The Borgias Ep. 4, Lucrezia's Wedding - Recap

This isn't funny.

DO NOT GET MARRIED IN RENAISSANCE ROME.

We open on black-clad Uncle Fester scream-preaching at a bunch of veiled women and the occasional dude in yet another lovely marble hall - my spidey senses tell me this is Girolamo Savonarola, a Florentine monk, fire fetishist, and historical buzzkill. Cardinal Della Rovere, also in black, pushes through to the front of the crowd, looking up at Uncle F with either admiration or fear - and given Della Rovere's buzzkilling expertise, I'm going with admiration. Uncle Fester is blaming the current audience on Rodrigo's election, which, come on, we all saw how it went down, that's just abusive. Surely you can find something that's actually their fault to scold them about.

Back in Rome, Lucrezia is sweating it out (literally) in her golden bed. Cesare strikes a very imposing figure with his black cleric's robe against the golden wall hangings. Lucrezia frets that she's caught a something-or-the-other; Cesare caresses her hand and suggests that she's "sick of heartbreak". Djem's death is still clearly a sore spot for both of them, for different reasons. Lucrezia asks if it's true that his estate payed for her dowry; Cesare avoids the question. If it is so, Lucrezia insists she could never marry Giovanni Sforza, "no matter how handsome he is." "Who told you he was handsome?" Cesare deadpans. Lucrezia laughs ruefully. She makes Cesare repeat how Djem died - Swamp Fever - and looks only mostly convinced. "A mosquito killed my Moor?" Calm down, Desdemona. She mutters half-hopefully about maybe the same mosquito bit her, and then asks, "You would not lie to me, would you Cesare?" Cesare's like "Uhhh..." Then he makes out with her hand and she does not mind one bit. You guys, I think today might be the day the incest happens...

Rodrigo looks worse than Lucrezia as he frets in the corner. Vanossa tells him to chill out, that the illness is "less in her body than in her heart". I mean, if it's her heart, there should probably be a more general panic going, since I'm pretty sure open-heart surgery back then was more of a preferred method of murder than a treatment. Vanossa lists the things that could be stressing poor Lucrezia out, including "La Bella Farnese", but Rodrigo starts to get pissy, so she clumsily changes the subject to the wedding - "...and we'll both watch her walk up the aisle of St. Peter's." In case you didn't read the episode description, this is where the awkward moment starts and it will not end until one of them dies. Rodrigo goes "'Fraid not," and Vanossa's like "Seriously, it's just a bug, she'll be fine after some Campbell's and a few episodes of The Gilmore Girls," and then Rodrigo's like "Don't be dumb, I'm talking about the episode arc. The Sforzas are going to be the secondary villains from here on in, so they've mandated that, as a former courtesan, you be barred from attending your own daughter's wedding because Italy sucked pretty much until 1950." Vanossa starts to flip in the most elegant way possible while Rodrigo just keeps talking, and then she totally Padmés "YOU'RE BREAKING MY HEART!" Rodrigo goes, "Well, if you're going to quote that shitpile of a movie at me, I see no need to continue this conversation," and stabs her. Actually, he just shrugs and whimpers "I will make it up to you," and she's like, "How?" How indeed.

Cesare strides out into the courtyard, where a creepy mofo in a cowl stands waiting for him, Michelotto lurking in the background. I mean, man, the dude can not do anything but lurk. You could put him in the center of an arena and shine five spotlights on him and even still he'd be lurking whatever's happening off in the corner. Cesare goes, "What is he?" And Michelotto's like, "White." And Cesare goes, "Benedictine or Franciscan?" and Michelotto's like, "Ohhh that. Right. Yeah, Mendicant." Cesare points out the lack of a begging bowl. Michelotto whines, "He has yet to find one." This dude must have aced Lurking and Whining class at theatre school. Cesare's like, "Well, check the props closet first, and if not I usually have luck at Value Village, make sure you turn in your receipt." Cesare mandates that Cowlface go to Florence and act as a spy. "Then no killing?" Michelotto whines. Cesare's like, "No, not since you shat the bed in Naples." Michelotto pouts and whines a bit more. Then Cesare asks the monk's name. Michelotto pulls off the cowel to reveal... no one we've ever seen before (superlatively anticlimactic), although there are some scars that are kind of nifty, and the monk introduces himself as Giancarlo. Cesare kind of smirks and prods the guy's biggest scar, reminds him to keep his face hidden, and then does that chin push thing that's almost more insulting than if he'd straight-up slapped him. You guys, Cesare's a dick.

Back in Giulia Farnese's boudoir, a very pale Lucrezia is being fitted for her wedding dress. It's quite pretty, white and gold like everything else she owns, and I look forward to her inevitable loss of innocence and accompanying wardrobe switch to gothy red and black. Giulia comments on her pallor, and Lucrezia explains, "My dusky friend inhabits my dreams." Once you go brown... Giulia politely asks her to STFU about Djem. Lucrezia forges ahead, describing said, dreams, in which Djem "has a secret that he cannot speak - his beautiful dark mouth opens but no sounds come out." Giulia tries to look interested. "And I have to kiss those lips to comfort them." "Oh, dear," Giulia finally sighs, throwing aside the sleeve she'd been fiddling with. Lucrezia asks if it's "permissible" to kiss a dead Moor in her dreams, to which Giulia replies that dreams are a free-for-all. Giulia's dress is this delicious aubergine, and she shows it off as she gets up to spin Lucrezia and complement her beauty and just generally change the subject. Lucrezia admits she could be happy in her dress (dream big, sweetie), but "I shall need lessons in kissing." Sigh. Here we go.

Back in the scheming room, Rodrigo and Cesare are scheming. Cesare is wearing pants. I'm a fan. Dowry's been sorted out, apparently, and it seems like it involves enough manpower to conquer Russia. Cesare seems to think it'll at least bump off whatever volunteer fire brigade Della Rovere manages to cobble together; Rodrigo is less sure. "I wonder," he says, "would he dare France?" Perhaps, but would he double dog dare France? Cesare's all confused. Rodrigo frighteningly goes "Hrrrmmmm." Then he changes the subject to the Spaniards, who are looking for Rome's blessing to do you-know-what to "this new continent". Because the year is 1492, and from what I recall Columbus did something to the ocean blue. "Perhaps it is time to strengthen our ties to our ancestral homeland," he muses.

Back to the ladies, where discussion has turned to a different sort of conquering. The seamstresses all scurry out, like they know what's going to happen. Would I could join them. Kidding. "First," Giulia whispers, "there's a chaste kiss. Full of promise. Like this one." Then she demonstrates, Lucrezia leaning forward to accept a peck on her cheek. "That's easy," she giggles. Indeed. "Then, there's the kiss of pleasure, which begins to promise." "Then you know them all?" Giulia assures her that every woman must. Wait, how many are there? Who teaches these things? What class did I skip? "Show," Lucrezia demands, looking spellbound. Giulia hesitates for a moment before planting a gentle yet sucky kiss on Lucrezia's pouty mouth. Lucrezia opens her eyes very slowly and smiles. "Did my mother kiss my father thus?" "I would hazard she did," Giulia says with an impish grin. "And do you kiss him thus now?" Giulia sort of nods - my god, she looks like a Leonardo painting - and then changes the subject (because conversations aren't allowed to last more than a minute in this episode) back to Lucrezia's dress. Lucrezia's fine with it. Wait, no! I was promised a comprehensive kiss rundown! Ugh. They prattle about dress colours, and Lucrezia very thoughtfully asks Giulia not to outshine Vanossa - at which point Giulia acts all mock-awkward, making Lucrezia pull the bad news out of her inch by inch. Lucrezia goes, "Hah, well that is silly, Giulia Farnese, of course she's coming." Giulia goes silent and blushy, so Lucrezia runs out, calling "Father? Father!"

Rodrigo hears her in the scheming room, so apparently they're in the same house - useful information since I can never keep track. He invites her in, assuming she's wanting to show off her dress, and effuses when she walks in: "OH, you're more BEAUTIFUL than we could have IMAGINED." Nice try, Rod. Lucrezia very reasonably points out the dumbassery of the situation. Rodrigo casts a frightened glance at Cesare, like "Oh shit she found out HELP ME," Cesare's like "You're on your own," and then Rodrigo sighs "Oh dear" and slouches off to another corner of the room. Lucrezia follows, arguing that she's not complaining about being set up with a gross old dude for the sake of politics, but excluding her mother is a whole other level of awfulness. Rodrigo squishes her cheeks together and somewhat weakly tries, "These are isssssyews, my dear daughter, that are beyond your care." Lucrezia manages not to punch him in the manboob for his patronizing dickishness (better breeding than mine, I guess), and states very calmly and sweetly that although Vanossa was a courtesan, and her father is the Pope, he loved her, and she loves her, and she will have her mother at her wedding day. Rodrigo scowls and storms out. Cesare tries to both diffuse the situation and get her into his bed with "Come, Sis, let us talk of these things elsewhere." (Sidenote: I can't deal with it when he calls her "Sis", it sounds just awful.) Lucrezia will not be lured: she chases after her father, wailing that she needs both her parents there, and my heart breaks, and Rodrigo walks into another chamber and slams the doors in her face. Lucrezia storms away, evading Cesare's grasp as she passes him.

Florence. Della Rovere storms through the streets, looking spacey, absentmindedly dropping a few coins into Giancarlo's begging bowl. He found one, hurrah! Giancarlo pulls his cowl off to watch him leave. What did Cesare just say, you dirty camera-mugger?

Cut to a stage, upon which a few stock characters are playing out a farcy cheating husband/wounded wife scene. In the audience, Juan is absolutely delighted, because of course he is, and a pervy old theatre manager with rouged cheeks and a drawn-on mustache asks whether he would prefer a Comedie or Tragedie. "It is my sister's wedding; I would see her smile," he replies, surprisingly sincerely. Mustache offers him a choice between Terence and Plautus. "What's the difference," Juan unsurprisingly asks. Terence is all about refinement, while Plautus is vulgar, and Juan's like, "Well, let's consider the audience, surely the spiritual leader of the Western World demands a little refinement," he doesn't say. Instead, he sneers, "Vulgarity is better." Mustache knows his audience - "He wrote of bawds, pimps, courtesans," he urges, and Juan is so excited about this his face almost splits open. Weirdly enough, the dialogue and delivery onstage reminds me of Ricky Gervais' and Stephen Merchant's work. Go figure.

Florence - Della Rovere dines with a Medici and a gloomy Machiavellian in a dim but opulent dining room. Oh, wait, that is Machiavelli. He kisses ass about Florence's great wealth. The Medici brat is all, "Like, duh, we're only like the best bankers in the world," implying that he knows they'll be tight with Rome no matter what fear mongering Della Rovere gets up to. Della Rovere informs them (and us) that Rodrigo has a great hand to play: Naples. My dad likes to say that Naples is an armpit, but apparently back in the day it was quite a catch, to the point where France and Spain were both ready to go to war to claim it. The Medici asks what his game is, and Della Rovere insists that he has no game, and I think he believes himself; but if he is "forced to play", he'll do it in the most dickish way possible, by letting France invade "our beautiful Italy". Machiavelli kicks off the history lesson by scornfully asking, "Italy? Is there such an entity?" Della Rovere clarifies, and Colm Feore explains to us the idiot viewers, that there is certainly a boot, and on it are several city states, Milan, Florence, the Dukedoms of Romagna, the Papal States, Naples. Then he mentions Lucrezia's impending marriage to a Sforza, and rattles off a bunch of possible marriages for the Borgia boys (Spaniards, Venetians, Florentines, Neapolitans [and I try to pretend I'd always known Neapolitan was the demonym for Naples and also that I'm not seriously craving ice cream right now]), and thus will he eradicate all boarders and Italy will exist. Gasp, no! Machiavelli peers at him and meta-ly goes, "Prophetic words - are you cousin to Savonarola?" Della Rovere blushes and tries really hard not to smile as he ruefully admits that he's not - "But I would meet with him." You know, if he's free. It's no big deal. He seems like a dece guy, is all. The Medici's like, "Back on topic... France?" Because France wants Naples, and for Naples, Della Rovere will get - "Rome?" asks Machiavelli. "I don't want Rome," says Della Rovere, believing his own lie. He just wants the Church put right. As Pope? "As her humble servant." You sure, Dellaro? Because Pope Julius II has kind of a nice ring to it. And what does Della Rovere want with Florence? "Nothing." Literally, nothing. And feel free to sleep in on the day of the invasion too. Just chill out, Dellaro's got this. Machiavelli's like "We would let those French barbarians march through our municipality, smoking their thin cigarettes and growing depressing facial hair, and do nothing? Fat chance. That's gonna cost you."

Chez Vanossa, the former courtesan drifts by her empty table (you guys, symbolism) and jumps at the sound of a door. She asks who's there - man, remember when there was nobody in Della Rovere's house and he almost shat himself? And a shadow passes by the camera as he starts to riddle in the dark. "One who heard of your distress; one who loved you, when you were younger [rude], and one who stepped aside when asked." Sounds like an awkward confrontation in the works, but Vanossa seems very happy to see... CICERO! Ahem. Theo. He clarifies that he comes not as a lover, but as a friend, and then they hug and gasp a lot. When they break apart, Vanossa mentions Rodrigo's latest dickery, and Theo somewhat insensitively takes the opportunity to point out that Rodrigo's made a pattern of it (apparently he was the one who asked him to step aside). Theo tries to take her mind off it, but Vanossa is the only character in the whole show who won't be lured off topic - until he mentions that they are both commoners, and then she gets all feisty. "We had common pleasures, did we not?" she grins, casting her eyes down, and then they both laugh. Well, she laughs, Theo goes "Hum hum hum hum hum." So she invites him to dinner, and judging by the way he's looking at her it's probably for the best that she clarifies, "Old friends at times like these are what one needs."

Back in the (or should I say "a") scheming room, Rodrigo and red-clad Cesare are poring over what I thought was a plan of ships in the harbour, but is in reality a seating plan of the church. Which is too bad, I really like the thought of them having to plan the parking of the guest's galleons. Not sure why. They're doing the wedding planner thing, which is important because Alfonso of Naples and Mr. Silviati would slit each other's throats and the Doge of Venice and Machiavelli totally wore the same codpiece to the last papal wedding and it's been kinda awkward ever since. Rodrigo finally gets it sorted, and Cesare agrees, but adds, "There is one. Glaring. Omission, Father." And this is why I love Jeremy Irons, because he whips his head around and goes, "THERE IS?” Completely terrified. He sighs. “Go over it again." And it's hilarious, possibly because he's sitting really weirdly low. But Cesare is talking about Vanossa. Rodrigo actually completely ignores him and goes back to moving around his little markers and Cesare is PISSED.

Back at Casa Vanossa, the camera pans into the dining room, and the director goes "ACTION," and right on cue Theo and Vanossa start laughing. It's that awkward. And I guess what I thought was a very pretty servant girl walking down the opposite corridor is actually Cesare, because he appears in the door, all decked out, and Theo nearly poos when he sees his... stepson? Former stepson? I don't know, but he does that thing from that scene in The Sound of Music where they put a pinecone on Maria's chair, but without the hysterical laughter that revealed too much about Julie Andrews' erogenous zones. Theo addresses him somewhat stammeringly as "Your Eminence," and Cesare stalks into the room, fiendishly rubbing his hands together, going, "Am I eminent to you?" I'm starting to think Francois Arnaud is really short, because there's no reason David Bamber should appear normal-sized otherwise. Cesare starts to bear down on him, making creepy and mean smalltalk about the curious nature of family and paternity, so obviously Theo tries to "retire," and Cesare's like, "Where? To the farm my daddy the Pope bought you?" And then he takes him by the shoulders – false alarm, David Bamber is still short – and shoves him back down into the chair, asking him all friendly-like to stay, "We're all friends here." "I should hope so," Vanossa mumbles, embarrassed for everyone in the room. Cesare ratchets up the awkward dial to 11 and muses about whether, had Theo been his father, his life would be "dare I say it... happy." And to think all Lucrezia needs to be happy is a pretty dress. Vanossa falls all over herself clarifying that Theo is not in fact his father. So Cesare asks if Theo has sheep, and then goes on about pastoral fantasies for a bit, and Theo's like "Actually, being a shepherd sucks just as much as being a cuckolded farmer, a dumped courtesan, or a sisterfucking cardinal," and then Cesare changes the subject to Virgil and death, and Theo is seriously about to stab himself in the eye just to get out of there, and Cesare asks him about sheep, or goats, implying that he's a dirty sheepshagger... Wait, was I supposed to get something out of that? You... you don't think there's something going on between Theo and Cesare, do you? You think David Bamber, the man who has portrayed Mr. Collins and Hitler and the rude theatre manager in The King’s Speech, is once again playing a nasty little shit? Whatever gave you that impression?

Florentine monastery. Or more specifically, San Marco monastery, and the fresco on the wall is Fra Angelico's Last Judgment, both of which I totally saw when I was in Florence last summer, y'all! Uncle Savonafester is rocking and muttering over a wooden crucifix when a nun shows Della Rovere into the room. "WHO DISTURBS ME AT MY MATINS," he asks all freakily. Dellaro introduces himself. Savonafester knows of him, "from that CESSPIT they call ROME." Dellaro says that it was pure once (lies) and that it can be so again (false). Savonafester says "I FEEL something from you." Dellaro's like "TAKE ME, I'M YOURS!" Savonafester has... had... a vision. Of a very bloody invasion, with all the babykilling side dishes, invited by a cleric... in RED. And then Dellaro's like "Oh, so Machiavelli told you about me!" Actually, he goes, "So leaving aside the dead infants, how's the Pope doing in all this?" Bloated, corpsey, blackened by syphilis, thanks for asking, and nobody wants to touch him. "And will you? Be the one? To bring forth? This APOCALYPSE? Cardinal... Della... Rovere? Are you... the CLERIC IN RED?" Dellaro's like HE KNOWS MY NAME! Swoon!

Meanwhile, back at the Vatican, a bunch of Spaniards walk down the center of the aisle, pausing to kneel twice. They have with them a young guy in manacles and a loin cloth. Finally they rise in front of Rodrigo, who exposits that the King of Spain sent this "savage" (oh no) for his personal viewing, brought back by Christopher Columbus, and I think I'm going to cry. Cardinal Sforza bitches about the lack of gold. The Spanish ambassador checks his clipboard and goes, "No, sorry, that particular genocide isn't scheduled for another few years." Rodrigo douchebags about how the heathens' conversion is all that matters. "Indeed, your holiness," says the Spaniard. "And we have here an example of how knowledge of the one true God can enter the most savage breast." Well, that and music.

Conquistador McGee, who's been holding the chain linked to the neck manacle, scoots the kid forward onto his knees. He falls and puts his hands together in prayer position. He looks absolutely miserable.  "Speak," says the Conquistador. The kid mumbles "Credo in unum deum," and this actor is astounding... he's got just the one line in the entire episode, but the way he delivers it, I don't know, it's so sad. Cesare seems to agree. Rodrigo's like "Is that it?"

Cesare walks forward and touches the kid's face like he doesn't believe he's real. "What Eden have they torn you from?" he whispers. "Eden," the kid repeats, probably recognizing the word from one of the many torturous preaching sessions he's had to sit through, and also encouraged by what seems to be a pitying face, and is rewarded for his not-outburst by a yank on the neck manacle. "It was a paradise, your eminence," says Conquistadora the Explorer. "Was," says Cesare scoldingly. So he's a compassionate dick. He glares at Rodrigo and rejoins the cardinals.

Apparently Queen Isabella wants Rodrigo's blessing for the New World conquest, in return for their support for the Borgia papacy. And Naples? "Their Catholic majesties would expect Rome to support their traditional claim on Naples." Guys, you think Naples is gonna be important? ...Nah.

Back in Florence, kneeling in the Duomo, Della Della Ro Ro is whispering a prayer way too loudly. If he's trying to be discrete, he's failing; his "secret plan" is echoing all over the place. Also he's asking God for a sign. Cue something silly and contrived. Oh hey, it's uncowled Giancarlo! Della Rovere goes over to the confessional, where Giancarlo has wedged himself into the priest seat, and asks to give a confession. Giancarlo's like "Only if you want to make my job incredibly easy." So Della Rovere beats around the bush for a bit, about "greater good" this and "rid the world" that, and finally Giancarlo just goes "You must spell it out for me, my son." Which, I mean, dude looks about 25, and Della Rovere is clearly... not. I don't know, it's weird. So Della Rovere spells it out, and Giancarlo nearly wets himself with excitement, pushing for more, and finally Dellaro Gets It and gets all shirty, and Giancarlo's like whoops. "I'm a humble priest, Cardinal." "How did you know I am Cardinal?" He palms a dagger. "What order are you?" "I'm a Mendicant," Giancarlo mumbles inaudibly, because he really likes making me replay that bit a thousand times. And then Della Rovere channels Savonarola and goes "You. Are a Borgia. SPY." And then STABES HIM IN THE FACE RIGHT THROUGH THE GRILL!!! And blood starts pumping and Dellaro is like MY RIGHT HAND, WHAT DIDST THOU DO? And then with huge eyes he stares at poor Giacarlo in his death shudders, and you guys Giancarlo is PINNED TO THE GRILL BY THE DAGGER and then Della Rovere books it out of there, presumably to vomit.

You guys, it's awesome.

So we're back with the actors, rehearsing in the dining hall. They're doing a bit about how the ingenue’s breath is much sweeter than his wife's, and it's... I mean, it's very pretty, and I'm sure it would be fucking hilar back then, but Juan isn't impressed - he was promised vulgarity, and bad breath did not turn stomachs back then like it does today. Mustache (now sans mustache) waffles that it is Plautus, thus "more lewd you cannot find," but Juan taps into his inner artiste and starts ordering rewrites. "Change 'breath' to 'bosoms'." "Bosoms?" says the lead actor, who cannot seem to believe that a grown man would even think the word "bosoms", let alone suggest it. Juan helpfully tears the ingenue's dress open, revealing said bosoms. She pauses for about two seconds before slamming the actor's head into her bosoms, and the scene continues, the actress playing the wife and Mustache casting sidelong glances at each other. Not a fan of bosoms, I take it. Come on! You're Renaissance-era actors, I'm sure you've seen and flashed a few bosoms in your life! Why so serious about the bosoms? Oh - right, because the bosoms will be performing for the Pope.

Bosoms bosoms bosoms bosoms bosoms.

Back in the scheming room, Rodrigo is helping little Gioffre Borgia into his very cute doublet. Little B asks if they'll all have to get married. Rodrigo suggests that someday soon the little tyke himself might get married. Little B helpfully asks, for the benefit of the audience, "How does marriage help you, Father?" Rodrigo goes "Hm," then pats his hands. "Let me explain to you, little man. Look, Simba. Everything the light touches is our kingdom." For the second time this episode, Rodrigo runs down the list of city states, this time with the names of the ruling families - I mean, that's basic pedagogy, so well done, writers, and well done, Irons, for pulling that shit off. Little B notices that Giovanni Sforza, one of the great Roman families and Lucrezia's intended, shares a last name with the duke of Milan. They're cousins, apparently, "and thus have similar interests." Why is Rome so powerful despite its size? "All the kings want to be crowned by the Pope?" "Ha-ha-ha-ha," grunts Rodrigo while shooting a "you da man" point to Little B. Moving right along to Naples, again, which takes up half the boot, and which both France and Spain have claims over, but Naples just wants to be chill and do its own thing, man, so, "Pfffffhhhh," says Rodrigo, throwing his hands in the air and bending over to Little B's eye level. "It's the Pope who has to decide." It's a big responsibility; it even stops him sleeping at night. (Certainly explains his haggard appearance.) Little B offers to marry anyone if it helps his daddy sleep. Rodrigo seems touched and genuinely speechless for a moment and then pulls Little B in for a hug and kiss, ad-libbing "There's a little chap."

Courtyard. A horse convoy rides in on the strains of that song I don't know the name of, I think it's Chopin, but played by Renaissance instruments so it sounds kind of dinky. And it's Lepidus! I mean Sforza. And he's positively swaddled in red velvet. And his hair is not good at all. Juan and Cesare both greet him on horses. Juan welcomes him. "Our armies are yours. Our hospitality is yours. And our sister shall soon be yours." He smirks like he's super clever but calms down a bit when Cesare gives him a Look. Sforza unenthusiastically promises his own armies and even more unenthusiastically pays lip service to the union of the two families. Cesare just wonders what's the best way to go about cutting off the guy's dick and leaving it in his mouth.

Cut to the lovely Lucrezia, moving alone down the aisle in that dress (so I guess she's happy...?), flanked by two lines of bridesmaids, Giulia Farnese leading one line, Juan the other. Wait. Rodrigo sits on the throne in his Carmen Miranda crown and bathrobe, looking all slouchy and glum. Little B is carrying her train; it's really cute. A bunch of extras in robes fail at pretending to Gregorian chant. Cesare stands at the front in a big white mantle, even glummer than his father. Lucrezia looks up and says, "Please, God." Sforza takes her hand and they face the altar.

Meanwhile, Vanossa feeds pigeons and cries. She throws the birdseed really hard and scares the pigeon away. As is her right.

Cesare is not stoked to be marrying them. He asks, in the rudest way possible, if Sforza takes Lucrezia. He does. He asks Lucrezia the same, and does this hilarious thing where he's really sweet when he's looking at her and really pissy when he's looking at him. "Most illustrious lady. Do you agree to take the most fugly shitter Giovanni Sforza, unfortunately present, to be your lawful spouse?" Lucrezia looks at Sforza. Sforza looks at her. Sforza looks like an uglier version of Severus Snape. Lucrezia sweetly says, "I do." She looks at Cesare. He's pissed. She looks at Rodrigo. He thinks, "I'm pleased, but if I move my head even a little I risk snapping my neck under this giant metal pineapple."

Cesare retreats to what I assume is the Cardinals’ locker room. He starts stripping and shoving the various garments angrily into the arms of two cute little altar boys. Steam begins to pour out of his ears and he tears his red cardinal's robe off, sending the buttons skittering everywhere. His day is not going great.

Vanossa's sitting at the empty table, not even eating, when Cesare storms in wearing pants again. It's really an excellent look for him. He hastily orders her to put on her best dress, and reminds her that even though she couldn't go to the wedding, Rodrigo said nothing about the reception.

Lucrezia and Sforza dance their first dance. She's a china doll. He is portly and his codpiece is huge. Lucrezia asks him to say something, chrissake, since the only words she's heard out of him were I Do. Because she's very sheltered and a bit horny, she asks if he knows the word "Love". He's somewhat rudely dismissive. Then everyone else joins in on the not-fun and it's a straight danceapalooza. Sitting up on Rodrigo's right hand, Giulia is unpleasantly reminded of her own wedding. Rodrigo is sure Sforza won't be as bad as all that, but Giulia knows what's up. And then in walk Cesare and a lovely-looking Vanossa. Everyone shuts up and stares when she walks in, but she's very graceful about it. Cesare loudly asks her to join him in a passomezzo, which she self-consciously declines, but Cesare insists, and imagines "His Holiness the Pope would insist too." So blam, everyone's eyes on Rodrigo, including Juan's, who's smirking for some reason, because he's a straight prick whenever Cesare's around, and Cesare's always around. Rodrigo's got a face like a death mask and looks like he's this close to getting violent, but Giulia asks him to think of Lucrezia. And then this amazing thing happens where first he manages to turn his look of murderous rage into a look of sheer dumb-as-rocks confusion, and then he closes his lips, stretches them into a smile, squints his eyes and nods. And it clearly takes a lot out of him. Jeremy Irons is a god among men.

So the tension breaks, and Cesare introduces Sforza to Vanossa, and Sforza manages to turn away just in time not to vomit for being confronted with something so disgusting as the mother of the bride. Giulia sensually kisses Rodrigo's hand, like that's so much less disgusting. And this song starts playing, this song, man, the opening bars sound like pop music, and then the flutes join in and then these really spastic singers start yelping and it's really, really good. I assume "passomezzo" is Italian for "straight tripping out my eardrums".

Cesare and Lucrezia pass each other during the dance and have another nonsense conversation about Sforza's limited vocabulary. Lucrezia lists the words she would teach him, Italian words, weirdly, I guess I should assume the English accents are standing in for Latin, and one of them is sprezzatura, which she is told means the "effortless display of grace". Cesare casts a glance over to where Sforza is dancing with Vanossa and extremely resolutely not looking at her, he dances like Snape too, and remarks that he sees "no evidence of sprezzatura." Lucrezia gulps and says she could probably settle for kindness, Cesare doesn't have the heart to tell her he sees no evidence of that either, and then they change partners.

Cesare's new partner is a girl named Ursula Bonadeo who is attractive in a very Mary Cherry way, which looks weirdly modern in this show. She also looks incredibly gloomy. Cesare is into her, even though she only looks a little like Lucrezia, and he asks if his eyes deceive him. I suppose there was a time when that line was super cool, even delivered halfassed like Cesare does. So they prattle on about whether eyes can deceive, the writers hastily consult the history guy to see whether they can get away with squeezing Shakespeare into the scene, but they can't, so they glumly continue. Ursula recognizes him as a cardinal, and everyone stomps a few times, and Cesare almost begrudgingly introduces himself. They chat a bit more, and he learns this girl is also in a shitty marriage, because there isn't any other kind on this show. She bitches about her husband, and Cesare annoyingly reminds her that she is tied to him, which she accepts... unless someone can get her out of it.

Lucrezia and Vanossa have a sweet mother-daughter chat, which is not particularly inspired but mercifully short.

Cesare smirks whenever he and Ursula step close. She's looking less and less downtrodden as the seconds tick by. Of course her husband can't stand for that, so as he whirls around Cesare, he spits, "Bring a whore to your sister's wedding?"

The music's not that loud, so I don't understand why everyone doesn't immediately stop dancing and gasp and the band doesn't perform whatever the fifteenth-century equivalent of a record scratch is. Ursula’s ugly husband and Cesare agree to meet in the parking lot later, and then hubby agrees to go - "The air is noisome here. Unhealthy. Worse than a whore house." Which is... gross. A gross fucking thing to say. So he strides out, pauses, and holds out his hand for Ursula. She looks back at Cesare, whispers "Liberate me," and leaves. And Cesare's inner macho man flares up and he knows what he must do.

Later in the dining hall the crowd is positively losing their shit over the play. The actors are all in togas and the blocking's gotten a lot dumber, so clearly the actors have gotten cocky. Juan is laughing like a psychopath. Giulia's sitting on Rodrigo's lap. Rodrigo is amused. Lucrezia has passed out. Sforza hates everything about everyone. Even Cesare's having a laugh; he beckons Little B over to get a better view of the nice lady's bosoms. Juan throws a grape onstage, which the ingenue catches in her bosoms. Cesare decides to carry Lucrezia off to bed, whispering to Sforza that it is past her bedtime. Rodrigo drunkenly pats her elbow as she goes and tries to make words. An elderly cardinal who should know better gets up and whips another grape at the bosoms. Apparently Juan was right about the bosoms. Nobody's even paying attention to things that aren't bosoms. I can't wait until the story arc where Juan is a playwright who deals strictly in bosoms. Even Little B throws a grape at the bosoms. One of his parents is not doing their job.

Upstairs, in the land of white and gold, Cesare lays Lucrezia down on her bed and reclines next to her, gazing lovingly at her face. He kisses her cheek. The music gets ominous. Really? Tonight? It would be a little easy to figure out, wouldn't it? And the stains...

The play’s over, so things are either winding up or down in the banquet hall. Juan, however, has his hands full. Of bosoms. "My word," he says, quoting the play, "rather sweeter bosoms than my wife." Then he eats said bosoms. So Cesare wants to be a soldier; I think all Juan wants to do is ACT. Juan kicks over a prop by accident and the actress thinks it's hilarious. Rodrigo goes off to bed his mistress. Cesare offers Sforza more wine, probably because Sforza is sitting sadly all alone. Cesare subtly reminds him how young his new wife is and that there is "time enough for pleasure", as Juan picks up the actress, flips her over his shoulder, and struts around the stage laughing. I feel like actresses must have split their heads open on marble floors all the time in Renaissance Italy; such is the price to pay for opulence.

The next day, Sforza and Lucrezia ride out. Sforza bitchily asks her how she slept. "Like a child," she responds sweetly. "I have no doubt," he bitches. Oh, like you're the one with the shitty deal.

They ride into a courtyard that is full of dogs. Sforza dismounts and asks "how are the dogs?" Then I'm pretty sure he instructs his dogkeeper not to feed them, because if they're hungry they're more... the line drifts off here, but I'm pretty sure it was awful. Lucrezia gets helped down off her mare by a very cute groom about her age. She's a little distracted for a moment. So is he.

A pretty blonde servant helps Lucrezia with her bath. Lucrezia mentions how Giulia gave her some essential oil that softens the skin; then asks if Sforza's hands are soft. Oh my GOD, this GIRL. "They are hard, my lady," the servant responds, and Lucrezia's all shocked. "What I have felt of them." Lucrezia's like "felt them?" "When he beat me." RUN AWAY LUCREZIA! The servant is doing everything but carving SAVE ME into her forehead. Lucrezia promises that there will be no more beatings. Oh, honey.

So we see the servant run off down the hall, and the Sforza comes striding down, and it's clear what's about to happen. In the bedroom, Lucrezia plays with the laces on her nightgown, trying to figure out how much she should show; another trick, no doubt, learned at the knee of Giulia Farnese. She looks nervous, but not terrified. Sforza strides through the door and closes it heavily behind him. And the rest of this episode is not ok.

"You wanted words," he says. "I have words." Words for what? "For that Borgia wedding. A farce. A travesty. A scandal." He feels her hair; he pulls at the laces on her nightgown. "A public humiliation." With a quick downward thrust, he rips Lucrezia's nightgown clean off her. She cries out a little and scrambles to cover herself. "But we're married now." He throws her up on the bed, tackles her. Lucrezia starts to panic. Then he starts to thrust. And Lucrezia starts to scream. And then hopelessness overcomes her and she lies her head back on the pillow, weeping with pain and betrayal.