Goltzius and the Pelican Company Page #6

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considering the mighty army

of black servants, male and female.

I'd love to have a black baby

with one of them.

You can't. It's forbidden.

You have to put up with me.

And if... If black flesh excites

you that much, why don't you...

black me over with Quadfrey's ink?

Come.

Quadfrey's dead.

Drowned!

Bound to be.

Swept out into the freezing

waters of the Rhine.

It's winter. He'll freeze.

What the hell did you think

you were doing?

In love?

In love? I don't believe it!

She has no business being in love.

She's a dynastic pawn!

Dynastic pawns don't fall in love.

We could make a fortune.

Deluxe signed copies.

Printed black babies

in the print shops of Amsterdam,

Rotterdam and Paris.

No pain. No sweat.

No mess.

No quicker way to populate the world.

Slick them in the ground in Virginia

alongside tobacco plants.

And black babies and tobacco could

grow together, side by side.

A mirage in the water.

A big scaly white fleshy fish

with a Neptune cock

wrapped around with red ribbon.

And a swordfish nose

that could tickle me deep inside.

Impotent, by all accounts.

A fishy eunuch.

He can't even get his wife pregnant.

Don't worry.

The baby's yours.

- Who are these ladies?

- Just white servants dancing.

And not dancing very well.

True, but that's intentional.

I understand unprotected innocence

can be alluring.

Possibly.

You see?

- Oh, dear, what a waste.

- Yes, you could say that.

Choice - castration or Adaela?

Castration, of course.

But considering the amount of blood

now in my very erect prick,

I will probably bleed to death.

I have to take to the Margrave

something to prove

you have been tortured.

"Finger!" No!

No!

You f***ing fat black n*gger b*tch.

Pain releases all the greatest

and worst prejudices,

now doesn't it just?

I... have a proposition.

I will play Potiphar's wife.

My word!

A quick reaction, I wonder why.

Susannah will play

Potiphar's wife.

I think that you should ask her

to stand down.

- I'm sure she won't.

- I won't.

I could easily agree,

if I can play Potiphar.

Of course you can play Potiphar.

When Joseph, stupid boy,

proves to be reluctant,

Potiphar's wife goes to her husband,

who is played by you-.

You put Joseph in jail.

Then I, as Potiphar's wife...

...sleep with my husband Potiphar,

who is you.

Easy. Simple.

And you release Boethius.

- Is it a bargain?

- Such eagerness, good Lord!

Potiphar, indeed, could do those things.

And he must.

It's part of the bargaining contract.

So I, the Margrave, playing Potiphar,

legitimately, so to speak,

sleeps with his wife.

You cannot do this.

The Margrave is going to be mine.

No Susannah. Think, think.

That is never going to happen.

Yes, it is.

Yes, it bloody is!

There's something much more

valuable than a f***ing finger!

You open this door!

Your Madame, madam,

honourable sirs, gentlemen.

This evening, we present to you

for your moral education,

"The Seduction of Joseph

by Potiphar's Wife".

We are at Luxor,

in Egypt, home of the Pharaohs.

Most particularly, we are invited

to the house of Potiphar,

the Pharaoh's chancellor.

And - ooh!

- Most pertinently

we have been invited innocently,

like Joseph,

to the chamber of Poliphar's wife.

Like Joseph,

we can imagine ourselves to be

on an innocent visit,

to supervise some small

domestic pecuniary business,

to evaluate the cost of repainting

the chamber decorations,

the importation of new bed-fittings

from Mesopotamia or...

...the purchase of a new chamber pot.

Good luck.

Our next and fourth sexual taboo -

the seduction of the young.

Which is a crime against innocence

and a naked demonstration of power.

Joseph, how much do they pay you?

I don't get paid.

I'm a Jewish prisoner-of-war.

I'm a slave

and I have no use for money.

- God provides.

- Really?

What does he provide?

Sunlight. Day and night.

The air.

The ground I walk on.

He is the Great Provider.

- Be unfaithful, be quiet.

- Yes. Be quiet.

Be noisy, shout, fall silent,

sleep naked like a hedonist,

sleep clothed and shaven like a nun.

Sleep naked like a hedonist,

sleep clothed and shaven like a nun.

Now, there's a thing - nuns.

Adaela as a shaven nun.

This could be alluring.

Let us talk about your clothes.

I wear the uniform of a servant,

the hat and the shoes of a slave,

and all the necessary

tags and badges

and the compulsory labels

that say I am a Jew.

I wear the obligatory yellow Star of David.

Well, well, I'm sure

I can persuade my husband

to get rid of all those tags and badges

and compulsory labels.

The subject of Potiphar's wife

is fashionable among painters

and their clients,

just now in Europa.

And it is curious to see

how each painter deals with the subject.

What changes is the, er,

well now, the degree

of the sexual demand, huh?

The desire of Potiphar's wife

as read largely on her face.

Then...

Then the strength of Joseph's resistance.

How repulsed, in fact is Joseph?

Doesn't that feel cooler?

- Yes.

- And you look so much better.

Not quite so stupid in the clothes

provided by someone else.

So handsome.

You really are

a handsome young man.

I'll take off my shirt.

That's better.

How about those heavy trousers?

- No.

- I say yes.

I'm told the Jews mark themselves

as separate human beings

from the rest of us.

To indicate their separateness,

their superiority.

That they cut and mutilate themselves

to prove that they are Jews.

Surely, a contradiction

for people keen to be

appreciated as "very civilised".

Are they doubting that God

fashioned them correctly

so that they have

to finish the job themselves?

I'm curious.

Will you let me see if ifs true?

Will you show me?

There now!

You must surely

now feel more comfortable?

Cooler?

- I am.

- Let me look at you.

Good!

Beautiful!

And I do believe

that the marks of a Jew

could not be so bad after all.

I was expecting something very wounded.

There are some equivocations here.

The important question is,

did I suspect that

the Margrave's brother,

and therefore we may presume

the Margrave himself,

was circumcised?

Were they Jewish?

This family

of Holy Roman Empire brethren?

I doubted it then and I doubt it now.

You may turn around again.

Look at me.

Look at my body.

Are you pleased with what you see?

"No, madam!"

Why ever not?

Many men would be happy

to see what you're looking at.

Sulking, unrequited lover.

- But freely, freely.

- Spiteful-.

Spiteful.

Freely.

What in God's name is that?

Is there anything called freedom?

I'm the free-est man in this kingdom

and I do not feel free at all.

Now, I'm giving you

love and affection.

Well, let's say affection.

Physical affection.

Perhaps love, who knows?

But being a man of God...

I suspect you would not want

the love of a woman.

Was Susannah acting her role

or was she reacting

to what she observed?

Was she remembering the lines

written for her by Boethius?

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