Goltzius and the Pelican Company Page #3

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So near,

I can smell the scent of the soap

that slides between your thighs,

So far,

my fingers can never be

long enough

to brush across your nipples.

Madam, may I approach you?

Will you approach me,

shaming me as I am wrapped

in winter furs?

Would you accept the offer

of my warm cloak

wrapped around your delightful

soft, pink and cream

most delightful body, Madam?

Madam,

I could come to you across

every rooftop in the world.

Ebola!

She is going!

She is leaving us!

The Pelican Company

will now present to you

a dramatisation of the story

from the Book of Genesis,

describing the efforts of Lot

and his daughters

to continue the human heritage

after the destruction

of Sodom and Gomorrah.

The second sexual prohibition

of our intended

dramatised six is incest.

The other taboos

may be considered crimes

and sins against society.

This taboo shrieks out her objection

in deficient progeny and infertility.

When the fires

at Sodom and Gomorrah raged,

Lot and his daughters,

grimy, sweating and exhausted,

took refuge in a hostelry across the river

from the conflagration.

All right! Strike me dead,

like you did my wife!

But God wanted Lot for a purpose

and did not destroy him.

I had a mistress.

She washed my feet.

Where is she now?

God, why were you so jealous?

What are these two whispering about?

Did they have husbands?

Did they have lovers?

God in Heaven...

...we have come to this to make babies!

And the pleasure of it

is all yours, God.

Or is it the Devil's?

Well it happened. He came.

We must have a boy.

This story of Lot and his daughters

is one of those subjects

that permits painters

to legitimately indulge

in their own lechery

and not be morally condemned.

I could always argue

that I am painting

a moral lesson against incest.

It is legitimate voyeurisme.

Like Actaeon spying on Diana,

and the elders spying on Susanna,

and David watching Bathsheba

bathing on the roof of her palace.

Euripedima.

We are too old for this.

We made our daughters

a long time ago.

We must have a boy.

A second boy.

And they did.

They did have a boy.

Two boys.

That night, these two sisters conceived.

Each with a son.

And the boys were healthy and whole.

No sign of the curse of incest

about them.

Lot's dynasty was preserved.

And the world was allowed

to begin yet again.

Third time lucky?

Did God overreact?

And remember, this is the second time

that God got it wrong.

God cannot make mistakes.

The first time was with Noah,

when the world had to be flooded

to rid it of the wicked.

And now wickedness

is to be destroyed by fire.

Water and fire.

What will he use next

to demonstrate his wrath?

You, it sounds.

Do not laugh.

This man is dangerous.

Can't you impeach

that playwright?

Accuse him of something -

blasphemy, heresy, moral turpitude?

We can.

- Which?

- All of them.

But you invited debate

in a court of free speech,

and in public any of these accusations

may turn against your reputation

for the same.

Your morality as a man

is a private affair

between you and your God,

may he forgive you!

But as a prince,

your morality is a public issue.

Your case with William Boethius

over his concubine Adaela

will be compared to the case of David

with his concubine Bathsheba.

Only you are no David

and are entirely unlikely

to produce a Solomon,

with that stupid brainless ninny

you married to excuse your actions.

Find me a charge, or I'll find one myself.

Tomorrow night's performance

will take place on the palace roof.

High in the air.

Goltzius-.

I cannot play Bathsheba

tomorrow night.

And why ever not?

Are you afraid of heights? Huh?

Too much exposure.

On the roof, or of your person?

Come on.

Are you really saying this? Huh?

- Are you really telling me this?

- Yes.

You love being

in front of an audience.

There are limits.

And I'm sure

you have not reached them.

It's best I limit my appearances.

I must preserve myself a little.

The Margrave has taken

a personal interest in me.

I'm going to reserve myself for him.

I tried to keep everything under control,

but there are things that just elude you,

escape your jurisdiction.

And none more so

than the actor or actress.

Your eyes madam,

held the melancholy of the world.

Why, thank you, sir.

You are too generous.

Though I was not so sure

I understood that last kiss.

A presumption

by our friend the playwright?

Oh, on the contrary.

I insisted he should do it

to remind him where his duty lay

and my love resided.

I trust we will see you again...

- ... tomorrow night?

- Oh, no.

The role of Bathsheba

is always played by Susannah.

It requires a mature woman.

And she has played it with excellence

many times before.

They are the loose cannon

on board the ship.

And whatever you pay them

or charm them with,

or bribe them or threaten them,

if they have made up their minds

you are obliged to go with the flow.

Like a dead fish.

Ah, Goltzius!

You are here to amuse me,

to amuse my court, goddamn it!

I thought, sire,

I thought that you had your own procurer,

your own pander?

I beg your pardon, madam,

your own procuress.

It is not an official title.

Oh, and why ever not?

You must make it one.

The royal body-taster.

If you want such a title Ebola,

you shall have it.

Especially if you persuade

that young lady

to rehearse a little with me.

You can offer her

what you think is suitable.

Up to half my kingdom,

I was thinking. Huh!

But only if you think it's suitable.

Come, we too have

a stately ship at sea,

and must sail away.

Bon voyage, monsieur.

Bon voyage, Goltzius, mariner!

You have just drowned your ship.

How do I get to f*** that woman?

What's stopping you?

Her husband.

Her husband?

Her husband is not her husband.

He does not believe in husbands.

She is his mistress, therefore anybody's.

- Kill him.

- Ha.

Goyal, your solutions

are far too real.

Darling, death is as simple as it gets.

I'm not f***ing my wife in public.

All right. Then I'll play David

and I can f*** your wife in public.

Out of the f***ing question.

Now, give me that peddle box.

It's a Pity,

because then I think

we lose our finances

to build the printing press

that you wanted so badly.

That you planned for, drew for,

painted for, for five years.

Planning and work

down the drain, out to sea,

washed up, drowned, swamped.

You really think that the prince

wants to see my wife being f***ed

when he can buy

any woman in the world?

Turn it around and shake it.

What happened to Susannah?

If she wants more money

we must find it.

It's Susannah.

It's not the money.

Susannah has seen the light.

She is besotted with the Margrave.

She says he is a great lover,

and she wants to save herself for him,

she does not want to lose her chances

by appearing naked in public any more.

She says that the Margrave

is bored with his silly wife

and as soon as he has a son

he will not f*** with her again,

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