Girl With A Pearl Earring Page #2

Yes?

About the studio, mistress.

Should I clean the windows?

You don't need to ask me

about such matters.

It's just...

it may change the light.

Of course.

Wash them.

(gasping)

Stay as you were.

By the window.

Drop it.

Just...

You can go.

(bells tolling)

Priest:
Brothers and sisters...

welcome to the house

of the Lord God.

Let us lift up our hearts

and voices together

to give Him thanks and praise

for our safe passage...

Father, mother,

this is Pieter,

our butcher's son...

the family's butcher.

Sir, mistress,

I'm glad to meet you.

So, the butcher...

that's a good trade.

Griet is the hardest to please

of all our customers.

Aye, she gets that from me.

There now, I forgot.

We must speak with

Willem Jansson.

Griet, you go on

with Pieter there.

- Man:
Good morning.

- So Griet...

where is that smile

you owe me,

when I have been so clever

as to track you down?

You had nothing better

to do.

Woman #1:
Shocking.

She should know better.

Woman #2:

She should at her age.

When I saw you with Tanneke I thought

you were a little Catholic girl.

He started a new painting.

There's no buyer.

He won't even let me see it.

But he's working again.

It usually takes him longer.

Man:
Good.

Very good.

Keep it level all the time.

Do you know what it is?

A camera obscura.

Look into the glass.

Here. Put this on.

(gasping)

You can see?

- I'm so sorry, sir.

- No, don't worry about the robe.

What did you see?

I saw the painting.

But...

how did it get in there?

See this?

This is called "a lens."

Beams of reflected light

from that corner pass through it...

into the box...

so that we can see it here.

Is it real?

It's an image.

A picture made of light.

Does the box show you

what to paint?

It helps.

Girl #1:
You didn't get me.

I got you.

Girl #2:
No, you're cheating.

Girl #1:
Oh, do we have to play this?

Girl #1:
So...

- Girl #1:
Stop it.

- Girl #2:
Oh, look Cornelia.

There.

Now you're it.

- I've got it.

- I've got it.

Yes I can.

- No way.

- It's mine.

- No.

- I'll catch it.

Man:
Cornelia!

I won't tell you again.

Woman:
Girls, come inside.

- Why?

- Come on. Don't make a fuss.

It's dirty now.

(giggling)

- I'm sorry, sir.

- Shh...

Stay.

Lead white.

From the cupboard.

Please let me see your hair.

What color is it?

Brown.

Straight or curly?

Neither.

Long?

- Very long?

- No.

My mother will expect me home.

She knows where you are, Griet.

- (steps)

- You're looking at it?

Well...

Nothing is the right color.

This is the base color.

It gives the tone...

shadow in the light.

And when it's dry...

I glaze over it with blue, but...

thinly, so that

the black shows through.

Look, Griet.

Look at the clouds.

What color are they?

White?

No...

not white.

Yellow.

Blue...

and grey.

There are colors

in the clouds.

Now you understand.

Thinking about

your butcher boy?

Come.

This... is ruby shellac.

Gum arabic.

Wine skin.

This will make verdigris.

Malachite.

Vermilion.

That...

linseed oil.

Bone black.

An you grind it with a muller,

like this.

You try.

Twist from the shoulder.

It's like this.

- (baby crying)

- Mistress:
Griet!

The child needs a draught.

My mother will not be content

till one of them dies from her meanness.

Come on.

You will need...

On the master's account.

- Griet.

- Sir?

I want you to get something

for me, too.

I want some colors.

My wife need not know.

This is too thin.

Did you get the lapis?

You can mix the colors.

Mix the colors?

Sir, I haven't time.

Make time.

(baby crying)

(snoring)

Mistress:
Nurse!

- Nurse.

- Nurse:
I'm coming.

Mistress:
Nurse! Come on!

Quickly.

How much longer is the wet nurse

to be with us, mistress?

I don't know.

A month or so.

No, Cornelia,

not my pearls.

A month or more.

Why?

What's it to you?

Well, she's eating us out of house

and home for a start.

She must eat for the baby.

All I'm saying is, I can't cook

twice as much and have no sleep at all.

Tell her to be quiet, then.

If I could just go back to the cellar...

Well, you can't.

Griet has your place.

Why not move Tanneke back?

Put a mattress in the attic

for Griet.

Tanneke can sleep soundly...

and Griet can clean the studio

before she comes down in the morning.

My jewels.

You always have my jewels

up there to paint.

She...

You lock up at night,

open it in the morning.

There.

Are you satisfied, Tanneke?

Yes, mistress.

Got it.

I win again.

No, we are drawing.

- Well, I do.

- No you don't.

No need to go

to the fish market tomorrow.

Mistress wants eggs.

No...

she cannot abide the smell

when she's with child.

So soon?

As if there weren't enough mouths

to feed already.

Still...

what can you do, eh?

Men.

Marvelous.

No, Jan.

(laughing)

Why did you move the chair?

She looked trapped.

(distant thunder)

Maria:
Griet!

Are you up there?

One of my tortoiseshell combs

is gone.

Mistress:

She's nothing but trouble.

Griet:
Master, I did not do it.

Help me.

Tanneke:
Please.

Let me look for you.

Maertge:
Papa?

- Father?

- Tanneke:
Don't!

Leave it alone. I'll find it.

Please, sir.

Mistress:
What's going on?

What are you doing?

Stop it!

For heaven's sake,

you're scaring the children.

What are you doing?

Cornelia.

(groaning)

She's dishonest.

Always sneaking around.

Shirking her work.

Tanneke has complained of it.

Creeping upstairs all day long.

My daughter is right,

there has been too much sneaking about.

I only took her

out of charity.

- If I thought she'd be...

- With another child due

we need the extra help.

Fit in all your work

and do not slack

or it will be the worst for you.

I shall invite Master Van Ruijven.

Johannes must have

a new commission.

Get back to work.

Van Ruijven:
All these girls.

The boys will soon

be swarming around like flies.

I tell you, if I was

a few years younger...

A connoisseur in everything,

Master Van Ruijven.

But you should be faithful

to one mistress above all others...

Art.

Your name will surely be famed

as one of the great patrons.

With your exquisite taste,

your subtle understanding

of allegory and allusion...

No, no, stop it, stop it. My God, woman,

you could sell sour milk to cows.

Now what is it you want?

A group painting.

Yourself and Emilie.

Your lovely daughter too.

Or...

a merry company.

Wine...

a good meal on your table.

Your friends all about.

Music.

- And dancing.

- It's better. Better, better.

I'll take your bait.

The picture, several figures.

A merry gathering,

but no family portrait.

And if I'm to spend

tedious hours sitting

I want something

I can rest my eyes on.

I think she ought to be

in the painting.

A tavern scene.

It will make a change for you.

Griet could come and serve me.

Look at her, man.

How hard is it

to paint a pretty girl?

Can I have her?

Griet, there's been talk

of you.

I've done nothing.

Van Ruijven's cook says

you're to be painted with her master.

You'll have heard about him and the maid

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