Rembrandt's Mirror by Kim Devereux

as well she’s not working for me as I might get myself into trouble.’
    Did he not realize I could hear every word? How dare he speak in this way? But most unsettling of all, he was of the opinion that I possessed some kind of appeal. Maybe men’s tastes in Amsterdam were different from those in Bredevoort?
    â€˜Get to it,’ Rembrandt said. ‘Something is on your mind?’
    â€˜â€™Tis true enough, dear friend. I am very concerned for you.’
    â€˜What? I’ve not done anything, have I?’
    â€˜You have.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Windmills.’
    â€˜Windmills?’
    â€˜Yes, you’ve been doing a great many windmills. It is said that you’ve fallen prey to some kind of excessive humour that has you painting them all day, every day.’
    At this Rembrandt and Six both burst into uncontrollable laughter, then Six resumed his normal tone of voice. ‘Seriously, my friend, certain esteemed and important burghers are gettingdisgruntled that you’ve been turning down their generous portrait commissions.’
    â€˜Windmills are much prettier than their corm-nosed faces.’
    â€˜Yes, but windmills are not in a position to return your affection for them with important and lucrative commissions.’
    â€˜That is true but I wouldn’t want one or two patrons, no matter how important, to think they had marital rights over my brush.’
    Six chuckled. ‘I think there’s little danger of that as long as you make yourself and your brush widely available.’
    â€˜You’ll be my teacher,’ said Rembrandt.
    More giggling. I could not believe the rudeness of their talk or the childishness. Six, while being much younger than Rembrandt, was not a youth anymore. Still, I could see the attraction of having a friend like Six.
    Six said, ‘I want you to do a portrait etching of me.’
    There was a pause, then Rembrandt said, ‘What kind?’
    â€˜Whatever setting pleases you but I want it to be the epitome of sprezzatura .’
    â€˜Still trying to be the perfect gentleman courtier, are we?’
    Silence from Six, then Rembrandt said, ‘All right, remind me of the qualities involved. As you can see, I’m a little out of practice myself.’ I thought of Rembrandt sprawling on the chair during lunch.
    â€˜The usual, you know, attributes of both a contemplative life—’
    â€˜A pamphlet . . .’ interjected Rembrandt.
    â€˜. . . and an active and courageous one.’
    â€˜A sword, scabbard, dagger, cape, maybe a dog.’
    â€˜A dog?’ Six almost yelped.
    â€˜Well, let’s say a hound , to signify the qualities of loyalty and friendship and that you are a member of the hunting classes.’
    â€˜I see. All of this must seem effortless, as if we’ve put no thought into it at all.’
    â€˜We’ll have you casually leaning against something, your nose stuck in one of your manuscripts.’
    â€˜When can we start?’
    â€˜Come by next week.’
    â€˜I’m not sure about the dog, though,’ said Six.
    â€˜Hound!’
    â€˜All right, the hound ,’ Six said.
    â€˜Just bring it. I’ll do a quick sketch first.’
    â€˜Do you realize that you’re the only painter in town who has his clients cater to him rather than him catering to his clients?’
    â€˜What’s wrong with that?’
    Six laughed and said, ‘You ought to draw her. She’d be a better cure for your windmill habit.’
    Thankfully, Geertje came in with some beer. As soon as she’d left, Six remarked, ‘There goes the true owner of your brush.’
    I expected more laughter but there was only silence, then Rembrandt got up and closed the door.
    When I’d finished with that great big window, I’d had quite enough of working near the main door and dealing with callers. I wanted to be alone. I grabbed the pile of sheets that Geertje had