Kismet Page #4

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One thing I will not have around the house

is class distinction.

- The Wazir's police.

- Oh!

Oh. Be not alarmed.

These fine constables can want nothing

from honest, well-to-do citizens.

- Nothing but your name, good sir.

- My name? Why, my name is...

Why do you ask?

Jawan the Brigand was recognized

in the bazaar this morning.

- I don't suppose you've seen him?

- Oh, no.

Very well. Name and place of residence?

Uh... Officer, I wonder if we couldn't

save ourselves much inconvenience.

I wonder if one piece of gold

would serve to identify me suffic...

- Not the whole thing.

- Do you admit possession?

Officer, let there be no misunderstanding.

That is my purse.

And it bears on it the sign

of the House of Achmed. Seize him.

- Sign of what?

- The House of Achmed...

...looted by thieves this last moon.

You, return these creatures

to the slave mongers.

Add the money to the evidence

against this thief. Take him to the Wazir.

The Wazir.

Away.

- Ah!

- Please don't scream.

Heh. Why should I scream?

I followed you from the bazaar.

Yes.

Are you accustomed

to having men follow you?

Yes. Sometimes at great speed.

It is not fitting for you

to answer that way.

You should have said, "No. "

I think you have no humor.

Goodbye.

I had an uncle who laughed sometimes.

- Who are you?

- You may call me Haroun.

Oh, of course, I may.

I may call you Mameluke ben Goathead,

but who are you?

Please, I don't wish to say just yet.

Oh.

You're a criminal.

No, not a criminal.

At least, not in his eyes.

Not in whose eyes?

Why...

...Allah's.

Mmm. Splendid reference.

Do you have any others? More local.

I'm afraid not. I am a stranger here.

Oh, not anymore, I hope.

Yes, I know.

That is not a fitting thing to say.

You are...

...very beautiful.

Probably it's just my pretty clothes

that attract you.

Having my hair combed...

...and my face washed.

Yes, that would make a difference.

Oh, I like you, stranger.

What is your business?

Your family's business?

We, uh...

- We try to make things grow.

- Oh.

Gardeners.

Gardeners.

Gardener...

Gardener, I do not think this is fitting.

No man has ever touched me before.

And no other man ever shall.

It is his will.

I do not belong to you.

This time I'm speaking of Allah's will.

You are too confusing for me.

Please, take your hand away.

I cannot.

Please.

Oh, why do the leaves

Of the mulberry tree

Whisper differently now

And why is the nightingale

Singing at noon

On the mulberry bough

For some most mysterious reason

This isn't the garden I know

No, it's paradise now

That was only a garden

A moment ago

Take my hand

I'm a stranger in paradise

All lost in a wonderland

A stranger in paradise

If I stand starry-eyed

That's a danger in paradise

For mortals who stand beside

An angel like you

I saw your face

And I ascended

Out of the commonplace into the rare

Somewhere in space

I hang suspended

Until I know

There's a chance

That you care

Wort you answer the fervent prayer

Of a stranger in paradise

Don't send me in dark despair

From all that I hunger for

But open your angel's arms

To the stranger in paradise

And tell him

That he need be

A stranger

No more

You say you're a gardener.

What flowers should I plant

along the fence?

I must go in a moment.

Will you meet me here this evening?

I thought hyacinths,

but perhaps oleanders.

At moonrise? Here in the garden? Please.

Yes.

Yes, of course.

- Until tonight.

- Tonight.

You won't forget? You won't fail me?

I saw your face

And I ascended

Out of the commonplace

Into the rare

Somewhere in space

I hang suspended

Until I know

Till the moment I know

There's a chance that you care

There's a chance that you care

Wort you answer the fervent prayer

Of a stranger in paradise

Don't send me in dark despair

From all that I hunger for

But open your angel's arms

To the stranger in paradise

And tell me that I need be

A stranger

No more

Bow low for the mighty Wazir.

Bow low for the mighty Wazir.

Silence then obedience.

The court of justice convenes.

The court begins its meditations.

"The case of the seller of candlesticks,

Ibn Nuwas...

...charged with breaking the pottery pots

of Ali Dah doud. "

Illustrious Wazir, Ibn Nuwas pleads

for a postponement of judgment...

...until his broken legs are mended.

He fell from a cushion

while being questioned.

Next case.

Great Wazir,

we have apprehended a thief...

...with a hundred pieces of gold

taken from the house of Achmed.

Let him appear.

Oh. At last, good fortune returns to me.

Good fortune?

The noble Wazir himself,

sitting in judgment.

Who could ask for a more righteous,

a fairer, a finer judge?

I loathe fawning criminals.

- He doesn't talk like a thief.

Oh.

Let your loveliness be the loot,

O princess...

...and every man is a thief.

Silence.

Oh, let him chatter a bit.

- The evidence against this criminal is as fo...

- I need no evidence.

Under the laws of Baghdad...

...I order that the right hand

of this liar, rogue and thief be cut off.

Have you aught to say

before sentence is executed?

Well, that I am a liar,

I am not a big enough liar to deny.

That I am a rogue can be verified

by anyone who knows me.

And that I am a thief is as true

as if it were written in the Koran.

But, in this particular case...

...I say, for the first time in my life,

I am innocent.

I dislike being mocked in public.

Add 20 lashes to my sentence.

Are you done with your protest?

It is rather expensive,

but I should like to continue.

I can understand your indifference

that I am innocent...

...O dispenser of justice.

I, the pick purse, the brawler,

the collector of women, innocent?

I can hardly believe my own ears.

Tell me, what sort of women

did you prey upon?

Till I beheld you, O princess...

...my memory of them

was that they were all beautiful.

Oh! It's his tongue

that should be cut off.

But let the sentence stand.

Right hand off.

Oh, noble Wazir.

I assure you that I despise innocence

as much as you.

It is at best a temporary state.

- What are you bothering me about?

- The small matter of losing my right hand.

As a poet and storyteller,

the loss would cripple my career.

- Scoundrel. I'm leaving you your mouth.

- Hold.

For that simple sentence,

you needed your hand.

It is the gesture which tells the story.

Let me convince you.

Oh, let him.

I love being convinced.

Dear hand, deft hand

Clever and facile extremity

Fond companion to me

From my birth

Sweet hand, swift hand

Spinner of fable and fantasy

Faithful friend of my art

Would they rend us apart

Leaving no finger or fist there

But just the hint of a wrist there

Where then my spirited wit

My mercurial charm

Am I fated to sit

With an elbow and arm

And no digits to top them off

If they lop them off

How could I plead to you?

How could I pray to you?

How intercede with you?

What could I say to you?

Like a dog with no tail

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