All language subtitles for brushWithFate-faye-xvid

.

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---