Girl With A Pearl Earring Page #3

that was painted before?

- You shouldn't believe gossip.

- Oh, I don't.

I'll tell Pieter

you asked after him.

Liver?

Griet.

You've heard?

I heard.

No smoke without fire,

they say.

- Is that what you think?

- No.

You're only a maid,

what can you do?

- I must get back.

- Don't walk away. Listen to me.

Just remember who you are.

Don't get caught up

in his world.

I am only a maid,

but I would never give in

to Master Van Ruijven.

I wasn't talking

about Van Ruijven.

Van Ruijven:

Ah, you girl, Griet.

Come here.

What were you doing today?

I missed you.

We both did.

I hear you've been of great use

to your master, pretty Griet.

All that grinding and stirring, eh?

Master and maid.

It's a tune we all know.

And you can practice together now

that we've made our bargain. Eh, Jan?

You won't forget, will you?

Good.

- What should I...?

- No.

No. I already... already begun

a group painting.

You're not to sit with Master

Van Ruijven, that much is agreed.

Thank you, sir.

I'm to paint you alone.

My daughter must not hear

of this other painting in her condition.

It's to hang

in his private cabinet.

He's no fool,

mind you.

An he won't be taken for one,

so don't think otherwise.

You're a fly in his web.

We all are.

Man:
You've to admit, my friend,

French swords are the best.

Tomorrow morning.

I cannot, I have work.

Find a way.

The front of your cap,

fold it back.

Take off your cap.

No, sir.

I cannot.

Cannot?

I will not.

I need to see

your face.

The cap covers too much.

There's some cloth

in the storeroom.

You know, I've a mind to go up there

one day and surprise him

in the act.

But you said yourself

it's very dull.

Oh, not with Emilie

when he's alone with some

young beauty.

Have you ever notice how

he never bothers with old women?

Only the young pretty ones.

On their own.

You'll have to wait then.

He makes only one painting

at a time.

Is that so?

Mistress:
Jan?

Jan?

My necklace.

Haven't you finished yet?

I'll be in my studio

until dinner.

Open your mouth.

Sir?

Open your mouth.

Less.

Now lick your lips.

Again.

Again.

(steps, door closing)

Girl:

Got you, got you, got you!

Wear these.

Good.

Look, Griet.

Point of light in the shadow of the neck

leading the eye.

Jan.

Sir.

- Do not ask this of me.

- It's needed.

The composition,

it's not balanced.

I've seen you paint

with no one there.

You want me to imagine

how the earring would look?

My ears are not pierced.

She'll find out.

This has to be, Griet.

See for yourself.

You looked inside me.

I've got you!

Now hold still.

I want to look at you.

Now, girl...

tell me how you get on

up there.

Has he found his composition?

Do you move him?

Do you inspire him?

Tell me, has the master's brush

unlocked the secrets of your heart?

Ripe as a plum...

still unplucked.

What's he playing at?

He made a bargain with me.

He's painting you at my pleasure.

- No!

- I've waited long enough.

What a great fool he is.

Don't fight.

No! No!

Woman:
Griet?

Not a word.

You'll lose your place.

He won't look at you again.

Woman:
Griet!

Ah, there you are, my dear.

The maid

kept me talking with some...

cock and bull story.

Well, girl?

What's to be done?

Master Van Ruijven

wants his paintings...

and he will bear no more delay.

If he crosses Van Ruijven over this...

he will lose him.

Then what?

My daughter is out for the day.

Do it now.

You do it.

Look at me.

Now turn your head,

not your shoulders.

Look at me.

There, that's it.

I'll see you later.

Don't rush away,

Griet, please.

Leave the house.

Join me and Paul

in the meat market.

- I must get back.

- I'll fetch your things,

I'll send someone.

No.

Our own life, Griet...

answering to no one.

Marry me.

(fast-paced steps)

(loud, distant arguing)

Mistress:
Laughing at me

in my own house.

I will see for myself.

No one will stop me.

There is nothing to see.

You're making yourself ridiculous.

Maria:
Calm, my dear.

Mistress:

I will not be calm!

Am I a child?!

Does no one speak the truth to me

in my own house?

By all the saints, if you would stop

screaming for a moment, I can explain.

More lies?!

I don't want to hear

any more of your lies, Mother.

I have a right to know.

So.

No more hiding now.

Here I am.

I want to see this painting.

There's no point.

No point?!

I am too stupid to look

at a painting now?

She can't read!

You know that?

Sit down.

You'll exhaust yourself.

Why can't I look?

It's just a commission. Gone

in a few days. You need never see it.

They are just paintings.

Pictures, for money.

They mean nothing.

Is it true she wore my pearls?

How could you?

How could you?

Show me this painting.

You'll make yourself ill.

You show me.

It's obscene.

Why don't you paint me?

Because you don't understand!

And she does?

(screaming)

No!

Get out of here!

Get out of my house!

(steps)

I've come

to the right place, then.

Tanneke?

This is for you.

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