Original subtitles

REMBRANDT

Nobody in?

- Shop! - Coming!

- Good morning, Master Rembrandt. - Morning.

Gentlemen, what can I do for you?

I'll have some colours, golden bronze, yellow ochre, bull's blood.

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 is very well.

- Where's your flemish green? - On your rigth.

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

Saskia's never been better in her life.

- What's this? - A new brew.

A french painter invented it.

I'll have some of this.

Lovely flowers, master.

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

Yes, master. How many bunches?

- Take the lot. - I know. The whole barrow.

My lucky day.

- Etching needles? - Try the english needles.

I think I will. What about brushes?

- Here. - Master Rembrandt, look.

- 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.

5,000 florins, Master.

My agent will see about that.

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

You'd 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.

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.

She has to sleep for an hour.

Your father will be here presently.

She has to put on a pretty dress and fresh and well.

Your 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?

The brocade dress with purple flowers...

the gold shoes, the lace shawl, gold hair ornament...

and net and the jewel box.

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

You're a fool, Rembrandt.

Rembrandt.

You promised our picture would be next. Let's go and settle it.

Come on. You can paint Saskia another day. Come on.

This is the new pupil. Show him what to do.

How much does your father pay for your?

25 florins a month.

Yes. It's a lot of money. We pay the same.

If our fathers paid everything they had, it wouldn't...

be enough for half an hour of his teaching.

He'll be here any minute now.

Run along!

- How's Saskia? - She's all right. She's sleeping.

- When he comes in, will she get upset? - Certainly she will.

She's not to do it. He must be told. He doesn't know ill she is.

- We must get a doctor. - I won't have a doctor in the house.

- I won't have his life upset. - Then I'll tell him.

If you say a word...

The lady Saskia.

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

- Should I get Dr. Tulp? - Yes.

You better get 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.

Master Rembrandt is never in need of models.

Yes, He is. He can't paint his wife all the time.

How cold a man want to paint his wife after 7 years of marriage?

There was a man in the lanf of Oars and the...

Lord gave him all that the 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.

All 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 enflame...

your senses with their play...

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

the gentle ones who serve you...

slender ones 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's a chaste Susanna...

covering her nakedness with fluttering hands.

Gaze upon her as you would gaze upon a thousand strange women...

but never call her yours.

For her secrets are inexhaustible, you'll never know them all.

Call her by one name only.

I call her Saskia.

Master Rembrandt, come at once.

Lady Saskia.

Lady Saskia is...

The doctors should be there by now.

They ought to have been sent for long ago, but I don't think...

it's to late yet. There's nothing to worry about. Really!

Where is Rembrandt?

Is he deliberately trying to insult his guest?

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 him? - Do you suppose he's in his studio?

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.

You see, she's wearing a new necklace.

I can still see her. Soon it will fade.

It will be as lost to me as her body is lost to 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, it's a great picture. - Yes.

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

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

Run along now. Guest 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.

That helmet might be mine.

No, it must be those legs.

A fine fair of legs for all that money?

He's given banning Cocq a clubbed foot.

- Rombout kemp a hunchback. - Where?

Is that supposed to be me, that grinning ape?

What do you think of the picture.

No evasion. 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't 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 making fun of it.

Can't you hear them? It's no good twiddling your moustache.

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

What did you think you were doing? It's beyond a joke.

- I agree with you, it is. - Go on, say something to them.

You're not suggesting that I should apologize?

I'm asking you to save the situation.

Think of what's at stake.

Save the situation?

All rigth.

Capitain Banning Cocq.

You have something to say me?

You undertook to paint the portraits of 16...

of my officers at 200 florins a head.

Of 16, only 6 are recognisable.

Surely, you can't expect the remaining...

10 to pay for portraits that don't exist.

10 of these gentlemen have nothing to pay.

Is there anything else?

Yes, there is something else.

You undertook to paint a good satisfactory...

picture of our mess room.

But this thing is 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 breastplates!

And the only distinguished thing about you are your hats!

- How many people are coming? - How many? You'll see them.

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

When the master comes, you'll be sent packing.

- I am packing. - You just wait.

I've waited long enough.

25 florins a month to a master who is the laughingstock of the town.

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

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

Where are the guests?

Aren't we guests enough for your fine dinner?

- You've got something to say to me? - No, sir.

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

who's been derided by the whole town?

No, sir.

I ought to know something about faces.

- But, I might be mistaken. - Yes, sir.

But you're going to leave me...

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

I want dinner.

Get out, all of you.

Not very cheerful tonight.

This will put new life into you.

Good health!

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

Now I'll show you how we drink you how...

we drink it in Leyden, where I come from.

Come on!

Get your glass and 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 leave me for a better master.

I'll never leave you, master.

For a better master, I said.

But, 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. The jewels. The casket.

The jewels. The casket.

Very well.

Come on.

Lot of vultures!

Here's some daylight for you so you can see what you're getting.

You take everything anybody's got left in the world.

The jewels! The casket!

There it is.

- Where are the jewels? - We've eaten them.

How do suppose we've managed to live?

What are you doing here?

- Get out! - Keep calm, young gentleman.

They're here on business. You wouldn't understand.

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

Show him the distraint order.

The distraint order of the court of Bankruptcy.

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

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

the green grocer, to everybody.

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 to go the Prince to 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.

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're the man who paints beggars.

Some 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 bit a bad painter.

You old scoundrel. What do you mean?

If you were a good painter, there would...

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.

What did I say? You're not a decent painter.

Don't walk so fast, my gentle sirs

All right. All right.

I want to paint that royal scoundrely 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.

I came out without any money. I need half a florin.

Half of a florin in cash?

It isn't much good in sugar or clothes.

That reminds me, you owe me a rather large bill...

for sugar and clothes.

Afraid you're not getting your money back?

I didn't say so, Rembrandt.

Will you lend it to me or not?

Well, you were a good customer once.

I should say, I was. Put it on the bill and send in your account.

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.

What should he do?

Get his name on the list of petitioners.

He should remind the Prince his father was his patron...

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? - The front door.

- That's fine. She won't hear us. - There were some men here.

Titus, isn't he King Saul to the life?

- But Ludwick, and the lawyer... - Come on.

All right.

Now, you old scarecrow, put down your stick...

take off those rags, and get up on the throne.

- Up where? - Up there.

Careful.

Titus, the gold brocade and the purple cloak.

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...

I've 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 name.

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 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 so could not sleep with 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.

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!

I know you're in there! I have something to tell you.

That's more important than your work.

You'll see a different you when you find...

yourselves without a roof over your heads!

Stop that noise!

He still thinks he's the Master...

a Master driven out of his own house like a beggar...

a worthless beggar!

They don't think much of our profession here.

Stay where you are. We're working.

Open this door!

Titus, tell your father to open the door!

Father, please don't be angry...

but 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'll be flung out on 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 seeing ruin staring you...

in the face and you don't raise a finger.

Look at you.

So untidy.

Your beard all over your face.

Listen, you've got to 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...

one of your worst pupils.

Now he owns a carriage repair. Why?

Because he paints high-class pictures...

and gives the people what they want.

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 to this house and the boy...

for a man who repays it with nothing but ingratitude!

The best years of my life have gone to 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?

I'm going to brush you before you go to see anybody.

We shan't be working anymore today.

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 live 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.

What are you doing here?

Here, take this.

It's only imitation.

Where are you going?

I'm 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 in Holland.

I still owe you some of that half florin.

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

Now watch me and see how it's done.

Look miserable. Come now, not too miserable.

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

When your right eye waters let your left eye twinkle.

Then when you show your rags cut a caper.

So as they say: "Look at that fellow.

He may be starving, but he's got a merry air."

Then they'll give you some.

There they are!

Here.

Thank you, sir.

You'll never be any good. A born beggar...

takes what he finds and keeps it.

You needn't be proud of your old tricks.

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 honour of being...

presented to his royal Highness?"

"I am a painter... Rembrandt Van Rijn."

"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!

I can't behave properly! I can't paint properly.

But I can live my life properly.

Without money? Where?

At home.

At my father's house. It's a mill near Leyden.

A mill, among peasants?

I was born a peasant.

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, I've had so much work to do.

I've new portraits and commissions.

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

We're kept busy morning 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 favourable no more?

Hath his mercy clean gone forever?

Doth his promise fail for evermore?

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 water 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 of 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.

Peasant's bread.

I'm home.

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

Am I mistaken...

or do I recognise that pretty nose of yours?

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

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

But if you're wrong, you buy me a pot of beer.

Sutja, right?

That's my sister.

You're little Elsa?

Well, children grow up.

Aw, 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, married...

a rich wife, and became famous?

That's right.

Now you owe me a kiss.

No, you owe me a pot of beer.

You mistook me for my sister.

- A kiss for beer? - No.

- A kiss for beer? - Yes.

Landlord, gallon of beer!

Sutja, here's a man who knows us...

who orders beer by the gallon.

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

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 bellpulls...

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.

He's not a stranger.

He's the miller's brother, the painter brother.

I'll paint his nose red if he doesn't keep his paws to himself.

You're Jan Derricks, aren't you?

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 if he's come from his own funeral.

Now look here.

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

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.

Why do you come here and make trouble?

You were no use for us when you were young.

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

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!

Get out!

I paid for my drink, and I've as much right to drink it as anybody else!

Drink that.

Drink it yourself.

Let's see if you've got a miller's first!

I'll show you what a painter's first can do!

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

God be with you, my boy.

Titus!

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 a plague spot.

He avoids it because you make his life 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.

I haven't seen you before.

Where's the 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'm not looking at you as...

a man looks.

I'm a painter.

Painters have a different way of looking at things.

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 all the time, even when you're 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.

You shan't need any vegetables today.

What's your name?

Hendrickje Stoffels.

Hendrickje... 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?

Pretty tune. Is it one of your country songs?

Yes, they sing it at home in Zeeland.

Well, go on.

The next verse is a sad one.

Look at the dirt on this table.

You'd think it hadn't been cleaned for years.

Nor it has.

Father kept it 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 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!

Don't speak to her like that. It's wicked and ugly.

Wicked, ugly? That's the thanks I get for my years of service?

Where would you be if it wasn't for me?

My whole life I've worked for him.

I've kept his house clean, cooked for him...

scrubbed for him, nursed him when he was sick.

I've brought up his child.

My whole life's been 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.

Heertsbeeke, the lawyer, my friends, Dr. Fabrizius...

Dr. Menaseeh and Titus, of course.

And what can I do for you, Rembrandt?

I'm going to be married again.

All right, I know I'm an old fool.

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

he took unto himself Abishag. The shunamite. King Solomon.

Enough of your Old Testament Kings. They all came to a bad end.

I asked you here to be witnesses to my marriage.

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

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

Get out? Get out of what?

The lady Saskia Van Uylenburgh...

Left her fortune to her beloved Rembrandt Van Rijn...

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

he must make over 1/2 of the fortune...

to her son Titus.

Half of 40.000 florins...

I never got a penny of the 40,000.

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 chancellery...

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 the court of chancellery has no intention of forfeiting this money.

They're very sharp on these things.

- Why am I only 18? - 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. You're wrong.

The world is a narrow cage enclosed on 4 sides by iron bars.

You 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 defence.

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 belonged to him, and he needs me."

Is that the voice of lust, of sin?

It is the voice of sin which seeks to...

dissemble and disguise its true face.

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 honourable...

citizens, be permitted 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.

Hendrickje Stoffels...

your life and actions, being such as to offend against the...

public decency 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.

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.

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.

Come.

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 Guyencourt. He's just arrived from Paris.

And he has a commission to buy art treasures for the Cardinal.

Thank you.

Does the Marquis like this one?

The Holy Family in flight from Egypt.

The blessed virgin without a halo?

Yes, without a halo. 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 1,000 florins?

1,000 florins.

This is my wife.

Shall I... would you...

Shall I send it or...

I'll put it on the carriage.

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

- The debtors' court order. - What more do they want from me?

The court decided your canvases...

become the property of your creditors.

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

Shut up.

They'll put him in jail. Ludwick's threatened to have him arrested.

He mustn't sell his pictures.

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

- According to the Commercial Charter... - Commercial Charter?

I'm not a tradesman.

The 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...

why don't his pictures belong to him anymore?

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

Imagine that the 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, my 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.

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?

Breaking the law. These picture for sale don't belong to you at all.

Indeed?

Everything that Rembrandt paints, draws...

or otherwise commits 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 1,000 florins.

I suppose you realize that this is a criminal offence.

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...

She talks about the Commercial Charter?

The woman can't read or write.

Why should I? I have a partner who's wee-educated.

Titus?

My partner.

We'd better go to the painter himself.

- Where are you going? - To see Rembandt.

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. - Hold your tongue.

You were superb.

Splendid, splendid!

Bless your heart.

Wasn't she marvellous?

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

begging you to give them an interest in the business.

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

- I must get to the kitchen. - You'll do nothing of the kind.

Sit down.

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

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

It's part of our trade. I learned 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'll help me with the apples and the chestnuts.

Now, you stay there and rest.

Come on, Menasseh.

There you are.

You're very handy with the pots and pans.

I spent a lot of my life alone.

Tell me the truth, Menasseh.

- How long will Hendrichje live? - What?

I can't lie to you.

How long?

That is 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 help me lay the table.

Yes. I'm coming.

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

Careful, doctor. See the joints are straight.

You should hire a servant girl.

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

We're tightening our purse strings now.

But you must take care of your health.

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.

But you need rest and care.

I shall go when my task is done note sooner and note later.

Will 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.

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 4 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?

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? She has so little time.

Very well.

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

Will you go and fetch the child and bring Hendrickje's mother, too?

Take the next coach and be back in 3 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.

- You'd 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.

Yes. Next summer.

What have you got on that dress for?

I thought you wanted to finish the picture.

- It's Sunday. - Yes. We must finish the picture.

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.

Sit down.

"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 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... are you 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."

"You know how glad I am that you came, Hendrichje."

Darling?

Sweetheart?

Hendrickje!

Fresh herrings!

Herrings?

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.

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.

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.

Anybody who's afraid to squander the first 1,000 florins...

he's earned doesn't deserve to earn any more.

Coachman, unharness the horses. Come on in with us.

Come on.

Not in front of all these people!

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.

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 it with anything you like, beer or brandy.

Come on.

Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!

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. 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.

Let's have them. You can be King Solomon, and teach us wisdom.

"Vanity of vanities.

All is vanity."

Bravo!

Go on, grandpa.

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

and behold...

all is vanity...

and vexations of Spirit.

For, in much wisdom...

is much grief...

and he that increaseth knowledge...

increaseth sorrow.

Wherefore, I perceive...

that there is nothing better than that a man shall rejoice...

in his own works.

For that is his portion."

Rembrandt.

Rembrandt?

I'm very sorry.

We didn't know.

I enjoyed myself very much.

Amuse yourselves...

and remember King Solomon.

May I?

Good night, children.

I thought I'd never find you. I called...

at your studio 3 times last week.

I know. I was busy. I've just started a new portrait of myself.

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.

Of course, of course. Here.

Take this.

- No, five. No. - No. Nonsense, nonsense.

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

Of course, of course.

You'd better go straight to the butcher's. You're not looking well.

That's the light. You needn't worry about me. I'm quite all right.

You're a good lad, Fabrizius.

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

Yes, I'll go to the butcher's.

- Now, goodbye. - Goodbye. Take care of yourself.

Get out of here!

"Vanity of vanities. All is vanity."

THE END