10,000 pages.
My life and loves.
That's just about one woman for every page.
God, I'm tired.
But there is one story I haven't put down.
Francesca.
That's a story which isn't mine to tell, really.
So keep it to yourself.
- For how long? - I don't know how long.
- It's a man, and you're a whore. - I'm an actress.
What's the difference?
Giacomo.
You be good for your grandmother.
- Now, you know I love you very much. - Mama.
Listen to me. Look out there.
Know one day you'll come back to Venice
and I'll return for you.
I promise.
She means when I am dead.
It's not her fault. It's in the blood.
A heat for love. Irresistible.
Irresistible.
Sophia, my love!
My husband.
Your husband is the luckiest man in Venice and doesn't know it.
And it's lucky he's not in Venice.
Sweet darling, I love you like no other.
You are my dreams come true.
Please, please make love to me again.
Casanova, tell me I'm the only one.
Of course. I always do.
- Darling, I'm home! - My husband!
I know Casanova well. It's just like him.
- Has the iceman come yet? - Yes.
And he comes again tomorrow.
Don't believe what people say.
I don't conquer. I submit.
I've never sought glory as a lover.
Well, what then, Signor Casanova, do you seek?
A moment that lasts a lifetime.
So, tell me.
This unusual order of nuns you belong to.
Is it a very strict order?
Very. No
jewels or nice clothes before sundown
and back in our cells by...
- Heavens! Is that the time? - You don't have to go.
I must. It's been delightful. Only...
Only...
How do I know you're really Casanova?
Yes! Yes!
Casanova.
- The Inquisition is here looking for you. - No.
Forgive me.
Quick. If they catch you, they'll hang you.
Giacomo, wait. Tell me I was the one.
You are the one.
- You won't forget me, will you? - No, I could never.
- Casanova. For you. - Thank you.
- Where is Casanova? - I've taken a vow of si...
Eternal damnation. For one night with Casanova.
Seems fair.
We've got him.
Come on.
...hours of study by respected thinkers of our time, including myself.
I'm not old-fashioned in this matter.
I do not say a woman's place is at the hearth and in the bed.
What I do say... Of course it is their place.
What I do say is let them be educated at home.
On the higher planes of science and philosophy,
women serve only to distract us,
to bring us down to our earthly appetites.
So I say no woman shall ever set foot inside this university.
Let my opponent take the floor.
And now Dr Giordano of Padua.
- Too late, gentlemen. - Silence!
Let me show you who is bringing whom down to earth.
A woman is air and fire and lightness and strength.
Like this little vessel
that would rise up to heaven were it not held down by ballast -
bags of sand.
The dead weight of men with their heads full of sand.
Only a woman would argue by this demonstration of a toy.
It would never strike the superior intellect of a man, or I'll eat my words.
Eat these briefs, signor, for these are the words of the philosopher Bernardo Guardi,
who was said to live in this very city.
Bernardo Guardi. That madman.
Wait until the Inquisition catches up with him.
Call him a madman,
but he has more understanding of women than any man in this room.
And I'll wager he has better luck with them in bed as well.
Strumpet.
There he is! Over there!
Stop him!
Hold him!
Gentlemen, my apologies.
You see?
The dead weight of men.
But I didn't know what was happening. He...
He bewitched me.
He said he was the Holy Ghost.
And it's happened before.
You are charged with debauchery, trespass, heresy.
To wit: Fornication with a novice.
Well, she was hardly a novice.
For which the punishment is death by hanging, tomorrow at dawn.
And this time your admirers in high places won't be able to help you.
Excuse me, Inquisitor. The doge.
Dalfonso.
Prince, we were just talking about you.
What brings you here?
- I have a special interest... - I have a special interest.
This time the prisoner has been condemned on the evidence of a nun.
A special interest in your witness.
- Sister Beatrice? - I need a word.
For God's sake, don't you know who she is?
- Who? - Cardinal Lopresta's mistress in waiting.
He entrusted me with safeguarding her virginity for him alone.
She's leaving for Rome today.
Your witness is Cardinal Lopresta's sister, Beatrice.
His sister? Oh, God! Those Romans.
Think about it, Father Dalfonso.
Who's going to get the blame for dragging her into the Casanova affair?
Take your time.
Me?
Signor Casanova, this seems to be another case of mistaken identity.
You are free to go.
You know I'm your friend, but I'm being threatened by Rome.
Venice, I'm afraid, is perceived as a hotbed of...
Well, as one enormous hot bed
with silk sheets and heretical books under the mattress.
The people here are given over to physical pleasure and scepticism.
Do not abuse my sympathy for you, Casanova.
I'm expelling you from Venice.
Your Excellency, I worship beauty. There's no harm in that, is there?
- Worship it in Paris, London. - I can't leave Venice.
- Why? - I'm waiting for someone.
- She may let you down. - No. She promised she'll come one day.
You don't understand.
I'm expelling you from Venice for your own good.
- Unless... - Unless what?
Unless you find yourself a respectable wife.
A good woman from a good family will give you protection.
A wife?
It will soon be the time of Carnevale when authority winks at our indiscretions.
- You're bad enough during Lent. - But Carnival's in a few days.
You better not waste any more time then.
- Meanwhile, you're on good behaviour. - A wife?
- No scandals... - Getting married?
...duels, drunken escapades.
Morning, Lupo.
- We were worried about us. - You were right to be.
- We're getting married. - Congratulations. To whom?
Don't know yet. Any callers?
Landlord, tailor, wine merchant, usual creditors.
Look at the state of us. Where have you been all night?
It's like being married already.
Can you get me some fresh clothes? We have some shopping to do.
- The Contessa Morelli-D'Aosta. - Yes, yes, yes. Oh, but, no, she snores.
Yes, I remember. Lady Veronique Costello.
- Heavenly. - Yeah.
- Duchess of Urfe. - Yes.
- But didn't she poison her husband? - Did she? I don't remember that.
Ah, Giulietta Badalamente.
Sadly, she hasn't poisoned her husband yet.
Perhaps if we told us what we're looking for.
I don't know. Beauty, modesty.
- Purity. - All that.
Lupo. We have had a vision.
Still spying on your virgin?
She'll never look this way if you don't make yourself known.
The whole town's talking about it.
It's just appalling.
You think those men liked hearing they're no good in bed?
If they wanted that, they'd go home to their wives.
Francesca, arrogance in a woman is not attractive.
She's not arrogant. She's just angry.
- Fruit, sir? - Don't defend your sister.
It's true. She knows she's smarter than most men,
which makes men pretend to be superior,
which makes her angry, which is seen as arrogance.
Giovanni, come away from the window. Our neighbours'll think you're a gargoyle.
No, Vittorio. Over there.
Francesca, this is a very important week as you well know. You have responsibilities.
In a few days, thanks to you, I won't be poor any more.
Much thanks to your father
who had the foresight to betroth her to his rich cousin's eldest son in Genoa.
Listen to this. "Mystery transvestite at university
overturns laws of gravity,
conjures devil from the air,
nearly starts fire."
God. Can't they get anything right?
Be thankful. I told you I'd not permit another scandalous display at the university.
- There's too much at stake. - Mother, I don't want to marry him.
- Please. I'll be damned if I do. - Well, if you won't, I will.
That's funny, is it?
Well, I'm damned to be widowed and gathering dust.
Mother.
Well done.
I know why you're like this about your fiance.
- Why I'm like what? - Come on.
You're always slipping away in secret.
And you're thin.
It's obvious you've already got a secret lover.
Well, don't tell.
Hello. A gift for your daughter.
I don't know what to say. Thank you. It's magnificent.
But you don't know my daughter and she doesn't know you.
Yes. But I know her reputation, Signor Donato.
And everybody knows yours, Signor Casanova.
I've always wondered what you look like.
Quite ordinary, I can see that.
Well, how can I put this?
Victoria is that rare thing - a Venetian virgin.
Yes, one hears of them, but invariably it turns out that...
I am sorry. Do go on.
Thank you. She's led a very protected life.
Never has an impure thought crossed her mind.
Of course not.
She's never been alone in a room with a man, or even seen a man without his coat.
I've made sure of that.
There isn't anything I wouldn't do to ensure her happy innocence.
- She should be in a nunnery, but... - Heaven forbid.
- Exactly. One hears things. - Yes.
On the other hand, there is you, Signor Casanova,
the most notorious lover of women in Venice,
reputed to have the longest list of conquests ever known.
A virtuoso of the intimate caress.
The maestro of multiple...
- What was that? - I will come to love her, Signor Donato.
It's out of the question. Your idea of love is sensuality,
to reduce women to quivering puddles of...
Victoria!
Are you all right?
I want him. I want him. Please, please, Papa.
I'll never be happy without him.
- Congratulations. We're engaged. - We are a marvel.
- I mean, actually getting married? - Yes.
You have sullied my glove.
I mean, love. My love.
- I'm sorry. What did he just call us? - We didn't sully it. It came out of nowhere.
Thank you. You've sullied my love.
Victoria Donato is my fiancee.
- Is she? - Yes.
- In the sense that I'm going to marry her. - Well, she never mentioned that.
Of course she didn't. I haven't asked her yet.
Wha?
Here, sir.
What, are you two working together now? Lupo.
San Cremori at dawn.
Listen. We decline to fight you, dear sir.
- You coward. - We happen to be on good behaviour.
You have no right to decline to defend your honour.
It's our honour, so we have the right.
He who gets slapped has his rights. Those are the rules.
See?
- Now, what did we do that for? - I don't know.
San Cremori at dawn.
May I know of whom I have the honour to be killing?
Lupo Salvato.
Thank you.
- Don't forget your glove. - Thank you.
Surely we don't mean...
What's this "we"? You slapped him. You fight him.
I see you're not laughing now.
Come on!
The apple is very distracting.
It's all right. I'll fight him.
I can be Lupo Salvato.
Bastard!
Signor Salvato.
Oh, dear.
This gentleman is here to explain the terms of the duel and to see fair play.
- Very good. - Your attention, please, gentlemen.
Stay behind the line until I give the word.
If one trips or falls, the other puts up his sword until I say "continue".
Yes.
If a sword breaks, your second hands you the spare sword.
- Do we have a spare sword? - Yeah, we do.
First blood ends the duel.
Master!
Move. Go on.
Master!
It's the old switch game.
You'd have killed him.
And you are?
Francesca Bruni. He's my brother.
- I'll take that, sir. - Sorry, Signor Salvato.
I should think you would be sorry.
- It was all a case of mistaken identity. - Mistaken identity?
Giovanni got it into his head you were courting Signorina Donato.
- Did he? - It's all over Venice.
The famously virginal Victoria Donato is gonna marry the infamous rake, Casanova.
- Do you know him? - Casanova. The philosopher,
who devotes his life to the perfection of experience? Yes, I know him.
No. Casanova the libertine who devotes his life to seducing women.
Well, we're obviously talking about the same person.
There must be something deeply wrong with a man like that, don't you think?
Something missing in his life. True love, perhaps.
All love is true in different ways.
To say "I love falsely" is as self- contradictory as saying "I believe falsely".
You are a philosopher, too.
I've spent countless hours alone with Casanova,
pondering the ways of love and how it makes us at one with the angels.
And with the beasts.
I will not debate with you if you take the side of a man
whose idea of love demands a female sacrifice every day.
I've no sympathy for women who think no better of themselves than to be a plaything.
You tell your friend from me that what he imagines to be love is, in fact, self-love.
And self-love is self-doubt.
- Well said. - Yes.
By the philosopher Bernardo Guardi. You should read him, Signor Salvato.
- Clearly. - Give me a man who is man enough
to give himself just to the woman who is worth him.
If that woman were me, I would love him alone and forever.
Goodbye, Signor Salvato.
If fighting continued, one of us would have had good cause to be sorry.
The one still standing, I think.
Francesca Bruni.
- I want my money! - Next week, without fail.
- You said that last week! - I was a week early.
- Go to hell. - I'll see you there. Thank you so much.
Honestly. Why, the nerve!
Can you believe this man? I mean
does he know who we are?
He should be honoured to be owed money by the likes of us.
- Lupo. - What?
I've made a terrible mistake.
- You have? - Yes.
I have to find her.
Master, I'm a little confused.
- I thought we'd made our decision. - Yes, I know.
Francesca! He's arriving tomorrow.
Your fiance.
She has a fiance.
Well, so do you.
- Giovanni. - Good day, Mario. How are you?
- I'm sorry. - Giovanni, more disgrace.
- Allow me. - Thank you. I'm sorry.
Mama, this is Signor Salvato.
I understand you've had an unpleasant encounter with my son this morning.
It was nothing more strenuous than a morning's constitutional.
Come along.
Sorry.
- Your sister has a fiance? - She's in love with Casanova.
- Who is? - Victoria.
- My love. Remember? - Oh, yes.
- Engaged to Casanova. - Yes.
Well, you'll have to beat him at his own game.
But how? I'm up against a world-class seducer.
- Hello. - So? What would Casanova do?
- I don't know. What would Casanova do? - Well, to start, he wouldn't mope around.
- No, I suppose not. - Misery is not attractive.
If you want to be loved, you have to be worth loving.
That's the first rule. And second
be the flame, not the moth.
- The flame, not the moth. - Yes.
It's my tongue. Got very loud.
So, your sister, is she happy with this new fiance of hers?
No. She's never met him.
- Really? - Besides, she has a secret lover.
- A secret lover? - Yeah.
- Who? - Well, I don't know. It's a secret.
Anyway, she's always sneaking off in the... See?
I'm sorry.
Lupo, there she is.
Casanova.
We are buying Victoria's trousseau.
Only three days to go before the wedding.
Casanova.
No intercourse before the wedding. I'm a traditionalist.
I mean social intercourse, of course.
Paolo. Paolo, let us off.
A secret lover.
He's going to bang her to pieces.
From Rome.
The Inquisitor's office.
"A cesspit of heresy and fornication."
Surely not... Oh, they mean us.
127 complaints against Signor Casanova. Do we know him?
You'll see there are suspicions Casanova enjoys the protection of this very office.
That's absolutely rid...
It's either his neck or it's ours.
It better be his. Get me my notebook.
Oh, dear.
She's completely worn him out.
I found his name.
He's a writer.
"The Subjugation of Women by Bernardo Guardi."
No wonder. He's entered her head and her heart as well.
"Here we live in the midst of masculine domination and what be the result?"
"Half the population is missing from the feast?"
"You have no right to property and government, nay, not an opinion...
"If ever a man wants to have a woman fall in love with him,
all he need to say...
"All he need to say is,
'I have too long dominated the conversation. What are..."'
...your thoughts on the matter? What are your thoughts?
- Meat? I'm the tailor! - So you are. Forgive me.
Thank you, sir.
What are... What are your thoughts on the matter?
My thoughts? Well, I'd say...
No, Lupo. I'm... Could I have some tea?
Of course.
Mother, my fiance is turning up tomorrow. What shall I do?
It's simple. Do your duty.
Is it my duty to marry a man that I don't know just because he's rich?
Yes, it is. Your duty to your father who had your best interest at heart.
Marriage is a safe haven, my darling.
And love?
Love?
Love is something else.
It's the weather being good every day,
because wind and rain are just another kind of good weather.
That's love.
Perhaps when you see him, you'll fall in love with your husband.
He's not my husband yet.
If you go against your father's wishes, we'll continue living in debt,
at the mercy of everyone we owe.
- But if you honour the betrothal... - The contract.
The betrothal
then our troubles will be over.
It's between you and your conscience.
Amen.
- Signor Salvato. - I do come here to make confession.
- What are you doing? - What am I here to confess?
Well, let's see.
Jealousy.
Pride.
Covetousness.
Despair.
And you?
I came to prepare my soul for marriage.
You're troubled, Signorina Bruni.
My troubles are nothing to you, signor, and little enough to me.
To be bartered in marriage is no small thing,
especially for a woman of independent mind.
I see my brother's tongue wags again. In future he can fight his own duels.
- You can't come in. - It's all right. I'm a doctor.
You're not Casanova?
No. I can prove it if you'll show me your chest.
- Are you often in church? - I followed you.
Surely it is your friend Casanova for whom fiancees add spice to the pursuit.
If you knew him, you wouldn't be so quick to condemn him.
If you understood women, you would not be so quick to defend him.
Love is not an affair of a night or a fortnight.
And true love doesn't grow with the number of lovers. It wastes away.
- Where's your instrument? - I'll get it out in a minute.
But you can't blame those who seek love wherever they can.
Perhaps it's merely the murmur of the flesh that hasn't known the flutter of the heart,
meant for an evening but not a lifetime.
But can't that still be love all the same?
It seems you're trying to woo me, Signor Salvato,
by offering to make me a notch on your bedpost.
Come now, we are speaking of Casanova, and I am a different man.
You see, Casanova couldn't understand
that of all the ways love can be true, there...
there is one way.
And that way is the sum of all the others.
Now, I've too long dominated the conversation.
What are your thoughts on the matter?
- What did you just say? - What?
- I'm in hell. - I'm busy.
Another note to your lover? I'd tell him it's all over if I was you.
Go away. I'm marrying Papprizzio.
- What did I do? - Somebody came here
who wanted to read your latest pamphlet before publication.
- What? - Did you show someone my work?
I didn't show anyone anything, on the memory of your father, whom I served well.
Until he fired you for stealing.
- Where's the manuscript? - I took it to the printer's like I always do.
You write, I get it printed under my name, I take the commission.
Everyone's happy except the priests.
- These new shoes, Guardi? - Church gave them to me. They don't fit.
Don't lie.
This is an addition to page five. Take it to the printer's.
Nobody came. Nobody bribed me. Would I be sober if they had?
That's him.
- Here. Add this to chapter one. - Thank you.
Guardi says, "Why should women lace themselves out of their natural shape?"
- Casanova. - Signorina.
I left my window open.
My darling, I have so many windows and so little time.
Burn our corsets.
- What are you doing? - Sorry. Forgive me. It was an involuntary...
Please let me help you.
"In the heart of every woman, there is room for a pet."
"Dogs and cats provide solace and affection."
"How rare is the man who knows that the pet of choice for today's woman
is the intelligent and noble pig!"
- A pig? - I'll pay for the damage. I'm well-endowed.
If you get my... I'm sorry. That came out wrong.
Will you tell your lady that Signor Salvato is here with a gift?
My mistress says the pig cannot come in.
But the animal we'll take.
I have news about the fiance. His name is Papprizzio.
He's from Genoa. He's arriving at noon.
He's rich.
Of course he is.
Everything's turning against us these days, Lupo.
- How much do we owe? - About 1500 lira.
Lay out our second-best suit, Lupo.
Who owns this tub?
I do, sir.
And I'm Pietro Papprizzio, merchant of Genoa.
- And what's your cargo? - Lard.
- Lard? - Finest in the world.
- Tell him, Fulvio. Tell him. - Yes, sir.
Tub of lard.
Do you mean to tell me you've never heard of my lard? We'll have to fix that.
I want to see one of these posters on every canal, street, water corner by morning.
- Understand? - Sign here.
Signor Papprizzio?
- At your service, sir. - On the contrary, I'm at yours.
The family of your fiancee sent me here to greet you and to send you to your palazzo.
But palazzo? I have a reservation at the Hotel Grifasi.
They didn't tell you? The Grifasi is closed.
- Really? Why? - Lupo.
- Rising damp, sir. - Rising damp, indeed.
Palazzo, eh? Well, lead on.
- My servant shall see to your baggage. - I think you have everything under control.
The first thing I'm going to do
is call upon my betrothed
after I make myself presentable, of course.
Yes. And how long does that usually take?
"Casanova bought a pig."
"Casanova took the pig to the Bruni house."
Clear it. Everything.
I'll take that.
Your Grace.
Inquisitore Dalfonso, I am Bishop Pucci.
Oh, Bishop...
I have been instructed to relieve you of your duties here in Venice.
To say that the pope is less than happy with your rate of progress
is an understatement of monumental proportions.
You and your entire staff
have been reassigned to open a mission among the natives of
the equatorial region.
What kind of natives?
Let us just say, shall we, they have a great hunger for religion.
So this place belonged to the libertine Casanova, eh?
Yes, but he ran out on his debts, so
we got the villa at a very reasonable price.
Really? How reasonable?
Lupo?
- 1,600 lira. - Yes.
- Get a receipt. - Of course.
Do I get a bath for my 1,600 lira?
"Casanova bought a pig?"
"Casanova took pig to Bruni house."
"Casanova met with Papprizzio at dockside."
"Took Papprizzio to his house."
Is there anybody here who can explain this?
You sent them all away to be eaten.
Well, then we shall have to do some footwork ourselves.
Papprizzio? The pork fat mogul from Genoa?
We're here to discover heresy and criminal licentiousness.
If there's bacon involved, I dread to imagine the depths of depravity
we're going to find here in Venice.
I'm surprised, but I have a good feeling about this city.
- Do you? - There's a massive market for lard here,
and I plan to use a good old bit of Genoan know-how to penetrate it.
- Good thinking. - Handbills, newspapers.
- That's just what Venice is missing. - That's exactly what I was thinking.
- You have to keep an eye for that servant. - What? He's gone out.
- He's gone out where? - How am I supposed to know?
I've arranged a trinket for my beloved - a little wedding present for my bride-to-be.
Would you like an advanced demonstration?
Yes, please.
- It's very... - That's wonderful. Exquisite.
Really. Yeah.
Who is it?
Was that him?
How am I supposed to know that?
What are we looking for?
I don't know. Something. Anything.
I found the house, sir. Signora Bruni and her daughter
request the pleasure of your company for tea.
Good. Good.
The chartreuse then, I think, Fulvio.
Right away, Master.
I'm certainly looking forward to seeing her.
Hope that she's
not disappointed by me.
Hope that she doesn't think I'm... I don't know.
What's the... What's the word? The expression I'm looking for?
- Rotund? - Excuse me. What did you say?
Would sir require a small snack before tea?
Well, do you see that trunk shaped vaguely like a salami?
- Yes. - It's filled with salami.
- There you are. - Yes.
- Now, very impressive. - Thank you.
- The choice of lime is very slimming. - You're too kind.
I must be off. Didn't I have an appointment?
What? Oh. The publisher.
That was it. To see how my new book is doing.
You're a writer.
- I've been known to scribble a bit. - Bravo.
My master's a famous writer of love and how to please ladies.
You've heard of Bernardo Guardi...
- Lupo, hush. - But he's a friend.
- I'm so sorry. - Bernardo Guardi?
- I can't believe it. - I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to.
You, sir, are Bernardo Guardi?
That's my nom de plume. But you must swear to tell no one.
I swear. On my honour, sir.
My solemn vow. Bernardo Guardi.
Fulvio, this will need some thinking about.
Yes, it does. It's my great honour, sir.
Look at me.
I am.
Now look at that.
Yes, in truth, it is not an exact likeness, no.
Yeah. In Genoa, we call it advertising.
Yes. Fine. But so what of it? If she loves you as you are...
She's never seen me.
- Not even a glimpse. - Really?
Yes. Oh, dear, Master Guardi. Take me under your tutelage, I beg you.
I'll pay you handsomely. Whatever you like, I'll pay it.
You want me to tutor you?
I want you to transform me. Transform me.
My dear man, but you have but an hour until you must you meet her.
I don't want to go. You can't make me go.
As it happens, my new book, which isn't out yet,
deals with the outer man.
You see, the relation between the physical and the spiritual is little understood.
Except by me, of course.
- Master Guardi. - Yes?
Can you make me look like that?
- Yes, I can. - Oh, God.
But it will take courage. It will take time.
- Long confinement to this villa. - Courage. Yes.
- Do you understand? - I understand.
Fulvio. I will send my servant Fulvio to the house of Bruni with a note.
- No need. I will pass that way myself. - Oh, excellent.
Can we start? I want to start right now.
Lupo.
Lovely.
Giovanni! Signor Papprizzio is expected at any moment.
Signor Salvato.
Vittorio, tell Signor Salvato I am not at home.
Now, how strange. I'm sure that I was invited to tea.
- You were? - We're not having tea.
Forgive me. I must have forgotten an invitation.
- You told my servant, I believe. - We were expecting Francesca's fiance.
Indeed. And here he is.
Ladies, forgive me. It is time I presented myself under my true colours.
Signorina Bruni, my name is not Salvato.
You see before you your most devoted and fortunate fiance,
Pietro Papprizzio, all the way from Genoa.
Signor Papprizzio.
All the young women I met back in Genoa concealed their true natures from me,
dazzled by dreams of an empire of pork.
They looked at me and they saw a mountain of lard.
No, no, no. Not at all.
If anything, you need fattening up.
I don't like thin men. Francesca's father was enormous.
Nevertheless, I remained true to the fiancee that I'd never seen.
But I wanted to make sure before I declared myself she likewise had kept herself for me
and hadn't been seduced by the first charmer that came along with a...
Pig.
Perhaps you are the charmer you warned me against, signor.
I'm engaged to be married, and so far all I know about you is...
Perhaps you remember sending me this.
"To Pietro Papprizzio from Francesca Bruni,
with my hopes."
Perhaps I should've brought the other letters you wrote me.
The only desire I have is that you'll come to love me.
And if you cannot or if there is someone else for whom your heart beats in secret,
I shall release you from your engagement.
There isn't! There isn't.
His Eminence, Bishop Pucci.
- Perhaps I've come at a bad time. - No. No, Your Excellency. We're delighted.
I should have sent word, but since I've just arrived in Venice
and as your husband, the late ambassador, was so regarded by the Holy See,
the pope was anxious to be remembered.
Allow me to introduce my son-in-law-to-be Signor Papprizzio.
- Signor Papprizzio. - Bishop.
- My daughter Francesca. - My dear.
What is the pope's most feared inquisitor doing in Venice, Bishop Pucci?
Francesca...
No, no. I'm delighted that my reputation precedes me.
The Vatican sent me to deal with moral problems.
- What kind of moral problems, Bishop?