about how cruel the Ottoman court can be, they probably couldn't even imagine it. Cesare: "I have a good imagination." Djem nods, like "You think so," and then tells a charming anecdote about his brother ordering the eyes of all his male relatives on a silver platter. Oh, Bayezid, that card. 22 men in all. "That's 44 eyes," Lucrezia maths. Juan just thinks it's clever. They all drink to kindness, and to Lucrezia's future happiness. Put the tea down, Djem! PUT. THE TEA. DOWN. He doesn’t

And then they play Bocce with crystal balls. Because of course they do. Djem starts to say something else really kind but is interrupted by the fountain of blood issuing from his mouth, all over Cesare's nice robes. Good thing they're red too. Djem collapses, apologizing all the way down for ruining Cesare's attire.

That night, Djem lies on his bed, screaming and writhing in agony. He screams for Cesare, who is currently slapping the shit out of Juan for hiring an amateur. Yeah, this is a botch job if I ever saw one. "You forbade me your professional," Juan bitches.

Cesare goes to Djem and cradles his sweaty face. It's so sad. Djem knows he's been poisoned. By his brother. Working through his African servant. Cesare asks him if he's sure. Djem swears it, "with Christ as my witness." Awk-ward. Juan, listening at the door, calls the guards. Cesare kisses Djem's forehead. The servant is dragged away kicking and screaming.

Later: an emergency meeting in the kitchen with the brothers, the amateur, and the professional. The cantarella was mixed into the sugar, according to the cook, which his servant then unwittingly mixed with the tea. "Then he will be in agony for weeks," says Michelotto grimly. Cesare orders Michelotto to take the cook somewhere safe. After they leave, Cesare tells Juan to finish what he started; he will clear the corridor of guards. Djem's screams echo through the entire palace.

Juan and Cesare are just ouside the entrance to Djem's room, having dismissed the guard. Cesare counsels him to "take a breath". Djem screams for Cesare.

The cook and Michelotto are walking side-by-side. Cook asks almost conversationally, "You would not recommend cantarella?" "Not with sugar, my friend," says Mick, before snatching him aside and breaking his neck. Crack. Cook's limbs go slack.

Juan enters Djem's room. Djem reaches for his hand. He asks to be comforted. Juan sits on his bed. He hugs a pillow. Djem says something in his mother tongue. Juan rises to do it. Djem realizes what's going on. "You?" Djem fights while Juan smothers the Moor. It's like a reverse Othello. For a moment, we get to see Remorseful Juan, and it's really sad.

Juan rejoins Cesare in the hall. He looks beat. "So our sister's dowry is done," says Cesare ruefully. Juan turns and walks off. "Here endeth the first lesson," says Cesare to his back. Djem lies sprawled on his bed, eyes open.

                   

Nerdo McPious's voice (yay!) narrates the sum total of blood money. Dr. McPious himself signs off on it while Djem's gold filigree coffin is carried out.

                   

Rodrigo kneels before his altar, praying that he made the right decision for Lucrezia.

                   

Spoiler alert: he didn't.

Credits.