All language subtitles for Rembrandt.ENG

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