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Nobody in?

- Shop. - Coming.

- Ah. Good morning, Master Rembrandt. - Morning.

Good morning, gentlemen. What can I do for you?

I want some colors. Some golden bronze, yellow ochre, bull's blood -

Rembrandt, don't be stubborn. You must paint the officers of the Civic Guard.

- Think of what they'll pay. - I don't like their faces.

Now leave me alone. I'm busy painting Saskia.

Ultramarine, cobalt blue and mixed vermilion.

Rembrandt, how is Saskia?

Saskia's very well.

- Where's your Flemish green? - There, on your right, Master Rembrandt.

She's in a very delicate state of health, Rembrandt.

Saskia's never been better in her life.

- What's this? - A new blue.

- A French painter invented it. - ♪ Flowers ♪

- Hmm. I'll have some of this. - ♪ Lovely flowers ♪

Lovely flowers, Master.

Take them to my wife. You know, my house in the Jodenbreestraat.

Ah, I know it, Master. How many bunches?

- Take the lot. - Ah. I know, the whole barrow.

My lucky day, Master.

- Etching needles? - Try the English needles, Master Rembrandt.

I think I will. Good brushes.

- Here, Master Rembrandt. - Master Rembrandt, look.

- Hmm! What have you got there? - Perfect Italian craftsmanship.

A real work of art.

I've been looking for something like this for a long time.

I'll paint Saskia wearing this.

I'll have it.

Uh, 5,000 florins, Master Rembrandt.

My agent'll see about that.

It's not worth more than 3,000. It's madness, Rembrandt.

You'll have to paint something out of the ordinary to pay for that.

You'll have to paint the officers of the Civic Guard.

All right! I'll paint the officers of the Civic Guard.

The red fire of the rubies on the whiteness of Saskia's neck.

The goddess Flora.

Saskia needs every consideration, Rembrandt.

Saskia has every consideration, Doctor.

She only gets up when I come home, to sit for the picture.

Titus, you must come now.

Your mother has to rest.

Come along. She has to sleep for an hour.

Father will be here presently.

Then she has to get up and put on a pretty dress and look fresh and well.

Father's going to paint her.

- Say good-bye. - Good-bye.

Come along.

- The master will be home in an hour. - Which will it be, Geertje?

The brocade dress with the purple flowers.

The gold shoes, the lace shawl...

the gold hair ornament, the net and the jewel box.

If the Lady Saskia doesn't call you in an hour, go and waken her.

You're a fool, Rembrandt.

Oh, Rembrandt.

- Come along. - Move along.

Come along.

- Come and have a drink with us, Rembrandt. - You promised our picture would be next.

Come on. Let's go and settle it.

- Come on. - You'd better go. You can paint Saskia another day.

Yes. Come on.

This is the new pupil, Ferdinand Bol. Show him what to do.

How much does your father pay for you?

- Twenty-five florins a month. - Yes, it's a lot of money. We pay the same.

If our fathers paid everything they'd ever had...

it still wouldn't be enough for half an hour of his teaching.

- He'll be here any minute now. - Geertje, I want you.

- Run along. - How is Saskia?

- She's all right. She's sleeping. - When he comes in, is she gonna get up and sit for him?

- Most certainly she will. - Well, she's not to do it. He must be told.

He doesn't know how ill she is. We must get a doctor.

I won't have a doctor in the house. I won't have his life upset.

- Very well. I'll tell him how ill she is. - If you say a word -

The Lady Saskia!

- Well, what is it? - I don't know.

- Shall I get Dr. Tulp? - Yes.

You'd better go across the street for Dr. Menasseh as well.

Gentlemen. To the greatest painter of our age, Rembrandt van Rijn!

He ought to pay us for letting him paint such a handsome lot of fellows.

A master like Rembrandt is never in need of models, gentlemen.

Oh, yes, he is. He can't go on painting his wife all the time.

How should a man want to paint his wife after seven years of marriage?

There was a man in the land of Uz...

and the Lord gave him all that the human heart could desire.

But beyond all, this man was in love with his wife.

- He must have had a secret. - He had.

I'd like to know it.

He had a vision once.

A creature half-child, half-woman, half-angel, half-lover brushed against him...

and of a sudden he knew...

that when one woman gives herself to you, you possess all women -

women of every age and race and kind.

And more than that- the moon, the stars...

all miracles and legends are yours.

The brown-skinned girls who inflame your senses with their play...

the cool yellow-haired women who entice and escape you...

the gentle ones who serve you...

the slender ones who torment you...

the mothers who bore and suckled you-

all women whom God created out of the teeming fullness of the earth...

are yours in the love of one woman.

- How? - Throw a purple garment...

lightly over her shoulders...

and she becomes the queen of Sheba.

Lay your tousled head blindly upon her breast...

and she is a Delilah waiting to enthral you.

Take her garments from her...

strip the last veil from her body...

and she is a chaste Susanna...

covering her nakedness with fluttering hands.

Gaze upon her as you’d gaze upon a thousand strange women...

but never call her yours -

for her secrets are inexhaustible.

You will never know them all.

Call her by one name only.

I call her Saskia.

To Saskia!

Master, you have to come at once.

Lady Saskia.

Lady Saskia's-

Dr. Tulp's coming over too. They should be there by now.

Of course, they ought to have been sent for a long time ago...

but I don't think it's too late yet. They're -

Master, there's nothing to worry about. Really.

Where's Rembrandt?

- Is he deliberately trying to insult his guests? - It is an insult.

Have you ever heard of a man who refused to be present at his own wife's funeral feast?

- Where is he? - Where do you suppose he is? In his studio.

But is this a proper time for him to be working...

with the funeral chimes still ringing in his ears?

The equerry to the prince of Orange.

I'm going to fetch him.

See? She's wearing her new necklace.

I can still see her.

Soon it will fade. It'll be as lost to me as her body's lost in the grave.

I haven't got much time.

I have the honor, sir, in the name of His Highness the prince...

to convey to you the deepest sympathy of the House of Orange...

in your sad bereavement.

Did you say something to me?

I have the honor, sir, in the name of His Highness the prince...

to convey to you the deepest sympathy of the House of Orange...

in your sad bereavement.

Thank you.

Finished.

Yes, it's a great moment.

No greater and no less than when a shoemaker finishes a pair of shoes.

- Yes, its a great picture. - Yes.

The greatest, the longest, the largest and the darkest.

- They'll jump out of their boots. - Oh, they'll go down on their knees.

Go on. Run along now. The guests will be here presently.

My lord burgomaster, ladies and gentlemen...

this is a memorable day in the history of the Civic Guard.

In the name of Their Lordships, I request you to unveil...

Rembrandt van Rijn's masterpiece.

Look at this -

Goodness gracious! Oh!

That helmet might be mine.

No, it must be those legs.

And a fine pair of legs for all that money.

He's given Banning Cocq a clubfoot.

- And Rombout Kemp a hunchback. - Rombout Kemp? Where?

Is that supposed to be me, that grinning ape?

Be honest. What do you think of the picture?

- Well, Rembrandt - - No evasions. What do you think of it?

I can't say. I don't understand it.

- I can't see anything in it. - You can't see anything?

I can see nothing but shadows, darkness and confusion.

You surely don't expect us to take this as serious art?

Something's got to be done. They're furious.

They're making fun of it. Laughing. Can't you hear them?

It's no good standing there twiddling your mustache.

They say they won't pay. They say you must paint a fresh picture.

What on earth did you think you were doing? This is really beyond a joke.

- I agree with you. It is. - Go on. Say something to them.

You're not suggesting that I should apologize, are you?

I'm asking you to save the situation. That's all.

Think of what's at stake.

"Save the situation."

All right.

Captain Banning Cocq.

You had something to say to me.

Well, Rembrandt, you undertook to paint...

- the portraits of 16 of my officers at 200 florins a head. - Yes.

Well, on this picture of the 16, only six are recognizable.

Surely you can't expect the remaining 10 to pay for portraits that do not exist.

Ludwick, 10 of these gentlemen have nothing to pay.

Is there anything else?

Yes, Rembrandt. There is something else.

You undertook to paint a good, satisfactory picture for our mess room.

But this-this thing is - It's a monstrosity.

Look at it for yourself.

Is that supposed to represent the officers...

of the noble Civic Guard, a collection of gentlemen?

Do those look like gentlemen of rank and position?

I wasn't trying to paint gentlemen of rank and position.

I wanted to paint men - soldiers.

A company marching out.

Gentlemen of rank and position indeed.

Here's your gentlemen of rank, and what's underneath it?

And this, and this, and this!

Your nose is painted by bad liquor.

Your mouth is reeking with bawdy kisses.

Vanity and stupidity are written all over your face.

The only pretty thing about you are your ruffs and your breastplates.

And the only distinguished thing about you are your hats.

- Well, how many people are coming? - How many! You'll see them.

Impertinent lout. I'll teach you to answer me like that when I speak to you.

- When the master comes home, you'll be sent packing. - That's all right. I am packing.

- You just wait. - I've waited long enough.

Twenty-five good florins a month to a master who's the laughingstock of the town?

- That's a lie. - I'm leaving him.

And you can wait and hear what I've got to say to him.

- Well, where are the guests? - Aren't we guests enough for your fine dinner?

- Haven't you got something to say to me? - No, sir.

Wasn't it something about 25 florins is too much...

for a master that's being derided by the whole town?

No, sir.

I ought to know something about faces.

But I might be mistaken.

- Yes, sir. - But you're gonna leave me, Govert Flinck.

You go to a better master. You'll be rich and successful.

I want dinner.

Get out, all of you.

Not very cheerful tonight.

This'll put new life into you.

Good health.

Dutchman's mother's milk. The staff of life in a stone bottle.

And now I'll show you how we drink it in Leyden, where I come from.

Come on! Come on, Geertje.

Get your glass. Come on.

Look at him. Flinck!

Get up, you drunken swine.

You're a good lad, Fabrizius.

You're good too, Dirxie.

You're a good lad, and you must leave me for a better master.

I'll never, never leave you, Master.

For a better master, I said.

You're the greatest.

Every man has a destined path.

If it leads him into the wilderness, he's got to follow it...

with his head high and a smile on his lips.

But you are following the right path, Master.

You've known success.

What is success?

A soldier can reckon his success in victories.

The merchant, in money.

But my world is insubstantial.

I live in a beautiful, blinding, swirling mist.

The world can offer me nothing.

What I need is a woman I can call my wife.

No good. Most of them are his own work. They won't fetch anything.

Here's a Rubens sketch.

A bit of antique sculpture.

Those glasses and beakers - they're genuine.

And now the jewels, Dirxie. The casket.

The jewels. The casket.

Very well.

Come on. Lot of vultures.

Daylight for you. See what you're getting.

Oh.

Take everything anybody's got left in the world.

Jewels. A casket.

There it is.

Where are the jewels?

We've eaten them. How do you suppose we manage to live?

What are you doing here?

- Get out. - Keep calm, young gentleman.

These gentlemen are here on business. You wouldn't understand. Come, child.

No. I want to know what's going on.

Uh, show him the distraint order.

The distraint order of the Court of Bankruptcy.

- You see, Titus, your father owes money. - He'll pay it.

It's a great deal of money. He owes it to the tax collector...

to the greengrocer - to everybody.

And they all come to me because I'm his agent.

I've lost thousands over him myself. We've got to get our money somehow.

Is there no other way?

Must you take away his house, everything he has?

He might go to the prince, solicit a commission or a grant.

If he asks for a commission, he'll have to learn to paint properly.

My father paints as he pleases.

Listen, child. You go to your room, and don't waste your time painting and drawing.

Look what it brings you to. Come on. Get on with your studies.

♪ Don't walk so fast, my gentle sirs ♪

♪ For time you cannot leave behind ♪

♪ Once your mortal souls are shriven ♪

♪ You'll find eternity in heaven ♪

♪ Therefore don't stay but give today ♪

♪ To him that gives is given ♪♪

Your business doesn't seem to prosper today.

- It's no worse than yours. - What do you know about me and my business?

Everyone knows you. You're the man who paints beggars.

Some people say you're no better than a beggar yourself.

I like the look of you. You've got the head of a tragic prophet.

I don't like the look of you. You talk like a fine gentleman...

but you're nothing but a bad painter.

You old scoundrel. What do you mean by calling me a bad painter?

If you were a good painter, there'd be no need for you to paint beggars.

Decent painters paint decent people -

gentlemen of rank...

fine ladies, kings.

I do paint kings.

I'll make an Old Testament king out of you.

- How much? - How much do you want?

If you were a decent painter, I'd ask half a florin.

- I'm losing business all the time. - It's a bargain. You shall have your half florin.

Thanks.

- I haven't got any money with me. I'll - - What did I say?

You're not a decent painter.

♪ Don't walk so fast, my gentle sirs ♪

- ♪ For time you cannot ♪♪ - All right. All right.

I want to paint that royal scoundrelly face of yours.

Now you stop here and don't move.

I'll come back with your blood money.

Don't walk so fast, my gentle sir.

♪ For time you cannot leave behind ♪

Thank you kindly, madam.

Good day, Smuts.

I came out without any money. I need half a florin. Would you loan it to me?

- Half a florin? In cash? - It isn't much good to me in sugar or cloves.

That reminds me, Rembrandt. You owe me rather a large bill for sugar and cloves.

- Are you frightened you're not gonna get your money back? - Oh, I didn't say so, Rembrandt.

- Are you gonna lend it to me or not? - Well, you were a good customer once.

I should say I was. Put it on the bill. Don't forget to send in your account on quarter day.

Good day.

Good day.

Debit half a florin to charities.

The young prince arrives at Amsterdam today...

with his English bride, the Stuart princess.

There will be a big reception at the town hall.

- Well, what should he do? - Get his name put on the list of petitioners.

He should remind the prince that his father was his patron once...

and ask for a commission or a grant.

All right. He shall go to the prince.

- And paint properly. - And paint properly.

He shall paint properly.

- Where is she? - At the front door.

- That's fine. Then she won't hear us. - But there were some men here.

Look at him. Isn't he King Saul to the life?

- Yes, but old Ludwick and the lawyer Heertsbeeke - - Never mind about that. Come on.

All right.

Now, you old scarecrow. Put down your stick and take off those rags and get up on the throne.

- Up where? - Up there.

Careful.

Titus, the gold brocade and the purple cloak.

Oh.

Put this ring on your finger.

You needn't try and pocket that. It's only imitation.

So the young gentleman's going to play to me, is he?

Is that the best you can do for me? I thought I was supposed to be a king.

A real king ought to have dozens of beautiful females...

lying around on cushions...

and offering him drinks.

You're an old king, and you've had all the women you want.

What's more, the evil spirit has entered into you.

Has it? What's that?

Have you never heard the story of King Saul?

King S -

Um, I never heard of King Saul.

Saul was a great king...

and a great hero of his people.

Mighty and strong, the wind of heaven filled his breast...

and the hair grew on his head like a lion's mane.

But the spirit of the Lord was not upon him...

and he that hath not the spirit of the Lord within him...

all the power of the world and the riches of the earth...

shall not avail, for his heart will be troubled.

Now, at this time...

the boy David was tending his father's sheep.

He was a comely youth...

ruddy and of a beautiful countenance...

but he was poor and despised of men.

And the Lord spoke: "It matters not what a man sees...

"for a man sees only what is before his eyes...

but God sees into the heart."

And the king was troubled by an evil spirit...

so that he cried out in the night and could not sleep, and his heart hardened.

Then his friends brought the boy David to him...

for he was a cunning player on the harp and a good voice sang out of him.

And he played that night before the king...

until the evil spirit departed from him...

and peace entered his soul.

So he played and sang, the future king of Israel...

before the king who was to make way for him.

The rising star before the waning star.

The bright light before the fading one.

God's chosen...

before him whom God had forsaken.

And he sang this song:

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;

"He leadeth me beside the still waters.

"He restoreth my soul; He guideth me in the paths of righteousness.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...

"I will fear no evil...

"for thou art with me.

Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."

Open the door.

Open the door!

I know you’re in there. I've got something to tell you.

I'll tell you something that's more important than your work.

You'll sing a different tune when you find yourself without a roof over your head.

Stop that noise!

He still thinks he's the master.

A master who's going to be driven out of his own house like a beggar. Like a worthless beggar!

They don't seem to think much of our profession here.

Stay where you are. We're working.

Open this door. Titus!

- Titus, tell your father to open the door. - Father...

please don't be angry, but I think it would be better if you opened the door.

Open the door!

Open the door!

The bailiff's men have been here. They're going to seize the house.

We're going to be flung into the street without a moment's notice.

You won't have a thing left to call your own - not even the bed you sleep in.

- I don't care! - You don't care.

You stand there and see ruin staring you in the face, and you don't raise a finger.

Look at you.

So untidy.

Beard all over your face.

Listen. You've gotta go to the prince. It's your last chance.

Tell him how much his father thought of you.

Say that, through no fault of your own, you've fallen upon evil times.

Make him give you some commissions or a grant of money.

Use your common sense.

Attend to your business.

Paint the sort of pictures people want nowadays.

Look at Flinck. He used to be one of your worst pupils.

Now he owns a carriage and pair. Why?

Because he paints high-class pictures...

and gives the people what they want for their money.

You'd better do the same. Otherwise you'll be ruined and us along with you.

I've worked and slaved and given my life for this house and the boy...

for a man who repays me with nothing but ingratitude.

The best years of my life have gone in work and worry.

Now I'm to be turned into the streets to starve.

He won't raise a finger to save those he's brought to ruin and disgrace.

All right. I'll go to the prince.

You will?

Oh!

Have to brush you before you can go to see anybody.

We shan't be working anymore today.

There. And I was just feeling in the right mood.

I might not feel like it another day.

You're not really going, are you?

Listen, Titus.

If anything happens to me, you go to the country, to your mother's people.

- You'll have a fine life. - No, I mean to be a painter, like you.

Don't you wish for that.

Don't you want to be a painter.

Here now.

What are you doing here?

Here, take this.

It's only imitation.

- Where are you going? - Well, we're both going begging.

Why don't you come along with me? You may profit by it.

Are you going begging to the town hall too?

No. To the town gates first.

Why don't you come and watch me?

I can teach you more about the art of begging than any man in Holland.

I still owe you some of that half florin.

You can take it out in lessons from me, if you like.

One can always learn.

Now watch me and see how it's done.

Look miserable.

Oh, no. Not too miserable.

If you look a hopeless case, they'll think you're past helping.

No.

When your right eye waters, let your left eye twinkle.

And then, when you show your rags, cut a caper...

so as they say, "Look at that fella. He may be starving, but he's got a merry air."

Then they'll give you something.

♪♪There they are!

Here.

- Thank you, sir. - Oh!

You'll never be any good. A born beggar takes what he finds and keeps it.

You needn't be proud of your tricks, you old scarecrow.

Any child can learn to catch pennies if it's hungry.

Do you know how an artist has to beg at court?

An artist has to smile and smile and keep on smiling.

"May I humbly crave the honor of being presented to His Royal Highness?

I am the painter Rembrandt van Rijn."

"Oh, yes, I remember you now.

"Wasn't there some scandal about a picture you painted for the Civic Guard?

I hope you've learned how to behave properly."

Well, I can't behave properly!

I can't beg properly. I can't paint properly.

But I can live my life properly.

Without money? Where?

At home...

in my father's house.

It's a mill near Leyden.

A mill? Among peasants?

I was born a peasant.

Rembrandt.

Hello, Father.

Adriaen, here's your brother. He's come home.

Good evening, Adriaen.

It's a long time since you've been here.

Well, Adriaen, I've had so much work to do. I've -

A lot of new portraits and commissions.

That's good. The mill's flourishing too.

- We're kept busy from morn till night. - I'm glad to hear that, Father.

You're just in time for supper.

You shall read the lesson tonight, Son.

There.

"I considered the days of old, the ancient times.

"Will the Lord cast off forever?

"Will he be favorable no more?

"Hath his mercy clean gone forever?

"Doth his promise fail forevermore?

"Hath God forgotten to be gracious?

"Hath he in anger...

"shut up...

"his tender mercies?

"And I said, 'This is my infirmity;

"But I will remember the years of the right hand of the Most High.'

"I will remember the works of the Lord.

Surely I will remember thy wonders of old."

"The waters saw thee, O God.

"The waters saw thee; they were afraid.

"The depths also were troubled.

"The clouds poured out water.

"The skies sent out a sound.

"Thine arrows also went abroad.

"The voice of thy thunder was in heaven.

"The lightnings lightened the earth...

"and the earth trembled and shook.

"But I will meditate also on all thy works and talk of thy doings.

Thy way, O God, is in the sanctuary."

It's a poor meal. Bread and soup - country fare.

Black bread-peasants' bread.

I'm home.

- Not so fast, little one. - Let me go.

Am I mistaken?

Or do I recognize that pretty nose of yours?

I've never seen your fat nose before in all my life.

- Give me a kiss if I guess right? - Yes, you can have a kiss.

But if you don't guess right, you'll have to buy me a pot of beer.

Soetje. Right?

That's my sister.

Are you little Elsa?

Well, how children grow up.

Oh, you're not a stranger. You do belong here.

I do. It's my home.

You know, you remind me of Adriaen the miller.

I'm Adriaen the miller's brother.

The one that went to the city and married a rich wife and became famous?

That's right.

- Now you owe me a kiss. - Oh, no. No.

You owe me a pot of beer. You didn't guess right. You mistook me for my sister.

- Kiss for a pot of beer? - No.

- Kiss for a pot of beer. - Yes.

- Landlord! Gallon of beer! - Aye. Aye, Soetje!

Here's a man who knows us and who orders beer by the gallon.

Don't have anything to do with him. He's from the town.

- Why- - Oh, I've never been to the city.

- Is it a merry life? - Every day's a feast day.

They hang sausages on the doors instead of bell pulls...

and the fountains spurt wine.

Take your ugly face away from where it has no business to be.

♪♪You old bullfrog! We don't allow town oxen grazing on our pasture.

But he's not a stranger. He's the miller's brother-the painter brother.

I know nothing about painters, but I'll paint his nose red...

if he doesn't learn to keep his paws to himself.

- You’re Jan Dericks, aren't you? - Yes.

I used to lay you across my knee and spank you when you were a lousy-headed pup.

He talks as if he belongs here and looks as though he's just come from his own funeral.

Now look here.

I used to sit and drink beer in this inn when all you lads were in napkins.

And I've still as good a seat to my britches...

and as much right to plant it where I choose as any of you fat-rumped peasants.

Leave me alone and mind your own business.

Why do you come here and make trouble?

You'd no use for us when you were young...

and went away to the city because you didn't like our country ways.

Yes, and if the smell of our pigsties is too strong for you...

keep your hands off our bacon.

That's it. Get back to your city wenches.

Yeah! Get out! Get out! Get out of here!

I've paid for my drink. I've as much right to sit here and drink it as anybody else.

Drink that.

Drink it yourself.

Then if you’re one of us, let's see if you’ve got a miller's fists.

I show you what a painter's fists can do, you -

I think I ought to go back to Amsterdam, Father.

God be with you, my boy.

Titus?

- Titus! - Yes?

We shall be late. Can't you hear the bells?

Heaven have mercy on us. Where will it all end?

Three days and nights, and not a sign of him.

He treats his own house as though it were a plague spot.

He avoids it because you make his life here impossible.

Foolish, ignorant child.

He's poisoning you with his own wickedness.

All right. Let him go his own way.

Come on. Come to church.

And pray to God to make you a better man than your father.

- Who are you? - I'm the maid.

- How long have you been here? - Four weeks.

Haven't seen you before.

Where's the, uh, housekeeper?

She's gone to church. It's Sunday.

Come with me.

Take off your shawl.

You mustn't be frightened if I look at you.

I am not looking at you as a- a man looks.

I'm a painter.

Painters have a different way of looking at things.

You-You must imagine that I'm looking at you...

in the same way as the water with which you wash yourself...

or the air you move in or the light that shines on you.

That sees you, you know, all the time, even when you’re quite alone.

You mustn't even know I'm looking at you.

Pretend I'm not in the room.

Well, I've disappeared.

Make yourself comfortable.

Are you warm enough?

Yes, but I ought to be cleaning the vegetables.

I shan't need any vegetables today.

What's your name?

- Hendrickje Stoffels. - Hendrickje? You're from the country.

From Zeeland. My mother has a little farm.

Why did you leave the country?

I don't know. I didn't want to stay at home.

I'm very glad you came, Hendrickje.

That's no good. I want that frightened look.

But I don't feel frightened anymore.

So you don't feel frightened anymore, Hendrickje.

♪ Green fields, red clover ♪

♪ Distant sky, far sea ♪

♪ Far sea ♪

♪ Yellow corn, white sand ♪

♪ Dark earth, good land ♪

♪ Good land ♪♪

Pretty tune. Is it one of your country songs?

Yes. They sing it at home in Zeeland.

- Well, go on. - Oh, the next verse is a sad one.

Lord have mercy. Look at the dirt on this table.

Anybody'd think the place hadn't been cleaned for years.

Nor it has. Father always used to keep the door locked.

Wouldn't let anyone in.

Who's the woman in this picture?

- My mother. - She must have been very beautiful.

What are you doing in here?

The kitchen's the place for you.

I thought I told you not to talk to her.

He gave me permission to tidy the studio.

And I forbade you to set foot in this room.

You get downstairs where you belong and don't let me find you up here again.

And keep your hands off that boy. I suppose the father isn't enough for you!

- You're not to speak to her like that. It's wicked and ugly. - Wicked? Ugly?

That's all the thanks I get for the years I've given you and your father.

Where would he be now if it wasn't for me?

My whole life, I've worked for him. I've kept his house clean.

I've cooked for him. I've scrubbed for him.

I nursed him when he was sick. I brought up his child.

My whole life's been one thought for him and his happiness.

Now I'm no use to him anymore. He prefers his kitchen maid.

But you needn't worry. It won't last.

He'll treat you as he's treated me.

You don't belong round here. We don't want you round here!

Get out of the house and leave him alone! Can't you?

No, I can't.

You can't.

All right. I can.

One of us has got to go.

I'll make you sorry for this.

I'll make you sorry you were ever born.

You know Heertsbeeke, the lawyer. My friends Dr. Fabrizius, Dr. Menasseh.

- And Titus of course. - Of course.

Now. And what can I do for you, Rembrandt?

I'm going to be married again. Oh-Oh, I know I'm an old fool.

When King David was old and stricken in years...

he took unto himself Abishag the Shunammite.

King Solomon-

That's enough of your Old Testament kings. They all came to a bad end.

What I asked you here for was to be witnesses to my marriage.

- Only too glad, Rembrandt. - And I want you to settle the formalities.

Formalities? You can't get out of it so easily as that.

Get out? Get out of what?

The Lady Saskia van Ulyenburgh left her fortune...

to her dearly beloved husband, Rembrandt van Rijn...

with the proviso that, in the event of his remarriage...

he must make over one half of the fortune to her son, Titus.

- Half of 40,000 florins would be- - I never got a penny of the 40,000 florins.

Oh, I know, but you accepted the bequest.

And so far as the law is concerned, the obligation is undischarged.

You cannot get married again unless you pay into the Court of Chancery...

the sum of 20,000 florins for your son, Titus.

20,000 florins.

But it's ridiculous. I don't want the money.

I'll simply renounce my claim.

You can't do that, my boy. You're underage.

And in any case, the Court of Chancery has no intention of forfeiting this money.

- They're very sharp on these things. - Why am I only 1 8?

Oh, shut up, Titus! You're too young to know the world.

You think it's a free place where you can do as you choose.

Well, you're wrong.

The world is a narrow cage enclosed on four sides by iron bars.

You can beat your head against those bars until you're sick.

But you'll never get out, never as long as you live.

I interrogated the accused woman.

Listen to the words of her defense.

Why did she submit to this man's desires?

"Because he was kind to me, kinder than anyone had ever been."

Why did she refuse to abandon him?

"Because I belong to him and he needs me."

Is that, I ask you, the voice of lust, of sin?

It is the voice of sin which seeks to dissemble and disguise its true face.

- Yes! - Such a woman is more dangerous...

than the vice which flaunts itself at street corners.

Such hypocrisy spreads the poison of sacrilege...

and sows the seeds of evil desire in our midst.

I ask you, dear brethren...

why should that which is forbidden to us honest and honorable citizens...

be permitted to a- to a loose-living painter?

Why should he live in open sin with his concubine...

whilst we are bound by the rules and teachings of the church?

No.

An example must be made here.

- The black sheep must be driven out. - Driven out.

Hendrickje Stoffels...

your life and actions being such as to offend against public decency...

I am compelled to pronounce the sentence of excommunication upon you.

Henceforth, you are forbidden to enter the house of God...

and to partake of the Holy Sacrament.

On behalf of the Bankruptcy Court, I open the forced sale...

of all the movable and immovable property of the painter Rembrandt van Rijn.

Can you hear them selling our furniture downstairs?

I don't mind. I'm very happy.

Are you, when we haven't got a proper house to go to?

We have a little house. That's all we need.

Yes. That's all we need.

You know, I never liked this huge place.

At first, it used to frighten me, and then I used to think you needed it to paint pictures in.

But now I know that all you need is a warm coat...

hot soup and maybe me.

You know, I've come into a fortune...

even though they're selling my furniture downstairs.

- Going for the first time - - Come on.

He was a good man, a just man.

He didn't deserve this.

Deserve? What does that mean?

A man without money is a vagabond and a rogue.

Rembrandt. I brought you a buyer for your new picture.

This is the marquis de Grand-Coeur. He's just arrived from Paris...

and he has a commission to buy art treasures for the cardinal.

Thank you. Uh-

Does the marquis like this one?

The Holy Family in flight from Egypt.

Mmm.

The Blessed Virgin without a halo?

Oh, yes, without a halo. S-Sanctity comes from within.

One isn't obliged to wear it on the head like a Flemish hat.

I'll buy the picture. Will you accept a thousand florins?

Hendrickje. Hendrickje.

A thousand florins.

This is my wife.

Shall I, uh- Uh, would you-

Shall I send it, or- I'll put it on the-on the carriage.

- You can't do it, Father. - I can't do what?

- You know, the Debtors' Court order. - What more do they want from me?

The court decided that any canvas you paint...

shall automatically become the property of your creditors.

The house and furniture didn't fetch enough to cover all your debts.

- Will you shut up. - They'll put him in jail.

Ludwick's already threatened to have him arrested.

He mustn't sell his pictures.

He's under oath to hand over all his work to his creditors until his debts are cleared.

- According to the commercial charter- - Commercial charter?

I'm not a tradesman.

A picture I paint with my own hands belongs to me.

No, Father. It doesn't belong to you.

You've no right to sell it.

I'm sorry. I should have been glad to buy the picture.

I'll go for a walk.

You must explain to me, Titus.

Why don't his pictures belong to him anymore?

Listen, Hendrickje. I'll give you an example.

Imagine that a fisherman owes money that he can't pay.

If he catches fish and takes it to the market...

he's not allowed to offer it for sale.

According to the law, he has to hand it over to his creditors.

Caught you, me fine little fellow. You haven't paid your taxes.

Therefore, any fish you catch are public property.

That's the law in Holland.

You let Jan Butting alone. He's my assistant.

I employ him, see? He gets his food and lodging from me.

And any fish he catches are mine, and there's a contract to prove it.

You can't arrest me for selling fish, old dog's face.

And that's the law in Holland.

So that's the law in Holland.

Ludwick. Ludwick, Ludwick.

You go on as if nothing had happened.

You go upstairs. I'll deal with them.

We'll be all right up here.

What can I do for you gentlemen?

We represent the creditors to whom the painter Rembrandt owes money.

Does that convey anything to you?

- I can't see what it has to do with me. - You're breaking the law.

These pictures you're offering for sale don't belong to you at all.

Indeed?

Everything that Rembrandt paints, draws or otherwise commits to paper...

belongs to the creditors and must, in law, be handed over to them.

I happen to know that you’ve already sold one picture to France for a thousand florins.

I suppose you realize that this is a criminal offense.

If you're speaking of the painter Rembrandt van Rijn...

this man is in my employ.

I own the contract with him.

He receives his food and lodging from me, and, in return...

whatever he chooses to paint becomes my property.

Mine, gentlemen, not yours.

You can't take anything from me. I don't owe you a brass farthing.

- That's the law in Holland. - Can we see this so-called contract?

- There's nothing in the commercial charter- - Commercial charter.

She talks about the commercial charter. Why, the woman can't read or write.

Why should I? I have a partner who's well educated. Titus.

My partner.

We'd better go to the painter himself.

- Where are you going? - To see Rembrandt van Rijn.

I don't allow my servants to receive visitors during working hours...

and he works 24 hours a day.

This is trickery. She's the painter's wife, the mother of his child.

What belongs to her belongs to him. She has no right to make any bargain with him.

I'm going to the court.

I'd advise you to see my lawyer first. He drew up the contract.

- It may save you a walk. - Oh, hold your tongue!

You were superb. Superb.

Splendid. Splendid.

Bless your heart.

Isn't she marvelous?

You wait. They'll be back in half an hour...

begging you to give them an interest in the business.

Here. You'd better take a rest. You're as white as a sheet.

- No, no, no. I must get to the kitchen. - You'll do nothing of the kind.

Over here.

Sit down.

What do you employ me for if I'm not to cook for you?

I've heard it said that painters are good cooks.

Yes. It's part of our trade. I learnt cooking when I was an apprentice.

But we're having goose.

And do you think I don't know how to cook a goose?

Come on, Menasseh. You help me with the apples and the chestnuts.

And you stay there and rest.

Come on, Menasseh.

There you are.

You're very handy with the pots and pans.

Ah. I spent a lot of my life alone.

Tell me the truth, Menasseh.

How long will Hendrickje live?

Why-

I can't lie to you.

How long?

That is in God's hands.

She mustn't suspect that I know anything.

It would break her heart.

- But if she asks me - - Then you must lie.

But I tell you I can't lie.

You must learn to lie, Menasseh.

Dr. Menasseh. Come and help me lay the table.

Yes, I'm coming.

Hurry up with the table. The goose is nearly done.

- Careful, Doctor. See that your end is straight. - Ah.

You should hire a servant girl, Hendrickje.

Take on a servant and have her get us into debt again?

Oh, no, Doctor. We're tightening our purse strings now.

But you must take care of your health, Hendrickje.

You've grown more delicate since the child was born.

Nursing her was too great a strain on you.

That's why I sent her away to my mother in the country.

Yes, yes, but you need rest and care.

Doctor, I shall go when my task is done.

Not sooner and not later.

- Would you do something to help me? - If it's possible.

He mustn't know about me.

These good times mustn't be spoiled for him.

You don't think he suspects, do you?

No.

The goose, the goose, the goose, the goose, the goose!

- Ah. - Titus.

Titus!

The goose. Sit down.

Sit down, everybody.

No, Rembrandt, it can't be done.

A marriage cannot be arranged in such a short time.

And, after all, why all this hurry?

Can't you wait four weeks to marry her, like any ordinary person?

- No, Pastor. - Why?

Because she has a very short time to live.

I want to make her happy before she dies.

Have you disposed of all the obstacles that stood in the way of your marriage?

Oh, yes. My son is of age now.

I don't need any money.

I'll try to arrange it as quickly as I can.

- Could it be managed next Sunday? - Well-

She's so little time.

Very well. I'll see that it's arranged at once.

Titus. You go and fetch the child, and bring Hendrickje's mother too.

You take the next coach, you'll be back in three days.

You mustn't work. You must rest.

- You look tired. - Where's Titus?

Titus? He's with his young bride.

He'll be leaving us soon, and we shall be left alone.

Will you like that?

Yes.

And the baby, do you miss her?

She's being well cared for in the country.

But I thought, perhaps next summer, I'd have her back again.

Oh, yes. Next summer.

What have you got on that dress for?

Oh, I thought you wanted to finish the picture. It's Sunday.

- Oh, yes, we must finish the picture. - Yes.

You can rest in the big chair while I'm working. Come on.

It's just like the first time.

The house was empty, and we were alone.

You pulled me upstairs, just like now.

I remember. I remember.

Sit down.

You needn't be shy. I'm not looking at you as a man looks.

I'm a painter. That's what I said.

"You must imagine I look at you in the same way...

"as the water you wash yourself with or the air you move in...

"or the light that shines on you.

"That sees you, you know, all the time, even when you’re quite alone.

"You mustn't even know that I'm looking at you.

Pretend I'm not in the room."

Now you must ask me if I'm warm enough.

Are you warm enough?

Yes, but I ought to be cleaning the vegetables.

We shan't need any vegetables today.

Now you must ask me my name.

What a memory you've got.

Don't tell me any more. I know the rest.

What's your name?

Hendrickje Stoffels.

Hendrickje? You're from the country.

From Zeeland. My mother has a little farm.

- Why did you leave the country? - I don't know.

I didn't want to stay at home.

Well, you know how glad I am you came, Hendrickje.

Darling.

Sweetheart?

Hendrickje!

Fresh herrings. Fresh herrings.

Herrings. Fresh herrings. Herrings. Fresh herrings.

Herrings. Fresh herrings.

Herrings. Herrings?

And how much are you charging this morning, milord fishmonger?

The same as I charged yesterday evening.

One heller, Your Royal Highness.

Here's half a heller.

I'm not paying for the smell.

Well, here we are- the Full Moon bodega.

I'm paying for everybody.

And anyone who leaves before the new moon rises is no longer a friend of mine.

Gerrard, you're a prince.

He sold his first picture this morning, and he wants to spend it all at once.

There's genius for you.

Well, anybody who's afraid to squander the first hundred florins he's earned...

doesn't deserve to earn any more.

Aye, coachman! Unharness the horses. Come on in with us.

Come on, Phoebe!

No, don't. Not in front of all these people.

Why? What does it matter? They're all drunk, and no one else is looking.

That old man over there is. He's laughing at us.

Why are you laughing, grandpa?

Because I see a sight that warms my old heart.

Oh, he's sweet. Ask him to come with us.

I'll be getting jealous in a minute.

Don't worry. They won't want to kiss me.

Come on, grandpa. You must be thirsty.

I am. This herring was as salt as the North Sea.

Fine head the old man has. He'd make a good model.

You'll have to sing for your supper- preach us a sermon or tell us a funny story.

You look as if you’ve a pretty wit under that turban of yours.

My wit is a delicate plant, gentlemen.

It needs watering.

We'll water you with anything you like - beer or brandy. Come on.

- All right, come on. Speech. - Speech! Speech! Speech!

A toast, my friends. To beauty!

- To woman. - To youth.

- To love. - To money.

To success.

What about you, grandpa? You haven’t given us your toast.

I can't think of a toast.

You mumbled something into your glass just now.

- I heard you. - I heard you too.

That wasn't a toast, and they weren't my words.

Well, whose words were they then?

They were the words of King Solomon.

- They are the best words I know. - Well, let's have them.

You can be our King Solomon and teach us wisdom.

"Vanity of vanities. All is vanity."

Bravo!

Bravo! Go on, grandpa!

"I have seen all the works that are done under the sun...

"and, behold, all is vanity...

and vexation of spirit."

Good one!

"For in much wisdom is much grief...

"and he that in creaseth knowledge in creaseth sorrow.

"Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better...

"than that a man shall rejoice in his own works...

for that is his portion."

- Hello, Fabrizius! - Hello, Fabrizius.

Rembrandt.

Rembrandt? I'm very sorry.

We didn't know.

I enjoyed myself very much.

Amuse yourselves...

and remember King Solomon.

May I? No. Thank you.

Good night, children. Good night.

I thought I should never find you. I called at your studio three times last week.

Yes, I know. I was busy.

I've just started a new portrait of myself.

Oh, I see. I just wanted to find out if you had enough to eat.

- Shall I come back now? - No, I can manage.

But if you happen to have a spare florin?

Oh, of course, of course. Here.

- Take this. - No. Five- No, that's -

Nonsense, nonsense. But mind you spend it on food now.

Of course. Oh, of course, of course.

You know, you'd better go straight to the butcher's.

- You're not looking well, Master. - That's the light.

You needn't worry about me. I'm quite all right.

You're a good lad, Fabrizius. Yes.

Well, go along to this place here. The meat there is good and cheap.

Oh, yes, yes. I'll go to the butcher's, yes.

- Now, good-bye. - Good-bye. Take care of yourself.

Get out of here!

Vanity of vanities. All is vanity.