Hannibal: I kept cochlear gardens as a young man to attract fireflies. Their larvae would devour many times their own body weight in snails. Fuel. To power a transformation into a delicate creature of such beauty.
Bedelia: To the misfortune of the snail.
Hannibal: Snails follow their nature as surely as those that eat them.
Bedelia: Fireflies live very brief lives.
Hannibal: Better to live true to yourself for an instant than never know it.
Bedelia: Not like Will Graham does.
Hannibal: An insect lacks morality to agonise over. Will agonises about inevitable change.
Bedelia: Almost anything can be trained to resist its instinct. A shepherd dog doesn't savage the sheep.
Hannibal: But it wants to. Will has reached a state of moral dumbfounding. Empathy and reciprocity.
Bedelia: Reciprocity. If we keep track of incoming and outgoing intentions, Will Graham is on route to kill you while you lie in wait to kill him. Now that's reciprocity.
Rinaldo: Dr. Fell?
Hannibal: Yes.
Rinaldo: I am Inspector Rinaldo Pazzi from the Questura di Firenze. I was wondering if you ever met your predecessor?
Hannibal: Never met him. Read several of his monographs.
Rinaldo: The officers who first investigated checked the Palazzo for any sort of note. Farewell note, suicide note... Found nothing.
Hannibal: The going assumption is, he eloped with a woman. And her money.
Rinaldo: What is the going assumption regarding Professor Sogliato?
Hannibal: Still no word?
Rinaldo: You may have had the last word with Sogliato. Your colleague... Signor Albizzi, tells me no one has spoken to Professor Sogliato since he declined your invitation to dinner. He's the second to have disappeared from the Palazzo.
Hannibal: Like any good investigator, I'm sure you're sifting the circumstances for profit.
Rinaldo: Both were bachelors. Well-respected scholars with orderly lives. They had some savings, nothing much.
Hannibal: Commendator Pazzi?
Rinaldo: Yes?
Hannibal: I think you're a Pazzi of the Pazzi, am I correct?
Rinaldo: How do you know that?
Hannibal: You resemble a figure at the Della Robbia rondels in your family's chapel at Santa Croce.
Rinaldo: Yeah... yeah. That was Andrea de' Pazzi depicted as John the Baptist.
Hannibal: Then there's the most famous Pazzi of all, Francesco. He attempted to assassinate Lorenzo the Magnificent in the cathedral at Mass, in 1478.
Rinaldo: Yeah. The Pazzi family were all brought low on that Sunday. If you come upon anything, Dr. Fell, anything personal from the missing men, will you call me?
Hannibal: Of course, Commendatore.
Hannibal: I prefer the sound and feel of the harpsichord. More alive, the music arrives like experience. Sudden and entire. The piano has the quality of a memory. Today has the quality of a memory.
Bedelia: You've met Inspector Pazzi before.
Hannibal: In my youth. We shared a fondness for Botticelli, and crossed paths in the Uffizi Gallery beneath "La Primavera".
Bedelia: Does he know... what you are?
Hannibal: When I looked into his face and stood close enough to smell him, I was well aware that all the elements of epiphany were present.
Bedelia: And yet here you are, free to tell me all about it.
Hannibal: He must wait and lurk and think. It's too soon to flush his quarry. He's deciding what to do.
Bedelia: Someone's put a price on your head.
Hannibal: As an early-warning system, a bounty is better than radar. It inclines authorities everywhere to forsake their duty and scramble after me privately.
Bedelia: Should Rinaldo Pazzi join Professor Sogliato and the late curator of the Palazzo down in the damp? Should his body be found after an apparent suicide?
Hannibal: No. Rinaldo Pazzi, a Pazzi of the Pazzi, chief inspector at the Florentine Questura, has to decide what his honour is worth.
Bedelia: What is it worth to be known as the man who caught Hannibal Lecter?
Hannibal: For a policeman, credit has a short half-life. Better to sell me.
Rinaldo: Dr. Fell?
Hannibal: Buonasera, commendatore.
Rinaldo: Buonasera, Dottore Fell.
Hannibal: Back so soon?
Rinaldo: Given the nature of your exhibition and the contents of our last conversation, I brought something I thought you might like to see. It was supposedly worn by Francesco de' Pazzi when he met his end. My family's guilt cast in iron.
Hannibal: A scold's bridle. May I?
Rinaldo: Of course.
Hannibal: A wonderful heirloom. I'm so glad you stopped by, Commendator Pazzi, as I have a family heirloom for you.
Rinaldo: Yeah?
Hannibal: Beneath the figure is written a name. Can you make it out?
Rinaldo: It says "Pazzi".
Hannibal: This is your ancestor, Francesco. Hanging outside the Palazzo. This particular illustration is "bowels out". I've seen others "bowels in". By all accounts, Francesco was led astray by thirty pieces of silver from the hand of the Papal banker. It's hard to see, but here's where the archbishop bit him. Eyes wild as he choked, the archbishop locked his teeth in Pazzi's flesh. On a related subject, I must confess, I've been giving very serious thought to doing the same.
Hannibal: Can you hear me, Signor Pazzi? Take a deep breath while you can. Clear your head. I haven't had a bite all day. Actually, your liver and kidneys would be suitable for dinner right away. Tonight, even. But the rest of the meat should hang at least a week in the current cool conditions. I didn't see the forecast. Did you? I gather that means no. If you tell me what I need to know, Commendatore, it would be convenient for me to leave without my meal. I will ask you the questions and then we'll see. You can trust me, you know? Though I expect you find trust difficult, knowing yourself. When the police didn't come, it was clear that you had sold me. Was it Mason Verger you sold me to?
Rinaldo: Yes.
Hannibal: Thank you. I called the number on his "wanted" site once, far from here, just for fun. Have you told anyone at the Questura about me? Is that a no? Excuse me. Pronto.
Alana: Inspector Pazzi, my name is Alana Bloom. You don't know me, but I know your benefactor.
Hannibal: Hello, Alana. I'm afraid the inspector is otherwise occupied.
Alana: Is he dead?
Hannibal: There is nothing I would love more than to be able to chat with you, Alana, but you caught me at a rather awkward moment. Nice to hear your voice.
Hannibal: So, Commendatore, which do you think? Bowels in or bowels out? Out, I think.
Hannibal: Hello, Jack. Did you get my note? I'm truly sorry about Bella. For her, night and day must've been very much the same in the end. When she could no longer stir or speak... did you speak for her? I imagine you were capable of giving any medication Bella may have needed in the night. Did you practise injections on an orange, Jack? What medication did you give her in the end? Was it too much? Just enough? I brought Bella back from death and you've returned her to it. Is that where you're taking me, Jack? How will you feel when I'm gone?