Paradise

It's not wise to encourage them,|Miss Sarah.

Your father never believe in it.

Oh, Geoffrey, don't be|such a fuddy-duddy!

Your father paid me well|to be a fuddy-duddy

and I shall continue to be so

until I get you safely home to London.

You're like a little bird.

What's he saying?

My dear Miss

unless they speak the King's English.

I'm as much at a loss as you are.

The King's English is fit for selling pigs

not for praising the beauty of|such a perfect desert flower.

El-Aziz, leave her alone.

She is under my protection.

Ah, Haboush, and what is|your protection worth?

Five gold coins for the girl

and ten if she is a virgin.

We shall meet again.

Then the English will be dealt with.

Thank you for helping us.

I'm afraid Geoffrey and I would|have been quite lost without you.

The British East India Company|did much business here.

Your father was greatly respected.

And a good friend to me.

Well that last fellow was|certainly a nuisance.

Sheik Abdul El-Aziz is much|more than a nuisance.

He is known as Elthatlab... The Jackal.

He is a slaver.

Pray to God you never|meet such a man alone.

Why was he offering you money?

He wanted to buy something|that caught his eye.

My father's watch?

No, you.

He must have been quite taken by you.

He offered an extremely|handsome price.

Bloody wogs.

Oh, excuse me sir,|I didn't mean you sir.

You must trust no one, Miss Sarah

The people of the desert|look upon the Frangi

the foreigners like yourself

much like the hawk|looks upon the sparrow.

Excuse me.

Five gold, ten it's enough.

One, two five, twenty five

five gold, ten, fifteen.

One, two, you can do better than|that it's a mountain girl.

Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen.

Come on, come on|she's a mountain girl.

Ten, fifteen.

Come on, show us your gold.

You english son of the bitch...

go on with the auction.

Today's girls are made of god.

David! What happened?

Nothing, mother.

David! It is a sin against God|to look upon such wickedness.

They are heathens. Non-believers.

They will burn in Hell.

Bashi, I wish only to hire a caravan

not to purchase one.

So do not try your thieving|tricks on me, my friend.

I must employ extra guards.

The way to Damascus|is most dangerous.

The sunrise is magnificent|over Baghead.

It would be sad if you were not|around to see the next one.

No, no, watch that trunk.

Careful with that, man.

What's the matter with you?|Are you asleep?

Dr. Hahn's Medical Journal.

It was Sarah's father's.

Lord Scott did not trust any doctor|outside of London.

Not without reason, rest his soul.

Bloody cholera.

Excuse me

excuse me, sir.

You, yes you, sir.

How do you do?

My name is McBride.

Reverend James McBride from Boston

my wife Rachel, my son David.

How do you do?

Ahmed Haboush.

This is Miss Scott

and her manservant, Geoffrey.

Bashi, we are loosing precious time.

I wonder if we might join|your private caravan.

We have some money... not much...

the people of God are not|always able to give.

We will be travelling fairly fast.

Perhaps you would be|more comfortable

with one of the large|merchant caravans.

But sir, we have been trying to get to|Damascus for nearly three months.

It would be an act of Christian charity.

Oh, yes.

We Moslems have always been|very concerned with Christian charity.

They won't give us any trouble.

Dear Lord

bless this food to our use that it may|nature us and give us strength

for our journey and for thy holy work|among the heathens

in Jesus' name, Amen.

Bloody camels.

What this country needs is|a fine English coachmaker...

bring'em into the 19th century.

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