The Garden of Allah Page #2

---

But, alas, it's only in me.

- I'm sure his trust is not misplaced, Father.

- Thank you, child.

My church is small, but it's always open.

And you wouldn't exchange it

for a great cathedral, would you?

I'm afraid I wouldn't.

Now you need rest after your journey.

Your hotel is yonder.

Batouch, take good care of madame.

That song, what does it say?

It is the song of the freed slaves, madame:

"No one but God and I

knows what is in my heart."

No one but God and I...

knows what is in my heart.

What is he afraid of?

Irena, the dancing girl.

The most terrible girl in all of the Sahara.

- She wants to kill Hadj.

- Why?

She loves him.

This way, madame.

I didn't know that Hadj could laugh.

Whatever did you say to him?

I told him Irena was not dancing tonight.

- But you told me she was.

- And so she is.

She wants money, madame.

Why doesn't he give it to her?

- He doesn't understand. Go and tell him.

- Yes, madame.

Thank you for helping me.

- Good night.

- Good night.

I can look after myself now.

- I'll go with you, madame.

- I'm not afraid.

I'll go with you.

But if I prefer to be alone?

Then I'll follow you, madame.

Come with me, then.

She loves him, so she tried to kill him.

It doesn't seem reasonable, does it?

I know nothing of such things.

Women are hard to fathom.

Some men, also.

Salaam, madame.

The life of madame is in the sand.

I see. I see it clearly.

I know the past.

I read the future. The future of madame.

The life of monsieur, I begin to see.

Shall we hear what he has to say?

No!

Thank you.

I'm Domini Enfilden.

My name is Boris. Boris Androvsky.

You're Russian?

My mother was French, my father a Russian.

That is my name.

- Perhaps we'll meet again.

- I hope so.

I'm riding tomorrow

to the oasis of Sidi-Zerzour.

- Good night.

- Good night.

I hope I'm not intruding...

but I didn't know whether you meant me

to ride with you or not.

I practically asked you to.

I didn't understand that. I couldn't believe it.

You see, I've lived so long

out of the world...

I don't know the right things to do.

These things aren't important, anyway.

They really aren't.

You're very kind, madame. Thank you.

Madame, monsieur.

Count Anteoni. My great friend.

Count Anteoni, you are welcome

as raindrops pattering upon a parched city.

The flowers droop in your absence. The--

The flowers may droop, Batouch,

but never you.

Madame Enfilden, this is Count Anteoni.

Count Anteoni, this is Monsieur Androvsky.

Greetings, madame, monsieur.

I hope I haven't disturbed you...

but in this sun, one heads towards an oasis

as towards heaven.

- Won't you join us for coffee?

- Thank you, madame.

- In the desert, a fellow traveler is a friend.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes