not be tempted by himself alone, then he will tempt her with gold !
Jeronimus likes Jacobsz but is under no illusions as to where the skipper’s talents lie. For all his great abilities as a mariner, he is clearly a buffoon in matters of seduction, and in the person of Lucretia he is continually crashing upon a shore that bears him no welcoming harbour between two friendly outreaching peninsulas, and never will.
Personally, meanwhile, Jeronimus puts himself not only at the top of the list of those who want Lucretia but, more importantly, of those who deserve her. Is he not a sensualist almost by profession, who knows better than any man not so much how to please a woman – for who cares about that? – but how to please himself with a woman? And no matter that, to this point, he has himself fared no better than Jacobsz in his own careful advances towards her – she is as cold as a frozen Amsterdam canal to him, too – it is still only early days.
Jeronimus has long ago learned in his amorous career that, when pursuing a woman, even a seemingly unattainable one, it is amazing how opportunities sometimes present themselves, once circumstances have changed. Quite how the circumstances might change on this journey, he knows not, but there remains a good six months until they are due to arrive in Batavia, and anything could happen . . .
In the meantime, however, there is something that galls both Jacobsz and Jeronimus about Lucretia. While she has been fully resistant to their own charms, she soon becomes quite taken with those of that endlessly irritating cur, Pelsaert!
Oh, how gaily she laughs at the Commandeur’s stories, how deferential she is to his views, how interested she is in everything that being a long-time official of the VOC entails, as Pelsaert expounds at great length a broad range of subjects: his dealings with the Moguls at court in Surat; his rapid rise within the VOC while previously in the Indies; the intricacies of the indigo industry; the seductive properties of certain spices and scents; what they can expect when they arrive in Batavia; and so forth. And even helping him in his wretched spiels is his infernal notary, Salomon Deschamps, who was with him in India for nigh on eight years. He is sitting to his right now, knows all the best stories by heart and is constantly steering the Commandeur to his advantage, to make him look and sound even more impressive.
Glowering, Jacobsz tries to disguise his irritation the best he can, yet he only partially succeeds. He simply cannot believe that it has come to this, that this delectable Dutchwoman can see anything in Pelsaert. And yet it is true.
Either by way of refuge or out of simple compassion, Lucretia is progressively more drawn to Commandeur Pelsaert as the journey continues. He is a refuge to her because he is one of the few men on the ship who does not overtly leer at her, and she feels compassion for him because his illness has now developed to the point that he frequently has to retreat to his cabin for days at a time, and Lucretia has adopted the role of a quasi-nurse.
Just as Pelsaert is isolated from the men on the ship by his ill health, and also by his exalted rank, Lucretia is rather isolated from the women, and not nearly as isolated from the men as she would wish . . . so, like Jeronimus and Jacobsz, she and Pelsaert fit well together.
3 December 1628, Batavia
For those hardy souls living in Batavia in the East Indies, the towering citadel in the north-eastern section of the settlement is a source of enormous comfort. No matter that they have now effectively been under siege for the last two months, just a look at the well-fortified castle makes them feel stronger for the fact that if they are overrun, here is their shelter of last resort.
In the daytime, the citadel is visible from ten miles away, a profound statement of strength to potential assailants that they are wasting their time, for such a battlement could never fall.
Jeronimus likes Jacobsz but is under no illusions as to where the skipper’s talents lie. For all his great abilities as a mariner, he is clearly a buffoon in matters of seduction, and in the person of Lucretia he is continually crashing upon a shore that bears him no welcoming harbour between two friendly outreaching peninsulas, and never will.
Personally, meanwhile, Jeronimus puts himself not only at the top of the list of those who want Lucretia but, more importantly, of those who deserve her. Is he not a sensualist almost by profession, who knows better than any man not so much how to please a woman – for who cares about that? – but how to please himself with a woman? And no matter that, to this point, he has himself fared no better than Jacobsz in his own careful advances towards her – she is as cold as a frozen Amsterdam canal to him, too – it is still only early days.
Jeronimus has long ago learned in his amorous career that, when pursuing a woman, even a seemingly unattainable one, it is amazing how opportunities sometimes present themselves, once circumstances have changed. Quite how the circumstances might change on this journey, he knows not, but there remains a good six months until they are due to arrive in Batavia, and anything could happen . . .
In the meantime, however, there is something that galls both Jacobsz and Jeronimus about Lucretia. While she has been fully resistant to their own charms, she soon becomes quite taken with those of that endlessly irritating cur, Pelsaert!
Oh, how gaily she laughs at the Commandeur’s stories, how deferential she is to his views, how interested she is in everything that being a long-time official of the VOC entails, as Pelsaert expounds at great length a broad range of subjects: his dealings with the Moguls at court in Surat; his rapid rise within the VOC while previously in the Indies; the intricacies of the indigo industry; the seductive properties of certain spices and scents; what they can expect when they arrive in Batavia; and so forth. And even helping him in his wretched spiels is his infernal notary, Salomon Deschamps, who was with him in India for nigh on eight years. He is sitting to his right now, knows all the best stories by heart and is constantly steering the Commandeur to his advantage, to make him look and sound even more impressive.
Glowering, Jacobsz tries to disguise his irritation the best he can, yet he only partially succeeds. He simply cannot believe that it has come to this, that this delectable Dutchwoman can see anything in Pelsaert. And yet it is true.
Either by way of refuge or out of simple compassion, Lucretia is progressively more drawn to Commandeur Pelsaert as the journey continues. He is a refuge to her because he is one of the few men on the ship who does not overtly leer at her, and she feels compassion for him because his illness has now developed to the point that he frequently has to retreat to his cabin for days at a time, and Lucretia has adopted the role of a quasi-nurse.
Just as Pelsaert is isolated from the men on the ship by his ill health, and also by his exalted rank, Lucretia is rather isolated from the women, and not nearly as isolated from the men as she would wish . . . so, like Jeronimus and Jacobsz, she and Pelsaert fit well together.
3 December 1628, Batavia
For those hardy souls living in Batavia in the East Indies, the towering citadel in the north-eastern section of the settlement is a source of enormous comfort. No matter that they have now effectively been under siege for the last two months, just a look at the well-fortified castle makes them feel stronger for the fact that if they are overrun, here is their shelter of last resort.
In the daytime, the citadel is visible from ten miles away, a profound statement of strength to potential assailants that they are wasting their time, for such a battlement could never fall.
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