Original subtitles

.

Richard.

Sorry.

Hello, everyone.

So, how goes your first day?

Are you meeting people?

One right after the other.

I hope there's not going to be a quiz.

I'm sure it's all very confusing at the moment.

We couldn't believe our good fortune

When you agreed to help us out

At such short notice.

Yes, the headmaster's bottomless well of gratitude

Is all that prevents me from pointing out

That you're not...

Well, when was the last time

That you saw an art teacher wearing a tie?

Yesterday at your predecessor's funeral.

Actually, the students do have a dress code and so do we.

Of course.

And there you have it-- the end of the honeymoon.

Actually, you know, I haven't met everyone.

Ah, Cornelia Engelbrecht, lady of mystery.

Teaches European history.

I wouldn't expect much from Cornelia.

She's not terribly collegial.

Lives alone with her father.

Does her job.

Ah, miss...

Engelbrecht.

Yes.

Cornelia.

Come in.

A month into it and you're still making time to paint.

Such selfishness is unusual.

So, are you going to tell them?

I'm sorry. Tell who?

The ones who have no talent.

16 years old is a little early

To be passing judgment on talent.

Why?

If they possess it

They will have demonstrated the fact by then.

Mozart, Picasso.

Why encourage drones?

So you don't believe in late bloomers.

How long should we wait?

For this particular talent to bloom, I wonder?

That one might be a while.

So

What brings you

To our charming little academic fiefdom?

Drug problems? Alcohol?

Have you run afoul of the law?

Nothing so dramatic.

Well.

Never mind.

Everyone in a place like this is hiding from something.

For most, it's their own militant ignorance

Of the subjects they're paid to teach.

Does that include you, Cornelia?

I wonder if... I might show you something?

Daddy...

Daddy

This is Richard

The new painter I was telling you about.

Painter?

I'm going to borrow the key, daddy.

I'll bring it right back.

We talked about this, daddy, remember?

After supper, we'll look at it together.

Together?

A series of small strokes, actually,

Each more damaging than the last.

And you are the sole caregiver?

Well, there's no one else, is there?

Yes, but there's...

Would you mind standing over there

By the pew?

But there are services, agencies.

Yes, but that would mean someone else in the house

Which, I'm afraid, is out of the question.

Do you mind me asking why?

Because of that.

Oh, my.

I knew it.

I knew the first time I laid eyes on you

That finally there is someone

Capable of appreciating.

Your predecessor was a philistine,

A complete ignoramus.

Look...

Look at her eye...

Like a pearl.

The longing in her expression, the delft light spilling on her.

And look, look, see here?

The Grace of her hand,

Idle, palm up.

It's beautiful.

Certainly done in the style of Vermeer.

It is a Vermeer.

There are so few,

Only 40 canvases in all

And most of them already identified.

Look, Richard, look!

Look at the window glass,

Smooth as liquid light.

And look

Look at the basket.

Tiny grooves of brushstrokes

Creating the textures in the Reed.

That's Vermeer.

It's perfectly exquisite,

But isn't its beauty enough?

What does it matter if it's authentic?

It's a Vermeer!

If you're right,

Then why isn't it hanging in a museum?

Paintings have histories.

Its previous owners would have been real people

As real as yourself.

They would have left a record.

Yes, you're right.

They did.

Here they are, Richard,

Very real, as you say.

Each of them

In one brief moment in time

The sole owner of a genuine, lost Vermeer.

I don't know what to say.

Well, it's taken years of research

And single-minded devotion

Tracking this painting down through the centuries.

It's required nothing less than a lifetime.

Not a lifetime, a life.

Mine, actually.

Not that I regret a moment of it, you understand.

We've been privileged, too, my father and I.

Keepers of the flame.

Okay, you have my attention.

Tell me.

Very well.

We'll start with Laurens, the sea merchant

Who in the Autumn of his life

Learned that love could not be maintained without effort.

Laurens!

Laurens!

Yes, dear.

Laurens!

Coming, dear.

Laurens, the day's wasting!

Oh, finally.

Where did they go?

They grew tired of waiting for you, as did I.

Honestly, husband, you would try the Patience of a saint.

I don't think little dirk wants me

To marry you.

Little dirk isn't the only one.

Laurens, don't be that way.

Fritz is a fine young fellow.

Handsome, too.

We must give them a fine gift.

Something of ours she's always loved.

Give them a broom and a butter churn.

He'll take her away, you know.

To Amsterdam, in all likelihood.

I could give her my mother's Opal ring, of course

But that wouldn't be from both of us to both of them.

Look at him with his city shoes.

There's nothing wrong with his shoes.

Nor with good, solid clogs.

Laurens.

Go!

I know we'll give her the painting.

The girl in hyacinth blue.

Out of the question.

But she's always loved it, Laurens.

Why are you so ungenerous?

Just think of something else, Digna.

But why?

It is the perfect gift.

It would be

A touch of our home in theirs.

I'm sorry, Digna.

The truth is I would not want to be without it.

Why don't you want to give them the painting?

Is it because of her, then?

Who?

Oh, Laurens!

Digna!

Digna!

Did you think I didn't know about her, then?

It is not what you think.

We were very young.

Her name was Tanneke.

I do not want to know her name.

I do not want to know who it is you think of every night

When you stop to look at that painting

Before you come upstairs to our bed.

Papa?

There's a chill in the air.

Remember how you used to call them wishbone boats?

Are you not happy for me, papa?

Yes. I am.

Isn't love absolutely the most stupendous thing?

I mean, I know you and mama love each other

But still, I wasn't prepared.

Prepared?

For the power.

Will it last forever, do you think?

Yes.

Yes, it will.

Aren't you going to come in?

As soon as I finish my pipe.

All right.

Come, dirk.

Perhaps it was the euphoria of first love

Or maybe it was simply the painting

That kept his memory alive.

Oh, Laurens.

Is it not the most glorious day ever?

No. It's the worst.

The Sky is full of thunderheads.

It'll rain and rain and we will all drown.

Melodramatic boy.

Must you go tomorrow?

My aunt has fallen seriously ill

And there's no one to care for her.

What about me?

Will I not be

Sick at heart until your return?

No.

Why will you not marry me?

I didn't say I wouldn't marry you.

I said I'd consider marrying you.

Which means you're also considering not marrying me.

Yes, that, too.

I know we've not known each other very long

But, Tanneke

Surely you must see how much I love you

And what's more, you love me.

Don't pretend you don't because I know you do.

Isn't that the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?

No.

Do you see how patiently

She waits for him?

For him?

For her lover.

She loves him and maybe one day they will marry.

Well, I hope she doesn't wait too long.

Hey.

Hey, Tanneke, come here.

I have you now.

You only think you do.

You have such beautiful hair.

Won't you never let it down?

Perhaps, one day.

Um... Will you come

To the coach house tomorrow to see me off?

Of course.

Promise?

Yes, yes, yes.

There will be more kissing

When I return-- if you prove worthy.

All right, that's it!

Don't go now.

Just be there when she returns

And I'll promise you this--

She will love you more for breaking your promise

Than for keeping it.

Do you know nothing of women?

No.

Excuse me.

Has someone...

A young girl.

She was away nursing her aunt.

Became infected.

What girl?

Tanneke, she was called.

All right, let's go.

May I see?

Mm-hmm.

"Ne malorum...

Memineris."

What does that mean?

"Remember no wrongs."

I'm taking that advice, you see.

You were right.

It will make a perfect gift.

Do you ever wish you were young again?

Like the girl in the painting?

Like Joanna and fritz.

Oh, no.

Do you?

Not from this moment forward.

For Saskia,

Even before the great flood

Her farmhouse was an island apart from the world.

Stijn!

Stijn.

The world has not seemed so beautiful

Since I as a girl

At my parents' farm in Westerbork.

We're flooded out, Saskia.

Every farm in the county's underwater.

Soon there'll be nothing to eat but beauty.

Do we need all this stuff?

When are you going to...?

I don't know, Saskia.

As long as they need me, I suppose.

The dike won't repair itself.

Saskia!

Take this.

Look.

Look, children.

Saskia!

There's more!

Take this to your mother.

Mama?

What is it?

A baby.

Someone left a baby in a boat.

Do you think you'll be like her one day?

A fine young lady in a fine home?

Let's call it...

Morningshine.

Your grandmother always says, "paintings should have names."

Do you remember her house in Westerbork?

Is the flood there, too?

No.

Inland is safe from floods.

Why don't we live inland?

Because land is expensive

And because the farm your father inherited is here.

It's bad.

The drainage mills can't begin their work

Until the sea dike is repaired

And the crops will surely be ruined by then.

It'll be a Miracle if we even get

A spring planting in.

The baby took milk five times today.

What kind of mother would leave an Infant in a flood?

One who had no choice.

One who was trapped and saw no way out.

What's this?

It was stuck at the back of the painting.

It's the work of a man from delft

And... There's a message

Written at the top.

"Sell the painting. Feed the child."

We've been given a sacred trust, Stijn.

And the means to fulfill it.

Take the painting to Groningen.

See what you can get for it.

We'll be needing the money soon.

Saskia.

Sell the painting.

Where did you get this?

It was given to me.

Do you know who Johannes Vermeer is?

No, sir.

24 gilders.

They offered only three gilders.

Three gilders.

Meat and cheese could be purchased for three gilders.

The man who did the painting's name was Vermeer.

Johannes Vermeer.

He's famous, Stijn.

And yet you were only offered three gilders.

Just as well, then.

If he's famous, it'll fetch more in Amsterdam.

Don't be long about it.

How many more potatoes?

Almost a barrel.

Leave the seed potatoes, Saskia.

I know, Stijn.

Are you certain we can't keep it, Stijn?

Yes.

And so are you.

It's just that there's so little beauty in this life.

I'm sorry I don't grow tulips, Saskia.

I'm sorry we're not more prosperous.

I am a potato farmer...

Like my father before me

And his father before him.

And you are a potato farmer's wife.

Papa said not to touch the seed potatoes.

These are the eating potatoes.

Set the table, Marta.

Papa will be home soon

And we don't want him to be cross with us.

Meat?

I sold the spice chest.

Not the painting.

No.

Well, there's some good news, at least.

The sea dike is repaired.

Tomorrow the drainage mills will start up again

And next week the water board will allow

Each landowner one day free of dike work.

Will our land come back, papa?

It never went anywhere, Piet.

It's still there down under all the water.

Before long you'll be playing and running

All over the farm just like you used to, son.

I'll be in the barn, then.

No...!

No! No!

How could you?

How could you?

Every farm wife knows

You never touch the seed potatoes.

There's only a quarter barrel left.

Not enough to seed more than a few rows.

We are ruined, Saskia.

A man's seed potatoes are his future.

They were us.

This family.

Nothing more?

Stijn...

We're nothing more than seed potatoes?

That's all God wants for us?

Work and more work?

Row upon row of potatoes?

I need more, Stijn.

We need more.

Tomorrow, I'll take the children to Westerbork.

They can stay with my mother and father

While I go to Amsterdam.

Then we will have money for... Seed potatoes.

"The king rides through the water.

The king rides through the stars."

Now what do you think of that?

I don't think I've ever beheld a painting

Quite so beautiful.

I call it Morningshine.

Yes.

Yes, I see.

But the seed potatoes, Saskia.

You know better.

Yes, I know.

But may we stay for a while until he gets over it?

It's so lovely here.

No.

No, tomorrow you go to Amsterdam

Where you will sell this most beautiful painting.

You can return for the children afterward.

And there's something else you should do.

You should get down

On your knees and thank the Lord

You have a man as hardworking as your Stijn.

I'm not sure he... Finds me beautiful anymore.

Before the children he used to...

Now he works until he's exhausted...

Until sometimes, when he's done, there's nothing left.

Have we taught you nothing, daughter?

Such work is love made plain

And you're a fool if you don't recognize that.

The child's the blessing, not the painting.

Stunning. Magnificent.

Look at the window glass... Smooth as liquid light.

And the basket--

Tiny grooves of brushstrokes to show its texture.

It's a Vermeer.

Well, of course it is, dear woman.

I can offer you 75 gilders.

A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady?

Yes.

Five of your freshest hyacinths.

Not six?

No, five.

One for each member of my family.

While superstition

Had served Aletta Pieters well throughout her childhood

A new age of rational thought was approaching.

There she stands.

Get her.

Stop, stop, girl!

Oh, no.

Stop, girl.

Got you...

Help me, Rika.

Come on.

Don't let them take me.

I meant no harm.

Here you go.

Now who's afraid, huh?

Tell me that.

Cursed you'll be for this

Herbert de hals, Mark my words.

This will be the voyage

Come on! That drags you to the bottom of the sea.

Your eyes will be

Devoured by fishes

Quiet! Before you reach the shores of Africa.

Well...

Let me go...

The wench needs to be taught a lesson.

One night in the stocks ought to do it.

Use your powers then, witch.

Use your magic to set yourself free.

Witch!

Yeah, show us your magic...

And what did you do to the good people of Delfzijl

That you deserve the stocks?

Wouldn't you like to know.

Yes, I would.

Come closer then, student, and I'll tell you.

You best not tarry with her, lad

If you want things to go well for you in this town.

A pack of baggage is what she is.

No spitting.

Come closer.

I'll whisper my crime.

Closer.

Closer.

There, now.

You've been given a wet kiss

From the famous

Wild witch of Delfzijl.

Shameless wench.

Good-bye, student.

Aletta?

Now where has that girl gone off to?

Good morning, nephew.

Good morning, aunt Rika.

What time is it?

Oh, you've slept away most of the morning, dear boy.

Is that why you left the university, then, hmm?

You were tossed out for laziness?

I left of my own volition, aunt.

As you well know.

Well, if that's your story...

I don't suppose you've seen an insolent servant girl

Who's nearly as lazy as you are

Skulking about, have you?

I saw one such yesterday afternoon in the stocks.

Yes, the same.

I'll have her bring you something to eat

If I can resist the temptation to skin her alive

When I find her.

Aletta?

What was the poor girl pilloried for?

"Poor girl," indeed!

She nearly frightened your uncle to death.

In the middle of the night

She hid outside his bedroom window

Caused the curtains to move and made moaning sounds.

Convinced Herbert that his bedroom was haunted

By the spirits of dead Africans.

He shipped for the dark continent yesterday

Full of terrors

And believing that that girl had cursed him.

Well, I hardly think a servant can be held responsible

For a slaver's guilty conscience, aunt.

Your uncle is a legitimate trader.

Yeah, and we both know what he trades in.

Silks and spices...

And human souls.

Profitable ventures, all

From the look of things, dear aunt.

You weren't tossed out of the university

For laziness, but for insolence.

Aletta?

Hello again.

And now your kiss has been returned, witch.

Master de koonig?

I have arrived.

So I see.

And who are you?

Adrian Kuypers, from the university in Groningen.

Ah, you are the young man who is tired

Of Dusty old books

And the wisdom of ancient philosophers.

I believe that science can master nature

For the benefit of mankind.

Well, there's your science, Adrian Kuypers.

34 teeth

Connected to the screw

And 28 staves connected to the shaft

Is all that keeps our land above water.

But master, if the head were made of 56 staves

Would it not displace water twice as fast?

Excellent idea.

Except it would require

Twice the wind power to turn the screw.

In any case, what you're witnessing

Is merely one element of nature controlling another.

You and I don't control anything.

We are inconsequential grains of sand.

What are you doing?

Get down!

I saw a stork here last week.

Storks are good luck, you know.

If one nests on your roof, it means you'll be rich.

And if it eats out of your hand, you'll never go hungry.

Old-fashioned superstition.

We're at the dawn of a new, rational age.

Bridges and dikes and locks and drainage pumps--

They're all one big machine

Perfectly synchronized for the good of everyone.

It doesn't matter.

When the waterwolf wants to come over the dikes, he will.

There's no such thing as a waterwolf, Aletta.

Any more than there are witches.

The children call you a witch.

Does that make you one?

Maybe.

Anyway, their belief that I am

Is the only protection I have against them.

Yes, and they'll grow up irrational

Thinking storks bring good luck.

We are our own luck, Aletta.

And superstition is the enemy of the rational mind.

Are all students as silly as you?

So, nephew...

Have you found employment?

Is this what you're celebrating?

I have, indeed, aunt.

Master de koonig has agreed to take me on

As his assistant at the drainage facility.

Well...

You best mind yourself with that girl

In any case.

Attend me, nephew.

This is a respectable house, and I will not be shamed.

If you get mixed up with that girl

You'll be looking for another aunt to house you.

You have my word, aunt.

My behavior in this house will be exemplary.

In this house.

I'll start to show soon.

Are you certain, then?

You should marry me, student.

Soon.

When my position at the mill is secure.

The waterwolf is growing bold.

We'll have no talk of waterwolves.

I should not have let you take that, Aletta.

She won't miss it.

Do you think there's really a place like that

Where girls like her live so peacefully

Just sitting by an open window?

That would be Heaven.

So, has she run off then?

It's just as well.

If she had the child here...

The town elders would not rest until the father was named.

She'd die first.

I think you may be right.

But then, a young man

Who was fool enough

To get Aletta Pieters with child

Just might be fool enough

To stand up and name himself?

That would be the end of him.

I fear you give him too much credit, aunt.

Aletta, please, let me fetch a midwife!

No! They'll report it.

But...

Aletta!

Do as I say, student!

I see something...

Its head, I think.

Look, Aletta.

Set it down, Adrian!

Ready yourself!

I don't understand.

There's another!

I must go.

All the village men are being summoned

To fortify the sea dike.

They say that those that don't will be thrown in jail.

Bring me the boy.

And the little girl?

She's sickly.

The milk squirts from her nose when she sucks.

Besides

She bears the Mark of the evil one on her lip.

She's ours as much as the other.

She'll be taunted, jeered at all her life.

She'll turn mean and wild and she'll die of loneliness.

Trust me, I know.

Let's go!

Go! Go!

Move, move!

Faster, Johann, faster!

Faster, Johann, faster!

Breathe a word of this, student

And they'll stretch my neck.

Nephew

The wind is coming up again.

You should eat more.

You'll need your strength

If you are to work the dikes again tonight.

Aletta Pieters has murdered her newborn Infant.

Tried to bury it out back of the church, she did.

No! Help!

Help!

Don't let them take me!

She had the Mark of the evil one!

Don't let them hang me!

I beg you!

Please!

No one even suspects you exist.

The dike! The dike!

It's giving way!

Hurry up!

Help us! Help him!

You're a fine lad.

Far better than the likes of her.

Have you come for your painting, aunt?

You may have it.

But not my son.

Must you claim this child as your own?

You think I would leave my son

To the good people of Delfzijl?

Shh-shh.

Will you go back to the university then?

Can an inconsequential grain of sand learn, aunt?

I've been arrogant and foolish.

I've recognized the ignorance of others

But not my own.

What you have been, dear boy,

Is young.

I want you to take this painting.

I know she loved it.

I could never look at it again.

Thank you, aunt.

Ladies and gentlemen, please, please.

Next a painting of an unknown girl in hyacinth blue

Who paused in her sewing to look out the window.

Magdalena.

Did someone speak?

Magdalena.

Her name is Magdalena.

Magdalena, we are informed.

Done in the style of Vermeer

Though generally believed to be by Frans Hals...

Vermeer.

It is a Vermeer.

We are informed

It is a Vermeer.

Shall we start the bidding at ten gilders

For the girl in hyacinth blue

Whose name may

Or may not be Magdalena

Which may or may not have been

Painted by Vermeer?

Ten.

Twelve.

Fifteen.

Seventeen.

Twenty.

Twenty-two.

Twenty-four!

24 gilders I am bid.

Twenty-seven.

27 gilders.

Anyone else?

Sold to the gentleman over there.

Thank you, sir.

Magdalena's only hope now was that she would be marveled at

And maybe even loved

By viewers of her father's painting.

Francis! Henry!

Look what you've done.

You've broken papa's easel.

Now you've awakened the baby.

Come on. Let's go.

Willem.

What do you want?

Do you know when your mother is returning from Breda?

My mother don't want you around.

Mother says a man who can't keep his family

In bread and shoes

Has no business with a pregnant wife.

Your mother has a great many opinions, mmm?

What, uh.... What are you working on, Willem?

Vermeer...

You think she's going to give you money,

But you're wrong.

What makes you think so?

Because she promised me she wouldn't.

Do you know what she promised me?

She promised that if you ever go near your sister again

She'll have you put away.

Magdalena?!

Magdalena, go to the window.

Shh.

Is he out there?

No, mother.

Are you sure?

Shh.

I thought I saw him

Lurking in a doorway near the market.

I'm seeing him even when he isn't there.

Did you pay the baker?

I never got there.

I became too frightened.

I could go.

Be careful.

It's all we have.

Shh... Shh...

Mother?

What's wrong with uncle will?

Why does he try to hurt you?

Willem has never been right in his head

Not even when we were children.

And he doesn't want me to have any more babies.

He thinks your grandmother

Will divide her wealth among all of us.

So every time there's another child

He thinks his share gets smaller.

Mother...

My chores are done.

Can I stop at the wall on my way back?

No. Come right home.

Magda?

No more than an hour.

I promise.

Magda?

What is it you see there?

The whole world, mother.

Hey, you there... Girl!

Come over here.

Thought you'd sneak by me, didn't you?

Four gilders.

Over a hundred your father still owes me.

It's mine. You've no right to it.

It's worthless, as I might have guessed.

Magdalena.

The four gilders were for you.

Tell him he can pay me with a painting.

He paid you with a painting last year.

And a fine painting.

Mother says he's very foolish

Spending money on paint and canvas

When there's no bread and so many mouths to feed.

Have you asked him yet?

To teach you?

No.

But when the time is right, I will.

Maria...

Will you loan me 200 gilders

Against the sale of my next painting?

My son-in-law, the beggar.

My mother-in-law, the patron of the arts.

I promised Willem I would loan you no more.

So he informs me.

How much do you owe me already, huh?

How much do you owe me?

I? Owe you?

Who do you send for

Every time Willem gets in trouble?

When he drops his trousers in the convent courtyard?

When he goes on one of his drunken rampages?

Who is it that's kept him out of jail, Maria?

Exactly how many hundreds of gilders

Do you suppose this service to be worth, Johannes?

At the moment, 200.

I will consider the loan...

But only because Catherine is with child.

A handsome pitcher.

Have you another you could use for a while?

Dear Lord, a lunatic son... A lunatic son-in-law.

Yes, take it.

And the cloth?

Oh... Yes, yes.

Oh, just go, Johannes!

Father! Father! Come quickly!

It's uncle Willem!

I will kill you!

Hurry, Johannes!

No! Stop!

Please, uncle Willem!

No! Stop!

Please stop!

And where have you been, girl?

At the wall.

Mother said I could go.

This might not have happened if you had been here.

Come here.

The time has come to stop dreaming, daughter.

Time to see things the way they are

Not the way you want them to be.

She has lost the baby, then?

The choice is yours, mother-in-law.

Summon the magistrates

And have him thrown in prison

Or confine him in a private institution!

The private.

I'll make the arrangements.

He's my son, Johannes.

I will not have you

Raise your hand against him.

How are you then, Johannes?

I've been given the opportunity

To enter the caffa cloth trade.

I think maybe I will.

You have other obligations, you know.

I've not forgotten how much I owe you.

I was referring to the obligation to your talent.

Does the world really need another painting

Of a woman alone in a room?

The world doesn't know what it needs.

It never has.

I bread, and you paint.

You also have a duty

To your daughter, Magdalena, do you not?

She loves you, Johannes, and she wants to learn.

Surely, you've noticed.

Has she asked you yet?

I'm sorry, Magdalena, for what I said.

None of what happened was your fault.

I have a present for you, from the baker.

He also said you have a question you want to ask me.

No, father.

Stay still.

Don't move, Magdalena.

No, not at me.

Look out the window at the world you love.

It's a remarkable painting, Cornelia,

And a remarkable story.

But?

You make a compelling case, though I don't have to tell you

That much of it rests on speculation, conjecture,

And that's not even taking into account

The real problem, which is the gap.

You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Cornelia?

Because even if we concede the accuracy of your history

It leaves out the one thing necessary

To establish provenance.

It doesn't explain how that painting

Comes to be here in this room.

You think I haven't anticipated this question?

You think I haven't both feared and longed

For someone to ask it?

All right, then.

I will tell you one more story.

Once upon a time

In Amsterdam during the German occupation

There lived a family who owned pigeons.

They were against the law, of course, pigeons.

Isn't that the most astonishing thing--

That a bird should be against the law?

Did I mention they were Jews, this family?

Look, papa, there's Leo.

Hey, you're right, Tobias.

That's exactly who it is.

Did he bring a message?

Mm-hmm.

Here you go.

What does it say?

It says...

All is well with your uncle and cousins in Antwerp.

How about that?

That's pretty good news, isn't it?

There you go.

Papa?

Isn't that too much?

Isn't Leo going to get sick?

No, tonight we'll let him eat to his heart's content.

In fact, since it's Passover

Why don't we give Leo and his friends their freedom?

What do you think?

You remember the Passover story, right?

A night different from all other nights?

But where will Leo live?

In the air.

Who will feed him?

Everybody.

The world's full of good people.

What do you think, young lady?

There's no work to be done?

Besides cleaning this kitchen

There's a meal to prepare.

And who's going to boil the silverware?

Why don't you help your mother?

I don't want to.

Any news?

From Antwerp, yes.

It's as we suspected there.

But...

What's news anyway, huh?

Mere gossip.

We must have Faith this day of all days.

Hannah, will you at least go to the grocer's

For the parsley and the egg.

And the butcher-- he's saving us a nice shank bone.

What does it matter?

Matter?

What does that mean, "matter"?

You said yourself, papa.

Big things happening in the world.

Yes, big things are happening.

Tonight, for instance, Passover is happening.

Bigger things than Passover.

Everyone is saying so.

Big things, little things...

What is important and what is not is for you to decide.

You understand what I'm saying to you?

Good.

That's enough now.

They're clean.

Who can this be?

Let's go. Let's go. Come on.

In the room... You...

This way. Put them in here.

I'll go check upstairs.

Pigeons everywhere.

Keep moving.

Is this possible, then?

The delft light?

Lion-head finials on the chairs.

And...

The tapestry on the table.

All Vermeer.

You may come out now.

Do you hear me, little boy?

So...

Do you miss your pigeons?

Would you like

To come along with me?

What happened to the boy?

My father...

Took him to the trains,

And the trains took him to the camps.

Do you know what he's ashamed of-- my father?

If not that, then I can't imagine.

That he never Rose higher in the ranks.

You could give it up, you know

Put it in a museum.

He's my father.

Well, good-bye, Cornelia.

I see I was wrong about you.

Hmm.

You call yourself an artist?

You're just as blinded

By conventional morality as the rest.

"Conventional morality"?

Yes, I suppose that I am.

You have no right to judge us.

We saved that painting, my father and I.

We'd have given our lives for it, gladly.

We have given our lives for it.

Do you know what such devotion is called?

Such sacrifice?

Well, I'll tell you.

It's called love.

Richard!

It's not one of their better faculty houses

But it would give you a studio.

Oh, thanks, Adam. I think I'll pass.

Suit yourself.

Does feel haunted, I admit.

Imagine, packing up

And leaving in the middle of the night.

Not a word to anyone.

And you're saying that she had a Vermeer?

Right.

Should we call the authorities?

They should be punished.

No, their lives are punishment enough, I should think.

What about the painting?

Oh...

I wouldn't worry too much about the painting.

It's inspired several of its previous owners

To finally let it go.

I don't think Cornelia will be any different.

So, you really think it's authentic?

Well, I can't be sure

But I think it is, yeah.

So...

It's still out there, then.

Somewhere.

A Vermeer that nobody knows about.

I just can't seem to get it out of my mind.

And I don't think I want to.

---The end---