- Previously: - Hannibal! - We are as close as we are
ever going to get to catching this man.
I'm dismantling who I was and moving it brick by brick.
It's the last stage of a transformation. We could disappear now.
You've set some sort of trap and you're goading Hannibal into it.
- How can you be sure he's not goading you? - I can't.
I have begun to question your actions
with regards to my attack. I am no longer your therapist.
You are dangerous.
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♪♪♪
(engine sound)
♪♪♪
(engine stopping)
(sirens and traffic from afar)
(nothing but music from this point on)
(Ambient sound returns.)
- Antony Dimmond. - Boris Jakov.
- I'd offer a hand, but... - It's a double-fisted
kind of bash.
Do you know Roman well?
You were staring with the thinly-veiled disdain
of a man who does. I was his TA at Cambridge.
He was insufferable even then.
Have you read his books?
(whispering): They're terrible.
You know they're terrible, you're just too polite to say.
Blink if you agree.
See?
That doesn't stop him squatting over his keyboard
and depositing a fresh one every six to eight months.
It takes me six to eight months to write one line.
Why?
Poetry is hard.
Too hard for Roman. Well, it's easier for him
to slide into academia and dissect the work of others
than it is to stand by his own words.
One can appreciate another's words
without dissecting them.
Though, on occasion, dissection is the only thing that will do.
(glass shattering)
Bonsoir.
(engine starting)
Bonsoir?
Bonsoir.
(soft scratching)
♪♪♪
(classical tenor voice)
Bonsoir.
(theme music)
You really are the Devil.
Certainly seem to enjoy it.
You have a click in your hoof. The Devil has been a yoke
on the neck of humanity since we first began to think and dream.
I for a much shorter time. You admit the yoke.
Smells of candy apples
and thyme.
You smoked me in thyme.
Smoked, glazed, served on a sugar cane quill.
You will be falling off the bone.
Well, of course. And with these rarified dishes
you so carefully prepare...
do we all... taste different?
Everyone has their flavor.
Cannibalism was standard behavior among our ancestors.
The missing link was only missing because we ate him.
This isn't cannibalism, Abel.
It's only cannibalism if we're equals.
This is only cannibalism if you eat me.
But you just feel this is the natural order of things.
Everybody gets et.
Be he fat or be he lean.
With my last leg standing next to me,
I should still wrestle with the urges to fight or flee.
It's called "terminal restlessness."
The body fills with adrenaline and feels compelled to go-go-go.
"Go-go-go"? I've already gone up and gone.
This is posthumous.
You're not dead yet, Abel. You still have to eat.
No, I don't.
At this point, there is absolutely nothing I have to do.
But I shouldn't spoil the fairy tale, should I?
You and your little gingerbread house.
Let it be a fairy tale, then.
Once upon a time...
(classical music)
- Bellissima. - Grazie.
Dr. Fell,
I hope you translate as well as you waltz.
- Mrs. Fell. - Our new appointee
was confirmed by the board after close questioning.
You've examined him in medieval Italian
and I will not deny
his language is...
admirable...
- Thank you. - For a straniero.
Are you familiar with the personalities
of pre-Renaissance Florence?
I think not.
Dr. Fell might hold in his hand -
in his non-Italian hand -
a note from Dante Alighieri himself.
Would he recognize it?
I think not.
Professor Sogliato, would you do me the honor of a dance?
Of course.
"Allegro mi sembrava Amor"
"tenendo meo core in mano,
"e ne le braccia avea madona involta in un drappo dormend.
"Poi la svegliava, e d'esto core ardendo
"lei paventosa umilmente pascea;
appreso gir lo ne vedea piangendo."
Dante's first sonnet.
It fascinated Cavalcanti. The eating of the heart is a powerful image.
If he's such an expert on Dante,
let him lecture on Dante, to the Studiolo.
Let him face them.
Extempore.
I'm happy to sing for my supper.
Professor Sogliato.
We are among the palaces built six hundred years ago
by the merchant princes, the kingmakers
and the connivers of Renaissance Florence.
As connivers of modern Florence.
I've found a peace here
that I would preserve.
I've killed hardly anybody during our residence.
You created a vacancy
at the Palazzo Capponi by removing the former curator.
A simple process requiring a few seconds' work
on the old man...
and a modest outlay for two bags of cement.
You no longer have ethical concerns, Hannibal.
You have aesthetical ones.
Ethics become aesthetics.
You seem more interested in making appearances
than maintaining them.
Would you?
If this is about my position at the Palazzo,
once the path was cleared,
I won the job fairly.
On my merits.
Yes, even the most contentious Florentines
can't resist the verse of Dante ringing off of frescoed walls.
One contentious Florentine can.
Have you given serious thought to eating Professor Sogliato?
My killing Sogliato now would not preserve the peace.
(squeaky faucet)
Your peace is without morality.
Morality doesn't exist.
Only morale.
How you feel today.
How do YOU feel today?
I still believe I am in conscious control
of my actions.
Given your history...
that's a good day.
(water dripping)
(panting)
If you think you're about to catch Hannibal,
it's because he wants you to think that.
Don't fool yourself
into thinking he's not in control of what's happening.
(cocking of a gun)
May I get dressed?
You may.
What have you done, Hannibal?
I've taken off my person suit.
You let them see you.
I let them see enough.
How does it feel...
being seen?
Well, you're in no position to ask, Dr. Du Maurier.
You ended our patient- psychiatrist relationship.
I lacked the appropriate skills to continue your therapy.
I never found you to be lacking.
I'm sorry I didn't provide you
with a suitable substitute for therapy.
Is Will Graham still alive?
Will Graham was not a suitable substitute for therapy.
What was he?
Is this professional curiosity?
Almost entirely.
Do you trust me?
Not entirely.
Are you taking into consideration
my beliefs about your intentions?
My intentions?
Human motivation can be little more than lucid greed.
Greed...
and blind optimism.
You're optimistic I won't kill you.
(uncocking of the gun.)
(bells ringing)
Due bottiglie di Bâtard-Montrachet
e li tartufi bianchi, per favore.
Hello!
Bonjour!
Mr. Jakov, isn't it?
We met in Paris a few months back.
Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,
it's just... here I was and then, there you were...
I never forget a face.
- Antony Dimmond. - Nice to be remembered.
- You're hard to forget. - What are you doing in Florence?
Are you working with Roman? Dr. Fell?
I heard he took an appointment at the Capponi library.
Yes, he's the new curator and translator at the Palazzo Capponi.
Evidently, the last one eloped with a woman
or someone's money or both.
That's the commonly held belief.
- You just missed Roman. - Did I?
Was hoping to take the piss.
Spare the piss for the time being. If you're free,
my wife and I would love to have you for dinner.
Listen.
They prefer eating in company.
I've kept cochlear gardens since I was a young man,
fattening snails on herbs and vine leaves.
Like all of us, what they eat
greatly influences and enhances their flavor.
When I'm not busy eating myself,
you wish me to be eating oysters,
drinking sweet wines and snacking on acorns.
All to make me tastier?
Oh yes. And you are making them tastier.
And I you.
Imagine what you must taste like.
Won't be long until someone's taking a bite out of you.
You're becoming brighter, Abel.
Dying hasn't dulled you one bit.
The snails are certainly having a lovely experience,
fattened on me
in a red-wine marinade.
They have no idea
they're going to be eaten.
We do.
♪♪♪
(jazz music)
How well do you know the Fells?
As well as anybody. Which'd be not really.
Lydia a friend of yours?
Not really.
I'd be surprised to hear she had one.
We share a mutual detestation.
She disapproves of my disapproval.
What do you disapprove of?
Roman, mainly. Lydia isn't quite bright enough to see
I'm just intimidated. Roman does, of course.
How he loves to strike fear.
Dante wrote that fear is almost as bitter as death.
Dante wasn't dead when he wrote it.
Are you traveling alone, Antony?
The only way I travel.
Oh!
Roman is speaking to the Studiolo Friday, on Dante.
You should come. Sounds appropriately hellish.
Are you avoiding meats?
I'm trying not to eat anything with a central nervous system.
Oysters, acorns and Marsala.
That's what ancient Romans would feed animals
to improve their flavor.
My husband
has a very sophisticated palate.
He's very particular
about how I taste.
Is it that kind of party?
It's not that kind of party.
No,
it really isn't.
Shame.
You were both suddenly so fascinating.
Hm!
- Buonasera. - (both): Buonasera.
You let him go.
What would you have me do, Bedelia?
Due bottiglie di Bâtard-Montrachet
e li tartufi bianchi, per favore.
Grazie.
(shaky breathing)
(moan)
Bedelia.
He attacked me.
Is that your blood?
No.
You were defending yourself?
I was reckless.
This wasn't reckless violence.
It was a controlled use of force.
I know what happened.
Do you?
He was your patient before he was mine.
He died under your care.
You were not defending yourself.
I can help you tell the version of events
you want to be told.
I can help you...
if you ask me to.
Will you help me?
In accord with my own taste for the pre-Renaissance,
I present the case of Pietro della Vigna,
whose treachery earned him a place in Dante's Hell.
He was disgraced and blinded for betraying
his emperor's trust.
Dante's pilgrim finds him in the seventh level
of the Inferno, reserved for suicides.
Like Judas Iscariot, he died by hanging.
Judas and Pietro della Vigna are linked in Dante's Inferno.
Betrayal, hanging...
then, linked since antiquity,
the image appearing again and again in art.
This is the earliest known depiction
of the Crucifixion, carved on an ivory box in Gaul
about A.D. four hundred. It includes the death by hanging
of Judas, his face upturned to the branch that suspends him.
On the doors of the Benevento Cathedral,
we see Judas hanging with his bowels falling out.
And here, from a fifteenth-century edition
of The Inferno, is Pietro della Vigna's body
hanging from a bleeding tree.
I won't belabor the parallels with Judas Iscariot.
Betrayal, hanging, self-destruction.
"Io fei gibetto a me de le mie case."
"I make my own home be my gallows."
Mr. Dimmond. Welcome. Please join us.
We were just about to discuss the matter of chewing in Dante.
(applause)
Thank you for your kind attention.
Thank you.
Would you say I secured my position, Professor Sogliato?
The Studiolo seem... satisfied.
Satisfied?
I thought the applause was downright enthusiastic
in its soft and dusty way.
Dottore Fell is a friend of yours?
I was his TA at Cambridge. The tales I could tell.
Please do.
What kind of friend would I be?
What kind of friend, indeed.
Dottore.
An exposition of Atrocious Torture Instruments
appeals to connoisseurs of the very worst in mankind.
Now that ceaseless exposure
has calloused us into the lewd and the vulgar,
it is instructive to see what still seems wicked to us.
What still slaps the clammy flab
of our submissive consciousness hard enough to get our attention?
What wickedness has your attention, Mr. Dimmond?
Yours...
"Dr. Fell."
I have no delusions about morality;
if I did, I would've gone to la polizia.
I'm curious as to what fate
befell Dr. Fell
to see you here in his stead.
You may have to strap me to the breaking wheel
to loosen my tongue. You overestimate
my affection for the genuine Dr. Fell.
Clearly, you found him as distasteful as I did.
On the contrary.
We can twist ourselves into all manner
of uncomfortable positions just to maintain appearances,
with or without a breaking wheel.
Are you here to twist me into an uncomfortable position?
I'm here to help you untwist...
to our mutual benefit.
(Thump!)
(panting)
Observe or participate?
What?
Are you,
in this very moment, observing or participating?
Observing.
You say you're observing, but this...
this is participation, Bedelia.
Did you know what he would do?
I would prefer you answer honestly.
- I was curious. - You were curious
what would happen.
You were curious what Mr. Dimmond would do.
What I would do.
Did you anticipate our thoughts?
Counter-thoughts? Rationalizations?
Yes.
Is this what you expected?
Yes.
That's participation.
(panting and moaning)
(loud cracking)
What have you gotten yourself into, Bedelia?
Shall I hang up your coat?
Would you rather I extended you
the same kindness as the escargot?
Eating me without my knowledge?
Well... I find knowing to be far more powerful.
Why do you think I'm allowing this?
Why do you think 'I'm' allowing this?
'Cause snails aren't the only creatures
who prefer eating with company.
If only that company could be Will Graham.
(dropped utensil clinking)
I'm just fascinated to know how you will feel
when all of this...
happens to you.
(theme music)
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