[F4M] [Script Offer] Love, Blood, and the Borgias (Part 1): Lucrezia's Vows [Historical] [Renaissance] [******] [Siblings] [Romantic] [Emotional] [Tragic] [Slow Burn] [Foreplay] [Blowjob] [Fingering] [Missionary] [Creampie] [Twist Ending] [Show Me What Love Feels Like] [Before It’s Too Late] The city-state of Roma erupts in celebration on the eve of the wedding of Lucrezia Borgia, only daughter of Pope Alexander VI, and Prince Adolfo of Salorno. Revelers pack the streets, and nobles flock to the Borgia family estate. Lucrezia, however, is not in attendance. Seeking to ease his Machiavellian father’s wrath, Cesare Borgia sets out to retrieve his sister. But their history is more complicated than it appears, and as Cesare attempts to support and encourage his sister, long-dormant feelings rise to the surface. Will they act on their feelings, as forbidden as they may be? Will there love win the day? And if it does… what will they have to do to protect it? Hey! Here’s a long, romantic, historical script. This is a special one: I got to write it in collaboration with two very very exceptional people. A bajillion thank-yous to u/LordAccretionDisk for conceiving the pitch, giving excellent guidance on the project, and bringing me together again with u/emmafielder, who is kind of a full-on revelation as a performer and is also an extraordinarily kind, funny, and genuine person who I'm always stoked to work with. We've had this one in the works for a long, LONG time, and I'm so excited to show everyone. Hope you like it! A note for history buffs: these are fictional characters loosely based on and named for historical figures. Everyone depicted in this script is above the age of 18. Feedback is always welcome! Any interested performers are welcome to edit or improvise to their hearts’ content! This script features many SFX cues, but these are all optional. [TONAL ADVICE] Lucrezia is an intelligent, willful woman with a big heart and a wicked sense of humor. Though she is more mature than her family believes her to be, she has been sheltered for her entire life, and her romantic, idealistic streak tends to get the better of her. As the story reaches its climax, we see a different side of her – still caring and intelligent, but with a surprising note of jealousy, aggression, and desperation. *Asterisks are for emphasis* [Brackets are for direction] Line breaks are just there to make scanning easier – improvise with pauses all you like. -----[START]------ [NARRATION] “Be it known: Alexander VI, bishop, servant of the servants of God, wishes health and benediction to the pious and good in Vatican City, Roma, and greater Italia. He addresses them today with a joyous pronouncement: in honor of the wedding of his only daughter, Lucrezia Borgia, to Prince Alfonso D’Aragon of Salorno, His Holiness Alexander VI has graciously decreed a night of games, feasts, and festival. On this day, no lease, debt, or tithe shall be collected, no trial held, and no foreign interest pursued, and the devout of Italia are invited to join the Pontiff in celebration. May the peace of God be upon you.” [NARRATION] So reads the Papal notice posted in city squares, public markets, and merchant guilds all across the city, and the people of Roma are happy to oblige. As the sun sets beyond the western sea, the city explodes: nobles and peasants alike spill into the streets, blanketing themselves in the sights, sounds, and smells of revelry. Elegant dances, beautiful gowns, ornate masks, and endless, wonderful *music* - this shall be a night to remember. [NARRATION] And at the center of it all, a magnificent ball – a grand, immaculate crowd floods into the palatial manse of Rodrigo Borgia, Pope Alexander VI. Queens, princes, emperors, and warlords – people of note from all across Europe come to pay their respects to the Pontiff and wish health and happiness to Lucrezia, his only daughter, on the eve of her wedding. [NARRATION] For all the splendor of these guests, however, *one* has failed to arrive. A space remains empty at the head of the grand table, and Prince Alfonso D’Aragon is unaccompanied. A question flitters among the assembled guests – “where is Lucrezia?” The Pope dismisses this with a graceful smile. But beneath his beneficence, he snarls in fury. Tomorrow’s wedding will cement an alliance that could win many wars to come, and Alexander will allow *no one* to jeopardize it. [NARRATION] To ease his father’s wrath, Cesare Borgia – Alexander’s right hand and Lucrezia’s beloved older brother – sets out to House Borgia’s private estate, intent on finding his sister and convincing her to join the festivities in her honor. But as he arrives at her personal chambers, he feels a fluttering in his heart. A cold, shameful feeling that he has spent years trying to suppress. And in that moment, he feels strangely certain that he won’t be able to hold it back much longer. <(optional) muffled sounds of celebration> [slightly annoyed] Yes, yes, hello, brother. I heard you the first time. I was *ignoring* you. I’m *busy*. Come back later. Cesare. *Please*. Haven’t you heard what that old servant says? “The windowsill is the Throne of the Kingdom of Lucrezia. When she sits upon it, disturb her at your peril.” Now, if you would be a dear and return whence you came… Yes, fine, I’ll show you what I’m doing if you *promise* to stop distracting me. Come here – look over my shoulder. Out the window. Right… down… *there*. [amused, sarcastic] Uh huh – that older gentleman with the ridiculous hat and the, um… *enthusiastic* codpiece. He’s been standing on that corner harassing young ladies for, oh… about half an hour now. Lots of tongue-waggling and coarse language and… *thrusting*. So I sat here and watched him for a bit, and my mind filled up with questions: who is this man? What has made him so agitated? And what on earth could explain the *impossible* dimensions of that codpiece? [mock-serious] And in a flash, I knew the answers. I was overcome, *possessed* by tremendous *knowledge* and *insight*. I had to *draw* him. So I did. Behold. Here we see the noble ferrets that have been stuffed into his breeches emerging to exact their revenge. Beautiful. My finest work. Wouldn’t you agree? Come now, it isn’t *that* violent. I’m sure his nose can be reattached. Modern medicine has come a long way. You think not? Well, judging by his taste in *genital adornment*, his false nose will surely be a work of art. You have no sense of humor, Cesare. He isn’t even the strangest person I’ve seen tonight. Many interesting specimens, many many drawings. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must return to my work – a noblewoman who appears to have misplaced half of her dress has caught my eye. [testy, not engaging] Don’t say it. I know why you’re here. I don’t care. So don’t bother. [softly annoyed, mocking] “Father says, Father expects, Father *commands*.” Boring. You’re being very boring right now, dear brother. It doesn’t suit you. Yes, I *know* Father is waiting. And Father will *continue* waiting. No matter how much he wails about it. [venomous] I know His Holiness is not *accustomed* to not getting what he wants, but I have the utmost faith in his patience and forbearance. Why should I *care* how angry he is? He’s *always* angry. Let him fume. It won’t make any difference. [pointed] Oh? And what will he do? Have me killed? I know that’s how he removes *most* of his annoyances, but I doubt that even *he* would stoop that low. Go tell him that. If you are *so* intent on being his *errand boy*, why don’t you walk back to that dreadful, gaudy mansion, march straight up to that old, fat, miserable, *wicked* monster and tell him that I— [weary] I’m… sorry, Cesare. I… I don’t feel quite myself tonight, and… it’s unfair of me to abuse you. You’re simply the bearer of bad news. [regretful but firm] And… and I’m afraid you’ll have to bear it one more time tonight. Because I will not go. There is nothing you can say or do that will change my mind. And… you can tell Father that you did your best. If you want, you can tell him that you tried to drag me kicking and screaming into the streets. I don’t know if he will take it any easier on you, but… you can try. I’m sorry, brother. That’s my final word. Goodbye. And… good luck, I suppose. Why? I have said everything I mean to say. We’ve nothing to talk about. Alright. If you want to talk… we will talk. I have time… though I’m not sure that *you* do. Come — sit. Watch the people with me. There’s no shortage of… *spectacle*. [amused} Hmm. You know, that’s an… *interesting* doublet, I must say. Quite the choice. [lying] Um, yes, yes, I… of course I like it, of *course*. [sarcastic] I’m just, uh… not used to seeing you so… *colorful*, I suppose. So *bright*. So bright I can hardly look at you. Like the sun. Or a housefire. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You look… *lovely*. Truly. But, um… I get the impression that this *ensemble* was not of your design. Am I correct? Mmm. I thought so. [carefully-hidden jealousy] So… who dressed you, then? One of the servants? Father’s minions? Or… was it that French girl? The princess. What was her name again? I can never seem to remember. [turning up her nose] Ah, yes. That was it. God, how can you even *pronounce* that? *Complete* nonsense. But, then, I suppose it matches her personality. And her face. I am not being hateful! I’m not. I’m simply… expressing *concern* over my darling brother’s choice of paramour. Is that so terrible of me? Oh, I very much think it *is* my affair. And remind me, was it *I* who burst into *your* chambers to drag *you* to a dreadful wedding party? Because that *also* seems a curious interpretation of “minding your own affairs.” [contrite] Yes, you’re right. That was… cruel. I… I’m sure she’s lovely, once you get to know her. And you’re no fool — not usually, at least — so… so I respect your choice. [quietly] But at least you *had* a choice. [pointed] Hmm? Oh, nothing, I said nothing at all. No, I am completely content with the turn my life has taken. So very, very confident in my control over my own existence. Well and truly the mistress of my own domain. Oh, did that sound sarcastic? Hmm. How curious. [contrite] I… I must apologize once more, brother. You’ve caught me in a rather black mood, I’m afraid. It’s a troublesome night. *Why* don’t I want to go? What a question, Cesare. What a question. [exhausted] Is that truly what you think? That women are *supposed* to be excited for their weddings? Come now, brother. You’re smarter than that. [amused] Oh? You know what the problem is? By all means, brother — *edify* me. No, I’m not afraid of “settling down.” Whatever that means. I’ve been “settled down” since I was born. Stuck in the estate, reading and sewing and cooking, being taught all the things young ladies are supposed to know. The only things young ladies are *allowed* to know. That has been my life thus far. What difference will moving to another prison make? [rolling eyes] Beyond the expectation to produce “heirs,” that is. Though if those whispering maidgirls are to be believed, *that* process is… not so terrible. The first part, at least. Oh, don’t you pull that disgusted face! *Yes,* I’m your sister, but I’m also an *adult*. That is what adults *do*. And from the sound of it, there’s… quite a *lot* to do. So much to look forward to. So many *possibilities*. [mocking] “I’m not listening, I’m not listening.” Grow *up*, Cesare. Neither of us are children anymore, but you are certainly acting like one. [impish] Besides… are you really going to sit there and pretend that *you* are so innocent? That you, Cardinal Cesare, are without sin? Hmm… what was that girl’s name? From the merchant family? Benedetta, wasn’t it? Yes, she was a treat, wasn’t she? With the low-cut gowns and the bright-red lips. And such a lovely, melodious voice. I had many chances to enjoy it, you know. Voices carry through these halls louder than you might expect, Cesare. Especially late at night. And especially when those voices are cursing and screaming and gasping and saying, “oh, Cesare, yes, please Cesare, plea—" Alright, fine. I’ll stop. Just *please* try to remember that I’m not the little girl you think I am. Not anymore. Anyway: no. I’m not afraid of marriage. Or anything that comes with it. That is not the problem. [annoyed] Ugh. You sound just like Father. “Prince Alfonso is so *handsome,* so *noble,* so cultured and strong and wise and *good*.” Save it, Cesare. Please. [conflicted, holding back] It’s not… it’s not *about* him. I mean, it *is*, but… but not really. It doesn’t matter who he is. He could be the best, kindest, and handsomest man there ever was. It wouldn’t make any difference. Not to me. You don’t understand? Brother, brother. You’re really not as canny as you think you are. Shocking that you’ve had such luck with women. I feel sorry for… for… I’ve forgotten again. The French princess. [tired of joking around] No, brother. It’s not any of that. It’s… [vulnerable] Cesare… I need you to do something for me. [hesitant] Remember when we were children? When some other girl would hurt my feelings, and I would cry, and Mother and Father would lock me in my chambers, tell me to be a good girl and stop my whining? [nostalgic, smiling despite herself] Do you remember… how you would sneak into my room when you heard me crying? Just to make sure I was alright, to ask me what happened? That… that always meant a great deal to me. I don’t know if you ever realized how much. But… I was always so angry with everyone for not listening. No one ever *listened* to me, Cesare. Then… or now. I’m *screaming*, and no one can hear. And it’s… it’s killing me. A little bit more with each passing moment. [softly, pleading] So… I need that from you once more. Tonight, I need you to listen. I need you to listen, and I need you to *try* to understand, and… and I need you not to laugh at me or judge me or shame me or make me feel any worse. I’m… I’m afraid, Cesare. I’m afraid, and I need my big brother. Can you do that? Will you please listen? [gentle] Thank you. Truly. It’s… it’s not about marriage. It’s not about… *marriage duties*. And it’s not about the Prince. It’s… Prince Alfonso is fine. Truly. A noble prince and a fine gentleman. I have nothing unsavory to say about him. [careful, holding back] But… I didn’t *choose* him, Cesare. And he didn’t choose *me*. He isn’t… he isn’t *mine*. I don’t know if that makes sense to you, but… it doesn’t matter. It does to *me*. Our engagement… it makes sense. We will tie Roma and the Vatican to Salorno. War will come sooner or later, and when it does, our forces will be unmatched. Yes, it… it makes sense. But… maybe I don’t *want* a wedding that “makes sense.” Maybe “sense” is the furthest thing from my mind. Maybe I want something… radical. Exciting. *Real*. Is that such a terrible thing? Someone else? [quietly] Well… what if I… *did* have someone else in mind? What if I… have had someone in my heart for a long, long time? What would you say to that? [quiet, hiding her hurt] I… yes. Yes, that… that *would* be unfortunate, wouldn’t it? It truly would be. But… but I think the worst thing is that it wouldn’t matter. Even if there *was*… someone else. If I stay here, if I don’t go to father’s horrid party… he will be angry, surely, but nothing terrible will happen. No one will kick down the door to drag me out. I have *that*, at least. [escalating fear] But… the wedding is *tomorrow*. And if I fail to arrive… well, I doubt Father would *kill* me, but I would not put it past him to have his soldiers force the dress over my head, stuff the veil in my mouth, tie me to my horse… [horrified, emotional] There’s just… there’s nothing I can do, Cesare. *Nothing.* If I refuse, they’ll force me. If I run away, they’ll hunt me down. I have no choice but to be… passed around. All because it “makes sense.” [trying to pull it together] So… so it doesn’t matter how brave or kind or clever Prince Alfonso is. Because he won’t be my husband. He will be my *captor*. And I can *never* forgive him for that. Never forgive him… and never *love* him. [exasperated] No, do *not* roll your eyes. You promised not to shame me. Just… listen. [pouting] I *know*, alright? I know I sound like a little girl. I know I sound… naïve when I talk about love. I hate that I do. But it’s not my *fault* that I sound that way. It’s *theirs*. Roma, the Vatican… the *world*. [nostalgic] Just… listen. When we were children… do you remember the games we played? Heinous villains and dastardly plots, dashing knights and imperiled princesses… and more than a few imperiled *princes*, too, as I recall. Don’t laugh! I’m serious. They were just games, yes, but… I loved them. I loved them because they were *about* love. They *taught* me to love. In those stories… love was simple, and pure, and *vital*. All those little characters we played… they lived and died for it. And it was *beautiful*. It still is. [weary] But… the world loves nothing more than strangling beauty, I’m afraid. Every little girl has those dreams. Every little girl wants to find her prince, marry him, live happily ever after. But then… most girls have those dreams beaten out of them. They are told that the love they’ve spent their childhoods aspiring to was nothing but a lie or a fairy tale. They are told to put childish things behind them, settle for the man their parents choose, and just… *be*. To be whatever the world wants them to be, and nothing more. To consign themselves to brutality, and never to complain. But that’s … *most* girls. *I* was never hardened like that. Thanks to you. [smiling gently] Yes, you. Didn’t you realize? That surprises me, considering you’ve spent our lives doing everything you can to protect me. [softly, kindly] Don’t be coy, Cesare. Like I said earlier: you aren’t as clever as you think you are. I remember when I first realized who Father is. Or *what* he is, I suppose. This was before he was Pope, just before. Do you remember Uncle Abramo? Not our *real* Uncle, of course — Father’s right hand, the Bishop of Venezia. Yes, of *course* you remember. He was always so kind to us — such kind words, such lovely gifts. Well, then you must also remember when Uncle Abramo stopped coming to visit. When his extravagant gifts stopped arriving, when Father refused to ever say his name out loud again… when Father moved his cousin into position as the *new* Bishop of Venezia, the previous holder of that title having… vanished. [coldly] Yes, you remember. Father told you what he did, didn’t he? You were just a boy, an *altar* boy… and he baptized you in blood. And even knowing just what our family is capable of… you didn’t want *me* to know. So you hid everything. You fought to keep Father away from me, to keep me happy, healthy, and oblivious in that bright, private world where little girls live. And… for a time, it worked. So, yes: thanks to you, I was able to hold on to my vision of love much longer than I was meant to. But… you couldn’t insulate me forever, brother. I was naïve, but not a fool. [trembling] Have you… have you ever been into Father’s chambers? His private chambers, behind the bookcase. Mmm. Then… then you haven’t seen the poisons. Dozens of them. So many bright, horrible colors. Meticulous notes on how to use them. Ledgers detailing the many times he *has* used them. He is… nothing if not organized, our Father. I found that room when I was… fourteen, I think. And things were different after that. I knew what Father was, and I knew how hard you had worked to keep me from finding out. [quiet, loving] And… and I loved you for it. How many years had you spent defending me from the world? From cynicism, from despair? *That* was love. And it was love as I had always known it to be. Everything you did to protect my “fantasy”… all you did was prove that the fantasy was *real*. And I’m… so thankful. [caring] But… those years spent defending me gave you little time to defend yourself, did they? I’m sorry for calling you Father’s “errand boy” earlier. I didn’t mean it. I know you, and I know you have no more love for Father than I do. And… I know the things he’s made you do. [loving] It breaks my heart, Cesare. It breaks my heart to see what he’s tried to make you into. A cardinal, yes… and a thug. [carefully] I want to ask you something, brother. And I will understand if you don’t want to answer it, but… you must. You must tell me the truth. Please. Have you ever killed anyone for Father? [relieved, but still concerned] No. Good. That’s… that’s good. [hesitant] But have you ever… *seen* someone die on Father’s orders? [gentle, deeply caring] Oh, brother. I… I am so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I… I can’t imagine how terrible that must have been. [soft] You… you know you don’t deserve that, don’t you? You know that you shouldn’t be made to subject yourself to such… *horror,* right? [gentle but firm] No — don’t pull away from me, Cesare. Look at me. Take my hand. [tenderly] *Neither* of us deserves the life that’s been forced upon us. *No one* does. You’re such a brave, brilliant, kind man — you don’t deserve to sacrifice your soul to politics. And *I* don’t deserve to resign myself to a life of silence, servitude, and cold. I don’t deserve to give up on love. [she leans in, possibly not consciously aware of how close they are] Shhh. Hush now. Listen. [quiet] You taught me what love is. All those years ago. And… and you couldn’t have done it if you didn’t feel that love as well. What’s been done to us is… unforgivable. And I wouldn’t have survived it without you by my side. You’ve always been here for me… and I for you. You braced my heart when the world sought to crush it. So my heart… belongs to you. [urgently] Wh— Cesare, *no*! Wait, stop! Do *not* walk away from me. Not now. *Please*. Please, come back and… just come here. Sit back down. It’s alright. It will all be alright. [intense] Listen to me, Cesare. Listen. What we just did… I know it scares you. It scares me as well. But… that was not impulsive. Not for me. I’ve… I’ve wanted to do it for a long time. And… and I don’t think I need to tell you why I haven’t before now. But I’m done pretending. I don’t have time to deny my heart any longer. [emotional] I… I love you, brother. I *love* you. More than anyone knows, and… and maybe more than I should. But I don’t care. I can’t help it. You… you’re the only one who has ever *listened* to me, Cesare. The only one who ever held me when I cried. For as long as I can remember, you’ve been the only person on Earth who truly cared for me. And you’re the only person I’ve ever cared about. Ever since we were children. [longing] And once we grew up… I only felt it more intensely. As I became a woman and… and watched you become a man. I didn’t realize it at first, but… whenever I crouched behind a corner and listened to the maids whisper about their… *dalliances*… I could see only you in my mind. Your smile, your kiss… your *body*. I would pant and shiver and… *want* you. [desperately] No, do *not* turn away. Please, Cesare. *Please*. I *know* it isn’t… normal. I know it doesn’t make sense. But I don’t want *sense*. I want *you*. I want you *now*. And… I know you want me, as well. You can’t lie to me, Cesare. You never could. All those years protecting me, comforting me, putting me before all else… I learned to read your eyes. And your eyes have always told me all I needed to know. Right now, they’re telling me the same thing they’ve been telling me for years: that you love me. That you love me so much it *scares* you. That you have to *remind* yourself that I’m your sister. [pointed] Tell me it’s true. Tell me. [tender] Yes. I know. But Cesare… what if you *forgot* that I was your sister? What if I was just… a woman? What if I was just a woman you cared for very deeply, a woman who is one day away from missing her only chance at love? Real love, *true* love. What would you do then? [soft, longing] Would you turn me away? Just when I needed you most? Or… would you hold me? And love me? And give me every hidden part of yourself? [tender whisper] It’s your choice, Cesare. So… choose. [amorous] Cesare… please… Your beard tickles! [smiling] Hmm… I don’t *know* if I like it. Let me try again… Mmm. Yes. It will do nicely. [gravely] Wait. I have a very serious question for you. I’ve meant to ask you all night, but I just couldn’t work up the courage. I was afraid. But I cannot hold it back any longer. Cesare… will you please take off that hideous doublet? Here, let me help you. Mmm… there you are. Can I… do you mind if I touch? [smiling] Mmm… you know… I’ve always admired your chest. I’ve… wanted to feel how strong you are. And… I’ve wanted to do *this*… Yes. *Very* strong. And very *warm*. [sultry] Oh? You want to… return the favor? Hmm… yes. I think I would like that. But I’m afraid I’ll need your help — this dress is a bit… *elaborate*. Here, let me turn around. See? The buttons down the back, please. Um… Cesare, that’s not my back, that’s my neck— [dreamily] That’s… my God, that’s lovely. Your… your beard still tickles a bit, but… I love it. Keep… keep doing that… and help me with my dress. Whew… that’s better. [embarrassed] Well… *yes*, I’m covering myself! I’m… a bit nervous. I’ve wanted this for a long, long time, but… I never imagined it would actually happen. I’m… overwhelmed, I suppose. I… [dreamy] But… my heart is beating so fast, and… and if you pulled my hands away… I don’t think I could stop you. Do… do you like them? Good. You can… touch them. If you like. Or… give them a kiss. Oh… oh *god*, Cesare. That feels… ohhhh. My… my skin is *tingling*. Your *teeth*… let me… run my fingers through your hair… Ah! Gentle, gentle… Just… suck on them. I liked that. Mmm. Yes. Just… just like that. Come here. [softly] Take my hand, Cesare. Take me to bed. Mmm… you’re very pretty. Did you know that? Don’t get bashful now, Cesare. It’s a bit late for that. I love the feeling of your weight on top of me. Your skin on my skin… my breath on your neck… [genuine surprise] Oh! What’s… Oh… I *see*. So… it would seem that you *really* like it when I kiss your neck, hmm? Is… *that* what I feel pressing up against me? [confident] Yes? Well, then… roll over. I want to see. Let me pull down your breeches and… [quietly] Oh, *my*. [suddenly not so confident] Ah, yes. The, um… the *phallus*. Good. It looks… good. Very… *ready*. Which is… good. Yes? Yes. So now I’ll just… I’ll… um… [quiet, embarrassed] What do I… *do*? I… yes, I did listen to the maids gossiping, but… I neglected to ask for details. How… how should I touch it? Yes, take my hand and… show me what you like. Mmm… like this? [excited] Oh god… it’s so warm and smooth and… *hard*. I can… feel your heart beating. Is… *this* how you like it? Slow and gentle… up and down… Yes, I can *see* how much you like it. You’re getting harder for me. Your breath is… *catching*. [hesitant but excited] You know, there was… *one* thing those maids whispered about that made me very curious. They talked about… kissing it… And putting it in their mouths… I… I think I will need more practice with that. But… did it feel nice? [smiling] Good. Because… it felt nice for me, as well. I’m, um… I’m feeling very… um… [flustered] Oh, *god*, I don’t know what *words* to use! This is terrible! I just… I want to tell you that… that I’m… [whispering between kisses] Cesare… pull down my underclothes, Cesare… feel what you’ve done to me… feel how much I *want* you… [breathy, between kisses] I… I want you to make love to me. I want you… *inside*. Right now. Please, Cesare. *Please*. Put it into me. Put it— Oh *god*, oh my *god*, I… I’ve never felt anything like… mmm slow, go *slow*, Cesare, I’m… it’s so much, it’s so… *hard*… God… it feels so… I *love* it… go faster now, Cesare, go — Oh my *god*… you’re so *deep*… it feels… *incredible*! Mmm… Cesare, I… I can’t tell you how much I’ve dreamed about this… you on top of me… your body pressing down on mine… our skin sliding… our breath… mixing… [intense] And I dreamed about… about what it would feel like… to keep going until you couldn’t take it… until you couldn’t hold back any longer… until you gave *everything* to me… to make you feel… *perfect*. [needy, moaning whisper in his ear] I want that, Cesare… I want to feel it. I want to feel you finish. Keep going. Don’t stop. Don’t hold back. Do it, brother. Do it. Inside me. Do it now. Please. *Please*! Give it to me! Give it to— [tenderly] Come here. [breathless] That was… *beautiful*, Cesare. I never imagined it could be so… I don’t know what to say. But… it was lovely. Hmm? Yes, it was *incredible* for me, too. [hesitant] Well, um… *no*, I didn’t… I didn’t finish, but… that’s quite alright. I’m happy I made you feel good. That’s all I… [apprehensive] Um… Cesare, what are you doing with your hand— [breathy] Oh… Cesare… that’s… yes, right there, right… mmm… Your hands are so… *strong*. Put them… put your fingers in… push them in *deep*. Oh, god, *yes*! Faster. *Please*, Cesare, go *faster*. I’m… I’m… [desperate] God… *god*! Hold me closer, Cesare, I’m… something’s… *happening*. Faster, Cesare, deeper, I’m… I think I’m… I’m going to… don’t stop, don’t stop, *please*, keep going, I’m going to— [breathless] That… that was… [quietly] Thank you, Cesare. [gentle whisper] No. Shhhh. Don’t say anything. Just… hold me. [timid] Do you… do you love me, Cesare? I know you love me, but… do you *love* me? It’s alright. You can say it. No one will hear. No one but me. I love you too, Cesare. Truly. Deeply. And I am not afraid to say it. Not anymore. Regret? No. Not at all. I don’t care about what people would think. I don’t care about my wedding. Because now I know what love feels like. *Real* love. What could I possibly regret? [cautious] But… *you* don’t regret it, do you? [slightly hurt] You’re… not sure. Mmm. That’s… that’s alright. I understand. This has become… complicated. Shhh. Stop. Let’s… let’s not talk about tomorrow. Not yet. [something strange and concerning enters Lucrezia’s voice – a terrible thought occurs to her. She has not made her decision yet, but she begins weighing things in her mind – the desperation of her love and what she might be willing to do to protect it] [softly] Cesare… you love me, yes? [gentle but firm] Say it. Please. I want to hear you say it. Yes. You love me. And… and you feel hopeless. You feel that no matter how strong your love is… there is nothing you can do. That everything we’ve done must end here. Yes? [very, very cautious] But, Cesare… what if you were wrong? If… if there *was* a way for us to be together… a way we could escape this place, run away, be happy in some far-flung place where no one would ever know our names… would you do it? Would you stay with me? [apprehensive – is she actually considering this?] I… I don’t *know* what I mean, I suppose. Not really. But… humor me, please. If there was any chance… would you take it? [insistent] No, don’t just *say* it. You have to *promise* me, Cesare. Promise me you would take any opportunity for us to be together. [gravely] No matter what. [softly] Thank you, Cesare. I promise as well. Come here. Lay your head on my chest. Listen to my heart. [near-whisper] Shhhh. Don’t think about that. Tomorrow is tomorrow. We still have tonight. Sleep now, my love. Breathe with me and shut your eyes. I will see you in the morning. And then… everything will be clear. [scene transition – we fade out, and time passes. The subtle music of the morning creeps in – birds chirp placidly in the distance, blind to what has just transpired] [ecstatic, near-manic] Brother! Finally, you’re awake! Awww, look at those tired, puffy eyes! Come, let me warm them for you… There we are! Much better. Did you sleep well? I think so. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for *ages*! I must say, Cesare, you are absolutely *adorable* when you sleep. I never knew that about you. And so, to ensure that I never forget… I decided to *immortalize* you. Look here – your truest self. You’ll see that I took the liberty of ignoring that puddle of drool and *emphasizing* your… *morning condition*. [sensual – she reaches under the sheets] Speaking of which… having a good dream, were we? Well… we could bring it to life, if you like… [confused] Mmm? Cesare… what’s the matter? Me? Well… of *course* I’m happy! It’s a beautiful morning, and I get to spend it with my love. What could be better? [very cautious, dismissive] Oh. Um… well, nevermind the wedding. I’ll explain later, but… we don’t need to worry about it. For now, come here — let me take care of you again… [hurt, concerned] Wh— Cesare! Don’t push me away. What is the matter with you? [holding back] I… well, yes. We don’t need to worry about the wedding anymore. And… and isn’t that wonderful news? We can be together, Cesare! Just like we promised! There’s nothing standing in our way! [cautious] Well… there won’t *be* any wedding. Why? Um… There won’t be any wedding because… because Prince Alfonso is dead. He died in the night, I’m afraid. [trying to ease Cesare’s panic] Shh, *shh*, brother, calm down. Calm down. It will be alright. This is… this is unexpected, yes, but… what happened has happened. It can’t be changed. And… and it leaves us a world of possibilities. [excited] We can run away, Cesare! I’ll cut my hair, you’ll shave your face… no one will know us. We can be whoever we want, wherever we want. France, England, Russia… I don’t care. As long as I’m with you… I will be happy. I will *finally* be happy. [getting carried away by excitement] We can’t go right away, of course. We will have to bide our time. Once they find the body, there will be a funeral, an investigation – if we leave before then, they’ll surely come looking for us, so we must— [still oblivious] Well, yes, they haven’t found the body yet because… [suddenly realizing] Oh. Um. [hesitant] Cesare… you must not be angry with me. I will explain, but you *must* try to understand. I know you will, but… [soft] Yes. I killed him. [slowly] I… after last night… I couldn’t sleep. I was… so happy and so filled with dread at the same time. I… I finally knew what love feels like, and it was about to be stripped away from me. And… I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear the thought of being torn away from you. So… so as you slept, I… sat at the windowsill. And I thought. And… I remembered Father’s secret room. The room… with the poisons. I went in, and… I sat for awhile. Admiring them, I suppose. And one caught my eye – a little purple vial. I read Father’s notes – a charming mixture brewed mainly in France, they said. Produces a sleep painless, dreamless… and eternal. Untraceable. [mounting horror] So… I took it. And I went out to the street. The night’s last revelers were stumbling back to their brothels. I crept by them and made my way to the Papal estates, where the prince was quartered. And once I stole away into his room… I *froze*. I *understood* what I was about to do, but… but it was like I wasn’t *there*. Like I was still in bed with you, touching your hair, hearing your breath. And before I knew it… I was standing over him, bottle in hand… dripping the liquid into his ear. Drop, drop, drop. [trembling] He coughed a few times, softly. Then his breathing slowed and… it was over. [emotional] I… I fell to my knees. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I *still* can’t. I might have stayed there the whole night, just… staring at him, rooted to the spot. But… you gave me courage. Our *promise* gave me courage. I had to come back to you. So, with effort… I did. And so… here we are. With nothing to stop us. Never again. [frightened] Cesare… Cesare, wait! Where are you going? Come here. Come back to bed and… and *talk* to me. *Please*. I know this is frightening, and… and I can’t tell you how much I wish there was any other way, but… there wasn’t. You know that as well as I do. What’s done is done, and… now we have to move forward. Together. Just as we promised. [disbelief] You… wait, what are you saying, Cesare? [shakily] I… Cesare, please… *please* don’t look at me like that. Like I’m some sort of… [slowly collapsing] I… I know, I know, I can’t believe I did it either, but I… I didn’t see any choice, and I… we can be together now, Cesare, we can be in *love* now, it will *work* now, and… [denial] No, you… you can’t *leave*, Cesare. Not… not after what we… what I… [he drops the bomb – he’s horrified at her, and he can’t stay with her] [softly - utter devastation] No. No, you *can’t*, you… you *love* me. You love me, and I love you, and… you promised. [rising fury] You *promised*! [seething] You held me, and you looked me in the eyes, and you *promised* you would stay with me, come whatever may. And you mean to abandon me *now*? When I need you the most? I was prepared to sacrifice *everything*, Cesare! I… I *killed* for you. For *us*. How can you do this? How can you turn me away *now*? [shaking with anger] You… will *not* speak to me that way. You will not treat me like some… some *fiend*. You’re “disgusted” with me? With *me*? Well, I’m sorry your doting, naïve, *innocent* little sister has disappointed you, brother, but *no* — this is *your* fault. *You* did this. [venomous] All that time spent keeping me away from our criminal family, all those years shielding me from violence, and *I* become the killer. Isn’t it terribly ironic, *brother*? Isn’t it so very *funny* that you spent our lives convincing me that love is *real* and worth *defending*, and when I finally *do* something to defend that love — when I do what is *necessary* to allow our love to exist — you suddenly don’t have the stomach for it? Isn’t it *hysterical*? You… you *creature*. I was wrong about you. You aren’t a cardinal, and you aren’t a thug. You’re a naïve, cowardly, stupid little *boy*. To hell with you. To *hell* with you! Get out, Cesare. Get *out*! Get out of my chambers, get out of my home… get *out*! If I see you again… [she falters, stops herself, and considers her words for a moment — tremendous effort and regret, she continues] [shakily] If I see you again… I will have one of Father’s men *kill* you. I promise you that. And unlike *some*… I *keep* my promises. Now… go. Just… just go. -----[END]-----