The Prophet Page #4

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"But eat not from the same loaf

"Sing and dance together and be joyous

"But let each one of you be alone

"Even as the strings of a lute are alone

"Though they quiver with the same music

"Give your hearts

But not into each other's keeping

"For only the hand of Life

Can contain your hearts

"And stand together

Yet not too near together

"For the pillars of the temple stand apart

"And the oak tree and the cypress

"Grow not in each other's shadow"

- Thank you, Mustafa.

- It was lovely.

My pleasure.

Ha-ha!

I said "five minutes."

And you've taken advantage

of my generosity.

- Let's go. Now!

- Oh!

Killjoy.

Goodbye, everybody.

And good luck to the two of you.

And thank you, Mustafa, for our blessing.

Again with the kissing.

Come here.

Goodbye, Mustafa.

Goodbye!

Ah! It's a beautiful day for sailing.

If Mustafa sets foot

on that ship, I'll eat my fez!

Take care of yourself.

Goodbye, good people. Goodbye!

Safe journey!

Farewell!

My cake!

I'll stick with the baklava.

Those foolish peasants.

They hang on your every word.

After all this time, they still see you

as their great leader.

With all due respect, Sergeant,

they're neither foolish nor peasants.

And I'm no leader.

What, then? A teacher?

What is a teacher?

He can only lead you

to the threshold of your own mind.

We all stand alone

in our understanding, Sergeant.

You and I.

You hear that, Mustafa?

That's who the people are.

Sheep, waiting to be led

by the strongest...

Ow!

Are you, uh, all right, sir?

Who did that? Hmm?

Well, Sergeant,

I suppose even the sheep

have the last word, sometimes.

Whoa!

Good boy.

Well,

I did...

Huh? Huh! Oh!

Huh?

Oh!

You see?

Mustafa?

It's him.

Hurry.

Mustafa?

Mustafa.

Ooh!

Oh!

Ugh.

Oh!

Oh! Ho! Ho!

- Oh, my!

- Are you okay?

That was a close one.

It's all right, it's all right, I...

Oh, I am fine, thanks.

- Welcome back.

- Good to see you again.

- How's your wife?

- We missed you.

How are the children?

So big now you wouldn't recognize them.

That's terrific.

So glad you're back.

Yes, yes, yes.

We're all pleased as punch

to see Mustafa again.

But it's time to get back to

whatever it is you people do.

That's right, Gramps.

Your olives aren't going to

press themselves, are they?

You've important work to do.

Oh, no, sir.

His words are worth

more than my sacks of olives.

Nonsense, my friend.

Oh! It's true, Mustafa.

I don't know how I could have

gotten through that terrible drought year

without your words to reassure me.

Or us, when our child was ill.

Or me, putting up with my mother-in-law.

Truly, your work means more than ours.

Oh, shut up!

Oh, dear, let me help you.

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