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English Patient (1996) Movie Script

    - How are you?
    - Okay.
    Your leg
    will be fine.
    A lot of shrapnel came out.
    I saved you the pieces.
    You are the prettiest girl
    I've ever seen.
    I don't think so.
    Here.
    - Would you kiss me?
    - No. I'll get you some tea.
    - It would mean such a lot to me.
    - Would it?
    Thank you.
    - I can't sleep.
    - Would you kiss me?
    - You're so pretty.
    - Will you tuck me in, please?
    Very funny.
    Go to sleep now.
    - Where's the doctor?
    - Don't ask.
    God, I hate giving blood.
    Can't stand needles.
    Is there anybody
    from Picton?
    Picton?
    I don't know.
    I'd like to see somebody
    from home before I go.
    - Do we have anybody from Picton?
    - Why Picton?
    He's from there. Edge of Lake Ontario,
    right, soldier?
    That's where your sweetie's from,
    isn't it? Around there?
    Ask him what company
    he's with.
    - Third Canadian Fusiliers.
    - Third Canadian Fusiliers.
    Does he know
    Captain McGan?
    He bought it yesterday.
    Shot to bits.
    - What did he say?
    - Doesn't know him.
    Hana, get down!
    He's dead. He's dead.
    He's dead.
    He's dead.
    Name, rank, serial number?
    No, sorry.
    I think I was a pilot.
    I was found in the wreckage of a plane
    at the beginning of the war.
    Can you remember
    where you were born?
    Am I being interrogated?
    You should be trying to
    trick me, make me speak German.
    - Which I can, by the way.
    - Why?
    - Are you German?
    - No.
    How do you know you're not German
    if you don't remember anything?
    Might... Might I have
    a sip of water?
    - Thank you.
    - It's okay.
    I remember
    lots of things.
    I remember her garden,
    plunging down to the sea.
    - Nothing between you and France.
    - This was your garden?
    - Or my wife's.
    - You were married then?
    I think so. Although I believe that
    to be true of a number of Germans.
    Look.
    I have this much lung.
    The rest of my organs
    are packing up.
    What could it possibly matter
    if I'm a Tutankhamen?
    I'm a bit of...
    toast, my friend.
    Sorry I can't help you.
    Are you all right?
    I know you hate to be moved.
    I'm sorry.
    Hana!
    - Jan?
    - Hana!
    There's meant to be lace in the next
    village. The boys are gonna take me.
    - You don't have any money, do ya?
    - No.
    - Just in case there's a sale.
    - No.
    Hana, I know you do.
    Come on.
    - No!
    - Oh, come on.
    I swear to God,
    this'll be the last time. I swear.
    She's a softie.
    She loves me.
    I'll pay you back! I promise!
    I'm not sewing
    anything else for you.
    I love you!
    Whoa!
    Pienza, boys!
    Get some water
    over here!
    Jan!
    Oh, no!
    Hana, where're
    you going?
    - Stay back!
    - Stop, Hana!
    Stay...
    No!
    No!
    - Hey! Hey!
    - Don't move!
    Don't move!
    Don't move!
    Stand absolutely still!
    You're walking in
    a mine field!
    Good.
    That's good.
    Just stay still
    for me...
    and we'll be fine.
    What are you doing?
    What the bloody hell do
    you think you're doing?
    It's Jan's.
    Are you in pain?
    Do you need something?
    - Yes.
    - Okay.
    Are you okay?
    - You and Jan were...
    - We keep moving him
    in and out of the truck.
    Why? He's dying.
    What's the point?
    We can hardly leave him.
    Do you mean leave him?
    No, no,
    I don't mean leave him.
    This will help you.
    I must be a curse.
    Anybody who loves me...
    Anybody who gets
    close to me...
    Oh, I must be cursed.
    Which is it?
    - When he dies, I'll catch up.
    - It's not safe here.
    The whole country's crawling with
    bandits and Germans and God knows what.
    - It's madness! I can't allow it.
    - The war is over.
    How can it be
    desertion?
    It's not over everywhere.
    I didn't mean literally.
    This is normal, a shock,
    for all of us, Hana.
    I need morphine, a lot.
    And a pistol.
    If anything ever happened to you,
    I'd never forgive myself.
    We're heading
    for Leghorn.
    "Livorno,"
    the Italians call it.
    We'll expect you.
    Fine.
    - Thank you.
    - You're welcome, ma'am.
    - Oh, Hana.
    - I'll be okay.
    I'll catch up.
    Good.
    What... What was
    all that banging?
    Are you... Are you fighting rats
    or the entire German army?
    No. I was repairing
    the stairs.
    I found a library,
    and the books were very useful.
    Before you find too many
    uses for those books,
    you might
    read some to me.
    I think they're all in Italian,
    but I'll look, yes.
    - What about your own book?
    - My book?
    Oh, yes,
    the Herodotus.
    Yes, you can read him.
    Oh. I found plums.
    We have plums
    in the orchard. There.
    We have an orchard.
    Herodotus is
    the father of history.
    - Do you know that?
    - I don't know anything.
    Hmm.
    It's a...
    It's a very plum...
    plum.
    A mountain the shape
    of a woman's back. Good, good.
    - Hello, Geoffrey!
    - Madox, hello!
    - Welcome to the expedition.
    - How do you do? Geoffrey Clifton.
    Splendid to finally
    meet you all.
    This is Dante D'Agostino
    and Diggy Bermann, our archaeologist.
    - Beautiful plane.
    - This is Sharif Al Fouad, Egyptologist.
    - And this is my wife, Katharine.
    - Hello.
    We're your
    new apprentices.
    Welcome to the International Sand Club.
    - To the International Sand Club.
    - I'll get cups.
    - Marvelous plane. Did you look?
    - Yes.
    Isn't it? A wedding present
    from Katharine's parents.
    We're calling it
    Rupert Bear.
    - Hello. Geoffrey Clifton.
    - Almsy.
    We can finally consign my old bird
    to the scrap heap.
    Mrs. Clifton,
    I'd like to present...
    - Count Almsy.
    - Hello.
    Geoffrey gave me your monograph
    and I was reading up in the desert.
    - Very impressive.
    - Thank you.
    I wanted to meet the man who could write
    a long paper with so few adjectives.
    Well, a thing is still a thing,
    no matter what you place in front of it.
    Big car, slow car,
    chauffeur-driven car.
    - Broken car.
    - It's still a car.
    - Not much use, though.
    - Love?
    Romantic love,
    platonic love, filial love.
    - Quite different things, surely.
    - Uxoriousness.
    That's my favorite kind of love.
    Excessive love of one's wife.
    Now there you have me.
    - They're tourists.
    - Absolute rot.
    They're highly recommended
    by the Royal Geographic Society.
    She's charming and
    has read everything.
    - He's meant to be a ruddy good flier.
    - We don't need another pilot.
    He can make aerial maps
    of the whole route.
    You can't explore
    from the air, Madox.
    If you could explore from the air,
    life would be very simple.
    Contact.
    Contact.
    I should try
    and move the bed.
    I want you to be able
    to see the view.
    It's good. It's a view
    from a monastery.
    - I can already see.
    - How?
    - How can you see anything?
    - No, no, not the window.
    I can't bear
    the light anyway.
    I can see all the way
    to the desert.
    I'm turning you.
    Exploring before the war,
    making maps.
    Is there sand in my eyes?
    Are you cleaning sand from my ears?
    No sand.
    That's your morphine speaking.
    I can see my wife
    in that view.
    Are you
    remembering more?
    - Could I have a cigarette?
    - Are you crazy?
    Why... Why are you so determined
    to keep me alive?
    Because I'm a nurse.
    Bravo.
    - Next!
    - Katharine!
    "The King insisted that
    he would find some way...
    "to prove beyond dispute...
    "that his wife
    was fairest of all women.
    "'I will hide you in your room
    where we sleep,' said Candaules...
    - said Candaules."
    - Candaules.
    "Candaules."
    Candaules.
    Candaules tells Gyges that the Queen has
    the same practice every night.
    She takes off
    her clothes...
    and puts them on the chair
    by the door to her room.
    "'And from where you stand,
    you will be able to gaze
    on her at your leisure. "'
    And that evening, it's exactly as
    the King has told him.
    She goes
    to the chair,
    removes her clothes
    one by one,
    until she's standing naked
    in full view of Gyges.
    And indeed, she was more lovely
    than he could have imagined.
    But then,
    the Queen looked up...
    and saw Gyges concealed
    in the shadows.
    And although she said
    nothing, she shuddered.
    And the next day,
    she sends for... for Gyges
    and challenged him.
    - And hearing his story,
    this is what she said.
    - Off with his head!
    She said, "Either you
    must submit to death...
    "for gazing on that
    which you should not,
    "or else kill my husband
    who has shamed me...
    and become King
    in his place. "
    So Gyges kills the King,
    marries the Queen and becomes ruler
    of Lydia for 28 years.
    The end.
    Shall I spin
    the bottle?
    So, Geoffrey,
    let that be a lesson to you.
    - D'Agostino!
    - D'Agostino!
    Are you asleep?
    Yes.
    No. I'm dropping off.
    Go away!
    Go! Go!
    Buon giorno.
    - Hana?
    - What do you want?
    I met your friend Mary.
    She said I should stop and see
    if you were all right.
    Apparently we're neighbors. My house
    is two blocks from yours in Montreal.
    Cabot, north of Laurier.
    - Bonjour.
    - Bonjour.
    For you.
    I'd like to take credit for it,
    but it's from Mary.
    My name is David Caravaggio,
    but nobody ever called me David.
    Caravaggio they find
    too absurd to miss out on.
    Oh!
    Oh!
    Oh, shit.
    Stupid hands.
    Let me do that.
    They're fresh.
    I haven't had
    an egg in...
    Have you noticed
    there are chickens?
    In Italy, you get chickens
    but no eggs.
    In Africa, they're always eggs
    but never chickens.
    - Who's separating them?
    - You were in Africa?
    Yes, I was.
    So was my patient.
    Look, I'd like to
    stay for a while.
    I have to do
    some work here.
    I speak the language.
    There are partisans to be disarmed.
    We embrace them and see
    if we can relieve them of their weapons,
    you know,
    while we hide.
    I was a thief, so the army
    thought I'd be good at it.
    - So you can shoot a pistol?
    - No.
    Do you have a problem
    with those?
    No.
    - I should look at them before you go.
    - Look.
    It's a big place.
    We needn't disturb each other.
    I'll sleep in the stable.
    It doesn't matter where I sleep.
    I don't sleep.
    I don't know what Mary told you
    about me, but I don't need company.
    I don't need
    to be looked after.
    There is a man
    downstairs.
    He brought us eggs.
    He might stay.
    Why?
    Can he lay eggs?
    He's Canadian.
    Why are people always so happy when they
    collide with one from the same place?
    What happened in Montreal
    when you passed a man in the street?
    Did you invite him
    to live with you?
    He needn't
    disturb you.
    He can't.
    I'm already disturbed.
    There's a war. Where you come from
    becomes important.
    Why? I hate that idea.
    Ah!
    It's gonna work.
    Gently.
    Can I help?
    It's finished.
    So, you're our
    Canadian pickpocket?
    Thief I think
    is more accurate.
    I understand you were in Africa.
    Whereabouts?
    Oh, all over.
    All over?
    I kept trying to cover
    a very modest portion and still failed.
    - Are you leaving us?
    - Yes.
    Now's our opportunity
    to swap war wounds.
    Then I'm definitely going.
    Does she have
    war wounds?
    I think anybody
    she ever loves...
    tends to die on her.
    - Are you planning to be the exception?
    - Me?
    I think you've got...
    the wrong end
    of the stick, old boy.
    So...
    Caravaggio.
    Hana thinks
    you invented your name.
    And you've
    forgotten yours.
    I said that no one would ever invent
    such a preposterous name.
    And I said you can
    forget everything,
    but you never forget
    your name.
    Count Almsy.
    That name mean
    anything to you?
    Or Katharine Clifton?
    Oh, I'm sorry.
    - How much did you pay?
    - Oh, hello.
    They don't see foreign women
    in this market. How much did you pay?
    Um, 7, 8, I suppose.
    - Which store?
    - Why?
    You've been cheated.
    Oh, don't worry, we'll take it back.
    I don't want
    to take it back.
    - This is not worth 8.
    - It is to me.
    - Did you bargain?
    - I don't care to bargain.
    That insults them.
    I don't believe that. I think
    that you're insulted by me somehow.
    I'd be very happy to obtain
    the correct price for this.
    I apologize
    if I appear abrupt.
    I'm rusty at social graces.
    How do you find Cairo?
    - Did you visit the pyramids?
    - Excuse me.
    Or the Sphinx?
    Latitude, 25, 33.
    Longitude, 25, 16.
    We attempt to drive northeast of Kofer,
    we'll leave our bones in the desert.
    - I disagree.
    - You're Hungarian. You always disagree.
    - Good evening, gentlemen.
    - Good evening.
    - How is your charming wife?
    - Marvelous.
    She's in love
    with the hotel plumbing.
    She's either in the swimming pool.
    She swims for hours.
    She's a fish. It's quite incredible.
    Or she's in the bath.
    Actually, she's just outside.
    Chaps only
    in the Long Bar.
    Mrs. Clifton.
    You'll have to forgive us. We're not
    accustomed to the company of women.
    Not at all. I was thoroughly
    enjoying my book.
    - The team is in mourning, darling.
    - Oh, really?
    I'm afraid we're not having much luck
    obtaining funds for the expedition.
    Oh. Well, what'll you do?
    More modest expedition,
    or even wait a year.
    - It's a disaster.
    - Remind our families we still exist.
    Good heavens,
    are you married, Madox?
    Very much so.
    We all are.
    - Save my friend Almsy here.
    - I feel much better.
    Don't you, darling?
    We were feeling rather self-conscious.
    Let's toast, then.
    Absent wives.
    - Absent wives.
    - And present ones.
    And future ones.
    Thank you.
    Excuse me.
    May I?
    - Why did you follow me yesterday?
    - I'm sorry. What?
    After the market,
    you followed me to the hotel.
    I was concerned. A woman
    in that part of Cairo, a European woman.
    - I felt obliged to.
    - You felt obliged to?
    As the wife of
    one of our party.
    So why follow me?
    Escort me, by all means.
    But following me
    is predatory, isn't it?
    Could I ask you
    to move?
    I'm sorry, but I...
    I'm sorry.
    Of course.
    - It's just when you move.
    - How stupid of me.
    - I can't really bear the pressure...
    - Are you all right?
    I was dreaming.
    Awful.
    Hana.
    Hana, are you
    all right?
    Leave me alone.
    You're in love with him,
    aren't you?
    Your poor patient.
    You think he's a saint
    because of the way he looks.
    I don't think he is.
    I'm not so
    in love with him.
    I'm in love with ghosts.
    So is he.
    He's in love with ghosts.
    What if I told you
    he did this to me?
    How could he have?
    When?
    I'm one of his ghosts,
    and he wouldn't even know it.
    - I don't know what that means.
    - Ask your saint who he is.
    Ask him
    who he's killed.
    Please, don't creep
    around this house.
    See, I don't think
    he's forgotten anything!
    I think he wants to forget!
    Gentlemen, to mapmaking.
    To mapmaking!
    And a special thank you
    to Geoffrey and Katharine,
    without whose fund-raising heroics,
    we'd still be kicking our heels.
    - To arm-twisting.
    - Arm-twisting.
    Did Katharine say Geoffrey
    has to fly back to Cairo?
    Return the favor.
    Take a few photographs for the army.
    Oh, um, what kind
    of photographs?
    Portraits.
    The brigadier,
    the brigadier's wife,
    the brigadier's dog, brigadier
    by the pyramids, brigadier breathing.
    And I shall,
    of course, be bereft.
    I'll finally be able to
    explore the Cairo nightlife.
    I shall produce an authoritative guide
    to the zinc bars and...
    I want to say hareems. Are we
    in the right country for hareems?
    Harems.
    - Bye, my love.
    - Travel safe.
    Catch up
    in a week.
    Clifton, safe journey.
    You too. Good luck.
    Glad the funds have turned up.
    Clifton.
    This is probably
    none of my business.
    Your wife.
    - Think it's appropriate to leave her?
    - Appropriate?
    Well, the desert is, it's, uh...
    for a woman, it's very tough.
    I wonder if it's
    not too much for her.
    Are you mad? Katharine loves it here.
    She told me yesterday.
    - All the same, were I you...
    - I've known Katharine
    since she was three.
    We were practically brother and sister
    before we were man and wife.
    I think I'd know what is and what isn't
    too much for her.
    I think
    she'd know herself.
    Very well.
    Why are you people
    so threatened by a woman?
    I have come to love...
    that little tap of the
    fingernail against the syringe.
    Tap.
    Tap.
    Tap.
    Stop playing! Please, stop playing.
    I don't have the key
    to that door. You...
    The Germans were here.
    The Germans were all over this area.
    They left mines
    everywhere.
    And pianos were their
    favorite hiding places.
    I see.
    Sorry.
    Then maybe you're safe
    as long as you only play Bach.
    He's German.
    Is something funny?
    No. I'm sorry.
    I've met you before.
    I don't think so.
    Look. See?
    Move that,
    and no more Bach.
    Lieutenant!
    Are you all right, sir?
    Fine, Sergeant.
    So you're working
    with the Italians.
    Yeah, trying to get them
    to give up their weapons.
    I was a thief, so the army
    thought I'd be good at it.
    I like the Italians.
    He wants us to move out.
    He says there could be
    He thinks I'm mad
    because I laugh at him.
    He's Indian.
    - He wears a turban.
    - No, he's Sikh.
    If he wears a turban,
    he's Sikh.
    I'll probably marry him.
    Really?
    That's sudden.
    My mother
    always told me...
    I would summon my husband
    by playing the piano.
    - I liked it better when
    there were just the two of us.
    - Why? Is he staying?
    With his sergeant,
    a Mr. Hardy.
    We should charge.
    Doesn't anyone have a job to do?
    They have to clear all the roads
    of mines. That's a big job.
    In that case, I...
    I suppose we can't charge.
    No, we can't.
    Thank you.
    I've been thinking. How does someone
    like you decide to come to the desert?
    What is it? You...
    You're doing whatever you're doing in
    your castle, or wherever it is you live,
    and one day you say,
    "I have to get to the desert," or what?
    I once traveled with a guide
    who was taking me to Faya.
    He didn't speak
    for nine hours.
    At the end of it, he pointed
    at the horizon and said, "Faya."
    That was a good day.
    Actually, you sing.
    - What?
    - You sing.
    All the time.
    - I do not.
    - Ask Al Auf.
    Al Auf!
    Give me your hand.
    Thanks.
    Madox!
    Madox!
    Madox!
    - Come quickly! I've found something!
    - What is it?
    D'Ag! Bermann!
    Quick!
    My God.
    They're swimming.
    They're swimming.
    Ow!
    - You okay?
    - Yeah.
    How do you explain...
    to someone who has
    never been here,
    feelings which seem
    quite normal?
    I don't know,
    my friend.
    I don't know.
    - Aaah!
    - Kamal!
    Bermann,
    what are you doing?
    Bermann!
    Watch out!
    Watch out!
    - Get them out of the car!
    - Let me help!
    Almsy,
    are you all right?
    Yes, yes,
    I'm fine.
    My wrist!
    Ah!
    I'll be back as quick as I can,
    Try to get
    an additional radiator.
    We can store it between here
    and Pottery Hill. And a better jack.
    - We planned badly.
    - Bermann?
    Safe journey.
    Now what?
    Let's get all
    this stuff off.
    - I'll stay behind, of course.
    - Certainly not.
    - I caused the problem. I shall stay.
    - You can't. None of you can.
    No, I insist. There clearly
    isn't room for all of us.
    I'm the least able to dig, and I'm not
    one of the walking wounded.
    It's only one night.
    If I remain, it's the most effective
    method of persuading my husband...
    to abandon whatever he's doing
    and come and rescue us.
    - All right.
    - Come on, let's get going.
    I thought you might like to
    paste them into your book.
    Well, we...
    We took
    photographs.
    There's no need.
    No, really.
    I'd like you to have them.
    Well, there's really no need.
    This is, um...
    This is just a scrapbook.
    They are too good.
    I should feel obliged.
    Thank you.
    And that would be unconscionable,
    I suppose, wouldn't it?
    To feel any obligation.
    Yes, of course it would.
    You should come
    into the shelter.
    I'm quite all right,
    thank you.
    - Look over there.
    - What am I looking at?
    Do you see what's happening to them,
    the stars?
    - They're so untidy.
    I was trying to rearrange them.
    - No, no.
    Over there.
    In a few minutes,
    there'll be no stars.
    The air
    is filling with sand.
    - This is not very good, is it?
    - No.
    - Will we be all right?
    - Yes.
    Yes.
    Absolutely.
    "Yes" is a comfort.
    "Absolutely" is not.
    Let me tell you
    about winds.
    There is a, a whirlwind
    from southern Morocco,
    the Aajej,
    against which the Fellahin
    defend themselves with knives.
    And there is a,
    a Ghibli from Tunis.
    - A Ghibli?
    - A Ghibli.
    Which rolls and rolls
    and rolls and produces a...
    a rather strange nervous condition.
    And then there is the,
    the Harmatten,
    a red wind, which mariners call
    "the sea of darkness."
    And red sand
    from this wind...
    has flown as far as
    the south coast of England,
    apparently producing...
    showers so dense that they were
    mistaken for blood.
    Fiction!
    We have a house on that coast
    and it has never, never rained blood.
    No, it's all true.
    Herodotus, your friend.
    - My friend.
    - Your fri...
    He writes about it...
    and he writes about...
    a, a wind, the Simoon,
    which a nation thought
    was so evil,
    they declared war on it
    and marched out against it.
    In full battle dress.
    Their swords raised.
    Katharine, Katharine, I need
    to get out your side, quickly.
    A car!
    Let me out!
    Of course.
    I'm sorry.
    Ridiculous
    to fall asleep!
    Unforgivable!
    Damn!
    The flare!
    Stop!
    Over here!
    - Here!
    Stop!
    Madox!
    Madox! Madox!
    Our tracks
    have disappeared.
    Madox will calculate how many miles.
    He'll soon turn around.
    Could I ask you,
    please, to...
    paste your paintings
    into my book.
    I... I should like
    to have them.
    I should be honored.
    The others!
    - Oh, God.
    - Quick!
    Oh, how awful!
    We've got to get them out.
    Quick!
    Get the other shovel!
    Am I a terrible coward
    to ask how much water we have left?
    A little in our can. We have, uh, water
    in the radiator, which can be drunk.
    And, uh, that's not cowardly at all.
    It's extremely practical.
    We, uh... Oh, come on!
    Come on!
    There's also a plant.
    I've never seen it,
    but I believe you can cut a piece
    the size of a heart from this plant,
    and the next morning it'll be filled
    with a delicious liquid.
    Find that plant,
    cut out its heart.
    Here.
    Here's the window.
    Clear the glass. I'll clear the door.
    Mind your hands.
    It's okay. We're here.
    Come on,
    clear it quickly.
    Hang on.
    Coming.
    - I've got it. I've got it.
    - Help them out. Here.
    Katharine.
    Water.
    Geoffrey's not in Cairo.
    He's not actually
    a buffoon.
    The plane wasn't
    a wedding present.
    It belongs
    to the British government.
    They want aerial maps
    of the whole of North Africa.
    So I think
    he's in Ethiopia.
    In case you're counting
    on his sudden appearance.
    And the marriage.
    Is that a fiction?
    No, the marriage
    isn't a fiction.
    Oh, thank God.
    Thank God.
    Madox.
    It's Madox.
    Am I K. In your book?
    I think I must be.
    Chapter one.
    "He sat in defiance of municipal orders
    astride the gun Zamzammah..."
    I can't read these words. I can't
    read them. They stick in my throat.
    Because you're
    reading it too fast.
    - Not at all.
    - You have to read Kipling slowly.
    Your eye is too impatient.
    Think about the speed of his pen.
    What is it?
    "He sat, comma,
    "in defiance of
    municipal orders, comma,
    "astride the gun
    Zamzammah...
    on her brick..."
    What is it?
    "Brick platform, opposite the old
    Ajaib-Gher."
    "The wonder house, comma,
    as the natives called
    the Lahore Museum."
    It's still there, the cannon,
    outside the museum.
    Made of metal cups and bowls taken
    from every household in the city as tax,
    then melted down.
    Then later, they fired
    the cannon at my people,
    comma,
    the natives.
    Full stop.
    What exactly
    is it you object to?
    The writer,
    or what he's writing about?
    What I really
    object to, Uncle,
    is your finishing
    all my condensed milk.
    And the message everywhere in your book,
    however slowly I read it,
    that the best thing for India
    is to be ruled by the British.
    Hana, we have discovered
    a shared pleasure, the boy and I.
    - Arguing about books?
    - Condensed milk.
    One of the truly
    great inventions.
    I'll get
    another tin.
    I didn't like that book either.
    It's all about men.
    Too many men.
    Just like this house.
    You like him, don't you?
    Your voice changes.
    No, I don't
    think it does.
    Anyway,
    he's indifferent to me.
    I don't think
    it's indifference.
    - Hana was just telling me,
    you're indifferent...
    - Hey!
    To her cooking.
    Well, I'm indifferent
    to cooking.
    Not Hana's cooking
    in particular.
    Have either of you tried
    condensed milk sandwiches?
    They're very good
    with salt.
    Welcome back, Madam.
    Will you not come in?
    No.
    - I should go home.
    - Will you please come in?
    Mrs. Clifton.
    Don't.
    I believe
    you still have my book.
    Thank you.
    You still have
    sand in your hair.
    I'm impressed
    you can sew.
    Good.
    You sew very badly.
    Well, you don't
    sew at all.
    A woman should
    never learn to sew,
    and if she can,
    she shouldn't admit to it.
    Close your eyes.
    It makes it harder still.
    Hmm.
    When were you
    most happy?
    Now.
    And when were you
    least happy?
    Now.
    - What do you love?
    - What do I love?
    - Say everything.
    - Let's see.
    - Water.
    - Mm-hmm.
    Fish in it.
    And hedgehogs.
    I love hedgehogs.
    And what else?
    Marmite.
    I'm addicted.
    And baths.
    But not with other people.
    Islands.
    And your handwriting.
    - Mmm.
    - I could go on all day.
    Go on all day.
    My husband.
    And what do you
    hate most?
    A lie.
    What do you
    hate most?
    Ownership.
    Being owned.
    When you leave,
    you should forget me.
    - Who is this?
    - Don't you recognize me?
    Is it you? So fat.
    - Hmm.
    - That's a Christmas cracker.
    Firecracker.
    - This isn't your handwriting, is it?
    - Yes, it is.
    "December 22nd.
    "Betrayals in war
    are childlike...
    "compared with our
    betrayals during peace.
    "New lovers are nervous
    and tender...
    "but smash everything.
    For the heart
    is an organ of fire. "
    "For the heart
    is an organ of fire."
    I love that.
    I believe that.
    K?
    - Who is K?
    - K...
    is for Katharine.
    Merry Christmas!
    Merry Christmas!
    - Say you're sick.
    - What? No.
    Say you're feeling faint.
    The heat.
    - No.
    - I can't work.
    - I can't sleep.
    - Katharine.
    Coming.
    I can't sleep. I wake up shouting
    in the middle of the night.
    - Geoffrey thinks it's the
    thing in the desert, trauma.
    - I can still taste you.
    - Fill up this. It's empty.
    - Oh.
    I try to write,
    with your taste in my mouth.
    Swoon.
    They'll catch you.
    Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!
    - Come along with me now!
    - Merry Christmas, everyone!
    Merry Christmas!
    - Katharine! Oh, my goodness!
    - Oh.
    Fetch a chair.
    No, I'm fine.
    - It's this heat. It's terrible.
    - Is she all right?
    - She's quite all right.
    - Oh, good.
    - Are you pregnant?
    - Oh, I don't think so, no.
    How romantic.
    With Fiona, I fell over
    every five minutes.
    Ronnie christened me
    "Lady Downfall."
    Do you know, I think I might go inside
    and sit down for a few minutes.
    - I'll come with you.
    - No, I'll be all right. You stay here.
    Are you sure?
    Happy Christmas!
    - Have you seen Katharine?
    - What?
    - It's Clifton under here.
    - Oh.
    No, I haven't. Sorry.
    Darling,
    I just heard.
    You poor sausage.
    Are you all right?
    I'm fine.
    I'm just too hot.
    Lady H thought you
    might be pregnant.
    I'm not pregnant. I'm just hot.
    Too hot, like you.
    I'm sweltering,
    in fact.
    Come on,
    I'll take you home.
    Can we really go home?
    I can't breathe.
    I am dying for green.
    Anything green, or rain.
    It's Christmas and it's all...
    Oh, I don't know.
    If you asked me, I'd go home tomorrow.
    If you wanted.
    Darling, you know we can't go home.
    There might be a war.
    Oh, Geoffrey,
    you do so love a disguise.
    I do so love you.
    Mmm.
    - What do you smell of?
    - What?
    Marzipan. I think you've
    got marzipan in your hair.
    No wonder
    you're homesick.
    Is it you?
    What?
    If I said "Moose"...
    Moose?
    Who the hell's Moose?
    I look different.
    Why shouldn't you?
    I heard your breathing.
    I thought it was the rain.
    I'm dying for rain.
    Well, I'm dying anyway,
    but I...
    I long for
    the rain on my face.
    First wedding anniversary,
    what do you call it?
    Ha, I don't know.
    Paper?
    Is it?
    I don't know.
    Paper.
    Paper?
    Darling, it's me.
    Listen, I'm sorry, something's come up.
    - Oh, no.
    - Now don't sulk.
    I'll be back tomorrow evening.
    I'm going to sulk, and I'm not moving
    till you get back here.
    Promise?
    That's good.
    Okay, my sausage,
    I love you.
    - I didn't know you were going anywhere.
    - I'm not.
    I'm going to surprise her. It's our
    anniversary. She's forgotten, of course.
    What's the symbol of your first
    anniversary? I should get something.
    Is it cotton or paper?
    Your first anniversary? I thought you
    two'd been married for donkey's years.
    We've been friends for donkey's years.
    Best friends.
    She was always crying on
    my shoulder about somebody.
    I finally persuaded her to settle
    for my shoulder. A stroke of genius.
    - Moose, are you there?
    - Yes.
    - First anniversary. Is that cotton?
    - Uh, is what cotton?
    First wedding anniversary.
    Your first anniversary
    is... paper.
    - Stop.
    - Please?
    S... Stop here.
    - Here?
    - Just stop right here.
    Yes, sir.
    This...
    What is this?
    It's a folk song.
    - Arabic.
    - No, no, it's Hungarian.
    My daijka sang it to me.
    When I was a child
    growing up in Budapest.
    It's beautiful.
    Hmm.
    What's it about?
    Szerelem means love.
    And the story...
    Well, there's, um,
    this Hungarian count.
    He's a wanderer.
    He's a fool.
    And for years he's on
    some kind of a quest for...
    who knows what.
    And then one day, he falls under
    the spell of a mysterious English woman,
    a harpy, who beats him
    and hits him.
    And he becomes her slave
    and he sews her clothes and worships...
    Stop!
    Stop it!
    Stop! You're always
    beating me.
    Bastard.
    You bastard!
    I believed you!
    You should be
    my slave.
    I claim this
    shoulder blade...
    No, wait. No, I want...
    Turn over.
    I want this, this...
    this place.
    I love this place.
    What's it called?
    This is mine.
    I'm going to ask the king permission
    to call it the Almsy Bosphorus.
    I thought we were
    against ownership.
    I can stay tonight.
    Madox knows,
    I think.
    He keeps talking about
    Anna Karenina.
    I think it's his idea
    of a man-to-man chat.
    Well, it's my idea
    of a man-to-man chat.
    This is a different world,
    is what I tell myself.
    A different life.
    And here
    I'm a different wife.
    Yes.
    Here you are
    a different wife.
    Oh, they're darling.
    What are they? Thimbles?
    Yes, and they're
    quite old.
    It's full of saffron.
    Just in case you think
    I'm going to give it to you
    to encourage your sewing.
    I don't care
    to bargain.
    That day, did you follow me
    to the market?
    Yes, of course.
    Shall we be
    all right?
    Yes.
    Yes.
    Absolutely.
    Oh, dear.
    - Thought you'd never wake up.
    - What?
    - Where did you find that?
    - I liberated it.
    - I think that's called looting.
    - No one should own music.
    The real question is:
    - Who wrote the song?
    - Irving Berlin.
    - For?
    - Top Hat.
    Is there a song
    you don't know?
    Nope.
    He sings all the time.
    Good morning. Did you know that?
    You're always singing.
    I've been told before.
    Kip's another one.
    "Wang Wang Blues."
    You're incredible.
    - Good mornin', Miss.
    - Hello.
    You saved my life.
    I haven't forgotten.
    I thought you were
    very, very tall.
    You seemed so big
    and... giant.
    I felt like a child
    who can't keep her balance.
    - A toddler.
    - A toddler.
    My hair was long
    at some point.
    I've forgotten what
    a nuisance it is to wash.
    Try this. I found
    a great jar of it.
    Olive oil.
    Thank you.
    Is this for my hair?
    Yes, for your hair.
    There was a general
    who wore a patch...
    over a perfectly
    good eye.
    The men fought
    harder for him.
    Sometimes I think
    I could get up and dance.
    What's under
    your mittens?
    What's under
    your mittens?
    He's waiting for you.
    I'll see you
    tonight?
    Look, Moose, we need you
    to stay in Tobruk.
    I know it's a bit of a short straw,
    but Jerry's got our maps, you know.
    And now they're getting
    their spies into Cairo using our maps.
    They'll get Rommel into Cairo
    using our maps.
    The whole of the desert's like a bloody
    bus route, and we gave it to 'em!
    Any foreigner
    who turned up:
    "Welcome to the Royal Geographic.
    Take our maps."
    Old Madox went mad,
    you know.
    - Did you know Peter Madox?
    - Yeah.
    Magnificent explorer.
    Thanks, Aicha.
    And after he found out
    he'd been betrayed by Almsy.
    His best friend.
    Absolutely destroyed
    the poor sot.
    Hey, Commandant,
    stay in line!
    - Jah.
    Hello, little Tommy.
    Little baby, hello.
    - Recognize him? British friend?
    - No.
    Aaah!
    - Get up!
    - No!
    Get up at once!
    No, I don't have a boyfriend.
    I don't know anybody!
    Halt!
    No! No!
    David Caravaggio.
    - No.
    - This was taken in Cairo
    at British headquarters.
    July '41.
    And so was this.
    August '41.
    And this.
    February '42.
    It's possible.
    I was buying or selling something.
    I've been to Cairo many times.
    You are a Canadian spy
    working for the Allies.
    Code name: Moose.
    Jah?
    Can you get me a doctor?
    I'm sick.
    - I'm leaking blood!
    You want a doctor?
    I've been askin'
    for weeks, months...
    We don't have a doctor.
    But we do have a nurse.
    Sure, great.
    A nurse would be great.
    Look, give me something.
    A name, a code.
    So we can all
    get out of this room.
    I can't think
    in this heat.
    - It's too hot.
    - I slept with a girl.
    I've got a wife
    in Tripoli.
    A girl comes up and points
    at you, you only see trouble.
    Fire!
    I'll tell you what
    I'm going to do.
    This is your nurse,
    by the way.
    She's Muslim, so she'll understand
    all of this.
    What's the punishment for adultery?
    Let's leave it at that.
    You're married and you were
    fucking another woman, so that's, uh...
    Is it the hands that are cut off?
    Or is that for stealing?
    Does anyone know?
    Well, you must know.
    You were brought up in Libya, yes?
    - Don't cut me.
    - Or was it Toronto?
    Ten fingers.
    How about this?
    You give me a name for every finger.
    It doesn't matter who.
    I get something,
    you keep something.
    - I'm trying to be reasonable.
    - Don't cut me. Come on!
    Are thumbs fingers?
    - I get no help from these people.
    - Telephone.
    I'm sick of this room, I'm sick of
    this heat and I'm sick of this phone!
    - Ah! The Geneva Convention!
    Hey, come on!
    You can't do that!
    - Come over here.
    - I'll give you names.
    - You!
    - I'll give you names!
    - Come on!
    - What names did you say?
    Aaah! Aaah! Let me think!
    Just let me think!
    I can't think! I know them!
    Please, let me think!
    I promise!
    Oh, please, please, no!
    - What name did you say? I knew them!
    - Come on!
    - I can't think of any names!
    Not my hands! Oh, dear God!
    - What are you waiting for?
    Jesus Christ!
    Jesus Christ, no!
    I promise!
    Oh, please, not my hands!
    No! Jesus!
    Jesus! Oh, dear God!
    - Please don't cut me!
    - Come on!
    Aaah!
    No!
    Please don't cut!
    Don't!
    The man who took my thumbs?
    I found him eventually.
    I killed him.
    The man who took my photograph?
    I found him too.
    That took me a year.
    He's dead.
    Another man
    showed the Germans...
    a way to get
    their spies into Cairo.
    I've been
    looking for him.
    You can't get through there.
    It's impossible.
    I was looking again
    at Bell's old maps.
    If we can find a way
    through the Wadi,
    we can drive
    straight into Cairo.
    - This whole spur is a real possibility.
    - So on Thursday,
    you don't trust Bell's map, Bell was
    a fool, Bell couldn't draw a map.
    But on Friday,
    he's suddenly infallible.
    - And where are the expedition maps?
    - In my room.
    Those maps belong to
    His Majesty's Government.
    They shouldn't be left lying around for
    any Tom, Dick or Harry to have sight of.
    What on earth's
    the matter with you?
    Don't be so bloody naive!
    You know there's a war breaking out!
    This arrived this morning.
    "By order of
    the British Government,
    all international expeditions
    to be aborted by May, 1939."
    What do they care
    about our maps?
    What do we find
    in the desert?
    Arrowheads,
    spears.
    In a war, if you own the desert,
    you own North Africa.
    Own the desert?
    Ha!
    Um, Madox?
    That place...
    That place at the base
    of a woman's throat.
    You know,
    the hollow here.
    Does it have
    an official name?
    For God's sake, man,
    pull yourself together.
    Nowhere is there any
    wild patriotic excitement,
    but everywhere there is
    a deep hatred of war.
    The answer lies
    with one man,
    and the solid mass of the crowd
    surging round his car...
    are a symbol that the British people are
    more firmly of one mind today...
    than at any other time
    in our history.
    There's a great to-do
    in Sandown Bay,
    with rowing and sailing, and
    no end of sport for every water baby.
    Sorry.
    I can't...
    I can't do this.
    I can't do this.
    I can't do this anymore.
    I'd better go now.
    Say goodbye here.
    I'm not agreeing. Don't think
    I'm agreeing, because I'm not.
    Any minute now,
    he'll find out.
    We'll barge into someone.
    It'll kill him.
    Don't go over it again,
    please.
    Katharine?
    I...
    I just want you
    to know I'm...
    I'm not missing you yet.
    You will.
    You will.
    I believe I'm rather late.
    Good.
    We're all here.
    A toast to the
    International Sand Club.
    May it soon resurface.
    The International Sand Club.
    The International Sand Club:
    Misfits, buggers, fascists and fools.
    God bless us, every one.
    Oops!
    Mustn't say "International."
    Dirty word, filthy word.
    His Majesty, die Fuhrer,
    il duce...
    Sorry.
    What's your point?
    And the people here don't want us.
    You must be joking.
    Egyptians are desperate to get rid of
    the colonials. Isn't that right, Fouad?
    Some of their best people
    getting down on their hands and knees,
    begging to be spared
    the Knighthood.
    Isn't that right? Hmm?
    Isn't that right, Sir Ronnie?
    What's my point?
    Oh, I've invented a new dance.
    Anybody up for it?
    It's called...
    It's called
    the Bosphorus Hug.
    Madox?
    Bermann?
    You'll dance with me? Hmm?
    D'Ag.
    Come on, Daggers.
    Let's eat first.
    Sit down.
    They're playing it far too slowly,
    but these were the words,
    actually, before
    they were cleaned up.
    Might be a song for you,
    Mrs. Clif...
    You either shut up
    or go home! You're completely blasted!
    - Sit down!
    - Absolutely right! Shut up! Shut up!
    Sorry. Sorry.
    I'm so sorry.
    I can't think
    what came over me.
    Lashings of apologies...
    all around.
    Thank you.
    - Why were you holding his collar?
    - What?
    "What"? That boy.
    That little boy.
    You were holding his collar.
    You were gripping his collar. What for?
    Hmm?
    Is he next?
    Are you going to drag him
    into your little room? Where is it?
    Is this it?
    - Don't do this.
    - I've watched you.
    I've watched you
    at garden parties,
    on verandas,
    at the races.
    - How can you... stand there?
    - Please.
    How can you
    ever smile,
    as if your life
    hadn't capsized?
    You know why?
    Dance with me.
    No.
    Dance with me.
    I want to touch you.
    I want the things which are mine,
    which belong to me.
    Do you think you're the
    only one who feels anything?
    Is that what
    you think?
    Why don't you go?
    - Get some sleep.
    - Would you like me to?
    Good night.
    Hana.
    Kip.
    Just wait.
    Don't look at anything yet.
    Wait.
    Kip!
    Oh, thank you!
    Mmm!
    If one night I didn't come
    to see you,
    what would you do?
    I try not
    to expect you.
    Yes, but if it
    got late and...
    I hadn't shown up?
    Then I'd think
    there must be a reason.
    You wouldn't come
    to find me?
    Hmm. That makes me
    never want to come here.
    Then I'd tell myself,
    he spends all day
    searching.
    In the night,
    he wants to be found.
    I do. I do want you
    to find me.
    I do want
    to be found.
    I was looking for
    Lieutenant Singh.
    - He's sleeping.
    - Only we've got to go to work.
    I'll tell him.
    What is it?
    Is it a mine?
    It's a bomb
    by a viaduct.
    - Does he have to go?
    - Beg pardon?
    What if you couldn't find him?
    Sergeant, not today. Not this morning.
    - What's happening? Am I needed?
    - Afraid so, sir.
    Don't go.
    I'm frightened.
    This is what I do.
    I do this
    every day.
    Hardy!
    Serial number
    K-K-I-P...
    K-K-I-P2600, sir!
    I'll get the oxygen.
    Hardy, what's happening?
    Can't see, sir!
    It's from the road!
    Corporal?
    Tanks, sir!
    I don't know what it's about!
    - Stop 'em!
    - Stop!
    Stop!
    - Hardy!
    - Stop! Stop!
    What is this,
    a bloody carnival?
    The fuse has snapped!
    - What's happened? Is it armed?
    Hang on a second.
    I'll be right with you.
    Can you see
    the detonator, sir?
    You've got to cut it, sir.
    That frost won't last.
    Stop! Stop!
    Slow down!
    Stop! Stop!
    Slow down!
    - Go away!
    - Yes, sir.
    - This is making me incredibly angry.
    - I know, sir.
    Watch out!
    That'll burn!
    Ow!
    Can you feel 'em?
    Cut it, sir.
    - You've gotta cut it!
    - I don't even know if
    this is the right wire.
    Choose. Just choose a loop
    and cut it.
    Get a blanket! Spaulding, get a blanket
    for Lieutenant!
    Sarge! Sarge!
    It's over, sir! It's over!
    - Jerry's surrendered!
    - Yeah-ha!
    Sir, congratulations.
    Kip? Kip?
    Kip!
    Hey, we're goin' home!
    It's raining.
    Kip, come and
    dance with us.
    - Later.
    - Oh, come on.
    Clap now.
    Yeah.
    Come on, Sarge!
    Let's raise that flag!
    Hardy's coming!
    Here comes the bomb squad!
    Hey, where's my helmet?
    Go on,
    Sergeant Hardy!
    Bring 'em home!
    Hardy! Hardy! Hardy!
    What was that?
    I'm never going
    to forgive myself.
    I'm never going
    to bloody forgive myself.
    Sergeant Hardy, sir.
    It was booby-trapped.
    They was runnin' up the Union Jack, sir,
    up on that statue.
    It just went off, sir.
    Sergeant Hardy climbed up,
    Sir, just for a lark, sir.
    It should've been me.
    It was my idea.
    - Sir, you don't wanna look.
    - Ooh.
    Who's that girl?
    His fiance, sir.
    - Hardy's?
    - He kept it a bit dark.
    Kip?
    Kip, it's me.
    I'm so sorry about
    what happened.
    Can I talk to you?
    Kip?
    Kip, why won't
    you talk to me?
    Oh, Kip.
    Oh, let me come in!
    Hana tells me you're leaving.
    There's going to be trials.
    They want me to interpret.
    Don't they know
    I'm allergic to courtrooms?
    So...
    I come across
    the hospital convoy.
    They're looking
    for this stuff.
    This nurse, Mary,
    tells me about
    you and Hana...
    hiding in some
    monastery in...
    What do you call it?
    Retreat?
    How you came
    out of the desert...
    and you were burned
    and you didn't remember your name,
    but you knew the words
    to every song that ever was...
    and you had one possession:
    A copy of Herodotus.
    And it was filled...
    with letters and cuttings.
    Then I knew it was you.
    Me?
    I saw you...
    writing in that book
    at the embassy in Cairo...
    when I had thumbs
    and you had a face...
    and a name.
    I see.
    Before you went
    over to the Germans,
    before you found a way to get
    Rommel's spy across the desert
    and inside British headquarters.
    He took some
    pretty good photographs.
    I saw mine in that
    torture room in Tobruk.
    So, it made an impression.
    I had to get back to the desert.
    I'd made a promise.
    The rest meant
    nothing to me.
    What did you say?
    That the rest...
    meant nothing to me.
    There was a result
    to what you did.
    It wasn't just another expedition.
    It did this.
    If the British hadn't
    unearthed that photographer,
    thousands of people
    could have died.
    Thousands of people did die.
    Just different people.
    - Yes, like Madox.
    - What?
    You know he shot himself,
    your partner,
    - when he found out you were a spy.
    - What?
    Madox thought
    I was a spy? No.
    No, I was never a spy.
    It's ghastly.
    It's like a witch hunt.
    Anybody remotely foreign
    is suddenly a spy.
    - So watch out.
    - Right.
    We didn't care about
    countries, did we?
    Brits, Arabs,
    Hungarians, Germans...
    None of that mattered, did it?
    It was something finer than that.
    Yes, it was.
    I'll leave the plane
    in Kufra oasis.
    - So, if you need it...
    - Right.
    Hard to know
    how long one's talking about.
    We might all be back
    in a month or two.
    Hmm.
    I have to teach myself not to
    read too much into everything.
    It comes of too long having to read
    so much into hardly anything at all.
    Good-bye, my friend.
    There is no God.
    But I hope someone
    looks after you.
    In case you're
    still wondering,
    this is called
    a suprasternal notch.
    Come and visit us in Dorset
    when all this nonsense is over.
    You'll never come
    to Dorset.
    So, you didn't know
    Madox shot himself.
    No.
    And you didn't kill
    the Cliftons?
    Sh...
    She...
    She die...
    She...
    I can't.
    Well,
    maybe I did.
    Maybe I did.
    I was packing up
    our base camp...
    at the Cave of Swimmers.
    Clifton had offered to fly down
    from Cairo to collect me.
    He flew like
    a madman always,
    so I...
    I took no notice.
    Aaah!
    Katharine?
    Dear God, Katharine,
    what are you doing here?
    I can't get out.
    I can't move.
    "Surprise,"
    he said.
    Poor Geoffrey.
    He knew. He must've
    known all the time.
    He was shouting, "I love you, Katharine.
    I love you so much."
    Is he badly hurt?
    I have to
    get you out.
    - Please don't move me.
    - I have to get you out.
    - It hurts too much.
    - I know, darling, I know. I'm sorry.
    Come on.
    Now!
    Why did you hate me?
    What?
    Don't you know
    you drove everybody mad?
    Shh.
    Don't talk.
    You speak so many
    bloody languages...
    and you never
    want to talk.
    - You're wearing the thimble.
    - Of course.
    You idiot.
    I always wear it.
    I've always worn it.
    I've always loved you.
    It's so cold.
    I know.
    I'm sorry.
    I'll make a fire.
    Did you get Geoffrey
    out of the plane?
    - Yes, I did.
    - Good. That's good. Thank you.
    Listen to me,
    Katharine.
    You've broken
    your ankle...
    and I'm going to have
    to try and bind it.
    I think you've also
    broken your wrist...
    and maybe some ribs, which is why
    it's hurting you to breathe.
    I'm going to have to
    walk to El Taj.
    Although, given all the traffic
    in the desert these days,
    I'm bound to bump into
    one army or another.
    And then I'll come back
    and you'll be fine.
    You promise?
    I wouldn't want
    to die here.
    I don't want to die
    in the desert.
    I've always had a rather
    elaborate funeral in mind.
    Particular hymns.
    And I know exactly
    where I want to be buried.
    In our garden,
    where I grew up...
    with a view of the sea.
    So promise me
    you'll come back for me.
    I promise...
    I'll come back for you.
    I promise...
    I'll never leave you.
    You have plenty
    of water...
    and, um, food.
    I'll open them
    for you.
    A good read.
    Don't waste this.
    Will you bury Geoffrey?
    I know he's dead.
    I'm sorry, Katharine.
    I know.
    Every night...
    I cut out my heart.
    But in the morning
    it was full again.
    Darling.
    My darling.
    I stopped at noon
    and at twilight.
    Three days there on foot,
    I told her,
    and three hours
    back by car.
    Don't go anywhere.
    I'll be back.
    I'll be back.
    Just walked in
    from the desert, sir.
    Morning.
    Dear golly, where have
    you come from then?
    There's been an accident.
    I need a doctor...
    to come with me,
    and I need to borrow this car.
    I'll pay,
    of course.
    - And I need... I need morphine.
    - May I see your papers, sir?
    What?
    If I could just see
    some form of identification.
    I'm sorry, I'm not making sense.
    Forgive me, I... I'm not...
    I've been walking and...
    A woman is badly injured
    at the Gilf Kabir, the Cave of Swimmers.
    I'm a member of the
    Royal Geographical Society.
    Right.
    Now, if I could...
    just take your name.
    Count Laszlo de Almsy.
    "Almsy." Would you mind
    spelling that for me?
    - Look, listen to me, will you?
    - What nationality would that be?
    A woman is dying.
    My wife is dying.
    I have been... walking...
    I have been walking
    for three days.
    I do not want
    to spell my name.
    - I want you to give me this car.
    - I understand you're agitated.
    Perhaps if you'd like to sit down,
    I can radio back to H.Q.
    No. No, don't...
    Don't radio anybody!
    Just give me
    the fucking car!
    Stop the car, please.
    A woman is dying!
    Listen, Fritz, if I have to listen
    to another word from you,
    I'm going to give you
    a fucking good hiding!
    Fritz? What are you
    talking about, Fritz?
    Well, that's your name,
    isn't it?
    Count Fuckin' Asshole
    Von Bismarck!
    - What's that supposed to be, Irish?
    - Please!
    You have to listen!
    Katharine!
    Katharine!
    Excuse me.
    - I also need to use the lavatory.
    - You'll have to wait.
    - It's urgent.
    - Sarge!
    Sarge, Jerry wants
    to use the lav.
    Says it's urgent.
    - Where are we going, please?
    - Oh, up north to the coast.
    Benghazi.
    Soon be there.
    You can get your boat
    back home then.
    All right, go on then.
    Here, you take him.
    I've been up and down
    this bloody train all day.
    It doesn't open.
    Aaah!
    So yes,
    she died because of me.
    Because I loved her.
    Because I...
    Because I had
    the wrong name.
    - And you never got back to the cave?
    - I did get back.
    I kept my promise.
    I was assisted
    by the Germans.
    There was a...
    a trade.
    I had our expedition maps.
    And after the British
    made me their enemy,
    I gave their enemy
    our maps.
    So I got back
    to the desert...
    and to Katharine...
    in Madox's English plane...
    with German gasoline.
    When I arrived
    in Italy,
    on my medical chart
    they wrote,
    "English Patient."
    Isn't that funny?
    After all that,
    I became English.
    You get to the morning and the
    poison leaks away, doesn't it?
    Black nights.
    - I thought I would kill you.
    - You can't kill me.
    I died years ago.
    No, I can't
    kill you now.
    We've been posted.
    North of Florence.
    I was thinking yesterday...
    yesterday...
    The patient and Hardy.
    They're everything
    that's good about England.
    I couldn't even say
    what that was.
    We didn't exchange
    two personal words,
    and we've been together
    through some terrible things.
    Some terrible things.
    He was engaged
    to a girl in the village.
    I mean...
    And us,
    he never once...
    He didn't ask me if I could spin
    the ball at cricket or Kamasutra or...
    I don't even know
    what I'm talking about.
    You loved him.
    Katharine.
    I'm still here.
    You'd better be.
    Don't depend on it,
    will you?
    That little bit of air
    in my lungs,
    each day
    it gets less and less.
    Which is all right.
    It's quite all right.
    I've been speaking
    to Caravaggio,
    my research assistant.
    He tells me there's a ghost
    in the cloisters.
    I can join him.
    - Hana!
    - It's the boy.
    I'll always
    go back to that church.
    Look at my paintings.
    I'll always
    go back to that church.
    So one day we'll meet.
    Thank you.
    Read to me,
    will you?
    Read me to sleep.
    "My darling,
    "I'm waiting for you.
    "How long is a day
    in the dark?
    "Or a week?
    "The fire is gone now...
    and I'm horr...
    horribly cold."
    I really ought
    to drag myself outside,
    but then
    there'd be the sun.
    I'm afraid
    I waste the light...
    on the paintings
    and on writing these words.
    We die.
    "We die.
    "We die rich with
    lovers and tribes,
    "tastes we have swallowed,
    "bodies we have entered...
    and swum up like rivers."
    Fears we've hidden in,
    like this wretched cave.
    I want all this
    marked on my body.
    We're the real countries.
    Not the boundaries
    drawn on maps,
    the names of powerful men.
    I know you'll come and carry me
    out into the palace of winds.
    That's all I've wanted,
    to walk in such
    a place with you,
    with friends.
    An Earth without maps.
    "The lamp's gone out,
    "and I'm writing...
    in the darkness."
    Hana?
    Hana, come on!
    Hana,
    this is Gioia.
    - Buon giorno.
    - Buon giorno.
    She'll take you
    as far as Florence.
    I can get
    in back.

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