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The English Patient (1996) script

by Anthony Minghella

 
1	EXT.    LATE 1942.    THE SAHARA DESERT.    DAY.

SILENCE.  THE DESERT seen from the air.  An ocean of dunes  for mile 
after mile.  The late sun turns the sand every color from crimson to 
black.

An old AEROPLANE is flying over the Sahara.  Its shadow swims over the 
contours of sand.

A woman's voice begins to sing unaccompanied on the track.  Szerelem, 
szerelem, she cries, in a haunting lament for her loved one.

INSIDE the aeroplane are two figures.  One,  A WOMAN, seems to be 
asleep.  Her pale head rests against the side of the cockpit.  THE 
PILOT, a man, wears goggles and a leather helmet.  He is singing, too, 
but we can't hear him or the plane or anything save the singer's 
plaintive voice.

The plane shudders over a ridge.  Beneath it A SUDDEN CLUSTER OF MEN 
AND MACHINES, camouflage nets draped over the sprawl of gasoline tanks 
and armored vehicles.  An OFFICER, GERMAN, focuses his field glasses.  
The glasses pick out the MARKINGS on the plane.  They are English.  An 
ANTI-AIRCRAFT GUN swivels furiously.

Shocking bursts of GUNFIRE.  Explosions rock the plane, which lurches 
violently.  THE WOMAN SLUMPS FORWARD, slamming her head against the 
instruments.  The pilot grabs her, pulls her back, but she's not 
conscious.  The fuel tank above their heads is punctured.  It sprays 
them both, then EXPLODES.

THE MAN FALLS OUT OF THE SKY, clinging to his dead lover.  The are both 
ON FIRE.  She is wrapped in a parachute silk and it burns fiercely.  He 
looks up to see the flames licking at his own parachute as it carries 
them slowly to earth.  Even his helmet is on fire, but the man makes no 
sound as the flames erase all that matters - his name, his past, his 
face, his lover...


2	EXT.    THE DESERT.    1942.    DAY.

THE PILOT HAS BEEN RESCUED BY BEDOUIN TRIBESMEN.  Behind them the 
wreckage of the plane, still smoking, the Arabs picking over it.  A 
SILVER THIMBLE glints in the sun, is retrieved.  Another man comes 
across A LARGE LEATHER-BOUND BOOK and takes it over to the Pilot.  The 
Pilot is charred.  His helmet has melted into his head.  He's oblivious 
to this, cares only about the woman who crashed with him.  He twists 
frantically to find her.  Two men pick him up and carry him across to a 
litter where they carefully wrap him in blankets.


3	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DUSK.

The Pilot is being carried across the desert.  A mask covers his face.  
His view of the world is through the slats of reed.  He glimpses 
camels, fierce low sun, the men who carry him.


4	EXT.    AN  OASIS.    DUSK.

The Pilot sees a man squat down beside him, takes a date from a sack 
and begin to chew it.  Carefully, the Bedouin eases the mask from the 
Pilot's face, leaving bandages of cloth and oil, but revealing a mouth.  
He stops chewing and passes the pulped date into the Pilot's mouth.  
Mouth to mouth.


4a*.	EXT.    DESERT.    DAWN.

THE CARAVANSERAI CROSSES THE DESERT, silhouetted against the dunes.


5	EXT.    AN  OASIS.    NIGHT.

The SOUND OF GLASS, of tiny chimes.  A music of glass.

AN ARAB HEAD APPEARS ON A MOVING TABLE IN THE DESERT.  It floats in 
darkness, shimmering from the light of a fire.  The image develops to 
reveal a man carrying a giant wooden yoke from which hang DOZENS OF 
SMALL GLASS BOTTLES, on different lengths of string and wire.  He could 
be an angel.

The man approaches the litter which carries the Pilot.  He's still in 
the protective reed mask, wrapped in blankets.  The MERCHANT DOCTOR 
stands over the burned body and sinks sticks either side of him deep 
into the sand, then moves away, free of the yoke, which balances in the 
support of the two crutches.  He puts some liquid in the Pilot's 
tongue, whose eyes almost instantly begin to roll.  Then he slowly sets 
about peeling away the layers of oiled cloth which protect the Pilot's 
flesh.

The Merchant Doctor crouches in front of the curtain of bottles and 
MAKES A SKIN CUP with the soles of his feet, then leans back to pluck, 
hardly looking, certain bottles, which he uncorks and mixes in the bowl 
he'd made with his feet.  This mixture he uses to anoint the burned 
skin.  Next he finds green-black PASTE - ground Peacock Bone - and 
BEGINS TO RUB IT on to the Pilot's rib cage.  All the while he us 
humming and chanting.  The bottles continue to jingle.


6*.	EXT.    ITALIAN HILL ROAD.    EARLY 1945.    DAY.

The sand gives way to trees, the jingling bottles to distant church 
bells, as A CONVOY OF TWENTY TRUCKS - Red Cross vehicles and some 
supply vehicles - snakes along a bumpy hill road.  The war in Italy is 
largely over and the Allies are moving up the country, the wounded and 
supply lines slowly following.


7*.	INT.    RED CROSS TRUCK.    DAY.

A young CANADIAN NURSE, HANA, sits in a truck full of patients.  Hana 
pays special care to the PATIENT lying in the stretcher alongside her.  
This is the PILOT - now known as THE ENGLISH PATIENT.  A web of scars 
covers the Patient's face and body.  They have the quality of a livid 
tattoo, magenta and green-black.  The hair has largely gone and the 
effect is curious, lassoing his features, the strong nose, the eyes 
liquid.  It's a warrior's face.  But he has no physical strength.  He 
coughs violently as the trucks shudders along the road.


8*.	EXT.    ITALIAN HILL ROAD.    DAY.

A JEEP pulls out of the line and approaches the Red Cross truck 
containing Hana and the Patient.  The horn blows and Hana looks out to 
see it contains her best friend, JAN.  TWO YOUNG SOLDIERS sit up front, 
one driving, both grinning.  Jan signals for Hana's attention.

			JAN
		There's meant to be lace in the next
		village - the boys are taking me.

			HANA
		I'm not sewing anything else.

			JAN
				(mischievously)
		You don't have any money, do you?  
		Just in case there's silk.

			HANA
		No!

			JAN
		Hana, I know you do!

Hana leans under the tarpaulin, holding some DOLLARS.  The two hands - 
hers and Jan's - reach for each other as the vehicles bump along side 
by side.  They laugh at the effort.  Jan's GOLD BRACELET catches the 
sun and glints.

			HANA
		I'm not sewing anything else for you!

			JAN
				(getting the money)
		I love you.

The Jeep accelerates away.  Hana sighs to the patient.

Suddenly AN EXPLOSION shatters the calm as the jeep runs over a MINE.  
The jeep is THROWN into the air.  The convoy halts and there's chaos as 
soldiers run back pulling people out of the vehicles.  Hana runs the 
other way, towards the accident, until she is prevented from passing by 
a soldier.


9*.	EXT.    ITALIAN HILL ROAD.    LATER.

-- and there's still chaos as two SAPPERS arrive on motorcycles.  One 
of them, a SIKH, wears a turban.

The motorcycles arrive at the front of the convoy.  A nurse, MARY, is 
helping a doctor, OLIVER, attend to the injured driver.  The other two 
bodies are covered with blankets.  There's blood everywhere.  The Sikh 
and his colleague pull out the paraphernalia of their bomb disposal 
equipment.


10	EXT.    ITALIAN HILL ROAD.    DAY.

KIP, the Sikh Lieutenant, and HARDY, his sergeant, explore the road 
ahead of the becalmed convoy, using saucer-like METAL DETECTORS and 
HEADSETS.  Kip is young, lithe, contained, utterly focused as they inch 
along the debris-strewn road.  He stiffens as he registers metal.  With 
a bayonet he carefully scrapes at the mud-caked surface.  Something 
GLEAMS.  Suddenly, A PAIR OF FEET walks across his vision as HANA 
HURRIES PAST, walking carelessly up the road.  It's so surreal that 
neither man registers at first, and then Kip is shouting.

			KIP
		Hey!  Hey!  Stop!  Hey!

			HARDY
		Don't move!  Stand ABSOLUTELY STILL!

 Hana stops.  Hardy gingerly follows her footsteps.

			HARDY
				(as he approaches)
		Good, that's good, just stay still for me
		and then we're going to be fine.

He arrives at Hana.  Then grabs her.  He'd like to slap her face.

			HARDY
		What are you doing?!  What the bloody 
		hell do you think you're doing?

By way of an answer she looks at the ground ahead of her feet.  Jan's 
BRACELET lies in the mud.  Hardy bends down and collects the mangled 
bracelet, presses it into Hana's hands.


11	EXT.    VILLAGE.    DUSK.

The CONVOY is threading through A RUINED VILLAGE, passing the souvenirs 
of war.  An overturned vehicle now used as a game by some children, 
dejected refugees tramping along the side of the road.  From the end of 
one of the buildings are hanging HALF A DOZEN CORPSES, strung upside 
down with crude placards denouncing, in Italian, their collaboration 
with the Nazis.


12	INT.    RED CROSS TRUCK.    CONTINUOUS.

Hana sees all this as she sits blankly inside the truck, the Patient 
swaying alongside her.  She puts out her hand to steady him.


13*.	EXT.    CONVOY SITE, ITALY.    DUSK.

THE CONVOY is making a PITSTOP.  The trucks are silhouetted in a line.  
Hana helps lift the Patient's stretcher onto the ground.  She bends to 
him.

			HANA
		Do you need something?

The Patient nods.  Hana gets up to prepare MORPHINE INJECTION from a 
small kit.  Mary arrives.  Touches Hana gently, conscious of her grief 
for Jan's death.

			MARY
		Are you okay?  Oh God, Hana, you were
		like sisters.

			HANA
				(sighs angrily)
		We keep moving him - in and out of the
		truck.  Why?  He's dying.  What's the point?

			MARY
		Well, we can't hardly leave him.  Do
		you mean leave him?  We can't.

Hana has settled down beside the Patient's stretcher.  She draws 
herself up against the night.  On the hill above, she can see the 
outline of A SMALL MONASTERY in the moonlight.  She's crying, her face 
a frozen mask.

			HANA
		I must be a curse.  Anybody who loves me,
		anybody who gets close to me -
		or I must be cursed.  Which is it?

The Patient laces her fingers into his crabbed hand.


14	EXT.    THE MONASTERY.    DAY.

Hana is investigating the MONASTERY OF ST. ANNA, wandering through its 
overgrown gardens, past a pond.  What sanctuary it seems to offer.


15*.	INT.    THE MONASTERY LIBRARY.    DAY.

Hana explores via a gaping hole in a LIBRARY where the walls have 
collapsed from shelling.  The garden intrudes, ivy curls around the 
shelves.  Bloated books lie abandoned, and there's a PIANO tiled up on 
one side.  Hana presses the keys through the filthy tarpaulin which 
covers it.  Everywhere there are signs of a brief German occupation.


15a*.	INT.    MONASTERY CLOISTERS.    DAY.

Past the Library is a CLOISTERS, drenched with silver light.


15b*.	INT.    THE MONASTERY STAIRS.    DAY.

Hana goes upstairs, negotiating a huge VOID in the stone treads two 
thirds of the way up.


15c*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

She comes across a small CHAPEL, with the remains of murals and an 
altar pressed into service by the Germans as a table.  Hana finds an 
old bed, and a mattress.


16	EXT.    THE MONASTERY GARDEN.    DAY.

Hana comes out, passes a DRY WATER TROUGH.  She hears a rustling on the 
gravel and turns to see A TORTOISE ambling towards the trough.  On cue 
there's A GURGLING SOUND.  THE HANDLELESS PUMP IS SUDDENLY GUSHING, 
splashing water everywhere.  The Tortoise, clearly arriving for this, 
enjoys a welcome shower.  Hana goes to the trough, dips her hands into 
the water.  Looks around her, and makes a decision.


17	EXT.    CONVOY SITE.    ITALY.    DAY.

The Convoy is in the final stages of loading up.  Oliver passes the 
vehicles, deep in dispute with a determined Hana, who is carrying some 
sacks of rice.

			HANA
		The war's over - you told me yourself.
		How can it be desertion?

			OLIVER
		It's not over everywhere.  I didn't mean
		literally.

			HANA
		When he dies I'll catch up.

Oliver hovers as Hana adds the rice to a small cache of provisions, 
then lays another blanket over the Patient.

			OLIVER
		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.
		You're not, this is natural - it's shock.  
		For all of us.  Hana -

			HANA
		I need morphine.  A lot.  And a pistol.

			OLIVER
				(clutching at straws)
		And what if he really is a spy?

			HANA
				(impatiently)
		He can't even move.

			OLIVER
		If anything happened to you I'd never
		forgive myself.

Hana nods.  A tiny smile.  Oliver shrugs helplessly.

			OLIVER
		We're heading for Leghorn.  Livorno the
		Italians call it.  We'll expect you.


18*.	INT.    THE MONASTERY.    DAY.

TWO SOLDIERS are helping Mary and Hana carry the Patient into the 
monastery.  Hana indicates the stairs.

			HANA
		Up there.

They struggle up the stairs, one of the Soldiers gasping as he narrowly 
avoids falling into the void in the stairs.  The cot almost tips up, at 
which the Patient SUDDENLY SPEAKS, his voice cracked and rasping, but 
still clearly aristocratic.

			THE PATIENT
		There was a Prince, who was dying, and
		he was carried up the tower at Pisa so he
		could die with a view of the Tuscan Hills.
		Am I that Prince?

Hana laughs.

			HANA
		Because you're leaning?  No, you're 
		just on an angle.  You're too heavy!

Mary laughs.  They reach the landing.  Hana kicks open the door to the 
CHAPEL.

			HANA
		In here.


18a*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Hana lets Mary take the weight while she goes to the bed and pulls away 
the drapes, sending up a cloud of dust.  They lower the Patient onto 
the bed.  She turns to the SOLDIERS.

			HANA
		Thank you.

She shuts the door on them, leaving Mary staring aghast at the room, 
its faded frescoes, its mold, its chaos.  Hana smiles, opens a shutter 
to let a fierce envelope of light into the room.

			HANA
		Good.

	She goes to Mary and hugs her.


19*.	INT.    HANA'S ROOM.    THE MONASTERY.    DAY.

A smaller upstairs room completely bare.  As Hana tugs off her uniform, 
she looks out of the window to see the departing Convoy.  A cotton 
dress goes on over her head and she emerges looking suddenly younger 
and rather fragile.   THROUGH THE DAMAGED FLOOR OF HER ROOM SHE HAS A 
VIEW OF THE PATIENT BELOW HER.  SHE LOOKS AT HIM.  NOW SHE HAS SCISSORS 
AND STARTS TO CUT OFF HER HAIR, NOT AGGRESSIVELY, BUT IN A GESTURE OF A 
NEW BEGINNING.


19a*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

HANA walks down to the Patient's Room and stands in the doorway.  The 
Patient turns his head to her.  He's grinning.  He puts up a thumb.  On 
the track a song begins:  Some Other Time.


20*.	EXT.  BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.  1938.  LATE DAY.

THE SONG CONTINUED IN THE DESERT where we find the singer - PETER 
MADOX, a weather-beaten man who is working on the guts of an BATTERED 
TIGER MOTH AEROPLANE.  His face is blackened with oil.  A second 
European, ALMÁSY, stands beside him, holding tools and a section of the 
camshaft.  Madox yanks out a perished rubber hose and holds it up for 
Almasy to inspect.  Behind them is an ENCAMPMENT - some camels foraging 
in the meager scrub, half a dozen black tents of the BEDOUIN: guides 
and servants to the Almásy/Madox Expedition.  It's 1938 and the whole 
continent is full of such expeditions, competing with each other, 
pursuing lost treasures, sources of rivers, hidden cities.

D'AGOSTINO, the team's Italian ARCHEOLOGIST, drives towards the plane 
in one of the expedition's adapted FORD MOTORCARS.  He gets out 
carrying a large earthenware WATER JAR.  He looks very pleased with 
himself as he shows the jar to Almásy and then passes it to Madox.

			D'AGOSTINO
		Thirsty?

			MADOX
				(sniffing inside)
		What's this?

			D'AGOSTINO
		Don't drink it!

He reaches for the jug, then pours out a little sludge - it's a 
brackish and stinks.  Madox makes a face.

			D'AGOSTINO
		I can't guarantee the vintage, my 
		friends.  I just dug it out of the hill.

Madox and Almásy have seen many such jugs.

			MADOX
		Excellent.  That's terrific, D'Ag.
				(to Almásy, of a tool)
		Toss that up, would you.

			D'AGOSTINO
				(mischievously)
		There are some others.


21	EXT.    POTTERY HILL.    DAY.

THE BASE OF A HILL SEEMS COMPOSED ENTIRELY OF POTTERY JARS.

D'Agostino emerges over the brow of a dune, leading Madox and Almásy.  
The other members of the team are already there - BERMANN, a German 
PHOTOGRAPHER and FOUAD, EGYPTOLOGIST from Cairo.

			MADOX
				(to Almásy, astonished)
		My God, look at this!

They bend to touch the jars, literally hundreds of them, mostly broken, 
piled on top of each other.  Bermann approaches them, carrying his 
tripod.

			BERMANN
		Incredible, Hmm?  Quite incredible.

			D'AGOSTINO
		I've never seen anything like it.  There 
		would have been enough water here to
		serve an army.

			ALMÁSY
				(gloomily)
		Which means we're in the wrong place.

Almásy speaks with a slight but unmistakable European accent.

			D'AGOSTINO
		Why?

			ALMÁSY
		Would you stockpile water near to an
		Oasis?  There can't be a natural spring
		within fifty miles of here.

			FOUAD
		Or they didn't know of one.

			BERMANN
		So, it may not be Zerzura, still
		incredible.

			D'AGOSTINO
				(nodding, delighted)
		A pottery hill!

			ALMÁSY
		A wild goose chase.

			MADOX
				(firmly)
		No.

Almásy gives him a look.  But Madox will have none of it.

			MADOX
		No.  Now we look in the other places.
		We're eliminating.

The unmistakable buzz of AN AEROPLANE distracts them.

			MADOX
		Good, and here comes reinforcements.


21a*.	EXT.    BASE CAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    DAY.

LATER and a smart new aeroplane, a STEERMAN, makes a smooth landing on 
the flat desert.  The expedition team drives over to meet the arrivals.  
Almásy is not with them.  He's walking, apparently not so enthusiastic.

A young, kissed and newly-married couple emerge from the plane.  They 
are GEOFFREY AND KATHARINE CLIFTON.

And it's immediately clear that Katharine is the woman in the plane-
crash at the beginning of the film.

Madox makes all the introductions.  Hands are shaken, hellos all round, 
as the couple disembark in their leather flying gear.  Geoffrey removes 
his helmet and, in what we will come to know as an ubiquitous gesture, 
produces a bottle of CHAMPAGNE and sets off the cork with a flourish.

			CLIFTON
		I hereby Christen us the International
		Sand Club!


22	EXT.    BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    LATE DAY.

The party is in the shade of the tents.  Almásy joins the group.  Madox 
nods over to the Clifton plane.

			MADOX
		Marvelous plane.  Did you look?

			CLIFTON
				(beaming at Almásy)
		Isn't it?  Wedding present from
		Katharine's parents.  I'm calling it
		Rupert Bear.  Hello.  Geoffrey Clifton.

			MADOX
		We can finally consign my old bird
		to the scrapheap.

	Almásy smiles and walks on towards the others.

			D'AGOSTINO
		Mrs. Clifton - Count Almasy.

			KATHARINE
				(smiling, offering her hand)
		Geoffrey gave me your monograph when
		I was reading up on the desert.
		Very impressive.

			ALMÁSY
				(stiff)
		Thank you.

			KATHARINE
		I wanted to meet a man who could write
		such a long paper with so few adjectives.

			ALMÁSY
		A thing is still a thing no matter what
		you place in front of it.  Big car, slow
		car, chauffeur-driven car, still a car.

			CLIFTON
				(joining them and joining in)
		A broken car?

			ALMÁSY
		Still a car.

			CLIFFTON
				(hands them champagne)
		Not much use, though.

			KATHARINE
		Love?  Romantic love, platonic love,
		filial love - ?  Quite different things,
		surely?

			CLIFTON 
				(hugging Katharine)
		Uxoriousness - that's my favorite kind
		of love.  Excessive love of one's wife.

			ALMÁSY
				(a dry smile)
		There you have me.


23	INT.  THE PATIENT'S ROOM.  THE MONASTERY.  MORNING.

The morning floods into the room.  The Patient lies, lost in the 
desert.  Then a sudden CLATTERING NOISE disturbs him.


24	INT.   STAIRS, THE MONASTERY.   DAY.

Hana is dropping armfuls of books into the cavities of the damaged 
stairs, and with others, she is improvising new steps.  The heavy 
volumes are perfect for treading on.


25	INT.   LIBRARY.   DAY.

Hana comes in, gathers up another armful of books and carries them out 
to continue her stair repairs.


26*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Hana enters.

			THE PATIENT
		What was all the banging?  Were you
		fighting rats or the entire German army?

			HANA
		I was repairing the stairs.  I found a
		library and the books were very useful.

Hana shrugs.  She's attending to him, pulling back the sheets, plumping 
up the pillows.  He's short of breath.

			THE PATIENT
		Before you find too many uses for these
		books would you read some to me?

			HANA
		I think they're all in Italian, but I'll
		look, yes.  What about your own book?

			THE PATIENT
				(reluctant)
		My book?  The Herodotus?  Yes, we
		can read him.

Hana picks up the book and hands it to him.  Then she starts rummaging 
in her pockets.

			HANA
		Oh - I've found plums.  We have plums
		in the orchard.  We have an orchard!

She has peeled a plum and now slips it into his mouth.

			THE PATIENT
		Thank you.

His mouth works with the pleasure of the taste, a little juice escaping 
from the mouth.  Hana mops it up.

			THE PATIENT
		The plumness of this plum.

A noise, GURGLING sound, disturbs them.

			THE PATIENT
		What's that?


27	INT/EXT.    THE MONASTERY.    DAY.

Hana comes through the Cloisters into the garden as the gurgling 
increases.  She's in time to catch the TORTOISE arriving once again in 
the WATER TROUGH just as it starts to gush with water.  She shouts up 
to The Patient's open window.

			HANA
		Water!
				(bends to the Tortois)
		You hear it, too, don't you!


28	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Close on the HERODOTUS.  The Patient opens its cover, held together by 
leather ties.  Loose PAPERS, PHOTOGRAPHS, HAND-DRAWN MAPS AND SKETCHES 
are all collected between the pages.  He claws at some water-colors 
which appear to be based on CAVE PAINTINGS - figures, dark-skinned 
warriors of the stone age, some with bows in their hands, others with 
plumes in their hair - arranged in abstract patterns uncannily like 
those of Matisse.  Some appear to be swimming, another is diving.  Then 
the Patient loses control of the papers and the whole parcel SPILLS to 
the floor with a crack.


29	INT.    BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    DUSK.

A SHOT RINGS OUT, disturbing the evening meal.  Almásy and others go 
outside.  Silhouetted on a ridge, a group of men sit astride camels.  
One of them holds his rifle aloft, clearly pointing towards the sky - 
means friend.  Fouad peers at the horizon.

			FOUAD
		European, I think, with guides.

			CLIFTON
				(can only see shapes)
		How do you know?

			MADOX
				(frowns)
		Yes, and I think I know who this is.


30	EXT.    BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    DUSK.

ALMÁSY AND MADOX WALK OUT TO INTERCEPT THE ARRIVALS as the first Arab 
dismounts, the procession of camels splaying out as if in collapse.  
Almásy speaks in Arabic, exchanging the ritual greetings.

DURING THIS, FENELON-BARNES, sole European in this expedition, has 
finally persuaded his camel to sit, and dismounts irritably, slapping 
the animal in disgust.

			FENELON-BARNES
		Ugly brute.  Shits and roars and
		complains all day.
				(bypassing Almásy and
approaching Madox)
		Of course, you have your aeroplane.  
		Two now!  Do you still call yourselves
		explorers?  I assume not.

			MADOX
				(stiffly)
		Fenelon-Barnes.

			ALMÁSY
		Yes, I think a sailor can call himself an
		explorer, can't he?  Or should Columbus
		have swum to America?


31	INT.    BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    DUSK.

The arrivals come inside.  Madox handles the introductions.

			MADOX
		I think you know all of us, except for
		Geoffrey and Katharine Clifton, who've
		recently come out from England.

			CLIFTON
		Apprentices.

			MADOX
		This is Clive Fenelon-Barnes.

			FENELON-BARNES
				(to Katharine)
		I know your mother, of course.

			KATHARINE
		Hello.

			FENELON-BARNES
		I'm also searching for the lost Oasis, 
		but by more authentic means.

			MADOX
				(of Almásy)
		Anyway, my friend here has a new theory -
		that Zerzura doesn't exist.  So we may all
		be chasing windmills.  Have some food.

			FENELON-BARNES
		Well, it's certainly not between here and
		Dakhla.  Nine days of nothing but sand
		and sandstorms.  An egg.  I found an
		ostrich egg and some fossils.

			KATHARINE
		Isn't Zerzura supposed to be protected by
		spirits who take on the shape of sandstorms?

			ALMÁSY
		What kind of fossils?

			FENELON-BARNES
		I'll invite you to my paper at the
		Royal Geographical Society.
		Are you still a member?

He takes a long drink from a bowl of frothing camel milk.

			ALMÁSY
		I think you know I am.

			FENELON-BARNES
				(ignoring Almásy)
		Quite impossible, Madox.  You must know 
		that.  If you attempt to cross the Sand
		Sea due east of Kufra by car you'll leave
		your bones in the sand for me to collect.

			ALMÁSY
				(leaving the tent)
		If you come across my bones - I hope
		you'll do me the honor of leaving 
		them in peace.
				(to Katharine)
		Excuse me.

			FENELON-BARNES
		You have my word as a gentleman.
				(watching him leave)
		I've discovered a unique type of
		sand-dune.  I've applied to the King
		for permission to call it 
		The Fenelon-Barnes Formation.


32	EXT.    BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    NIGHT.

	LATER, supper over, the company is entertaining itself.

Almásy, standing outside his tent, watches the merriment from a 
distance.

D'Ag is nearing the end of a passionate rendition of  Puccini's E 
Lucevan Le Stelle.  He sits down to much applause from the others and 
SPINS AN EMPTY CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE on the sand.  It comes to rest pointing 
at Clifton who gets up, grinning, and plunges into Yes! We Have No 
Bananas with great gusto.  His version involves CHANGING LANGUAGE 
during each line of the chorus - prompted by Oui!  or Ja!  or Si!  from 
the others.  Song finished, much bowing and guying, he spins the bottle 
and it arrives equidistant between Fenelon-Barnes and Katharine - until 
with a little NUDGE from the husband it settles on his wife.  Katharine 
gets up, awkward.

			KATHARINE
		I can't sing.
				(the audience groans)
		but I can tell a story.
				(to Almásy, who has arrived)
		I might need a prompt.  Do you have your
		Herodotus?  I've noticed you carry it...

			ALMÁSY
		I'm sorry - what have you noticed?

			MADOX
		Your book.  Your Herodotus!

Almásy looks uncomfortable.

			KATHARINE
				(reacting quickly)
		It doesn't matter.  Really.  I think I can
		muddle through.  Okay - The Story of 
		Candaules and Gyges.  King Candaules was
		passionately in love with his wife -
				(Geoffrey whistles proudly)
		One day he said to Gyges, the son of
		somebody, anyway - his favorite warrior -

			ALMÁSY
				(quietly prompting her)
		Daskylus...

			KATHARINE
				(smiles)
		Yes, thank you, Gyges, son of Daskylus -
		Candaules said to him I don't think you
		believe me when I tell you how beautiful
		my wife is.  And although Gyges replied he
		did find the Queen magnificent the King 
		insisted he would find some way to prove
		beyond dispute that she was fairest of
		all women.  Do you all know this story?

The men all encourage her to continue her story.


33*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

- and Hana's voice CONTINUES THE STORY as she reads to the Patient who 
listens, eyes closed, still in the desert.

			HANA
				(reading from the Herodotus)
		I will hide you in the room where 
		we sleep, said Candaules.

She stumbles over the word.

			THE PATIENT
		Candaules

			HANA
				(not neurotic)
		Candaules...you're laughing at me.

			THE PATIENT
		I'm not laughing at you.  Go on, please.

			HANA
		When my wife comes to lie down she always
		lays her garments one by one on a seat
		near the entrance of the room, and from
		where you stand you will be able to gaze
		on her at your leisure...


34*.	EXT.    BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    NIGHT.

			KATHARINE
				(her story continuing)
		And that evening, it's exactly as the
		King had told him, she goes to the chair
		and removes her clothes, one by one, 
		until she stand naked in full view of
		Gyges.  And indeed she was more lovely
		than he could have imagined.

Almásy stares at her, framed by the velvet black sky.  Katharine turns 
to looks at him.

			KATHARINE
		But then the Queen looked up and saw
		Gyges concealed in the shadows.   And
		though she said nothing, she shuddered.
		The next day she sent for Gyges and
		challenged him.  And hearing his story,
		she said this -

			CLIFTON
		Off with his head!

			KATHERINE
		#NAME?
		death for gazing on that which you
		should not, or else kill my husband who
		shamed me and become King in his place.

Clifton makes a face of outrage.  For Katherine the story has 
collapsed.  She wants it to be finished.

			KATHERINE
		So Gyges killed the King and married
		the Queen and became ruler of Lydia
		for twenty eight years.  The End.
				(an uncomfortable moment)
		Do I spin the bottle?

Almásy shrinks away from the fire, disappears into black.

			MADOX
				(to Clifton)
		And let that be a lesson to you!


35	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

Hana looks up from the Herodotus, sees the Patient's eyes closed.  
Gently touches his face and whispers.

			HANA
		Are you asleep?

			THE PATIENT
				(lying)
		Yes.  Dropping off.

And Hana closes the book, gets up, and blows out the lamp.  


36	INT.   FENELON-BARNES TENT.   POTTERY HILL.   NIGHT.

PITCH BLACK and then A TORCH flickers on as Almásy enters Fenelon-
Barnes' tent.  He pulls apart his luggage, quickly and methodically.  
He finds what he is looking for inside a trunk:  A LARGE FOSSILIZED 
BRANCH; a collection of stone leaves, wrapped in a piece of tarpaulin.  
Then he's distracted by a noise from Fenelon-Barnes' bed.  Almásy 
stiffens, turns to investigate.  There's A LUMP in the cot.  A dog?  
Almásy eases back the blanket to reveal a YOUNG GIRL, no more than 
fourteen, bound hand and foot.  He holds the torch to her face.


37	EXT.    BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    MORNING.

The next morning.  Almásy and Madox prepare to take off.  As they talk 
Clifton's Rupert Bear taxis past them, a wave from Clifton and 
Katharine.  Madox is very disturbed by what Almásy is telling him.

			MADOX
		What did you think you were
		doing in his tent?

			ALMÁSY
		Looking for the fossils.  Why should we
		wait until we're in London?  This girl 
		was probably twelve years old.

			MADOX
				(getting into the plane)
		You shouldn't go into another man's tent.
		It's inexcusable.

			ALMÁSY
		Her hands and feet were tied.

			MADOX
		What did you do?

			ALMÁSY
		I looked at them.  They're shrubs,
		small trees.  Exquisite.  And
		fossilized, rock hard.

He walks away to the nose of the plane.

			MADOX
		I was talking about the girl.

			ALMÁSY
		Cut the ropes.  I left a note,
		on his blanket.
				(gleefully)
		At the next Geographical Society I 
		shall await with great interest the
		announcement of the Fenelon-Barnes
		Slave Knot.  The Girl wouldn't leave, 
		of course.  Her father had sold her
		for a camel.

He turns over the propeller, the engine cranks up.


38	EXT.    GILF KEBIR PLATEAU.    MORNING.

Both planes are scouting the Gilf Kebir region.  Geoffrey flies up 
alongside Madox and wiggles his wings.  Madox waves.

They're flying over a distinctive group of GRANITE MASSIFS, Crater-
shaped hills.  The broken towers of the Gilf Kebir.  Almasy is 
distracted by them.  He turns to Madox and points down, indicating they 
should explore them.

Madox gestures to the Cliftons to PHOTOGRAPH the Massifs.  A THUMBS UP 
from Geoffrey.


39*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    MORNING.

Hana gives the Patient his injection, now she begins to change the 
sheet.  The light streams in from the open window.  She looks up at the 
green hills rolling away from the Monastery, the village in the 
distance.

			HANA
		I should try and move your bed.  I want
		you to be able to see the view.  It's
		good, it's a view from a monastery.

			THE PATIENT
		I can already see.

			HANA
				(bending down to his level)
		How?  How can you see anything?

			THE PATIENT
		Not the window - I can't bear the light
		anyway - no, I can see all the way to 
		the desert.  I've found the lost fossils.

			HANA
		I'm turning you.

An awkward moment as she rolls him on to his back.  He grunts with the 
pain.  She washes him very tenderly.

			THE PATIENT
		Zerzura, the White City of Acacias, the
		Oasis of Little Birds.  As me about the
		scent of acacia - it's in this room.  I can
		smell it.  The taste of tea so black it
		falls into your mouth.  I can taste it.
		I'm chewing the mint.  Is there sand in my
		eyes?  Are you cleaning sand from my ears?

			HANA
		No sand.  That's your drugs speaking.

			THE PATIENT
		I can see my wife in that view.

			HANA
		Are you remembering more?

			THE PATIENT
		Could I have a cigarette?

			HANA
		Are you crazy?

			THE PATIENT
		Why are you so determined to
		keep me alive?

			HANA
		Because I'm a nurse.


40	EXT.    THE MONASTERY GARDENS.    NOON.

The TORTOISE heads towards the trough, to the gurgling accompaniment.  
It reaches the shade only to be greeted by the obstacle of some tennis 
shoes, a frock.  It clambers over as the water begins to belch out.  
Hana, naked, kneeling in the trough, receives the shower with a great 
YELP of shivering joy.


41*.	EXT.    THE MONASTERY CLOISTERS.    NIGHT.

It's dark, but something is going on here.  Hana is caught by the stray 
shafts of moonlight.  She is SCRATCHING something on the flagstones.  
Her skirt is bunched up around her thighs.  She throws something in the 
air.  It's a SPILE, used to tap into the maple tree for syrup.  It 
lands with a crack.  Suddenly she is flying across the space, a hop, a 
skip, a jump.  Then turns at the other end, dips for the stone, then 
back again, in this blindman's version of HOPSCOTCH.


42*.	INT.    TRAIN.    ITALY 1944.    BEFORE DAWN.

AS HANA HOPS AND JUMPS IN THE SHADOWS SHE IS SUDDENLY ON A TRAIN IN 
1944.  A HOSPITAL TRAIN ploughs through the night carrying the wounded 
back to Naples.

Hana walks through a long carriage.  HER HAIR IS LONG.  She could be 
ten years younger than the Hana at the Monastery.  And easy.  She stops 
at the bunk of A NEW PATIENT.  Hana bends to the boy.  He's had 
shrapnel in his legs and cheek.  She speaks softly to him.

			HANA
		How are you?

			BOY
		Okay.

			HANA
		Your leg will be fine.  A lot of shrapnel
		came out - I saved you the pieces.

			BOY
		You're the prettiest girl I ever saw.

			HANNA
				(she hears this every day)
		I don't think so.

			BOY
		Would you kiss me?

			HANA
		No, I'll get you some tea. Wait till
		you're in Naples.  You'll find a
		girl there.

			BOY
				(innocent)
		Just kiss me.  It would mean
		such a lot to me.

			HANA
				(tender, believing him)
		Would it?

She kisses him, very softly, on the lips.

			BOY
		Thank you.

He closes his eyes.  Is almost instantly asleep.  Hana smiles, 
continues along the compartment.  VOICES CALL OUT.

			#1 INJURED MAN
		Nurse - I can't sleep.

			#2 INJURED MAN
		Nurse?  Would you kiss me?

			#3 INJURED MAN
		You're so pretty!

			#4 INJURED MAN
		Hinky-dinky parlez-vous!

			HANA
				(good-naturedly waving
away their joke)
		Very funny.  Go to sleep.

She gets into a corridor.  Mary is coming the other way.  She carries a 
blood-soaked bundle.  Hana questions her appalled expression.

			MARY
		Don't ask.


43	INT.    RAILWAY STATION.    DAY.

The train is arriving.  Hana hangs out of a window, scouring the crowds 
to find her sweetheart, STUART McGANN, a young Canadian Captain, who 
seeing her runs up to her window.

			HANA
		Where are we going?  I don't want to be
		kissing in a crowd.  I have six hours.

She jumps out of the moving door and into his arms.

			STUART
				(laughing at her ferocity)
		Whoa - give me a chance!

			HANA
		Sorry.  I took a Benzedrine.

The Station is full of desperate people trying to make do.  the couple 
hurry through, oblivious to anyone except each other.

			STUART
		I've got a surprise.  A boat!  We can go
		to Capri.  It's got a cabin, it's private.

			HANA
		I'd like to spend a night with you
		in a bed.

			STUART
		We can do that when we're very very old.


44	INT.    THE MONASTERY.    HANA'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

Hana lies alone in her bed covered by a curtain.  There's a sharp 
NOISE.  She's very frightened.  She has her pistol under her pillow and 
pulls it out, listens, holding her breath.  Another BANG.  She listens.


45	EXT.    THE MONASTERY.    HANA'S GARDEN.    DAY.

Hana has been reviving a vegetable patch.  She comes to garden.  CROWS 
are feasting.  She's furious, shouts, runs at them.  Nature, wildness, 
insisting on invading her peace.


46*.	EXT.    THE MONASTERY.    GRAVEYARD.    MORNING.

Hana appears from the Cemetery, dragging A METAL CRUCIFIX.  It's bigger 
than she is, and she drags it, as if approaching Calvary.  A MAN 
WATCHER HER FROM A BICYCLE.  He's approaching fifty, grizzled and 
attractive, and could be Italian.  His hands are bandaged.  Hana aims 
the cross at the soil, but is not quite bit or strong enough.  The man, 
CARAVAGGIO, chooses this moment to introduce himself.  He drops the 
bicycle on the ground with a clatter.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(very cheerful)
		Buon' Giorno!

Hana turns, startled and suspicious.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Are you Hana?

			HANA
		What do you want?

			CARAVAGGIO
		I met your friend Mary.  She said I
		should stop and see if you were okay.
		Apparently we're neighbors - my house
		is two blocks from yours in Montreal.
		Cabot, north of Laurier.  Bonjour.

			HANA
				(unraveling this information)
		Bonjour.

He goes to her and - putting a bandaged hand behind her ear - PRODUCES 
AN EGG.  He beams, as does Hana.

			CARAVAGGIO
		I'd like to take credit, but it's from
		Mary.  My name's David Caravaggio,
		but nobody ever called me David.
		Caravaggio they find to absurd to
		miss out on.

During this he attempts the same thing with his other hand to Hana's 
other ear.  THE EGG DROPS TO THE GROUND.  Cursing, he gets on his knees 
and starts to scoop it up, preserving it.


47*.	INT.    THE MONASTERY.    KITCHEN.    DAY.

Hana has taken his eggs and put them into a bowl.  She beats them with 
a knife picking out the bits of shell.  Caravaggio watches, takes in 
how little food there is otherwise.  The table seems useful more as a 
sewing area than for cooking - it's STREWN WITH ALTAR CLOTHS being sewn 
into drapes.  On a tray on the table are TWO PHIALS OF MORPHINE from 
the Patient's room.  As Hana turns to the stove, he's moved and covered 
them with his bandaged hands, a second later and he's juggled them into 
his pockets with the slightest clink.  Hana looks at him.  He shrugs, 
nods at the eggs.

			CARAVAGGIO
		They're fresh.  I haven't eaten an egg
		in...have you noticed there are chickens?
		You get chickens in Italy but no eggs.
		In Africa there were always eggs, but
		never chickens.  Who separates them?

			HANA
		You were in Africa?

			CARAVAGGIO
		Yeah, for a while.

			HANA
		So was my Patient.

			CARAVAGGIO
		I'd like to stay.  That's the long and
		short of it.  I mean, you know blah-blah
		if it's convenient, if there's room 
		blah-blah-blah.  I have to do some 
		work here -I speak the language.  
		There are Partisans to be -
				(trying to paraphrase)
		#NAME?
		relieve them of their weapons, you 
		know - while we hug.  I was a thief, so 
		they think I'd be good at that.

			HANA
		So you can shoot a pistol?

			CARAVAGGIO
				(showing his hands)
		No.

			HANA
		If you said yes I would have had a
		reason.  You should let me redress
		those bandages.  Before you go.

			CARAVAGGIO
		I'm okay.  Look, it's a big house.  We
		needn't disturb each other.  I can shoot
		a pistol!  I'll sleep in the stables.  I
		don't care where I sleep.  I don't sleep.

			HANA
		Because we're fine here.  I don't know
		what Mary told you about me, but I
		don't need company, I don't need
		to be looked at.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Fine.  I'm not looking.


48	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Hana carries in a tray.  There's OMELETTE on the plate.

			HANA
		There's a man downstairs.  He
		brought us eggs.
				(shows him the omelette)
		He might stay.

			THE PATIENT
		Why?  Can he lay eggs?

			HANA
		He's Canadian.

			THE PATIENT
				(brittle)
		Why are people always so happy when
		they collide with someone from the same
		place?  What happened in Montreal when
		you passed a man in the street - did you
		invite him to live with you?

			HANA
		He needn't disturb you.

			THE PATIENT
		Me?  He can't.  I'm already disturbed.

			HANA
		He won't disturb us then.  I think
		he's after morphine.
				(she's cut the omelette
into tiny pieces)
		There's a war.  Where you come from
		becomes important.  And besides - 
		we're vulnerable here.  I keep hearing
		noises in the night.  Voices.

The Patient says nothing.  She puts a spoonful of the omelette into his 
mouth.  He grunts.


49	INT.    THE MONASTERY.    STAIRS.    DAY.

	Caravaggio is in the shadows on the stairs.  HE LISTENS.


50	EXT.    CAIRO MARKET.    1938.    DAY.

A STREET MARKET in full sway, a locals-only affair, blazing with noise 
and bustle and barter.  Emerging from a thicket of women and begging 
children, KATHARINE CLIFTON carries her purchase of an exotic-looking 
RUG.  From nowhere she is joined by Almásy.

			ALMÁSY
		How much did you pay?

			KATHARINE
				(delighted)
		Hello!  Good morning.

			ALMÁSY
		They don't see foreign women in this
		market.  How much did you pay?

			KATHARINE
		Seven pounds, eight, I suppose.  Why?

			ALMÁSY
		Which stall?

			KATHARINE
		Excuse me?

			ALMÁSY
		You've been cheated, don't worry,
		we'll take it back.

			KATHARINE
				(bristling)
		I don't want to go back.

			ALMÁSY
		This is not worth eight pounds,
		Mrs. Clifton.

			KATHARINE
		I don't care to bargain.

			ALMÁSY
		That insults them.

			KATHARINE
				(turning to face him)
		I don't believe that.  I think you are
		insulted by me, somehow.  You're a
		foreigner too, aren't you, here,
		in this market?

			ALMÁSY
				(of the carpet)
		I should be very happy to obtain
		the correct price for this.  I apologize
		if I appear abrupt.  I am rusty at
		social graces.
				(tart)
		How do you find Cairo?  Did you
		visit the Pyramids?

			KATHARINE
		Excuse me.

He stands as she continues, pushing past him, shrugging off the 
children, boiling.


51	INT.    SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL.    CAIRO.    EVENING.

THE LONG BAR.  The Exploration Team are drinking at a table.  They are 
not entirely off-duty - Almásy and Madox as ever ponder the maps.  
Geoffrey Clifton appears, arms waving.

			CLIFTON
		Gentlemen, good evening!

He sits down.   Madox hails the waiter.

			D'AGOSTINO
		How is your charming wife?

			CLIFTON
		Uh, marvelous.  She's in love with
		the hotel plumbing.  She's either in
		the swimming pool - she swims for
		hours, she's a fish, quite incredible -
		or she's in the bath.  Actually,
		she's just outside.
				(responding to their
bewildered expressions)
		Chaps Only in the Long Bar.

			MADOX
				(standing, embarrassed)
		Of course.  Well, we should all go
		out onto the terrace.

			CLIFTON
		Oh no, really.  She has her book.

			MADOX
		I won't hear of it.  None of us will.


52	EXT.    SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL TERRACE.    NIGHT.

Katharine appears with Geoffrey to join the arriving Explorers.  She 
looks exquisite in her evening clothes.  Madox brings her to her seat.  
There is dancing inside, and couples walk to and from their tables.  
Katharine manages to produce a dazzling smile which includes everyone 
except Almásy.

			MADOX
		Mrs. Clifton, you'll have to forgive
		us.  We're not accustomed to the
		company of women.

			KATHARINE
		Not at all.  I was thoroughly 
		enjoying by book.
				(indicating they should all sit 
and then nodding at Almásy
before greeting the others)
		Please.  Signor D'Agostino, Herr Bermann.

			CLIFTON
		The team is in mourning, darling.

			KATHARINE
		Oh really?

			MADOX
		I'm afraid we're not having much luck
		obtaining funds for the expedition.

			KATHARINE
		How awful.  What will you do?

			MADOX
		A more modest expedition, or even wait a
		year.  Remind our families we still exist.

			CLIFTON
				(astonished)
		Good heavens, are you married, Madox?

			MADOX
		Very much so.  We are all, save my
		friend here.

He nods at Almasy.  Clifton appears tremendously relieved.

			CLIFTON
		I feel much better, don't you darling?
		We were feeling rather self-conscious.
		Let's toast, then.  To absent wives.

			D'AGOSTINO
				(toasting Katharine)
		And present ones.

			KATHARINE
				(toasting Almásy)
		And future ones.


53	INT.    SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL.    NIGHT.

THE BALLROOM.  A dance finishes.  Almásy takes over from D'Agostino to 
partner Katharine.  They dance beautifully.  The others remain on the 
terrace in deep conversation.

			KATHARINE
		Why did you follow me yesterday?

			ALMÁSY
		Excuse me?

			KATHARINE
		After the market, you followed me
		to the hotel.

			ALMÁSY
		I was concerned.  As I said, women in
		that part of Cairo, a European women,
		I felt obliged to.

			KATHARINE
		You felt obliged to.

			ALMÁSY
		As the wife of one of our party.

			KATHARINE
				(sardonic)
		So why follow me?  Escort me, by
		all means.  Following me is
		predatory, isn't it?

The dance finishes.  They walk back to their table, where Almásy leads 
Katharine back to her seat next to Clifton.

			CLIFTON
		I was just saying, I'm going to cable
		Downing Street, see if I can't stir up
		a few shillings - Katharine's mother
		and the PM's wife are best -

			KATHARINE
				(interrupting)
		Darling, for goodness' sake!

			CLIFTON
		Well, she is!


54*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Hana, having already replaced the bedlinen, is standing on a stepladder 
trying to hang home-made drapes around the bed as Caravaggio knocks 
tentatively, then comes in.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Hello.

			THE PATIENT
		Finally!  So you're our
		Canadian pickpocket?

	He goes to help Hana, they work as he talks.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Thief, I think, is more accurate.

			THE PATIENT
		I understand you were in Africa.
		Whereabouts?

			CARAVAGGIO
		Oh, all over.

			THE PATIENT
		All over?  I kept trying to cover
		a very modest portion and still failed.
				(to Hana)
		Are you leaving us?  Now's our
		opportunity to swap war wounds.

			HANA
		Then I'm definitely going.

And she exits.  The men consider her.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Does she have war wounds?


55*.	INT.    THE MONASTERY.    HANA'S ROOM.    DAY.

As Hana walks up her stairs she finds herself overhearing their 
conversation as it threads up through the hole in the ceiling.  She 
strips her own bed of the curtain she uses for a sheet.

			THE PATIENT
		I think anybody she ever loves
		tends to die on her.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Are you planning to be the exception?

			THE PATIENT
		Me?  You've got the wrong end of
		the stick, old boy.
				(a pause)
		So - Caravaggio - Hana thinks you
		invented your name.

			CARAVAGGIO
		And you've forgotten yours.

			THE PATIENT
		I told her you would never invent
		such a preposterous name.

			CARAVAGGIO
		I told her you can forget everything
		but you never forget your name.


56*.	EXT.    BEACH CABIN.    ITALY.    DAY.    1944.

HANA IS STILL LISTENING BUT NOW SHE'S OUTSIDE A CABIN.  She's in her 
uniform, clearing things away.  The Cabin door is ajar.  An OFFICER 
moves around, then sits to make notes.

			OFFICER (O/S)
		What about your rank or serial number?

			THE PATIENT (O/S)
		No.  I think I was a pilot.  I was found
		near the wreckage of a plane by the
		Bedouin.  I was with them for some time.

THIS CONVALESCENCE HOSPITAL HAS BEEN FASHIONED FROM A LONG ROW OF 
BATHING CABINS ON THE COAST, complete with Campari Umbrellas and metal 
tables, at which are seated the bandaged and the dying and the 
comatose, staring out to sea or in slow, muted conversation.  Hana 
walks up to the Patient's cabin.  He is propped up with a view of the 
sea, which is interrupted by the pacing Officer.  Hana has a blanket 
and a chart for the Patient's bed.  She busies herself.

			OFFICER
		Do you remember where you were born?

			THE PATIENT
		Am I being interrogated?  You should be
		trying to trick me.  Ask me about
		Tottenham Hotspur.  Or Buckingham Palace.
		About Marmite - I was addicted.  Or make
		me speak German, which I can, by the way.

			OFFICER
		Why?  Are you German?

			THE PATIENT
		No.  

			OFFICER
		How do you know you're not German if
		you don't remember anything?

			THE PATIENT
		You tell me.  I remember a lot of things.
		I remember a garden, plunging down to
		the sea - the Devil's Chimney we called
		it - and there was a cottage at the
		bottom, right on the shore, nothing
		between you and France.

			OFFICER
		This was your garden?

			THE PATIENT
		Or my wife's.

			OFFICER
		Then you were married?

			THE PATIENT
		I think so.  Although I believe that
		to be true of a number of Germans.
		Might I have a glass of water?

Hana pours him a glass of water.  He notices her.

			THE PATIENT
		Thank you.
				(he sips)
		Look - my lungs are useless -
				(makes a small gap with
his fingers)
		I've got this much lung...the rest
		of my organs are packing up -
		what could it possibly matter if I
		were Tutankhamun?  I'm a bit of
		toast, my friend - butter me and
		slip a poached egg on top.

Hana leaves, smiling at the Patient's irascibility, sharing this with 
the Officer, who frowns.  The interview continues.


57	EXT.    BEACH CABIN.    DAY.

Hana walks between the cabins.  STUART steps out of the shade.  He is 
drawn, older than last seen.

			STUART
		My leave is canceled.  I can't
		meet you later.

Hana frowns, helpless.  As if to emphasize this, a Staff Nurse comes 
by, carrying a bowl and a withering look.


58*.	INT.    BEACH CABIN.    DAY.

 Hana enters, approaches the Patient.  She's circumspect.

			HANA
		Excuse me -

			THE PATIENT
		Yes?

			HANA
		Can I ask - my friend, can he come in?
		Just for a few minutes?

			THE PATIENT
		Your friend?

			HANA
		He's going back to the front this
		evening.  I can't see him otherwise.

			THE PATIENT
		Just go off.  I'll be quite all right.

			HANA
		No, I can't go, but if it, if you weren't 
		offended, it would be very good of you 
		to allow us - every other cabin is crammed.
		This is as private as we'll get.

			THE PATIENT
		Well then - yes.  Of course.

			HANA
		Thank you.  Thank you.

She hurries out, returns with Stuart.  They stand awkwardly.

			HANA
		This is Captain McGann.

			THE PATIENT
		Please, don't waste your time on
		pleasantries -

			STUART
		Thanks.

			THE PATIENT
		I'm going to sing.  If I sing I shan't
		hear anything.

And with that he bursts into a raucous, coughing version of Yes! We 
Have No Bananas.  He changes language each verse.  The couple stand, 
formal, then edge round to the back of the bed.

			HANA
				(touching his lip)
		You've got a mustache.

			STUART
		A bit of one.

			HANA
		I was looking forward to this evening.

			STUART
				(whispers)
		I had a hotel room.

			HANA 
				(whispers)
		I thought that was for when we
		were very very old?

			STUART
		I'm feeling old.

They EMBRACE, fiercely, hardly making a sound, or moving.  THE PATIENT 
ROARS THE SONG.


59*.	EXT.   THE MONASTERY.   HANA'S GARDEN.   MORNING.

A battered open backed TRUCK comes into the Monastery.  An ITALIAN 
PARTISAN sits in the back, a SHOTGUN resting on his knees.  The truck 
stops, and Caravaggio emerges from the passenger door.  He collects 
some packages from the PARTISAN, including a dead RABBIT, and then 
exchanges a few words with the driver.  Hana, who's watching all of 
this from her garden, sees that the driver is a WOMAN.  The woman's 
name is GIOIA, and Caravaggio leans into the window to make his goodbye 
to her.

Caravaggio approaches the Vegetable Garden as Hana comes to greet him.  
He throws her the rabbit, and hurries up the stairs without pausing, 
clutching the other boxes.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Supper.

Hana calls after him.

			HANA
		Where've you been?

			CARAVAGGIO
				(not stopping)
		Rabbit hunting.

Hana looks at the rabbit.  She's angry.  Caravaggio hasn't been around 
for a week.


60*.	INT.  THE MONASTERY.  DOWNSTAIRS CORRIDOR.  DAY.

Hana heads up for the kitchen, then stops as there's a faint CRASH from 
upstairs.


61*.	INT.   THE MONASTERY.   UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR.   DAY.

Hana, the rabbit still in her hands, comes along the corridor to find 
Caravaggio SLUMPED on the floor, retching.  The discarded NEEDLE lies 
beside him, the new package of MORPHINE CAPSULES ripped open.  He looks 
up at Hanna, glazed.

			HANA
		I could help you.  I could
		get you off that.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Can you cook the rabbit or will you
		try and bring that back to life?

She bends, starts clearing up, putting the morphine phials back into 
the box.

			HANA
		It's a week.  We didn't know where you
		were - or if you coming back, or -

			CARAVAGGIO
				(of the drugs)
		You should be happy.  What were you
		going to do for him when it ran out?

He pulls out more phials from his jacket.

			HANA
		What do you do?  What are you doing here?

			CARAVAGGIO
		Some gave me a dress.
				(starts to tear at a parcel)
		You know what's great?  What I'm learning?
		You win a war and you not only gain the
		miles you get the moral ground.
		Everywhere I go, we're in the right.
		I like that.


62*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Hana comes in, carrying a batch of the new morphine.  She's wearing a 
different FROCK.  It's not new, and it's faded, but the change of color 
is startling.

			THE PATIENT
		Something smells so rich.  My
		stomach is heaving -

			HANA
		He came back, he says he caught a
		rabbit.  I'm cooking it.

			THE PATIENT
		That's a different dress.

			HANA
		He keeps asking me questions about you.
		Do you know him?  Do you recognize him?

			THE PATIENT
		Do I recognize him?  I recognize what he is.
		I like him.  He's Canadian.  He can read
		Italian.  He can catch rabbits.


63*.	EXT.    BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    DUSK.

Almásy squats with an ANCIENT ARAB outside his rudimentary house, while 
he draws on the sand, talking in some arcane dialect, scratching out a 
possible location for the lost oasis.  The man stops speaking and 
scours the sky a beat or two before we or Almasy hear the faint noise 
of a PLANE.  It's Clifton's Steerman, Rupert Bear, coming in to land.  
Almasy doesn't look up.

The Arab continues to talk.  The newly-arrived Katharine has scrambled 
up the hill to speak to Almásy.

			KATHARINE
				(diffident)
		Hello.  Not to interrupt but
		we're celebrating.

She makes to leave but Almásy puts up a hand to keep Katharine there, 
but quiet.

			ALMÁSY
		This is an incredible story - about a man
		hunting an Ostrich, he's been telling me
		about Zerzura, he thinks he's been there,
		but his map, the route he's describing,
		he couldn't survive the journey now, but
		he's a poet, so his map is poetry - and
		now we're onto an Ostrich.
				(to the Arab in ARABIC)
		I'm telling her your map is poetry.

The Arab shrugs.

			KATHARINE
		What do you mean, poetry?

			ALMÁSY
		A mountain curved like a woman's back, 
		a plateau the shape of an ear.

			KATHARINE
		Sounds perfectly clear.  Where does
		the Ostrich come in?

			ALMÁSY
		The Ostrich is a detour.  A poor man hunts
		an ostrich, it's the method.  Nothing to do
		with Zerzura.  To catch an ostrich you must
		appear not to move.  The man finds a place
		where the ostrich feeds, a wadi, and stands
		where the ostrich can see him, on the
		horizon, and doesn't move, doesn't eat -
		otherwise the ostrich will run.  At nightfall,
		he moves, fifty, sixty yards.  When the
		ostrich comes the next day, the man is
		there, but he's nearer.
				(to the guide)
		Haunting the ostrich.

The Guide speaks, amplifying something, picking at his robe.

			ALMÁSY
		Yes, the ostrich, it will feed a family,
		not just the meat, but by selling the 
		feathers, beak, the skin, a year from
		this one animal.  So, each day the
		man gets closer.  And the ostrich is
		not sure - has something changed? -
		now the standing man is only a few
		yards from where it feeds.  And then
		one day, the man is in the wadi, in
		the water.  And the Ostrich comes, as
		always, dips into the water and the
		man JUMPS UP - and captures it.

He shrugs.  The Arab has more to say.  Almásy doesn't respond, quieting 
him with a dismissive gesture.

			KATHARINE
		What is he saying?
				(Almasy, awkward, shakes his head)
		Come on, what did he say?

			ALMÁSY
		He said - be careful.

			KATHARINE
		Be careful?  You mean you - or me?  Who?

			ALMÁSY
				(to the Arab)
		Her or me?

The Arab speaks again.  Almasy speaks without looking at her.

			ALMÁSY
		The one who appears not to be moving.


64*.	INT.    TENT.   BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.   NIGHT.

Katharine comes in.  Then, a beat, and Almásy.  Clifton is holding up 
the champagne.  

			CLIFTON
		Gentlemen, to Zerzura.

			ALL
		Zerzura.

			MADOX
		And a special thank you to Geoffrey
		and Katharine, without whose
		fund-raising heroics we should 
		still be kicking our heels.

They toast the Cliftons.

			CLIFTON
		To arm-twisting.

			MADOX
				(to Almásy)
		Did Katharine say? - 
		Geoffrey has to fly back to Cairo.

			CLIFTON
		Have to return the favor - take a few
		photographs for the army.

			KATHARINE
		Darling, Peter says I could stay...

			MADOX
				(checking with Almásy)
		Why not?

			ALMÁSY
		What kind of photographs?

			CLIFTON
		Portraits.  The Brigadier, the Brigadier's
		wife, the Brigadier's dogs, the Brigadier
		at the Pyramids, the Brigadier breathing.

			KATHARINE
				(to Clifton)
		Why do you think?  About my staying?

			CLIFTON
		Well look, if nobody minds, truly, then
		I suppose - I shall, of course, be bereft...

			KATHARINE
				(playfully poking his ribs)
		Oh.

			CLIFTON
		But finally able to explore the Cairo
		night-life.  I shall produce an
		authoritative guide to the Zinc Bars
		and - I want to say Harems - am I in
		the right country for Harems?


65*.	EXT.     BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.    MORNING.

As Clifton prepares to leave in the Steerman, Almásy approaches.

			ALMÁSY
		Safe journey.

			CLIFTON
		You too.  Good luck!

			ALMÁSY
		Clifton - your wife - do you think
		it's appropriate to leave her?

			CLIFTON
		Appropriate?

			ALMÁSY
		I think the desert is, it's - for a
		woman - it's very tough, I wonder 
		if it's not too much for her.

			CLIFTON
		Are you mad?  Katharine loves it
		here. She told me yesterday.

			ALMÁSY
		All the same, I, were I you I would
		be concerned -

			CLIFTON
		I've known Katharine since she was
		three, my aunt is her aunt, 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's know herself.

			ALMÁSY
		Very well.

			CLIFTON
				(laughing it off)
		Why are you people so threatened 
		by a woman?!

He settles into the controls.  Almásy watches the plane taxi away.  
Doesn't move at all.  Katharine waves from the tent as the Steerman 
takes off.


65a*.	EXT.    BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.

The THREE FORD CARS leave the campsite, loaded for a scouting 
expedition.  The rest of the party, Bedouin, tents, camels and Tiger 
Moth is left behind.  Madox shouts last-minute instructions from the 
window of his car.


66*.	EXT.    DESERT EN ROUTE TO CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    DAY.

FENELON-BARNES sits astride his camel, and wipes away the sweat.  The 
desert stretches for miles, shimmering, the sun baking the sand.  His 
GUIDES wind their headcloths tighter.  Nobody speaks.  Then one of them 
looks round, raises a hand.  A BUZZING noise.  They all turn.  A SMALL 
CLOUD OF DUST EMERGES OVER A RIDGE.  Locusts?  A sandstorm?

A CARAVAN OF CARS, the Almásy/Madox expedition, bumps along, 
suspensions threatened by the constant dips and ridges.  On each car 
there are three in the passenger cabin, the open backs crammed with 
drums of gasoline and water and equipment.  On the front vehicle, the 
tenth member of the party, KAMAL, acts as a navigator and sits on a 
CAMEL SADDLE, a rodeo cowboy, on the roof of the leading car, driven by 
Madox.  As they spot FENELON-BARNES they sound their horns and wave 
good-naturedly.  F-B scowls, watches them roar by, stealing his 
thunder.


66a*.	EXT.  DESERT EN ROUTE TO CAVE OF SWIMMERS.   DAY.

ONE OF THE CARS IS HOPELESSLY BOGGED DOWN IN HEAVY SAND.  It's contents 
have been unloaded, and a rope ladder is being inserted under the 
tires.  The entire company huff and puff and argue about the best means 
of extricating the vehicle.


67*.	INT.    CAR EN ROUTE TO CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    DAY.

LATER - Almásy drives the second car, accompanied by Katharine and Al 
Auf.  Katharine breaks the long silence.

			KATHARINE
		I've been thinking about - how does
		somebody like you decide to come to
		the desert?  What is it?  You're doing
		whatever you're doing - in your castle,
		or wherever it is you live, and one day,
		you say, I have to go to the desert - or what?

Almásy doesn't answer.  Katharine, who has looked at him for an answer, 
looks away.  There's another long silence.

			ALMÁSY
		I once traveled with a terrific 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!

Point made, they lapse again into silence.  Katharine boils.

			KATHARINE
		Actually, you sing.

			ALMÁSY
		Pardon?

			KATHARINE
		You sing.  All the time.

			ALMÁSY
		I do not.

			KATHARINE
		Ask Al Auf.

Almásy asks Al Auf in Arabic.  He laughs, nods.

			KATHARINE
				(sings wickedly)
		I'll be down to get you in the taxi,
		honey, you'd better be ready about
		half-past eight...!

Al Auf nods and grins furiously, joins in, impersonating Almásy.  
Almásy grunts in irritation.


68*.	EXT.  NEAR THE BASECAMP AT THE CAVE OF SWIMMERS.  DUSK.

The group is investigating a cleft in the rocky massif.  They climb 
slowly.  Below them, A NEW AND TEMPORARY BASE CAMP.

The group winds around the rock.  Almásy turns to offer a hand to 
Katharine behind him, pulling her up to the next rock slab.  She smiles 
at him.  He smiles back curtly, continues.

The group stops at a level plateau.  The Arabs stand apart and SING 
THEIR PRAYERS AT DUSK.  Al Auf leads the incantations.

			AL AUF
		Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar...

The westerners wait respectfully.  As the sun sets in glory, Almásy 
looks over at the range of rocks.  One particular range seems to look 
exactly like A WOMAN'S BACK.  He squints at the rock.  Almásy 
discreetly pulls out his COMPASS.


69*.	EXT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    DUSK.

Almásy clambers up the rocks, coming through a narrow crevice to find A 
NATURAL SHELF.  He scrambles up this path, reaching up, only to notice 
that his hand almost perfectly covers A PAINTED HAND on the rock, and 
as he digests this he realizes he has climbed past what is THE MOUTH OF 
A CAVE.  He disappears inside.


70	INT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    FLASHLIGHT.

A FLASHLIGHT squirts into the cave.  Almásy treads cautiously along the 
narrow winding passage.  He comes to an open cavern and takes his 
flashlight up to a wall.  PAINTINGS EMERGE, figures, animals,  ancient 
pictures.  A giraffe.  Cattle.  Fish.  Men with bows and arrows.  
Almásy is astonished by what he sees.


71*.	EXT.    NEAR THE CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    EVENING.

The others watch as a flashlight bobs and jerks among the rocks as 
Almásy comes scrambling down, transformed into an excited teenager.

			ALMÁSY
		Madox!  Madox!

He slithers in a heap in front of the astonished expedition party.  
Doesn't care.


72	INT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    FLASHLIGHT.

Almásy has led the whole party into the heart of the cave.  Now Madox 
comes alongside him at the wall, his flashlight joining Almásy's and 
increasing the visibility of the paintings.  A dark-skinned figure, 
apparently in the process of DIVING into water, comes clearly into 
view.  Then others supine, arms outstretched.

			MADOX
				(with audible excitement)
		My God, they're swimming!

The others crowd round.  FIVE EXCITED FACES IN THE GREEN GLOOM OF THE 
CAVE.


73*.	EXT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    DAY.

A hive of activity.  The team has set up TRESTLES to catalogue the 
finds as the Bedouin come out with baskets of detritus, which they 
empty onto a growing heap as the Cave is cleared out.  Entering the 
cave, Almásy passes with camera equipment, just as D'Ag emerges 
carrying the corpse of a perfectly preserved DESERT FOX.  D'Ag gestures 
to Almasy with his customary enthusiasm, holding up the body of the 
fox.

			D'AGOSTINO
		Have you seen this?  Astonishing.
		Perfectly preserved.


74	INT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    DAY.

Inside, Bermann is setting up LAMPS, running wires from a car BATTERY.  
Kamal is helping him.  And as Almásy arrives he catches a tiny moment 
of tenderness between them.  Bermann, seeing him, quickly disengages 
and busies himself with the lights.  At another wall, Katharine is 
catching.


75	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DAY.

The CARS are heading back to Basecamp.  They bounce over the sand.


76*.	INT.    BERMANN'S CAR.    DAY.

Bermann is driving the lead CAR along some STEEP DUNES.  Almásy beside 
him.  Bermann is peeling AN ORANGE, a segment of which he holds out of 
the window.  Kamal, riding shotgun, leans down and collects it, his 
head dipping in to grin at Bermann.  Bermann looks uneasily as Almásy.  
He wants to tell him of his passion, of his absolute love for Kamal, 
but he daren't.

			BERMANN
		I love the desert, you see.  That's my,
		that's my - I can't think of the word.
				(Almásy nods)
		How do you explain?  To someone who's
		never been here?  Feelings which seem
		quite normal.

			ALMÁSY
				(compassionate)
		I don't know, my friend.  I don't know.

Bermann holds out another segment of the orange, and watches the slim 
brown hand collect it.  A MOMENTARY DISTRACTION IS ALL IT TAKES FOR HIM 
TO MISJUDGE THE LINE AND SUDDENLY THE DUNE COLLAPSES UNDER THE TIRE AND 
THE CAR LURCHES SIDEWAYS AND TOPPLES OVER THE EDGE.  D'Ag - following, 
Fouad beside him - brakes sharply, but can't stop his own car from 
being caught in the avalanche of sand, and IT PLUNGES DOWN THE DUNE AND 
INTO BERMANN'S UPTURNED CAR WITH AN OMINOUS CRUNCH, the radiator 
exploding.  Only Madox, Katharine beside him, and a little way behind, 
manages to stay clear of the trouble.  He jumps out of the vehicle and 
slides down the dune to find pandemonium as the passengers stumble out 
of the cars, sand flying, smoke pouring from the upright vehicle, the 
wheels of the overturned car spinning wildly in the air, a puddle of 
oil spreading ominously.


77*.	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DAY.
 
LATER and the group have cleaned up as best as possible.  D'Ag, 
Bermann, and Fouad are a little worse for wear.  Fouad's arm is in a 
sling, and D'Ag is sporting a bloody head-bandage.  Bermann has broken 
a finger and is being attended to by Madox.  The luggage, water and 
petrol have been stacked up and the men are loading up the remaining 
car.  Almásy is working at the crumpled end of the vehicle.  He's 
having no success.


78*.	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DAY.

Almásy, Kamal and two of the other young Bedouin stand around the mess 
of the two broken vehicles.  The ONE WORKING CAR is loaded with men and 
provisions.  Katharine sits inside, next to Madox, Almásy comes over to 
her window, to speak past her to Madox.

			MADOX
		I'll be back as quick as I can.  
		Thirty-six hours at the outside.

			ALMÁSY
		Try to get a second radiator, we'll bury
		it between here and the Pottery Hill.
		And a better jack.  We planned badly.

			MADOX
				(nods at Almásy, then shouts over 
to the wrecked vehicles)
		Bermann!

This is Bermann's cue to take leave of Kamal who is staying behind.  
Kamal makes a little bow.

			KAMAL
		May God make safety your companion.

Bermann nods and hurries away, squeezing into the car which jolts off, 
bouncing over the track.

THE VEHICLE GETS ABOUT TWENTY YARDS, ALMASY WATCHING, BEFORE IT SINKS 
FORLORNLY INTO THE SOFT SAND.  IT'S HOPELESSLY OVERLOADED WITH PEOPLE.  
THEY ALL GET OUT.

			KATHARINE
		I shall stay behind, of course

			MADOX
		Certainly not.

			KATHARINE
		I insist.  There clearly isn't room for
		us all, I'm the least able to dig, and 
		I'm not one of the walking wounded.
		Those are facts.  Besides, if I remain
		it's the most effective method of
		persuading my husband to abandon
		whatever he's doing and rescue us.

It's hard to argue with this logic.  Almásy shrugs.

LATER - THE MADOX CAR makes a more effective departure.  And Almasy and 
Katharine are left alone.  THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER as if realizing this 
for the first time.  Almasy immediately returns to the two damaged 
vehicles and helps the men stretch the cut canvas which was once a tent 
TO FASHION A MAKESHIFT SHELTER BETWEEN THE TWO CARS.  Katharine goes to 
join them.  There is no obstacle to the remorseless horizon, just miles 
of undulating dunes.


79	INT.    SHELTER.    DAY.

Almásy sits alone, writing into HIS HERODOTUS, a map folded in front of 
him, from which he makes notes.  Katherine comes across with a clutch 
of her SKETCHES from the Cave wall.  Hands them to him.  They're 
beautiful.

			ALMÁSY
		What's this?

			KATHARINE
		I thought you might paste them
		into your book.

			ALMÁSY
		We took several photographs,
		there's no need.

			KATHARINE
		I'd like you to have them.

			ALMÁSY
				(handing them back)
		There's really no need.  This is
		just a scrapbook.  I should feel
		obliged.  Thank you.

			KATHARINE
				(exasperated)
		And that would be unconscionable,
		I suppose, to feel any obligation?  
		Yes.  Of course it would.

She's already turning, walking as far from him as the cramped shelter 
permits.  He continues with his maps.


80	EXT.    THE DESERT.    NIGHT.

Katharine sits alone on top of the Dune, smoking, surveying the 
landscape.  Below her the makeshift camp - a fresh wind flicking at the 
tarpaulin, THE DEEP TRACKS OF MADOX'S CAR STRETCHING OFF TOWARDS 
CIVILIZATION.  Almásy emerges from the tent and, locating Katharine, 
heads towards her.

			ALMÁSY
		You should come into the shelter.

			KATHARINE
		I'm quite all right, thank you.

			ALMÁSY
		Look over there.

Katharine turns, scans the horizon.

			KATHARINE
		What am I looking at?

			ALMÁSY
		See what's happening to them -
		the stars.

			KATHARINE
		They're so untidy.  I'm just trying 
		to rearrange them.

			ALMÁSY
		In an hour there will be no stars.
		The air is filling with sand.

He offers a hand.  A little reluctantly she takes it.


81	EXT.    SHELTER.    NIGHT.

The team hurries around the improvised tent, weighing it down with 
packing cases, gasoline drums, water cans, bringing anything loose or 
light inside the tarpaulin.  THE WIND is whipping up, the air busy with 
sand.  Almásy pushes everyone under cover.


82	INT.    SHELTER.    NIGHT.

THE SAND SEEMS TO BE SCOURING THE TARPAULIN.  Kamal and Almásy try to 
secure one vulnerable area, but suddenly there are leaks everywhere and 
the sand swarms inside.

It's noisy, too, and Almásy has to shout to make himself understood, 
indicating to the Bedouin to grab water and blankets and food, all the 
valuables, and get out.  He himself finds blankets and water and shouts 
at Katharine to do the same.  One side of the canvas suddenly RIPS 
apart like paper. Chaos as figures struggle in ever-worsening 
conditions, sand blizzarding the air.


83	EXT.    SHELTER.    NIGHT.

THE SHELTER FLIES INTO THE AIR, stranding the figures, their heads 
wrapped in blankets, flashlights useless.  They seek safety in two 
groups, the tribesmen to the cabin of the overturned car, Katharine and 
Almásy to the upright one.


84	INT.    CAR.    NIGHT.

Inside the cabin, the sand swirling around them, Katharine and Almásy 
sit without speaking.  Dawn is trying to break through.  He pours a 
little water into a mug so that they can wash out their eyes and noses 
and mouths.  She takes her silk scarf and first dries her eyes with it, 
then dries his.

			KATHARINE
		This is not very good, is it?

			ALMÁSY
		No.

			KATHARINE
		Shall we be all right?

			ALMÁSY
		Yes.  Absolutely.

			KATHARINE
		Yes is a comfort.  Absolutely is not.


85	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DAWN.

The sand is piling up against the two cars, the tent is swept from its 
moorings, the water cans are hurled up too, and then plunge ominously 
into sand drifts as if going under an ocean.

			ALMÁSY (O/S)
		...let me tell you about winds.  There
		is a whirlwind in Southern Morocco, the 
		Aajej, against which the fellahin defend
		themselves with knives.  The Ghibli from
		Tunis rolls and rolls and produces a 
		rather strange nervous condition...

And we hear Katharine's laugh.


86	INT.    CAR.    DAWN.

Almasy sits alongside Katharine, whose head is against his shoulder.  
He continues his story of winds.

			ALMÁSY
		#NAME?
		Which Mariners called the sea of
		darkness.  Red sand from this wind
		has flown as far as the south coast
		of England, producing showers so
		dense they were mistaken for blood.

Almasy checks to see if Katharine is still awake.

			KATHARINE
		Fiction.  We had a house on that coast
		and it never rained blood.  Go on.  More.

			ALMÁSY
		All true.  Herodotus, your friend, tells
		of a wind - the Simoon - so evil that a
		nation declared war on it and marched
		out to fight it in full battle dress, 
		their swords raised.


87*.	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DAY.

MORNING.  The sand has almost COMPLETELY ENGULFED the car on the 
exposed side, covering the windshield like snow, and encroaching onto 
the door of the protected flank.


88*.	INT.    CAR.    DAY.

Almásy is woken by sound of A DISTANT ENGINE.  He jerks up, waking 
Katharine in the process, and heaves against the door.  He can't open 
it, and has to lean his feet against the passenger door, lying across 
Katharine, kicking it open.


89*.	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DAY.

By the time Almásy emerges from the car, the sand pouring into the 
cabin, MADOX'S CAR IS ROARING ALONG THE HORIZON.  Almásy waves, shouts, 
and then runs back into the car, finds his flare-gun, and SENDS A FLARE 
high into the sky.  Katharine is with him now, and they watch, 
helplessly, as the car bounces away from them, Madox a man on a 
mission.  Katharine panics, THE SAND HAS ERASED ALL TRACES OF THEM.  
She speaks quietly, shocked.

			KATHARINE
		Our tracks, where are they?

Almásy is preoccupied.  He's gone back to their vehicle and returns 
with a shovel, STARTS TO DIG FRANTICALLY.

			ALMÁSY
		Madox will have calculated how many
		miles, they'll soon turn around.

			KATHARINE
				(realizing what he's doing)
		Oh my God, the others!

She kneels with him and helps to shovel away the sand WHICH HAS 
COMPLETELY ENGULFED THE OTHER VEHICLE containing the three Bedouin.

			ALMÁSY
				(during this)
		Could I ask you, please, to paste you
		paintings into my book?  I should like
		to have them.  I should be honored.

			KATHARINE
		Of course.  Is it, am I a terrible
		coward to ask how much water we have?

			ALMÁSY
				(shoveling hard)
		Water?  Yes, we have water, we have
		a little in our can, we have water in
		the radiator which can be drunk.  Not
		at all cowardly, extremely practical.
				(anxious at not uncovering
the boys, egging himself on)
		Come on, come on!
				(then back to Katharine)
		There's also a plant - I've never seen
		it but I'm told you can cut a piece the
		size of a heart from this plant and
		the next day it will be filled with a
		delicious liquid.

			KATHARINE
		Find that plant.  Cut out its heart.

They hear NOISES, scrabbling, faint thumps.  Almásy scrapes at the sand 
and they find the glass of the car.  The angle of the cab, tilted up to 
the sky, has made it impossible for the trapped boys to lever it open.  
Their oxygen is rapidly deteriorating.  Almásy pulls the door and it 
cranks open.


90*.	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DAY.

Katharine sits in the car, putting her pictures into the Herodotus.  
It's full of ALMÁSY'S HANDWRITING, PHOTOGRAPHS, SOME PRESSED FLOWERS.  
She deciphers a page of his words and drawings.  It's almost 
exclusively about her, the lines studded with K.s.  She reads, 
astonished, then looks at him as he and two of the three Bedouin circle 
the area of the cars in ever-widening circles, like water-diviners, 
like Kip searches for mines.  Kamal is slumped against the front of the 
car.  He's sick.  Almásy suddenly drops to his knees and begins to 
shovel into the sand.  He pulls out A CAN OF WATER.  Turns to Katharine 
and holds it triumphantly in the air.


91*.	INT.    THE DESERT.    NIGHT.

There's a small, weak fire.  The group crouch around it.  The boys talk 
noisily to Almásy.  Kamal is wrapped in a blanket and shivering.  
Almásy gives him water, speaks to Katherine.

			ALMÁSY
		Kamal is passing blood.  He must have
		had some internal damage in the crash.
		He needs medicine.  I think we must risk
		the other flare.

He gets up and loads the flare with what is clearly the last charge.  
This time the effect is dramatic with A RED UMBRELLA OF LIGHT.  
Katharine comes up beside him.  They wait, hope fading with the flare.

			KATHARINE
				(blank)
		Geoffrey's not in Cairo.
				(Almásy looks at her)
		He's not actually a buffoon.  And
		the plane wasn't a wedding
		present.  It belongs to the British
		Government.  They want aerial
		maps of the whole North Africa.
		So I think he's in Ethiopia.  In
		case you were counting on his 
		sudden appearance.

			ALMÁSY
		And the marriage - is that a fiction?

There's a beat.  Katharine has a hundred answers.

			KATHARINE
		No, the marriage isn't a fiction.

The light from the flare fades on them and they stand in the dark.  
Suddenly on the far horizon, behind their heads, AN ANSWERING FLARE 
fireworks into the sky.

			KATHARINE
		Thank God.  Oh, thank God.

There's excited shouting from the two fit boys.  They leap up and run 
towards the couple, who meanwhile have realized that the flare has not 
come from Madox, but from an approaching CAMEL CARAVAN.  Almásy shouts 
to the boys for some identification.

			KATHARINE
		Do they know them?

			ALMÁSY
				(squinting at the horizon)
		No, but I think I do.

The Caravan slowly comes into focus.  IT'S FENELON-BARNES.  Katharine 
touches Almásy's arm - an almost imperceptible gesture.

			KATHARINE
		Am I K. in your book?  
		I think I must be.

Almásy turns to her.  He runs the blade of his arm across her neck - 
the sweat leaving a clear stripe.

Fenelon-Barnes approaches, dismounts from his camel, and addresses 
Almásy.

			FENELON-BARNES
		I recollect your saying to ignore
		your bones but I assume you have
		no objection to my rescuing your
		companion?
				(to Katharine)
		Good evening, Mrs. Clifton.

			KATHARINE
				(accepting his handshake)
		Hello.

			FENELON-BARNES
		I'd like to introduce you to my camel -
		the most notable beast on earth.
				(to Almásy)
		I understand you found some
		remarkable caves.

A goatskin bag of water is offered to Katharine.  She drinks and hands 
it to Almásy.

			FENELON-BARNES
		Paintings of swimmers?  Remarkable.


92	EXT.    CAIRO.    DAY.

ANOTHER WORLD as a honking TAXI containing Almásy and Katharine 
negotiates the incredible bustle of Cairo.


93	EXT.    SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL.    DAY.

Almásy, still in the same clothes, and evidently weary, emerges from 
the cab, and pulls Katharine's belongings from the trunk, then holds 
open the door for her.  As she walks towards the hotel, he hands her 
bag to a porter.  Katharine is stung.

			KATHARINE
		Will you not come in?

			ALMÁSY
		No.

			KATHARINE
		Will you please come in?

			ALMÁSY
				(a beat)
		Mrs. Clifton -

	Katharine turns, disgusted.

			KATHARINE
		Don't.  

			ALMÁSY
		I believe you still have my book.

Katharine fishes the book from her knapsack, shoves it at him, then 
disappears.


94	INT.    ALMÁSY'S ROOM.    DAY.

Almásy lying on a camp bed, face down.  The walls are covered with 
maps, enlargements of photographs.  A fan whirs over his kit which is 
spread, unraveled but ordered, on the stone floor.  An ineffably male 
room, the shutters closed, just the thinnest shaft of light piercing 
the gloom.  Almásy hasn't even removed his clothes, his boots kicked 
off below his jutting feet.  

There's A KNOCK at the door.  Almásy sleeps.  Another.  A third.  He's 
roused from the dead.  Stumbles to his feet, opens the door as the 
knocking continues.

It's Katharine.  She's bathed, luminous, stands back-lit by the 
afternoon sun - an angel in a cotton dress.  She walks past him into 
the room.  He closes the door.  She turns.  He KNEELS before her, head 
at her thighs.  She's crying, her face expressionless as her hands go 
to his head.

			KATHARINE
		You still have sand in your hair.

She starts to BEAT on his head and shoulders, violently.  He pulls 
back, to look at her, the tears streaming down her face.  She kneels 
and covers his face with kisses.  He pulls blindly at her dress and it 
RIPS across her breasts.


95*.	INT.    BATHROOM.    DAY.

Almásy is in the bath.  Katharine, wearing his dressing gown, pours in 
a jug of steaming water.  Almásy leans over the rim of the bath.  He's 
sewing, carefully repairing the torn dress.

			KATHARINE
		I'm impressed you can sew.

			ALMÁSY
		Good.

			KATHARINE
		You sew very badly.

			ALMÁSY
		You don't sew at all!

			KATHARINE
		A woman should never learn to sew,
		and if she can she should never
		admit to it.  Close your eyes.

			ALMÁSY
				(laughs)
		That makes it harder still.

She pushes the sewing from his hands, then pours water over his head, 
then begins to shampoo his hair.

Almásy is in heaven.  The biggest smile we have seen from him.  She 
continues to massage his scalp.

			ALMÁSY
		When were you most happy?

			KATHARINE
		Now.

			ALMÁSY
		When were you least happy?

			KATHARINE
				(a beat)
		Now.

			ALMÁSY
		Okay.  And what do you love?
		Say everything.

			KATHARINE
		What do I love?  I love rice pudding,
		and water, the fish in it, hedgehogs!
		The gardens at our house in Freshwater -
		all my secret paths.

She rinses his scalp, then slips off the robe and CLIMBS IN BESIDE HIM, 
covering his neck and shoulders in kisses.

			ALMÁSY
		What else?

			KATHARINE
		Marmite - addicted!  Baths - not
		with other people!  Islands.  Your
		handwriting.  I could go on all day.
				(a beat)
		My husband.

	Almásy nods.

			ALMÁSY
		What do you hate most?

			KATHARINE
		A lie.  What do you hate most?

			ALMÁSY
		Ownership.  Being owned.  When
		you leave, you should forget me.

She freezes, pulls herself away, out of the bath, looks at him, then 
SLAPS HIM VERY HARD across the face.

She picks up her dress, the thread and needle dangling from it, and 
walks, dripping, out of the room.


96*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

To the Patient it's as if Katharine is walking out of his wall.  He 
sighs with pain, then looks away to where Hana has fallen asleep on the 
bed, almost on top of him.  He touches her.   He speaks as if each word 
burns him.

			THE PATIENT
		Could I ask you to move?  I'm sorry -
		but when you turn, the sheets, I can't
		really bear the sheets moving over me.  
		Sorry.

			HANA
				(mortified, moving quickly)
		Yes, of course, I'm so sorry.
		Stupid of me.

	Hana gets up, upset to have hurt him.

			HANA
		I'm so sorry.


97*.	INT.    THE MONASTERY KITCHEN.    NIGHT.

Hana comes to the table, carrying a jug of water and a bowl.   She's 
still sad.  She unbuttons her dress, pulling it off her shoulder, 
begins to pour the water to cool herself against the night's pressing 
heat.


98*.	EXT.    EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL.   1944.    LATE DAY.

The EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL is a cluster of tents practically ahead of 
the Front Line SPORADIC GUN FIRE, LIGHT AND HEAVY, SOUNDS THROUGHOUT.  
Mary walks by on her way to the Nurse's tent.  It's 1944 and the war in 
Italy is still intense.


99	INT.    EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL TENT.    LATE DAY.

JAN is washing out of her HELMET, and stands naked in her socks.  Hana 
is using a flannel to wash Jan's back.  A couple of other girls like, 
exhausted, on their cots.  The mud is everywhere.  Another nurse is 
making tea out of an adapted plasma can on their tiny primus.

MARY comes in and flops down.  She's GIVEN BLOOD and is pale and 
enervated.

			MARY
		Okay, Type Os, the vampires wait.
		Everybody's giving a pint.

			JAN
		Ugh!  If they were sucking it out
		I wouldn't mind.  It's the needle
		I can't stand.

			HANA
				(laughing)
		You're a nurse - how ca you be
		frightened of needles!


100	INT.  TRIAGE TENT, EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL.  NIGHT.

Hana walks through the main TRIAGE TENT.  It's packed with the ruined 
bodies of the injured, swaddled in bloody bandages.  Hana stops at a 
couple of beds, shares a word or two with the patients.  She stops at 
another bed, leans over its occupant.  His bandaged face is bloated and 
yellow.  He's not breathing.  She bends over him, his open eyes fixed 
in a glassy stare.  No pulse.  She snaps the triangular cardboard ID 
from his bed to indicate HE'S DIED.  Then tenderly closes his eyes.  
THEY SUDDENLY SNAP OPEN.  HE REARS UP, GRABBING HER.

			WOUNDED SOLDIER
		Can't wait to have me dead?  You bitch!

He slaps her hand away.  Slaps at the tubes going into his arm.  Hana 
is absolutely shocked.  But just as suddenly he's sunk back into semi-
consciousness.

Shaken, she sits by him and takes his hand, he pulls it away, she takes 
it again.  He is in terrible pain.  His face creased with anger.  Now 
his hand is clutching at hers.  She tries to soothe him.

			HANA
		Try t be calm.  Ssssshhh.  Come on.
		Be calm now.  Ssshhhh.  Be peaceful.
		It's okay.  It's okay.

HIS FACE STILLS.  HIS HAND LOOSENS.  Now he has gone.  As Hana inspects 
him, a shell seems to land close by.  THE LIGHTS FLICKER.  She ducks, 
along with everyone else.

Below the bed, on slatboards, above the mud, are the now dead soldier's 
possessions.  They include A PAIR OF TENNIS SHOES.


101	INT.  TRIAGE TENT, EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL.  EVENING.

HANA, WEARING THE TENNIS SHOES, IS GIVING BLOOD.  She lies in a cot, 
next to JAN.  The shelling sounds closer.

OLIVER, the Doctor, is working on the most recent patient, a young 
CANADIAN Boy who is critically ill - the tubes hanging above him, of 
plasma and of blood.  The curtain drawn around him is pulled back, to 
reveal the two nurses in the background.  The Soldier can just see 
them.  He's going to die any minute.  

			CANADIAN SOLDIER
				(whispering to Oliver)
		Is there anybody here from Picton?

			OLIVER
		Picton?  I don't know.

			CANADIAN SOLDIER
		I'd like to see somebody from home
		before I go.

Hana can only really hear Oliver's end of this conversation, but the 
mention of Canada chills her, and she knows, now, not later, that 
Stuart is dead.

			HANA 
				(to Oliver)
		Why Picton?

			OLIVER
		He's from there - edge of Lake
		Ontario right, Soldier?

The boy nods.

			JAN 
				(innocent)
		Where's your Stuart from?
		Somewhere near there, isn't it?

			HANA
				(to Oliver)
		As him what company he's with?

Oliver leans over, then turns to Hana.

			OLIVER
		Third Canadian Fusiliers.

			HANA
		Does he know a Captain McGann?

The boy hears this, whispers to Oliver.

			CANADIAN SOLDIER
		He bought it.  Yesterday.  Shot to bits.

The shells are getting closer.

			HANA
		What did he say?

			OLIVER
				(can't look at her)
		Doesn't know him.

A SHELL SUDDENLY LANDS ON TOP OF THE SITE, PERHAPS FIFTY YARDS FROM THE 
TENT.  THE LIGHTS GO OUT.  THEN ANOTHER LANDS.

Everybody is on the floor, struggling to get on a helmet.

Hana lies down, the blood still leaving her, her helmet on.  Oliver is 
next to her in the mud.  Her heart is breaking.

			HANA
		He's gone, hasn't he?

			OLIVER
		No.  He's - no.

			HANA
		Oh God.  Oh God.

The shells pound them, incredibly loud, drowning out her grief, but 
each explosion illuminates it for a moment.


102	INT.    THE MONASTERY KITCHEN.    NIGHT.

Caravaggio comes into the kitchen.  Hana is slumped at the table, her 
back naked.  The jug of water in front of her.  She's sobbing, her 
shoulders heaving.  Caravaggio approaches tentatively.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Hana?
				(he touches her shoulder)
		Hana?  Are you alright?

			HANA
				(without raising her head)
		Don't touch me if you're going to
		try and fuck me.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(soothing)
		I'll have some of your water.  It's hot.

She reaches for her blouse, wraps it around herself.  Her face is read 
with weeping.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(gently)
		You have to protect yourself from 
		sadness.  This is the thing I've learned.
				(drinking the water)
		You're in love with him, aren't you?
		Your patient.  Do you think he's a saint
		or something?  Because of the way he 
		looks?  I don't think he is.

			HANA
		I'm not in love with him.  I'm in love
		with ghosts.  And so is he.  He's in
		love with ghosts.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Who are his ghosts?

			HANA
		Ask him.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(he holds up his hands)
		What if I told you he did this to me?

			HANA
				(stung)
		What?  How could he have?  When?

			CARAVAGGIO
		I'm one of his ghosts and he wouldn't
		even know.  It's like he slammed a
		door in Cairo and it trapped my 
		fucking hands in Tobruk.

			HANA
		I don't know what that means.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(shrugs)
		Ask him.  Ask your saint who he is.
		Ask him who he's killed.

			HANA
				(furious)
		Please don't creep around this house.


103*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Hana sits reading from the Herodotus.  She shows the Patient the page 
where a CHRISTMAS CRACKER WRAPPER covered in handwriting has been glued 
in.

			HANA
		Tell me about this, this is in your
		handwriting - 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...
				(she looks up)
		I love that, I believe that.
				(to him)
		Who is K?

			THE PATIENT
		K is for Katharine.


104	EXT.  AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE, DECEMBER 1938.  DAY.

A CHRISTMAS PARTY FOR THE TROOPS.  The incongruous attempts to create a 
traditional Christmas in the dusty heat of Cairo.  

The Party is in the courtyard of the Moorish Palace which serves as the 
private residence of the British Ambassador, SIR RONNIE HAMPTON.  Lots 
of Wives, including LADY HAMPTON and Katharine help serve tea and cake 
to the SOLDIERS who sit at rudimentary tables with paper plates and 
paper hats.  A man dressed as SANTA CLAUS is giving out presents - 
PENGUIN PAPERBACKS, CHOCOLATE.  Music blares out from a loudspeaker.  
Officers and Civilians walk the parameter.  One of these, arriving, is 
Almasy.  He sits in the shade, catches Katharine's attention.  
Katharine brings him over a cup of tea and a plate with Christmas cake 
on it.

			ALMÁSY
		Say you're sick.

			KATHARINE
		What?  No!

			ALMÁSY
		Say you're feeling faint - the sun.

			KATHARINE
				(but a frisson)
		No.

			ALMÁSY
		I can't work.  I can't sleep.

Lady Hampton calls impatiently.

			LADY HAMPTON
		Katharine!

			KATHARINE
		Coming.
				(to Almásy)
		I can't sleep.  I woke up shouting
		in the middle of the night.  Geoffrey
		thinks it's the thing in the desert,
		the trauma.

			ALMÁSY
		I can still taste you.

			KATHARINE
				(waving at another woman who
pushes a trolley with teapots)
		This is empty, just coming!

			ALMÁSY
		I'm trying to write with your taste
		in my mouth.
				(as she leaves)
		Swoon.  I'll catch you.

Almásy sits watching the party.  The Santa Claus is dragged outside by 
some excited Children.  Almásy picks at his cake removing the thick 
marzipan icing.  He's writing on A CHRISTMAS CRACKER WRAPPER, smoothing 
it out - December 22nd.  Betrayals in war are childlike compared with 
out betrayals du...

Katharine, attending to a raucous table, suddenly sags at the knees, 
and SWOONS.  People rush to her.

			KATHARINE
		I'm fine.  How silly.

			OFFICER'S WIFE
				(helping her to her feet)
		It's the heat.

			LADY HAMPTON
		You should sit down, darling.
				(to the others)
		She's quite all right.
				(escorts Katharine away)
		Are you pregnant?

			KATHARINE
		I don't think so.

			LADY HAMPTON
				(squeezing her arm)
		How romantic.  With Fiona I fell
		over every five minutes.  Ronnie
		Christened me Lady Downfall.

			KATHARINE
		I think I might go inside and sit
		down for a few minutes.

			LADY HAMPTON
		I'll come with you.

			KATHARINE
		No, please.  I shall be absolutely fine.

They pass Almásy, who doesn't look up from his book.


105	INT.  STORE ROOM.  AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE.  DAY.

A small STOREROOM inside the Palace - Brooms, Mops, Cleaning Equipment.  
Outside, the party is visible as opaque shadows through the beveled 
glass of the ornate window.  The sound of carols sung by the enlisted 
men gives way to a version of SILENT NIGHT played on a solitary 
bagpipe.  Inside, ALMÁSY AND KATHARINE MAKE LOVE IN THE DARKNESS.  
Everything is too fast, desperate, standing up, grabbing, hoisting 
clothes.


106	INT.    CORRIDORS.    AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE.    DAY.

A CORRIDOR.  Almásy appears and almost immediately collides with the 
man dressed as SANTA CLAUS.  He moves to one side.  

			CLIFTON
		Have you seen Katharine?

			ALMÁSY
				(taken aback)
		What?

			CLIFTON
		It's Geoffrey under this.

			ALMÁSY
		I haven't, no.  Sorry.


106a*.	INT.    SIDE ROOM IN AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE.    DAY.

Geoffrey continues scouting the warren of tiny rooms that run off the 
central courtyard.  He finds Katharine sitting in one, smoking, 
surrounded by oppressive and elaborate tiling.  Clifton wonders briefly 
how Almásy had missed Katharine.

			CLIFTON
		Darling, I just heard.  You poor
		sausage, are you all right?

			KATHARINE
		I'm fine.  I got hot.

			CLIFTON
		Lady H said she thought you might be -

			KATHARINE
		I'm not pregnant.  I'm hot.  I'm too hot.

			CLIFTON
		Right.

			KATHARINE
		Aren't you?

			CLIFTON
		Sweltering.
				(taking off his hat and beard)
		Come on, I'll take you home.

			KATHARINE
		Can't we really go home?  I can't breathe.
		Aren't you dying for green, anything
		green, or rain, wouldn't you die to feel
		rain on your face?  It's Christmas and 
		it's all - I don't know - if you asked me
		I'd go home tomorrow.  If you wanted.

			CLIFTON
		Sweetheart, you know we can't go
		home, there might be a war.

			KATHARINE
				(poking at his costume)
		Geoffrey, you do so love putting
		on a disguise.

			CLIFTON
		I do so love you.
				(he kisses her head)
		What do you smell of?

			KATHARINE
		What?

			CLIFTON
		Marzipan!  I think you've got marzipan
		in your hair.  No wonder you're homesick.


107*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    EVENING.

The Patient lies alone in his room.  CLIFTON'S FACE stares back at him 
from among the frescoes.  Then something distracts him.

			THE PATIENT
		Are you outside?

A beat and then Caravaggio shuffles in.  Like an old boxer.

			CARAVAGGIO
		I can't hide anymore.
				(jerks up his hands)
		I breathe like a dog.  I lose my
		balance.  Stealing's got harder.

Caravaggio stares at the Herodotus.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Why do I feel if I had your book I
		would know everything?

			THE PATIENT
		I don't even know if it is my book.
		The Bedouin found it in the plane,
		in the wreckage.  It's mine now.  
		I heard your breathing and thought
		it might be rain.  I'm dying for rain -
		of course I'm dying anyway - but I
		long to feel rain on my face.

Caravaggio comes close, scrutinizing the face, trying to repair the 
features.  Exasperated.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Is it you?  If I said Moose... I look
		different, fuck, why shouldn't you?

			THE PATIENT
				(impassive)
		Moose.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(a different tack)
		First wedding anniversary - what
		do you call it?

			THE PATIENT
		I don't know.  Paper.  Is it?  Paper?
				(sharp, not wanting to think)
		I don't remember.


108	INT.    MONASTERY LIBRARY.    DAY.

Hana stands at the PIANO.  It's still lop-sided, propped against the 
wall.  She tries but can't move it.  So she pulls off the dust-sheet 
and, with the instrument still on a tilt, begins to play the Aria from 
Bach's Goldberg Variations.


109	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

HANA'S PIANO CONTINUES.  Upstairs, Caravaggio chats with the Patient 
while working his arms to RAISE A VEIN, a boot-lace tied around it, 
preparing an injection for himself, tapping the syringe.  During this:

			THE PATIENT
		I have come to love that little tap of
		the fingernail against the syringe.  Tap.


110*.	INT.    MONASTERY LIBRARY.    DAY.

Hana plays.  GUN SHOTS punctuates the music.  She's totally engrossed 
and only hears the second or third shot.  Her hands falter, she looks 
up to see A SIKH SOLDIER RUNNING ACROSS THE FIELD WAVING HIS ARMS, his 
REVOLVER held aloft.  He approaches the door, his face creased with 
anxiety, and raps on the shattered frame.  It's KIP.

She gets up and walks past Kip standing at the door, and continues the 
seven or eight feet to the right and out into the garden VIA THE HOLE 
RIPPED OUT OF THE WALL.

			HANA
		Excuse me.  Yes?
				(of the doors)
		I don't have the key to that door.

			KIP
		The Germans were here.  The Germans 
		were all over this area.  They left mines
		everywhere.  Pianos were their favorite
		hiding places.  

			HANA
		I see.
				(then mischievous)
		Then may be you're safe as long as
		you only play Bach.  He's German.

Kip is looking around the piano.  Hana giggles.

			KIP
		Is something funny?

			HANA
		No, but, no, not at all.  I'm sorry.
		You came to the doors, that's all and -
				(a little laugh)
		#NAME?
		worried about mines.  That's all.

			KIP
		I've met you before.

			HANA
		I don't think so.

Hana bends to see what Kip's looking at under the piano.  Wires run 
from the wall to the instrument onto which is taped an EXPLOSIVE 
CHARGE.   If Hana had succeeded in moving the piano she would have 
triggered the charge.  Kip looks at Hana who conceals her dismay with a 
shrug.


110a*.	EXT.    THE MONASTERY GARDEN.    DUSK.

Across from the terrace, HARDY AND KIP ARE PUTTING UP THEIR TENTS.  
Caravaggio stands, chatting amiably to them, holding a haversack, 
smoking a cigarette.


111*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DUSK.

Hana looks down from the Patient's room, watching the tents go up.

			HANA
		He wants us to move out, says there
		could be fifty more mines in the building.
		He thinks I'm mad because I laughed at
		him.  He's Indian, he wears a turban.

			THE PATIENT
		Sikh.  If he wears a turban, he's a Sikh.

Kip glances up at the window.  Hana, suddenly shy, backs away.

			HANA
		I'll probably marry him.

			THE PATIENT
		Really?  That's sudden.

			HANA
		My mother always told me I would
		summon my husband by playing the piano.

She goes over to the Patient's bed.

			HANA
		I liked it better when there were
		just the two of us.

			THE PATIENT
		Why?  Is he staying?

			HANA
		With his Sergeant.  A Mr. Hardy.

			THE PATIENT
		We should charge!  Doesn't anyone
		have a job to do?

			HANA
		They have to clear all the local roads
		of mines.  That's a big job.  They won't
		stay in the house.  They're putting up
		their tent in the garden.

			THE PATIENT
		In that case, I suppose we can't charge.


112*.	INT.    OFFICE, BRITISH HQ.    CAIRO.    DAY.

A SMALL OFFICE, shared by two men, and a mountain of filing cabinets 
and paper.  There are AERIAL MAPS all over the walls.  Clifton is on 
the telephone, while his colleague, RUPERT DOUGLAS, works at the desk.

			CLIFTON
				(into the phone)
		Darling, it's me, I'm sorry,
		something's come up.
				(Katharine responds)
		Don't sulk - I'll be back tomorrow
		evening.  I promise.
				(Katharine responds)
		Okay my precious, I love you.

Rupert makes a face at his friend's sentimentality.  Clifton beams.

			RUPERT
		I didn't know you were going anywhere?

			CLIFTON
		I'm not.  I'm going to surprise her.
		It's our anniversary.  She's forgotten,
		of course.  What's the symbol for your
		first anniversary?  I should get something.
		Is it paper?
				(he knocks sharply on the wall)
		Moose!  Moose, you there?  First
		Anniversary - is it cotton?

			CARAVAGGIO
		Is what cotton?

			CLIFTON
		First Wedding Anniversary.

			RUPERT
				(of Clifton)
		He's hopeless!

			CLIFTON
		Your day will come, my sausage.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Your first anniversary is Paper.


113	EXT.    CAIRO STREET.   O/S  SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL.    DAY.

The approach to the Shepheard's Hotel.  Geoffrey Clifton in a TAXI, 
champagne between his knees.

The car ahead of them SCREECHES TO A HALT as a WOMAN hurries across the 
street.  The driver honks his horn angrily.  The woman puts up a hand 
in apology as she skips across the street to another taxi.  IT'S 
KATHARINE - she's dressed for a date, carries flowers, an overnight 
bag.

Geoffrey, at first excited, is troubled by the accouterments.  Then he 
sees Katharine skip and his whole being punctures.

Katharine's cab roars off.  His own car jerks forward.

			CLIFTON
		Stop!

			CABBIE
		Please?

			CLIFTON
		Stop here.

			CABBIE
		Yessir.

Geoffrey sits in the cab.  Fifty yards short of the hotel.  The world 
rushes by.  He finds a cigarette.


114	INT.    ALMÁSY'S ROOMS.    LATE DAY.

Katharine is in bed.  Almásy has just put A RECORD on.  It's the folk 
song heard at the beginning of the film.  He slips back under the 
covers.  Their clothes are scattered around the room.  He lies over a 
happy Katharine.  She listens.

			KATHARINE
		This is - what is this?

			ALMÁSY
		It's a folk song.

			KATHARINE
		Arabic?

			ALMÁSY
		No, no, it's Hungarian.  My daijka
		sang it to me.

			KATHARINE
				(as they listen)
		It's beautiful.  What's it about?

			ALMÁSY
				(as if interpreting)
		It's a long song - Szerelem means 
		love...and the story - there's a
		Hungarian Count, he's a wanderer,
		a fool.  For years he's on some kind
		of quest, 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.  He sews
		her clothes, he worships the hem of -

Katharine had thought for a few seconds he was serious, then she 
catches on and starts to beat him.

			ALMÁSY
				(laughing)
		Ouch!  See - you're always beating me..!

			KATHARINE
		You bastard, I was believing you!

They embrace, he lies over her, considering her naked back.

			ALMÁSY
		I claim this shoulder blade - oh no,
		wait - I want this!

He turns her over, kisses her throat, then traces the hollow 
indentation.

			ALMÁSY
		This - what's it called? - this place,
		I love it - this is mine!
				(Katharine doesn't know)
		I'm asking the King permission to
		call it the Almasy Bosphorous.

			KATHARINE
				(teasing)
		I thought we were against ownership?
				(kissing him)
		I can stay tonight.

The luxury of this makes them both sad.  The duplicity.  Almásy rolls 
away on to his back.

			ALMÁSY
		Madox knows, I think.  He's tried to
		warn me.  He keeps talking about
		Anna Karenina.  I think it's his idea
		of a man-to-man chat.  Its my idea
		of a man-to-man chat.

			KATHARINE
		This is a different world - is what
		I tell myself.  A different life.
		And here I am a different wife.

			ALMÁSY
		Yes.  A different wife.


115	INT. CAB.  CAIRO STREET.  O/S SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL.  NIGHT.

The CAB DRIVER is asleep. A loud POP! jerks him awake.  In the back of 
the car Geoffrey has opened the champagne.  He lets it overflow, then 
takes a swig.  He notices the startled driver and puts up an apologetic 
arm.

			CLIFTON
		Sorry.

Two or three CHILDREN knock on the window, begging.  Geoffrey knocks 
back, violently.  They disappear.

			CABBIE
		Hotel now, sir?

			GEOFFREY
		No.

And he throws a silencing wad of money onto the seat by the Cabbie.


116	EXT.    ALMASY'S HOUSE.    OLD CAIRO.    DAWN.

Almásy and Katharine wander out of his building and into the early 
morning streets, hand in hand.


117	EXT.    SPICE MARKET.    CAIRO.    DAWN.

The MORNING PRAYERS rise out from the city's three Minarets.  Almásy 
stops at a stall, which is just preparing to open for the day.  He 
picks up a SILVER THIMBLE, points at it to the merchant who gives him a 
price.  Without comment, Almásy produces the money and, beaming, hands 
the thimble to Katharine.

			ALMÁSY
		I don't care to bargain.
				(she smiles)
		It's full of saffron, just in case
		you think I'm giving it to you to
		encourage your sewing.

			KATHARINE
		That day, had you followed me
		to the market?

			ALMÁSY
		Of course.  You didn't need to slap
		my face to make me feel as if you'd
		slapped my face.

			KATHARINE
				(loving him, but frightened)
		Shall we be all right?

			ALMÁSY
		Yes.  Yes.
				(shrugs)
		Absolutely.


118	EXT.    CAIRO STREET.    DAWN.

Katharine takes leave of Almásy on the street corner away from the 
hotel entrance.  They don't kiss, there's no demonstration of feeling.  
He turns immediately away and disappears.


119	INT.  CAB.  CAIRO STREET.  O/S SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL.  DAY.

Geoffrey, unshaven, watches as Katharine crosses the street and heads 
towards the hotel.  His expression is terrible, trying to smile, his 
face collapsed.


120	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    MORNING.

Cheek to Cheek leaks into the room from a GRAMOPHONE that Caravaggio 
stands over proudly.  The Patient opens his eyes - is confused, 
dislocated - stares blankly at Caravaggio.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(grinning)
		Thought you'd never wake up!

			THE PATIENT
		What?

Hana comes in, sleepily, frowns at the gramophone.

			HANA
		Where did you find that?

			CARAVAGGIO
		I liberated it.

			HANA
		I think that's called looting.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(relaxed)
		No-one should own music.  The real
		question is who wrote the song?

			THE PATIENT
		Irving Berlin.

			CARAVAGGIO
		For?

			THE PATIENT
		Top Hat.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Is there a song you don't know?

			HANA
				(speaking for him)
		No.  He sings all the time.

She goes over to the Patient and kisses him gently.

			HANA
		Good morning.
				(of his singing)
		Did you know that?  You're always singing?

			THE PATIENT
		I've been told that before.

			HANA
		Kip's another one.

She goes to the window, looks over to where the tents are pitched, sees 
Hardy shaving, Kip IN THE PROCESS OF WASHING HIS HAIR, his turban 
HANGING LIKE A RIBBON between two trees to dry.  He's perched a bowl on 
the sundial and is dipping his long coal-black hair into it.  As Hana 
watches Kip, Caravaggio changes the record.  The Patient identifies it 
immediately.


121*.	EXT.    MONASTERY GARDEN.     MORNING.

Hana walks past the tent, and passes Hardy.  She's carrying a small 
cup, which she's a little furtive about.  He's carrying a whole armada 
of OIL LIGHTS.  He nods upstairs.

			HANA
		Hello.

			HARDY
		Hello miss.

			HANA
		I was going to say - if you want to
		eat with us, ever... you and Lieutenant
		Singh...

			HARDY
		Very kind of you, we can always eat in
		the town with the others -

			HANA
		Since Caravaggio turned up - food
		seems to appear, so please.

			HARDY
		I'll ask the Lieutenant.  But thank you.

			HANA
		You saved my life.  I haven't forgotten.
				(Hardy waves that away)
		I thought you were very very tall.  You
		seemed to big - a Giant - and I felt
		like a child who can't keep her balance.

			HARDY
				(does a little mime)
		A toddler

She goes on, and tentatively approaches Kip, who's still working at his 
hair.  Kip hears her and puts out an inquiring arm, moving towards her 
like a blink man through the curtain of hair.  He touches her.

			HANA
		Sorry, is it all right I'm seeing this?

Kip shrugs.

			HANA
		My hair was long.  At some point.  
		I've forgotten what a nuisance it is
		to wash.  You know - if you were ever
		around - we get water from the pump
		at noon.

He continues to wash.  She holds up the cup of oil.

			HANA
		Try this.  I found a great jar of it.  
		Olive oil.  In Naples this was so
		precious it would have bought you a wife.

			KIP
		Thank you.

She stands for a second, then walks away.  Kip examines the oil, calls 
after her.

			KIP
		For my hair?

			HANA
				(turning, smiling)
		Yes, for your hair.


122	EXT.    THE MONASTERY.    HANA'S GARDEN.    DAY.

HANA IS GARDENING, close to the crucifix, which is now a full-fledged 
Scarecrow.  Broken bottles, fragments of stained glass and shards from 
a mirror are hung from the crossbar, syringes too, all jangling and 
tinkling and catching the sunlight.

Kip and Hardy drive off to work on their motorcycles.  She watches 
them, catching Kip's careless wave to her.  She looks briefly at 
herself in A PIECE OF MIRROR dangling from the Scarecrow.


123	INT.    THE MONASTERY.    UPSTAIRS LANDING.    DAY.

Hana walks along the landing with a tray.  There's a message on several 
doors in the corridor from Kip: SAFE, then a couple with the warning: 
DANGER.  She hears noise from the Patient's room.  Listens for a second 
before going in.

			THE PATIENT (O/S)
		Because you're reading it too fast!

			THE PATIENT (O/S)
		Not at all.

			THE PATIENT (O/S)
		You have to read Kipling slowly!
		Your eye is too impatient - think
		about the speed of his pen.
				(quoting Kipling to demonstrate)
		What is it - He sat comma in defiance
		of municipal orders comma astride the
		gun Zamzammah on her brick... What is it?


124	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

During this, Hana comes through with the tray, finds Kip perched on the 
window, relishing his skirmish with the Patient, who has condensed milk 
dribbling down his neck.

			KIP
		Brick platform opposite the old
		Ajaib-Gher -

			THE PATIENT
		#NAME?
		natives called the Lahore Museum.

			KIP
		It's still there, the cannon, outside the
		museum.  It was 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.

			THE PATIENT
		So what do you really object to - the
		writer or what he's writing about?

			KIP
		What I really object to, Uncle, is
		your finishing all my condensed milk.
				(snatching up the empty can)
		And the message everywhere in your
		book - however slowly I read it - that
		the best destiny for India is to be ruled
		by the British.

			THE PATIENT
		Hana, we have discovered a shared
		please - the boy and I.

			HANA
		Arguing about books.

			THE PATIENT
		Condensed milk - one of the truly
		great inventions.

			KIP
				(grinning, leaving)
		I'll get another tin.

Hana and the Patient are alone.

			HANA
		I didn't like that book either.  It's
		all about men.  Too many men.
		Just like this house.

			THE PATIENT
		You like him, don't you?  Your
		voice changes.

			HANA
		I don't think it does.
				(a beat)
		Anyway, he's indifferent to me.

			THE PATIENT
		I don't think it's indifference.

Kip comes bounding in with a fresh can.

			THE PATIENT
		Hana was just telling me that you
		were indifferent -

			HANA
				(appalled)
		Hey! - 

			THE PATIENT
		#NAME?

			KIP
		Well, I'm indifferent to cooking, not
		Hana's cooking in particular.
				(stabbing at the tin with a bayonet)
		Have either of you ever tried 
		condensed milk sandwiches?


125	DELETED.


126.				INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.   MORNING.

Caravaggio and the Patient are singing - an Arab song which they both 
know from Cairo days.  THUNDER accompanies them.  It's pouring.  
Suddenly the door is flung open and HANA, KIP and HARDY appear.  They 
have the stretcher with them.


127*.	EXT.    THE MONASTERY CLOISTERS.    MORNING.

A whoop precedes THE HEADLONG RUSH OF KIP, HARDLY and CARAVAGGIO as 
they cart the Patient across the Cloisters like manic stretcher-
bearers.  Hana is with them, holding an umbrella over the Patient who 
bounces uncomfortably.  He is nervous, a little giddy.  The rain 
buckets down.

			THE PATIENT
				(no irony)
		Careful - careful!


127a*.	EXT.    THE MONASTERY GARDEN.    MORNING.

The storm tour includes a trip around the pond.  The Patient pushes 
away the umbrella, lets the rain drench him.   He grins at Hana.

			THE PATIENT
		This is wonderful!

			KIP
				(to Hana)
		What's he saying?

			HANA
		He's saying it's wonderful!


128*.	INT.  LIBRARY OF THE DEPARTMENT OF EGYPTOLOGY.  DAY.

Madox and Almásy are camped in one corner of THE LIBRARY, hunched over 
their maps and papers and journals and clashing furiously over the site 
of the next part of the expedition.

			MADOX
				(pushing away his charts)
		And I'm telling you there's nothing
		there to explore.

			ALMÁSY
		No, because you can't see from the air!
		If you could explore from the air life
		would be very simple!
				(he yanks up a map)
		Look!  What is that?  Is that a wadi?
		That whole spur is a real possibility...

			MADOX
		Which we've overflown twice.

			ALMÁSY
		Which we couldn't explore because
		of rocks, because of cross-winds,
		it's sloppy.
				(stabbing another location)
		And here - and here - we could be
		staring at Zerzura.

	Other readers look over at this unseemly skirmish.

			MADOX
		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?

Almásy is surprised by Madox' anger.

			MADOX
		And where are the Expedition Maps?

			ALMÁSY
		In my room.

			MADOX
		Those maps belong to His Majesty's
		Government.  They're confidential.
		They shouldn't be left lying around
		for any Tom, Dick or Mary to have
		sight of.

			ALMÁSY
		What's the matter with you?

			MADOX
		Don't be so bloody naïve.  You know
		there's a war breaking out.
				(he tosses a slip of paper onto
the map, recites its message)
		This arrived this morning.  By order
		of the British Government - all
		International Expeditions to be
		aborted by May 1939.


129	INT.   CAIRO STREET.   DAY.

Almásy and Madox walk down this busy and rather narrow street without 
pavements.  Both of them somber.

			ALMÁSY
		Why do they care about our maps?

			MADOX
		What do we find in the desert?  Arrow
		heads, spears.  In a war, if you own the
		desert, you own North Africa.

			ALMÁSY
				(contemptuous)
		Own the desert.

Almásy hesitates at a junction, clearly about to take leave of Madox.

			ALMÁSY
		That place at the base of a woman's
		throat?  You know - the hollow - here -
		does that have an official name?

Madox looks at him.

			MADOX
		For God's sake, man - pull
		yourself together.


130	INT.    OPEN-AIR CINEMA.    CAIRO.    EVENING.

The OPEN-AIR CINEMA is just beginning its evening programme.

PATHE NEWS BEGINS and we date the event to April 1939.  Stories of 
imminent war jostle with images of Merrie England.  Village greens, 
sporting victories, Cruft's Dog Show.  Alone among the necking couples 
- mostly soldiers with their Egyptian girlfriends - in an otherwise 
empty block, is Katharine.  She's waiting for Almásy.  A SOLDIER comes 
over to Katharine's row and settles a couple of seats away from her.

			SOLDIER
		Beggin your pardon, miss, but have
		you got a lighter?

Katharine lights his cigarette and returns to the screen.  An item 
about Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers and TOP HAT.  The stars do their 
stuff.  The soldier moves a seat nearer.

			SOLDIER
				(leering)
		I love Ginger, she's a foxy girl, ain't she?

			KATHARINE
		Fuck off.

			SOLDIER
		What?

			KATHARINE
		You heard me.

The Soldier slinks off, muttering.  Katharine is wretched.  She sits 
head down, not watching the screen, marooned in her despair about 
duplicity, sordid assignations.

Almásy arrives, slides in beside Katharine, his shadow momentarily 
large across the screen.

			ALMÁSY
		Sorry.

They watch the screen.  Katharine is weeping.  Almásy doesn't 
understand.  He puts his arm around her.

			KATHARINE
		I can't do this, I can't do this any more.


131*.	EXT.    GROPPI PARK.    CAIRO.    EVENING.

A man walks round with A HAND BELL - announcing that the Park is 
closing.  He turns off the gaslights which illuminate the animal cages.  
Almásy and Katharine sit stiffly on a bench.  They don't speak.  Almásy 
puts his hands to his head, he rubs his shoulders.  The lights are 
gradually being extinguished around them.

	Finally, Katharine gets up.

			KATHARINE
		I'd better get back.
				(she keeps him away with a hand)
		Say goodbye here.

			ALMÁSY
		I'm not agreeing.  Don't think I'm
		agreeing, because I'm not.

They stand, awkward.  Katharine rehearses her position.  The bell 
clangs.

			KATHARINE
		I just know - any minute he'll find out,
		we'll barge into somebody we'll - and it
		will ill him.

			ALMÁSY
		Don't go over it again, please.

He takes her hands, lays his cheeks into them, then releases them, gets 
up, walks away.  She walks towards the gate.  He calls after her.

			ALMÁSY
		Katharine -

	He walks towards her, his smile awful.

			ALMÁSY
		I just wanted you to know.
		I'm not missing you yet.

She nods, can't find this funny.

			KATHARINE
		You will.  You will.

Then she turns sharply from him and catches her head against the 
gatepost, staggers at the shock of it, then hurries away.


132*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    MORNING.

Hana sits with the English Patient - the room shuttered against the 
morning light.  His breathing is noticeably worsening, a shudder of a 
breath, the shallow rise and fall of his chest perceptible.  Hana 
frets, touches his wrist, feeling for the pulse.

			THE PATIENT
		I'm still here.

			HANA
		You'd better be.

			THE PATIENT
		Don't depend on it.  Will you?
		That little bit of air, each day
		there's less of it, which is al right,
		which is quite all right.

She squeezes his hand, suddenly overwhelmed.

			THE PATIENT
				(brightly)
		I've been talking to Caravaggio - my
		research assistant - there's meant to be
		a ghost in the Cloisters.  I can join him!

There's some kind of noise from the garden.  Muffled shouts.

			THE PATIENT
		It's the boy.

Hana goes to the window, opens the shutters.  The day pours in.


132A*.	EXT.    MONASTERY OLIVE GROVES.    DAY.

Hana sees Kip - barely visible - standing at the far perimeter of the 
garden in the olive groves, HIS HANDS RAISED ABOVE HIM, HIS LEG HELD 
OUT STRANGELY.  WIRES run from his foot in all directions as if he'd 
trodden in some elaborate steel cobweb.


133	EXT.    MONASTERY OLIVE GROVES.    DAY.

Hana appears at the edge of the Olive groves and hurries towards Kip, 
who hasn't moved.  He shouts warning her.

			KIP
		Go to the left!  Keep to the left!  There
		are mines and trip wires everywhere!

Hana stops, hoists up her skirt and circles left, tentative in the long 
grass.  He shouts, doesn't want her close.

			KIP
		Get Hardy.  He's on the other side of 
		town.  In the hills.  Get him to hurry.

She keeps coming, can see that he needs her.

			HANA
		It's okay - I'll help.  Please.

			KIP
		The mines, the wires, there's a trick.
		Some explode if you stretch the wires,
		some if you cut them.

			HANA
		What do I do?

			KIP
		There's a mine here, but the others are
		far enough away, I think at least to
		give me a chance.  I have to work out
		which one to cut before I fall over.

			HANA
		So I follow the wires?

			KIP
		You get Hardy.

			HANA
		I follow the wires.

She kneels at his feet and tries to trace the tangled route of the web.

			KIP
		Don't touch them.

She follows one wire back to the closest mine, and traces another back 
to Kip's foot.  Then she finds another one leading off to a second mine 
some thirty metres away.

			HANA
		Why would anyone do this?

			KIP
		I've done this.  I've had to do this.

	Then Hana's suddenly tense.

			HANA
		Give me a second.

She turns and tiptoes RIGHT THROUGH THE DANGER AREA, straight to what 
had seized her attention.  Kip is appalled.

			KIP
		What are you doing?!  Hana!

Heedless, she dodges another mine and its web of wires just as THE 
TORTOISE clambers onto a clump of rock, which is, in fact, ANOTHER 
CONCRETE-COVERED MINE.

Hana snatches him up as he ambles towards the metal.  She turns, 
holding the protesting animal in triumph.  HER FOOT SNAGS ON A WIRE.  
She has to ease it off, in arabesque, still clutching the tortoise.   
She goes sideways to the safe zone - setting down the animal.  Then 
she's back with Kip.  He's seething.  She is strangely elated.

			KIP
		What is this business with you and
		explosives?  Do you think you're immune?

			HANA
		I promise you that was the right thing
		to do.  He's my good luck.
				(she gets the pliers from his belt,
and hands them to him)
		Now cut.  This one.
				(she indicates the wire)
		I hope we don't die.

			KIP
		Okay.  Get away from here.  Quick.

			HANA
		I'm not scared.  So many people have
		died around me.  But I would be a
		shame for us.
				(shrugs)
		I don't feel like being shy.

			KIP
		You must get away.  Before I cut.  I'm
		not cutting if you're here.

He's struggling.  He's going to topple over if he cuts.

			HANA
		Actually, you can't cut, can you?
		You'll fall over.  Give me the pliers.

			KIP
		No.

But he hands them over.

			HANA
		Kiss me.  Before I cut.  Just in case.


			KIP
		Don't talk.  Check again.  Lie flat and
		then cut.

Hana checks, lies down.  He bends as close to the ground as he dares 
AND KISSES HER, THEN SHE IMMEDIATELY CUTS.


134	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    CONTINUOUS.

The Patient lies in bed.  He's agitated by the silence.  SUDDENLY 
THERE'S AN EXPLOSION.  He tries to shout, a croak which quickly reduces 
him to coughing and breathlessness.

			THE PATIENT
		Hana!  Hana!  Kip!  Hana!

He tries to move.  He can't.  He's frantic.

FOOTSTEPS, as someone hurtles up the stairs.  It's Hana.  She's ashamed 
to have forgotten him.  She rushes to him.

			HANA
		I'm sorry.  I forgot you'd be worrying.
		We're all safe.  It was a mine, but not
		the mine.  Nobody's hurt.  I'm sorry.

She calms him.  He's exhausted.  His eyes shine.


135	EXT.    MOUNTAIN ROAD.    ITALY.    LATE DAY.

Hana clings onto Kip as the TRIUMPH MOTORCYCLE hares along the circling 
road.  She has her arms around his waist.  His head turns to her for a 
second and she smiles.

136	EXT.    ROAD BLOCK.    TUSCANY.    DUSK.

Kip and Hana have been detained at a ROAD BLOCK.  Kip is being 
questioned at a sentry post, his papers over-thoroughly inspected and 
accompanied by several meaningful glances at Hana, who waits, standing 
by the motorcycle.  One of the SOLDIERS saunters over and returns her 
papers.

			SOLDIER
		And you're definitely traveling with
		him of your own free will?

			HANA
		Yes.

			SOLDIER
				(clearly disapproving)
		Just wanting to be sure.  And he's
		taking you to church?

			HANA
				(deadpan)
		Yes.  We're going to a funeral.  A cow has
		died.  And in his religion they're sacred.

The Soldier isn't sure what to make of this.  He signals to his 
companion who returns Kip's papers.  Kip walks back to the motorcycles.  
He says nothing.  He kicks the starter.  Hana gets on, slides her arms 
lovingly around him.


137	EXT.    BRIDGE.    ITALY.    DUSK.

IT'S GETTING DARK.  The bike, headlights on, crosses a bridge.  Kip has 
strapped on his crimson emergency light as they sail along the winding 
crest of mountain ridge that is a spine down Italy.


138	EXT.    AREZZO.   DUSK.

	Kip steers the motorbike into the deserted PIAZZA.

They dismount and Kip starts to unbuckle his bulging satchel and unload 
the panniers.  Hana still doesn't know what's in store and looks 
questioningly at Kip as he walks up to the door of the CHURCH.


139	INT.    CHURCH.    DUSK.

They enter the Church.  It's in almost total darkness.  THEN A FLARE 
SUDDENLY ILLUMINATES THE INTERIOR.  It's magnificent.  Kip holds the 
flare, crimson on one arm, green pouring up from the other.  Hana walks 
behind him, still perplexed.  There is PROTECTIVE SCAFFOLDING 
EVERYWHERE, AND SANDBAGS PILED UP HIGH AROUND THE ALTARS, AND THE 
STATUES.

A SECOND FLARE.  Kip has appeared through A SECRET DOOR high in the 
church, literally emerging from one of the frescoes which are 
momentarily visible.  He flings a rope over the rafters.

Now Kip circles Hana with the rope, MAKING A SLING across her waist and 
shoulder.  He lights a smaller flair and hands it to her before 
disappearing.

Hana stands holding the flare.  She can't see Kip, can only hear him 
scrambling.

			HANA
		Kip?

He runs up the sandbags, right up into the rafters.  He collects the 
other end of the rope which is attached to Hana.  Holding onto it, he 
just STEPS OFF INTO THE DARKNESS.

SIMULTANEOUSLY HANA IS SWUNG UP INTO THE AIR, her startled yelp echoing 
around the Church.  Kip touches ground, while Hana swings through 
space, coming to rest about three feet from the FRESCOED WALLS, painted 
by Piero Della Francesca.  Hana's flare makes a halo around her head.

Now Kip, on the ground, still holding the rope, walks forward and 
causes Hana to SWING to the right.  She lets out a giddy laugh, 
exhilarated and nervous, and she flies, illuminating - en passant - 
faces, bodies, angels.  Kip guides the rope as if they were making 
love, which in a way they are.

Hana arrives, hovering, in front of THE QUEEN OF SHEBA TALKING TO 
SOLOMON. She's overwhelmed.  She reaches out to touch the giant neck of 
the sad Queen.

Kip slowly lets her down, paying out the length of the rope.  Hana's 
face is full of tears.  He smiles, holds her.


140	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    EVENING.

Caravaggio is with the Patient.  He sits in the window.  Fiddles with 
the bandages of his hands.

			THE PATIENT
		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 bandages?

Caravaggio goes to him, holding out his hands, the bandage ends 
trailing.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Hold the ends.

The Patient holds them.  Caravaggio walks backwards, the bandages 
unraveling and unraveling.  


141*.	INT.  TOBRUK.  BRITISH HEADQUARTERS.  JUNE 1942.  DAY.

Caravaggio, thumbs intact and wearing a crumpled linen suit, walks 
through the mangled corridors of British HQ.  Smoke is rising from 
buildings, the ominous scream of Stuka dive-bombers in the distance as 
the harbor is pounded, the steady thud of explosions.  TOBRUK IS UNDER 
SIEGE.  BHQ is a place in the throws of dismantling itself.  
SECRETARIES are visiting braziers manned by ARAB BOYS who stoke the 
fires as boxes of papers are fed into them.  ASHES hover in the air.


142*.	INT.   BHQ.    TOBRUK.    DAY.

Caravaggio walks through a large room crowded with desks.  From one of 
them, a young woman, AICHA, kisses him, frowning at the chaos and the 
shelling.

			AICHA
		He's waiting for you.

Some doors are open, revealing men and women in uniform urgently 
SHREDDING DOCUMENTS.  Caravaggio knocks at an office whose door is ajar 
and where the incumbent, FENELON-BARNES, is stripping the room of his 
personal possessions-  photographs, stone branches, a cricket bat.


142a*.	INT.   FENELON-BARNES OFFICE.   BHQ.   TOBRUK.   DAY.

Caravaggio enters.

			FENELON-BARNES
				(barely looking up)
		What a bloody flap, eh?  I heard from
		Alexandria this morning - apparently
		no-one there is accepting British pounds.
		And if you pick up a telephone 
		everybody's practicing their German.
				(holds up some gramophone records)
		What do you do - do you take these
		things?
				(then, awkward)
		Look, Moose, we need you to stay in
		Tobruk.  A bit of a short straw but
		the thinking is we'll be back - I mean,
		we will be back - but...and in the
		interim we need eyes and ears on
		the ground.

A BIG BOMB lands nearby.  The building shudders and plaster dust drops 
from the ceiling.  Almost oblivious, the two men head out of the 
office.  Fenelon-Barnes lugs the TRUNK last glimpsed in his tent by 
Almásy, until Caravaggio takes over.


143*.	INT. CORRIDOR OF BRITISH HEADQUARTERS. TOBRUK. DAY.

Fenelon-Barnes and Caravaggio make their way down the stairs and to the 
entrance.

			CARAVAGGIO
		We have 30, 000 troops in Tobruk.
		What are they going to be doing?

			FENELON-BARNES
				(continuing to pack)
		Giving Rommel a bloody nose. That's
		my suggestion.  But did you hear
		the BBC last nigh?  Tobruk is of no
		strategic importance - makes you wonder.

AICHA is at the bottom of the stairs.  She falls into step.

			FENELON-BARNES
		Jerry's got our maps you know.  Swines.
		Before the war we helped them run about
		the desert making maps - and now they
		get spies into Cairo using our maps, they'll
		get Rommel into Cairo using our maps.
		The whole of the desert like a bus route
		and we gave it to them.   Any foreigner who
		turned up - welcome to the Royal Geographic,
		take our maps.  Madox went mad, you know -
		you knew Peter Madox? - after he found
		out he'd been betrayed by his friend.
		Absolutely destroyed the poor sod.  Shot
		himself in a church in Dorset.

Caravaggio opens the door, Fenelon-Barnes goes through.


144*.	EXT.    BRITISH HEADQUARTERS.    TOBRUK.    DAY.

The Fenelon-Barnes trunk is taken from Caravaggio and joins the pile of 
luggage and artifacts, which wait to be shipped out.

			FENELON-BARNES
		I'd like to get that bastard Almásy -
		settle the score, eh?  That's my
		fantasy - said he, clearing out.
		Must have been a spy all along.


145	DELETED.


146*.	EXT.    TOBRUK DOCKSIDE.    DAY.

A GERMAN TROOP CARRIER rumbles forward passing a line of BEDRAGGLED 
BRITISH POWS as they're marched along the side of harbor.


146a*. EXT.    TOBRUK RUINED QUARTER.    DAY.

A HILL OF SALVAGED ARMY BOOTS is being explored by a couple of GERMAN 
SOLDIERS in search of better footwear.  Below them the POWS trudge by, 
one of them barefoot.  ONE OF THE GERMANS tosses down a pair of boots 
then continues his own perusal.


146b*. EXT.    TOBRUK SQUARE.    DAY.

A crowd of Tobruk CIVILIANS - French and Italians among the MOSTLY ARAB 
FACES.  Their papers are being thoroughly checked by officers sitting 
at open desks. IN A LINE, WEARING HIS SHABBY SUIT, IS CARAVAGGIO.  AN 
ARAB WOMAN in front of him is arguing over the identity of her 
ominously CAUCASIAN-LOOKING CHILD.  An INTERPRETER mediates.  The 
OFFICER doesn't believe the woman.  She's getting frantic at the 
possibility of losing her child.

Suddenly there's a disturbance as a WOMAN is dragged along the line by 
her hair.  She's bloodied, and has been tortured, and it's hard to 
recognize her as the pretty AICHA.  She touches a couple of people in 
the line.  They're horrified.  Soldiers pull them away.  Caravaggio 
doesn't look, stares straight ahead.  An officer watches him AS HE 
TURNS BRIEFLY AND HELPLESSLY OUT OF CONCERN FOR HER.  THEIR EYES CATCH 
FOR AN INSTANT AND THE OFFICER SEES IT.

CARAVAGGIO RUNS, bolts for cover, vaulting the rubble which blocks one 
corner of the square.  The CONGREGATION throws itself to the ground 
until the square has only standing soldiers and a running man.


146c*. EXT.   TOBRUK.   INTERIOR OF RUINED BUILDING.   DAY.

Shots pursue Caravaggio as he disappears behind the rubble, then bobs 
up again as he darts inside a blasted building.  He clambers up some 
ruined stairs, heaves over the wall.


146d*. EXT.   TOBRUK.   FACADE OF RUINED BUILDING.   DAY.

CARAVAGGIO grabs a metal bar on the facade of the building, from which 
he hangs, looking for the next foothold.  Soldiers appear along the top 
of the building, shouting, rifles ready.  AN OFFICER arrives and stops 
the soldiers firing, and the others begin to laugh as Caravaggio hangs 
from the bar fifteen feet above a balcony, slowly losing his strength.  
Another SOLDIER waits for him in the balcony below.  Now he starts to 
laugh.  Caravaggio hangs.


147*.	INT. INTERROGATION ROOM. TOBRUK. NOVEMBER 13,1942. DAY.

Caravaggio is slumped at a table, HIS HANDS MANACLED TO ITS THICK 
WOODEN LEGS.  There's A TELEPHONE at another table in the corner of the 
room attended by a CLERK with A STENOGRAPHER working next to him.  The 
room has stone walls which appear damp, and no windows.  SOLDIERS stand 
guard at the door.  It's a horrible room.  Caravaggio is trying to 
sleep, he's unshaven, and pasty-looking.  His interrogator, Müller, 
seems incredibly tired and aggravated.  He's on the phone.

			MÜLLER
				(in German)
		Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

He slams down the phone and comes back to the table.

			MÜLLER
		David Caravaggio.

			CARAVAGGIO
		No.

			MÜLLER
		Petty thief, six months imprisonment
		Kingston Penitentiary, 1937.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(barely with humor)
		I keep explaining.  You've got the wrong
		man.  My name is Bellini - Antonio
		Bellini.  Bellini, Caravaggio, both
		painters, I think that is confusing you.

Müller doesn't even pay attention, he's going through a file.  Pulls 
out some photographs, starts spreading them out.

			MÜLLER
		Is this you?

			CARAVAGGIO
		I don't know.

			MÜLLER
		It is you.  This was taken in Cairo at
		British Headquarters - July 41.  And so was
		this - August 41.  And this -February 42.

			CARAVAGGIO
		It's impossible.  I was buying or selling
		something.  I've been to Cairo many times.

			MÜLLER
		You are a Canadian spy working for
		the Allies.  Code-name Moose.

THE PHONE rings again, is answered.  The Clerk calls to Müller who gets 
up, irritably.  Caravaggio addresses the room.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Could I have a doctor?  I am passing
		blood.  I must be bleeding internally.
				(to the clerk)
		Can you get a doctor?  Look -
				(he spits onto the table,
there's blood in his mouth)
		I'm leaking blood.
				(he indicates a Guard)
		He kicks me.  He kicks me all the time.

Nobody responds.  Müller is irascible on the phone, checking his watch, 
negotiating time.  The call finishes.

			CLERK
				(in German)
		He's asking for a doctor.

			MÜLLER
				(to Caravaggio)
		You want a doctor?

			CARAVAGGIO
		Yes, I've been asking for weeks, a 
		month, I don't know, also my leg was -

			MÜLLER
		We don't have a doctor, but we
		do have a nurse.

			CARAVAGGIO
		A nurse?  Well, sure, a nurse is great.
		A nurse?  Great.

Müller nods at the Clerk, who instantly gets up.  Just then the 
telephone rings again.  He hesitates.

			MÜLLER
				(in German)
		Leave it and get the nurse!

The Clerk exits.  The phone rings.  The Stenographer is plagued by 
flies.  Suddenly he slaps at one.

			MÜLLER
				(snapping)
		Why is there so much nose?  I can't
		hear myself think!
				(turns to Caravaggio)
		Look - give me something.  So we can
		all get out of this room.  A name.  A code.
				(wiping his face)
		It's too hot.

			CARAVAGGIO
		I slept with the girl.  I've got a wife
		in Tripoli.  A girl comes up and points
		at you, you only see trouble.

The NURSE comes in.  She is Arab and her head is covered.

			MÜLLER
		I'll tell you what I'm going to do.  This
		is your nurse, by the way.  She's Moslem,
		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 - is it the hands that are cut off?
		Or is that for stealing?  Does anyone know?

There's silence.  Müller turns to Caravaggio.

			MÜLLER
		Well, you must know.  You were 
		brought up Libya, yes?

			CARAVAGGIO
		Don't cut me.

			MÜLLER
		Or was it Toronto?

			CARAVAGGIO
				(ashen)
		Don't cut me.  Come on.

Now the phone starts again.  The CLERK picks it up, there's a terse 
exchange, he puts the receiver on the desk, waits for the moment to 
interrupt Müller.

			MÜLLER
		Ten fingers.  How about this?  You
		give me a name for every finger -
		doesn't matter who.  I get something,
		you keep something.  I'm trying to be
		reasonable.  Fenelon-Barnes, we could 
		call that two names.
				(pauses, suddenly puzzled)
		Are thumbs fingers?
				(in GERMAN to the others)
		Is a thumb a finger?

No response.  Müller opens his palms to Caravaggio.

			MÜLLER
		I get no help from these people.

			CLERK
				(in German)
		The telephone -

Müller walks over, takes the receiver and slams it down.  an AIR RAID 
SIREN is going off somewhere, and now the faint sound of explosions is 
also discernible, but all muffled in this room with the steady clack-
clack of the STENOGRAPHER.  At that moment, Müller suddenly becomes 
aware of what is happening.  He turns on the Stenographer.

			MÜLLER
				(in German)
		What are you doing?

			STENOGRAPHER
				(awkward, in German)
		That Geneva Convention.  I'm -

	Müller peremptorily rips out the paper, throws it on the floor.

			CARAVAGGIO
		You can't do that!  Hey - come on!

DURING THIS Müller's gone to the table, pulled out a drawer and 
produced A CUT-THROAT RAZOR.  He hands it to the nurse, makes a line 
across his own left thumb and jerks his head towards Caravaggio.  The 
nurse is extremely reluctant.  Müller claps his hands, pushes her 
towards Caravaggio.

			MÜLLER
		Go!  Hey!  Go!

Caravaggio is in terror.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Oh Jesus.  Oh Jesus Christ.

The guards come away from the door and press down on Caravaggio's 
shoulders to prevent him from moving.  The nurse, grim-faced, 
approaches, kneels at the table. 

			CARAVAGGIO
				(as she prepares to cut)
		Listen, I'll give you a name.  What
		name did you say?  I knew them!
		I promise.  Please - please!

And then he SCREAMS AND SCREAMS and jerks up, carrying the guards and 
the table with him, all heaving off the ground, the nurse thrown off 
balance.  He falls to the floor, ROARING WITH PAIN, blood everywhere, 
the table on top of him.  The AIR RAID is continuing outside, the PHONE 
IS RINGING, the nurse stands, pale, blood all over her uniform.

			MÜLLER
		Cut the other thumb.

He stabs at his own right thumb.

			MÜLLER
		This one!  Come on!

The nurse, horrified, shakes her head.  Müller snatches the razor from 
her and heads towards the prostate Caravaggio.

One Guard has got to his feet and grips Caravaggio around the neck in 
half-nelson, others holding his legs, while Müller approaches.  
Caravaggio can't move.  He's gurgling as the Guard almost strangles 
him.  His eyes are streaming with tears.

Now Müller is at his other hand, and the ROAR of pain again lifts 
Caravaggio to his feet, THE WHOLE TABLE RISING IN THE AIR, his 
mutilated hands slipping from the handcuffs lie Houdini, the drawers of 
the table SPILLING their contents everywhere, before he sinks to his 
knees like a gored bull and BLACKS OUT.


148	INT.    INTERROGATION ROOM.    TOBRUK.    DAY.

LATER, and Caravaggio comes round.  His eyes open and then his face 
spasms with pain.  He looks down at his ruined hands, then realizes 
he's alone on the floor of the room, the papers still scattered, the 
table on its side.  He gets up and staggers out of the open door and up 
the stairs.


149*.	INT.  STAIRS FROM INTERROGATION ROOM.  TOBRUK.   DAY.
 
The corridor is deserted, but the body of a GERMAN SOLDIER sprawls on 
the stairs leading up to daylight.  Outside Caravaggio can hear 
fighting.


150*.	EXT.    ROOF.    INTERROGATION BUILDING.    DAY.

Caravaggio walks unsteadily along the roof of the building.  Grey and 
yellow gusts of smoke and the rat-ta-tat-tat of machine gun fire 
accompany him, and there's the sound of vehicles screeching and people 
shouting nearby, but no visual clues as to what's happening.

SUDDENLY A PARACHUTE FLOATS DOWN BY HIM.  THEN ANOTHER.  THEN ANOTHER.  
HE'S SURROUNDED BY PARACHUTES.  THE BRITISH ARE RECLAIMING TOBRUK.  A 
PARATROOPER LANDS ON THE ROOF, AND GESTURES TO CARAVAGGIO TO RAISE HIS 
HANDS.  HE SLOWLY DOES SO.


151*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

Caravaggio stands in front of the bed, holding up his NAKED HANDS to 
the Patient, like a man surrendering - two flaps like gills where his 
thumbs were.  The Patient reaches out to take his hands and gently 
lowers them.  Caravaggio finds his bandages, start to wrap them back 
round his fists.

			CARAVAGGIO
		The man who took my thumbs, I found
		him eventually - he's dead.  The man who
		took my photograph, I found him too -
		that took me a year.  He's dead.  Another
		man took that man across the desert to
		Cairo.  Now I intend to find him.

The LIGHTS FROM THE MOTORBIKE approaching the Monastery, its growl.  
Caravaggio goes to the window and watches as Kip and Hana arrive.


152	INT.   AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE.   CAIRO, 1939.   NIGHT.

Last seen at the Troops Christmas party, the INNER COURTYARD has been 
transformed into an elegant outdoor banquet, with band. The 
Almásy/Madox team is assembled for A FAREWELL DINNER.  They are waiting 
for Almásy to arrive, his seat conspicuously empty.  He is very late.  
And then he's there, dangerous drunk, terribly dashing.  He practically 
dances to his chair, which he drags violently away from its position 
opposite Katharine.  He bows to Lady Hampton.

			ALMÁSY
		I believe I'm rather late.

			MADOX
				(ignoring the drama of this entrance)
		Good, we're all here?  A toast,
		to the International Sand club -
		may it soon resurface.

			THE OTHERS
		The International Sand Club!

			ALMÁSY
				(raising his glass)
		Misfits, buggers, fascists, and
		paedophiles.  God bless us every one.

The others drink, trying to ignore his mood.

			ALMÁSY
		Oops!  Mustn't say International.  
		Dirty word.  Filthy word.  His Majesty!
		Die Führer!  Il Duce.

			CLIFTON
		Sorry, what's your point?

			ALMÁSY
				(ignoring the remark)
		And the people here don't want us.
		Are you kidding?  The Egyptians are
		desperate to get rid of the Colonials...
				(to an embarrassed Fouad)
		- isn't that right?  Their best people
		get down on hands and knees 
		begging to be spared a knighthood.
				(to his host, Sir Hampton)
		Isn't that right?

Ronnie Hampton shrugs.  They're all very uncomfortable.  Almásy glares 
at Clifton.

			ALMÁSY
		What's my point?
				(standing up)
		Oh!  I've invented a new dance - the
		Bosphorus Hug.  Anybody up to it?
		Madox?  D'Ag?  Come on D'Aggers.

			D'AGOSTINO
		Let's eat first.  Sit down.

The Band is now playing Manhattan - Almásy, without missing a beat, 
begins to sing, replacing the words with alternatives he knows.  He 
lurches around.  Katharine can't look at him.

			ALMÁSY
		...We'll bathe at Brighton, the fish
		we'll frighten when we're in.  your
		bathing suit so thin will make the
		shellfish grin, fin to fin. --  Those
		were the words - actually - before
		they were cleaned up.  Could be a
		song for you, Mrs. Clifton -
				(a perfect English accent)
		#NAME?

Madox gets up and pulls Almásy into his chair, taking charge.

			MADOX
		Look, either shut up, or go home.

			ALMÁSY 
				(darkly)
		Absolutely right, shut up.  Lashings of
		apologies all round.


153*.	EXT.    AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE.    NIGHT.

Later, now MOST OF THE GROUP ARE DANCING.  We see Katharine dancing 
with Rupert Douglas, enjoying herself.  Bermann is there and even Madox 
jogging and grinning foolishly.  Clifton looks at Katharine who, as the 
dance ends, excuses herself to go to the cloakroom.  Almásy hovers in 
the shadows, unseen.


154*.	INT.    AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE.    NIGHT.

Katharine comes along the familiar warren of rooms and corridors and is 
suddenly confronted by Almásy, tortured and out of control.

			ALMÁSY
		Why did you hold his collar?

			KATHARINE
		What?

			ALMÁSY
				(mimicking her inflection)
		What?  What?  That boy, that little boy,
		you were holding his collar, gripping
		his collar, what for?

			KATHARINE
		Would you let me pass?

			ALMÁSY
		Is he next?  Do you drag him into your
		little room?  Where is it?  Is this it?

			KATHARINE
		Don't do this.

			ALMÁSY
		I've watched you - on verandahs, at
		Garden Parties, at the Races - how
		can you stand there?  How can you
		ever smile?  As if your life hadn't capsized?

			KATHARINE
		You know why?

He tries to hold her.  She resists

			ALMÁSY
		Dance with me.

			KATHARINE
		No.

			ALMÁSY
		Dance with me.  I want to touch you.
		I want the things which are mine.
		Which belong to me.

			KATHARINE
		Do you think you're the only one who
		feels anything?  Is that what you think?

Some women, flushed with dancing, turn the corner on the way to the 
Ladies Room.  They collect Katharine in their train and leave Almásy to 
fall back into the shadows.


155	INT.    THE PATIENTS' ROOM.    NIGHT.

Hana sits with the Patient.  His eyes are full of tears.  He opens 
them, sees her, watching over him.  He's embarrassed.

			THE PATIENT
		Why don't you go?
				(wiping his eyes)
		You should sleep.

			HANA
		Would you like me to?

He nods.  She gets up, touches his hand, then leaves.


156*.	INT.    THE MONASTERY, LANDING AND STAIRS.    NIGHT.

Hana leaves the room, then turns and sees A TINY LAMP on the floor, 
it's made from a SNAIL SHELL and oil.  She bends to it curiously, then 
sees a second lamp half-way down the stairs, then a third further down.  
She smiles in the light, then follows the trail.


157	EXT.    THE MONASTERY CLOISTERS.    NIGHT.


In the Cloisters THE TRAIL OF SHELL LAMPS CONTINUES, like tiny cat's 
eyes.  As they reach the hopscotch chalk marks, they outline the 
squares.  Hana HOPSCOTCHES and then follows the light, disappearing 
round a corner.



158	INT.    THE MONASTERY STABLES.    NIGHT.

Hana comes through into the stables.  The lamps lead her, then they 
stop.  She peers into the shadows.

			KIP (O/S)
		Hana.

She turns to the voice.  He steps out of the darkness.

			HANA 
				(happy )
		Kip.

And he goes to her.


159	EXT.    THE MONASTERY STABLES.    EARLY MORNING.

Hardy knocks cautiously on the door of the stables.  Eventually Hana 
opens the door.

			HARDY
		I was looking for the Lieutenant Singh.

			HANA
		He's sleeping.

			HARDY
		Only we have to go to work.

			HANA
		I'll tell him.  What is it?  Is it a mine?

			HARDY
		A bomb.  At the Viaduct.

She closes the door, then reappears.

			HANA
		Does he have to go?

			HARDY
		Pardon me?

			HANA
		What if you couldn't find him...?
				(Hardy's bewildered)
		Sergeant, not today, please.
		Not this morning.

Kip comes to the door, winding his turban.

			KIP
		What's happening?  Am I needed?

			HARDY
		I'm afraid so, sir.

Kip hurries to his tent.  Hana follows him.

			HANA
		Don't go.  I'm frightened.  I can love
		a coward, I can't love another dead man.

			KIP
		This is what I do.  I do this every day.

And he's ready, Hardy having wheeled out their motorcycles.  He gets on 
his, and they're away, Hana hardly able to look.


160	EXT.    A VIADUCT NORTH OF THE MONASTERY.    DAY.

KIP IS LOWERED BY A PULLEY INTO THE SHAFT THE SAPPERS HAVE MADE AROUND 
THE BOMB.  Hardy supervises.  The bombs huge - 2, 000 lbs, and 
protrudes ostrich-like from the pit, its nose sunk into a pool of 
sludge at the base of the viaduct.

Kip steps off and sinks knee deep in mud, grunting in disgust.   
Warily, he touches his huge opponent, feeling the condition of the 
case.  He wipes the metal.  Reveals a serial number, calls it out to 
Hardy, who's perched on the bank.

			KIP
		Serial number - KK-1P2600.

He's hypnotized by the number: KK-1P: a bomb with his name on it.


161	EXT.    ROAD APPROACHING VIADUCT.   DAY.

Hana cycles along on Caravaggio's bicycle.  A TANK comes roaring up 
behind her, then a second and a third, loaded up with people, citizens 
and soldiers, and children, waving flags and gesticulating.  She lets 
the metal circus go by.


162	INT.    BOMB SHAFT.    DAY.

Back in the shaft, Kip works away, his fingers shaking with the cold 
from the oxygen he's using to freeze the fuse.  Suddenly there's a 
VIOLENT TREMOR.  The ground is SHUDDERING, and the bomb slips horribly.  
Kip GRABS AT IT helplessly as if trying to stop a man from falling, 
instead it falls on him pushing him into the sludge.

			KIP
		Hardy!  Hardy!  What's happening?!


163	EXT.    VIADUCT.    DAY.

The TANKS are rumbling towards the Viaduct.  HORNS start sounding.  
HARDY, below, bellows at his men above for explanation.

			HARDY
		Corporal!?  Dade!!

			DADE
		Tanks, sir.  Don't know what it's about.
		God only knows.

			HARDY
				(incredulous)
		What is this - a bloody carnival?
		Stop them!

Three Sappers run across the bridge towards the oncoming procession.  
They wave their orange flags, the tanks wave back wit their flags - 
Stars and Stripes, Union Jacks.  Now SHOTS are ringing out.  In the 
shaft, oblivious, Kip slides out from under the bomb, the oxygen 
spurting everywhere, all over his clothes, hissing on the surface of 
the water.  Hardy bends into the shaft, heedless of his own safety.

			HARDY
		You've got to cut, sir, that frost
		won't last.

			KIP
		Go away.

			HARDY
		Yessir.

			KIP
		This is making me incredibly angry.

He rubs his hands to warm them up, locates his needle pliers and slips 
them through the tiny gap.  His hand touches the casing and the freeze 
BURNS his hand.  He jerks back, DROPPING THE PLIERS into the sludge, 
cursing.

Now he's on his hands and knees in the sludge, trying frantically to 
find the pliers.  Hardy looks at his watch, he can't help.  The seconds 
run out as Kip grovels in the mud.  Totally submerged, he suddenly 
comes out with the pliers, goes straight to the fuse, no finesse, and 
cuts.  There's a snip.  Then nothing.  Then Kip laughs at Hardy.

			KIP
		Kiss me.

Hardy is already at the winch, hauling it up.  Kip can hardly clip on 
the halter - his hands numb and burned.  As the pulley jerks he just 
clings on, rising from the grip of the mud like an ancient corpse out 
of a bog.

The other sappers have gathered around the edge of the site.  Great 
elation on their faces.

			HARDY 
		Get a blanket!
				(not getting attention)
		Dade!  Get the Lieutenant a blanket.

			DADE
		It's over, Sarge.  It's over.  Jerry's surrendered.
				(to Kip)
		Sir, congratulations!

Kip shakes his hand.  Kip shakes Hardy's hand.

			KIP
		Congratulations.  

And now they're all shaking hands, and slapping backs and the SOLDIERS 
FROM THE TANKS are there and the victory  celebrations begin.  Kip's 
blank, drained, not taking anything in, as Dade wraps a blanket around 
his shoulders.

HANA'S ON TOP OF THE VIADUCT, watching as Kip is wrapped in his 
blanket, the men celebrating.  She shouts with relief from the top of 
the bridge.

			HANA
		Kip!


164	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

	A VICTORY CELEBRATION PARTY.

The gramophone plays Frank Sinatra.  Kip sits in the window, the 
shutters open, the village lit up behind his head, nodding to the 
music, sucking out of his condensed milk.  Elsewhere there is an open 
bottle of cognac, some wine.  The Patient has a beaker of wine.  
Caravaggio is dancing with Hana.

			HANA
		Kip - come and dance with me

			KIP
				(a sly wobble of the head)
		Yes.  Later.

Caravaggio swirls past the Patient - nodding at the cognac.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Have a drink.

			THE PATIENT
		I've had a drink.  Fatal.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Well, anything you do is likely 
		to be fatal, so you know -

			THE PATIENT
		Very true!


165	EXT.    VILLAGE SQUARE.    NIGHT.

A tiny PIAZZA where the Sappers and the Villagers are having their own, 
more raucous, Victory Feste.  There are accordions, there's dancing, 
and there's HARDY, stripped to some exotic underpants, a large tattoo: 
DORIS inside a heart, clambering up the EQUESTRIAN STATUE IN THE MIDDLE 
OF THE FOUNTAIN.  He's astride the horse and now straining to get up to 
the tip of the outstretched sword, so that he can hang the UNION JACK 
FLAG he has in his mouth.

BLACKLER, one of the Sappers, is Hardy's assistant.  He's drunk and 
slips from his ladder, falling flat on his back into the fountain with 
a great splash, to much hilarity.  


166	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

Hana and Caravaggio are still dancing.  The music has stopped.  
Caravaggio changes the record.  Hana goes to Kip for a second, beaming, 
before Caravaggio has snatched her away again.  The Patient taps along 
to the music.

			THE PATIENT
		Who knows the Bosphorus Hug?

			HANA
		Never heard of it.

			THE PATIENT
		That was a dance we invented at
		the International Sand Club.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(cryptic)
		What?  You and Madox?  Or you
		and Katharine Clifton?

			THE PATIENT
				(a small laugh)
		What?

There's a muddled thud in the distance, Kip's ears prick up.  He 
glances for an instant out of the window.

			HANA
				(anxious, of the noise)
		What was that?

She is spinning with Caravaggio.  When she comes round again, Kip has 
gone.


167	EXT.    VILLAGE SQUARE.    ITALY 1945.    NIGHT.

	Kip's motorbike skids into the tiny PIAZZA.

A MILITARY AMBULANCE IS ALREADY THERE.  Dade and SPALDING are presiding 
as the paramedics take two bodies into the rear of the truck.  The 
shattered fountain, the sluiced flagstones, shining wet and slick, give 
some clues as to what's happened, as do the elderly standing in the 
shadows, the distressed girls, arm in arm.  ONE GIRL, young and quite 
striking, is particularly inconsolable, her grief sobbed out at the 
doors of the ambulance.

SPALDING salutes Kip, who waves his salute away, just wanting to know 
what happened.

			SPALDING
		Booby trap.  They was running up the
		Union Jack, sir, up off that statue -
		It just went off.

			DADE
		Should have been me.  It was my idea
		but Sergeant Hardy climbed up, sir,
		him and Blackler.

Kip goes to the ambulance.  Spalding tries to stop him.

			SPALDING
		Sir - you don't want to look.

Kip steps into the back of the ambulance, bends over both bodies, does 
look, then comes out, past the weeping girl.

			KIP
		Who's that girl?

			DADE
		His fiancee, sir.

			KIP
				(astonished)
		Hardy's?

			DADE
		Kept it a bit dark.


168	EXT.    THE MONASTERY.    APPROACHING DAWN.

Kip has pulled out all of Hardy's gear.  Now he starts on the tent.  
Hana comes out into the step.  Kip turns, his eyes brimming, sees her, 
sighs, then turns back and kicks at the pegs, collapsing the tent.

Now he's trying to fold a shirt.  Hana takes it from him.  She folds 
it.  Then together they start to fold the tent, Kip orchestrating, not 
wanting to talk.  Finally, Kip looks at Hana, stiff with emotion.

			KIP
		I was thinking yesterday - yesterday! -
		the Patient, 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 -
				(incredulous)
		he was engaged to a girl in the village! -
		I mean -
				(looks at Hana)
		and us - he never once... He didn't
		ask me if I could spin the ball at
		cricket or the kamasutra or -
		I don't even know what I'm 
		talking about.

			HANA
		You loved him.


169*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    EVENING.

Caravaggio, reading Dante aloud in Italian, smoking, walks over to the 
window, looks out.


169*.	EXT.    KIP'S TENT.    EVENING.

Hana is approaching Kip's tent, carrying a light.  She ducks inside the 
tent and the light disappears.


169b*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    EVENING.

Caravaggio turns back into the room, towards the Patient, still 
reading.


170	INT.    KIP'S TENT.    NIGHT.

Hana lies over Kip, unraveling his turban, slowly, sensual.

			HANA
		If one night I didn't come to the tent,
		what would you do?
			KIP
		I try not to expect you.

			HANA
		But if it got late and I hadn't shown up?

			KIP
		Then I'd think there must be a reason.

			HANA
		You wouldn't come to find me?
				(Kip shrugs)
		That makes me never want to come here.

But she continues unraveling the turban.

			HANA
		Then I tell myself he spends all
		day searching, in the night he
		wants to be found.


171*.	EXT.   BASECAMP AT THE CAVE OF SWIMMERS.  1939.  DAY.

The Expedition Team is packing up the Basecamp.  Madox and Almásy are 
loading things into the plane.  FOUAD, AL AUF and others work at the 
cars.

			MADOX
		Had a letter from my wife.  The wisteria
		is still out, which I'm looking forward
		to.  She says Dorset is gripped with
		Invasion Fever.  Wrong coast I
		should have thought, still...

			ALMÁSY
		Right.

			MADOX
		Bermann thinks he'll be interned,
		poor fellow.  I'm going to do what
		I can, but...  And D'Ag turns out 
		to be a great admirer of Mussolini.
		So now you can say I told you so.

			ALMÁSY
		I told you so.

			MADOX
		We didn't care about countries.
		Did we?  Brits, Arabs, Hungarians,
		Germans.  None of that mattered,
		did it?  It was something finer than that.

			ALMÁSY
		Yes.  It was.  Thanks for the compass.
		I'll look after it for you.

			MADOX
				(shrugging this off)
		When's Clifton picking you up?

			ALMÁSY
		Tomorrow afternoon.  Don't worry.
		I'll be ready.

			MADOX
		I'll leave the plane in the hangar at
		Kufra Oasis.  So if you need it...hard to
		know how long one's talking about.  We
		might all be back in a month or two.

Madox kneels and takes A HANDFUL OF SAND, puts it into his pocket.  He 
throws his haversack into the plane then turns.  Almásy puts out a 
hand.  This is a moment of great emotional weight for them both, 
conducted as if nothing were happening.

			MADOX
		I have to teach myself not to read
		too much into everything.  Comes of
		too long having to read so much into
		hardly anything at all.

			ALMÁSY
		Goodbye, my friend.

They shake hands.

			MADOX
		May God make safety your companion.

			ALMÁSY
				(a tradition)
		There is no God.
				(smiles)
		But I hope someone looks after you.

Madox clambers into his plane, then remembers something, jabs at his 
throat.

			MADOX
		In case you're still wondering - this
		is called the supasternal notch.

Almásy nods, goes to the propeller.

			MADOX
		Come and visit us in Dorset.  When
		all this nonsense is over.
				(then shrugs)
		You'll never come to Dorset.

The plane roars into life.  Almásy watches it taxi away - then heads 
back to continue with his packing up.


172*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

MADOX SHOOTS HIMSELF BEHIND THE ALTAR IN THE ROOM.  The Patient's 
stertorous breathing, each intake accompanied by a small noise, a note, 
suddenly stops.  Then steadies again.  He appears to be alone.


173	EXT.    GARDEN.    NIGHT.

Kip is in the tent, looking out of the flap, waiting for Hana.


174*.	INT.    THE MONASTERY KITCHEN.    NIGHT.

Kip walks in looking for Hana.


174a*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

Kip enters, sees Hana is not with the Patient, hears his uneven 
breathing, then goes out.  From the shadows of the room, CARAVAGGIO 
shifts position.   He's slumped on the floor, staring at the man prone 
in the bed.


174b*.	INT.    HANA'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

Into her bedroom, Kip can't find her there either.  He turns to go, 
walking down the wooden stairs, until her voice stops him in his 
tracks.  She's in the shadows of the eaves.

			HANA
		Sometimes I need you to find me.


175*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.     NIGHT.

The Patient's eyes open to see Caravaggio at the morphine.

			THE PATIENT
		Hana tells me you're leaving.

			CARAVAGGIO
				(preparing the injection)
		There are going to be trials, they
		want me to interpret, don't they
		know I'm allergic to courtrooms?

			THE PATIENT
		We shall miss you.

He delivers the injection.  The Patient sighs.  Caravaggio takes off 
his jacket.  A pistol is stuck in his waistband.  The Patient sees it.

			CARAVAGGIO
		So, I come across the Hospital Convoy
				(holds up the syringe)
		I was looking for this stuff, and some
		nurse, Mary, Hana's friend, tells me
		about you and Hana, hiding in a
		monastery, in purdah, whatever it is -
		retreat -
				(he administers his own injection, 
using his teeth grip the sleeve)
		how you'd come in from the Desert
		and you were burned and you didn't
		know your name but you knew the
		words to every song there was and
		you had one possession -
				(picks it up)
		#NAME?
		full of letters and cuttings, and then
		I knew it must be you.

			THE PATIENT
		Me?

			CARAVAGGIO
		I'd seen you writing in that book.  
		At the Embassy in Cairo, when I
		had thumbs and you had a face.
		And a name.

			THE PATIENT
		I see.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Before you went over to the Germans,
		before you got 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 they made an impression.  

			THE PATIENT
		And you thought you'd come and
		settle the score?

			CARAVAGGIO
		You were the only man who knew
		the desert well enough, the only
		man who would cross seventeen
		hundred miles of nothing.

			THE PATIENT
		I had to get back to the desert. I made a
		promise.  The rest meant nothing to me.

			CARAVAGGIO
		What did you say?

			THE PATIENT
		The rest meant nothing to me.

			CARAVAGGIO
		There was a result to what you did.
		It wasn't just another expedition.
				(holds up hands)
		It did this.  If the British hadn't
		unearthed your nosey photographer
		in Cairo thousands of people could
		have died.

			THE PATIENT
		Thousands of people did die, just
		different people.

			CARAVAGGIO
		But you were among the British, they 
		were your friends - why betray them?

			THE PATIENT
				(a bitter laugh)
		Is that what you thought?  That I
		betrayed the British?  The British
		betrayed me.  The British betrayed me.


176*.	EXT.   BASECAMP AT CAVE OF SWIMMERS.   1939.   DAY.

Almásy sits on a ridge transferring map of information from his 
Herodotus onto a sheet of paper.  He looks up at the sound of Clifton's 
approaching Steerman.  He folds up the map and sticks it inside one of 
Clifton's CHAMPAGNE BOTTLES and lodges it between the rocks.

 
176a*.	INT.    STEERMAN.    DAY.

Clifton is flying the STEERMAN up to Gilf Kebir.  From the air it's 
possible to make out Almásy scrambling down from the ridge towards 
where the stones indicate a landing area, carrying the last of the 
materials from the Cave of Swimmers.  Almásy waves in recognition and 
welcome.


177	EXT.   BASECAMP AT THE CAVE OF SWIMMERS.   DAY.

Almásy watches as the plane drops towards him, shielding his eyes 
against the sun.  the plane bounces along the runway, not quite 
landing.  Almásy continues packing the equipment.

Almásy looks up to see the plane swerve, now suddenly HEADING STRAIGHT 
TOWARDS HIM.  He's completely vulnerable, nowhere to run.  He dives at 
the ground.  THE PLANE SMASHES AGAINST AN INVISIBLE RIDGE AND TURNS 
OVER AND OVER, the wings snapping off like twigs as it hurtles past the 
prostrate Almásy.  He gets to his feet and starts to run towards the 
wreckage.

A blue line of smoke is uncoiling from the plane, but no fire.  Almásy 
pulls away the debris to find  GEOFFREY - SLUMPED, NECK BROKEN, BLOODY.  
He tries to move him, and in the process reveals, to his ABSOLUTE 
horror, KATHARINE, STARING GRIMLY AHEAD, UNABLE TO MOVE.  He's frantic.

			ALMÁSY
		Katharine!  Oh dear God, Katharine -
		what are you doing here?

			KATHARINE
				(eyes rolling, an incredible weariness)
		I can't move.  I can't get out.

Almásy starts to pull at the wreck around her.
DURING THIS -

			ALMÁSY
		Why did he bring you?

			KATHARINE
		A surprise, he said.

Almásy inspects Clifton, tries to find a pulse.  The smoke circles 
around them.  Katharine looks at her husband.

			KATHARINE
		Poor Geoffrey.  He knew.  He must
		have known all the time.  He was
		shouting - I love you, Katharine, 
		I love you so much.  Is he badly hurt?
		His neck is odd.

Almásy puts his arm around Katharine to try and pull her clear.  She 
can't stand the pain.

			KATHARINE
		Please don't move me.  It hurts too much.

			ALMÁSY
		We've got to get you out of here.

			KATHARINE
		It hurts too much.

			ALMÁSY
				(can't bear to hurt her)
		I know, darling, I'm sorry.

The smoke thickens.  He pulls - hard - the pain from which causes 
Katharine to gasp, then pass out.  They slip haphazardly to the ground, 
cushioned a little by the sand.  He lifts her gently into his arms and 
carries her from the danger of the place, then turns and runs back.  
THE PLANE SUDDENLY ERUPTS IN FLAMES.  Almásy dashes into the fire, 
disappearing into the smoke before emerging with Clifton over his 
shoulder, fireman's-lift style.


178	EXT.    THE CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    DAY.

He has WRAPPED KATHARINE IN THE SILK FOLDS OF HER PARACHUTE and emerges 
from the near the familiar cleft in the rock, struggling with the 
exertion of the climb as they approach the Cave of Swimmers.  He has a 
large water bottle slung around his neck and a haversack, and is loaded 
like a pack horse.  Katharine opens her eyes.

			KATHARINE
				(whispering)
		Why did you hate me?

			ALMÁSY
		What?

			KATHARINE
		Don't you know you drove everybody mad?

			ALMÁSY
		Don't talk.

			KATHARINE
				(gasping)
		You speak so many bloody languages
		and you never want to talk.

They stagger on.  He suddenly notices a stain of gold at her neck.  
It's saffron, leaking from a silver THIMBLE which hangs from a black 
ribbon.

			ALMÁSY
				(overwhelmed)
		You're wearing the thimble.

			KATHARINE
		Of course.  You idiot.  I always wear it.
		I've always worn it.  I've always loved you.

Almásy CRIES as he walks - huge sobs, no words - convulsed with the 
pain of it.  They approach the Cave.


179*.	INT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    DAY.

Almásy comes through in shadows, carrying Katharine, blocking out the 
light that pours into the entrance of the cave.  Once inside, he sets 
her down incredibly gently, makes a bed of blankets and the parachute.  
He turns on his flashlight.

			KATHARINE
		It's so cold.

			ALMÁSY
		I know.  I'm sorry.  I'll make a fire.
		I'll be back.

			KATHARINE
				(panicking suddenly)
		Don't leave me!

			ALMÁSY
		I'm just going to find things for the fire.


179a*.	INT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    TORCHLIGHT.

Almásy returns with the stocks of ACACIA TWIGS the Expedition had 
cached.  As he makes the fire, the light sends his shadow flitting 
across the walls.

			KATHARINE
		Shall we be all right?

			ALMÁSY
		Yes.  Absolutely.

			KATHARINE
				(with a laugh)
		Oh dear.

			ALMÁSY
				(as he works)
		Listen to me, Katharine.  You've broken
		your ankle and I'm going to have to try
		and bind it.  I think your wrist might be
		broken, too - and some ribs, which is
		why it's hurting you to breathe.  I'm
		going to have to walk to El Taj.  Given
		all the traffic in the desert these days
		I should bump into one army or another
		before I reach there - or Fenelon-Barnes
		and his camel.  And then I'll be back 
		and we'll be fine, and I'll never leave you.

The fire is lit and he comes over to her, kneels beside her.

			KATHARINE
		Do you promise?  I wouldn't want to die
		here.  I wouldn't want to die in the desert.
		I've always had a rather elaborate funeral
		in mind, with particular hymns.  Very
		English.  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 you.

			ALMÁSY
		I promise I'll come back.  I promise
		I'll never leave you.  And there's
		plenty of water and food.  You
		can have a party.

He kisses her tenderly.  Pulls out his HERODOTUS and lays it beside 
her.  Then he puts down the FLASHLIGHT.

			ALMÁSY
		And a good read.
				(of the flashlight battery)
		Don't waste it.

			KATHARINE
		Thank you.
				(clouds over)
		Will you bury Geoffrey?  I know
		he's dead.

			ALMÁSY
		I'm sorry, Katharine.

			KATHARINE
		I know.

			ALMÁSY
		Every night I cut out my heart but 
		in the morning it was full again.

He's tearing strips from the parachute with his knife.  As he starts to 
bind her wrist he gets her to talk, trying to distract her from the 
pain.

			ALMÁSY
		Tell me about your garden.

			KATHARINE
				(tries to focus)
		Our Garden, our garden - not so much
		the garden, but the copse alongside it,
		wild, a secret way plunging down to the
		shore and then nothing but water
		between you and France.  The Devil's
		Chimney it was called -
				(he pulls tight on the binding)
		The Devil's Chimney, I don't know why.
				(he kisses her)
		Darling.  My darling.


180	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DUSK.

ALMÁSY BURYING CLIFTON.  He's dug a narrow trench, and now he goes to 
the body.  Clifton's face is oil stained, bloody.  Almásy takes his 
handkerchief and, pouring his precious water into it, CLEANS GEOFFREY'S 
FACE.

			THE PATIENT'S (O/S)
		Seventy miles, north - north west.
		I had Madox's compass.  A man can
		walk in the desert as fast as a camel.
		That's about two and a half miles an hour.


181	EXT.    THE DESERT.    NIGHT.

Alamos's walking.  He slides and collapses as he misjudges a dune, gets 
up, stumbles on.

			THE PATIENT (O/S)
		I stopped at noon and at twilight.
		Three days there, I told her, then
		three hours back by jeep.  Don't go
		anywhere.  I'll be back.


182	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DAWN.

He trudges on, his eyes opening and closing.  He's singing to keep 
awake.  Darktown Strutter's Ball. - I'll be down to get you in the 
taxi, honey...  He does a little shuffle.  Looks behind at the crazy 
trail of his footprints.


182a*.	EXT.    THE CHOTT.    DAWN.

A vast flat expanse of dried salt lake.  A remorseless horizon.  Almasy 
walks, checking the compass, squinting at the sun.  then he sees a 
cloud of dust traveling across the horizon.  It comes closer moving at 
great speed, reveals itself.  An OSTRICH.


183	EXT.    WELL.    DAY.

Almásy lowers himself by an old rope down into a gully.  He approaches 
a pile of stones and removes them to reveal a brackish pool of filthy 
water.  He drinks, pouring water over his head, grimacing at the taste, 
but parched too.


184*.	EXT.    APPROACHING EL TAJ.    DAY.

Almásy gets his first sight of the fortress town of EL TAJ and sinks to 
his knees, in relief and exhaustion.  Then he gets up and trudges 
towards the town.  A CORPORAL with a rifle in his hands appears.


184a*.	INT.    EL TAJ.    DAY.

The Corporal brings Almásy into a square.  A young OFFICER appears from 
the shadows of his office.  His JEEP is parked in the shade.

			OFFICER
		Good morning!

			ALMÁSY
		Could I trouble you for some water?

			OFFICER
				(registering the accented English)
		Yes, of course.
				(the Corporal has a water bottle,
hands it to Almásy)
		So, golly, where have you come from?

			ALMÁSY
				(gulping the water)
		I desperately need a jeep.  There's
		been an accident.

			OFFICER
		I see.

			ALMÁSY
				(brain racing)
		No, I'm not thinking clearly - I need
		a doctor too, to come with me, can I
		take this vehicle?  I'll pay, of course -
		and some morphine and...
				(calculating)
		Seventy miles - I can be back
		here by dusk.

			OFFICER
		Do you have your papers, sir?

			ALMÁSY
		What?

			OFFICER
		If I could just see some identification.

			ALMÁSY
		Am I not talking sense? -  forgive me,
		I'm, I've been walking, I've - there's a
		woman badly injured at Gilf Kebir,
		in the Cave of Swimmers.  I am a
		member of the Royal Geographical
		Society.

			OFFICER
		Right.  And what's your name, sir?

			ALMÁSY
		Count Laszlo de Almásy.

The Officer is writing this down.  A glance at his Corporal.

			OFFICER
		Almásy - would you mind just
		spelling that for me?  What
		nationality would that be?

			ALMÁSY
		Look, listen to me.  A woman is dying -
		my wife! - is dying seventy miles from
		here.  I have been walking for three
		days!  I don't want to spell my name, 
		I want you to give me this jeep!

			OFFICER
				(writing)
		I understand you are agitated -
		perhaps you would like to sit down
		while I radio back to HQ -

			ALMÁSY
				(snapping)
		No!  NO!  Don't radio anybody,
		just give me the fucking jeep!

Almásy sets on the Officer, hauling him by the lapels, but them 
immediately loses his balance.  As he stumbles up he gets the stock of 
the Corporal's RIFLE across his head, KNOCKING HIM TO THE GROUND.


185*.	EXT.   EL TAJ STREET.    DAY.

Almásy, head pounding, is in the back of the jeep, chained to the 
tailgate.  He's desperate.  The Corporal is driving.

			ALMÁSY
				(shouting hoarse)
		Hey!  Hey!  Stop this jeep!  Let me
		out of here - there's a woman dying,
		there's a woman dying while I'm - Hey!

			CORPORAL
		Shut-up!

			ALMÁSY
		Please - I beg you, I beg you, I beg you,
		please listen to me, this is a terrible
		mistake.  Just stop, please, and
		listen to me.  My wife is dying.

			CORPORAL
		Listen, Fritz, if I have to listen
		to another word from you I'll
		give you a fucking good hiding.

			ALMÁSY
		Fritz?  What are you talking about?
		Who's Fritz?

			CORPORAL
		That's your name innit?  Count
		Fucking Arsehole Von Bismarck?
		What's that supposed to be then, Irish?

Almásy, berserk, starts to yank at his chains, screaming.

			ALMÁSY
		Let me out, let me out, let me out -
		Katharine!  Katharine!


186	INT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    TORCHLIGHT.

Katharine has been writing in the Herodotus.  The torchlight FLICKERS.  
She shakes the torch.   It FLICKERS again.  Then goes out.  Absolute 
BLACKNESS.  The sound of her trembling breath.


187*.	EXT.    A TRAIN.    THE DESERT.    DUSK.

A TRAIN scuttles through the desert.


187a*.	INT.    THE TRAIN.    THE DESERT.    DUSK.

Almásy is HANDCUFFED to the metal grille of the goods compartment.  
He's lying down amongst a bunch of other prisoners and their little 
bundles of possessions in this makeshift cell - some Arabs, some 
Italians.

A SERGEANT pushes a lavatory-bound prisoner along the corridor, leaving 
behind A YOUNG PRIVATE who sits on a packing case, with a rifle across 
his lap, reading a Penguin edition of Gulliver's Travels.  Almásy is in 
complete despair to be on the train.  He tries to move, but he's locked 
tight to the grille.  He rattles the cuffs against the metal.

			ALMÁSY
		Excuse me.
				(the Soldier looks up)
		I also need to use the lavatory.

			SOLDIER
		You'll have to wait.
				(calls up the corridor)
		Sarge!  Jerry wants to use the lav -
		says it's urgent.

			ALMÁSY
		Where are we going, please?

			SOLDIER
		To the coast.  Benghazi.  Soon be there.
		Get a boat home.  You'll be all right.

ALMÁSY CAN'T BEAR THIS NEWS.  The SERGEANT returns.

			SERGEANT
		What's up?

			ALMÁSY
		Cramps.  It's urgent.

			SERGEANT
		Go on then - you take him.


188	INT.    THE TRAIN CORRIDOR.    THE DESERT.    DAY.

The Soldier pushes Almásy along the corridor.  They arrive outside the 
lavatory.  The Soldier is distracted for a split second.  Enough for 
Almásy to ELBOW HIM savagely in the stomach, winding him, then he KICKS 
HIM REPEATEDLY in the head.  He wraps his cuffs around the Soldier's 
neck and - yanking them together and twisting - produces a tiny, 
efficient and sickening snap.

He finds the KEY to the handcuffs, unlocks them, grabs the soldier and 
drags him into the empty lavatory.


189	INT.    TRAIN.    THE DESERT.    EVENING.

Almásy arrives at the rear of the train, passes the Kitchen carriage, 
where Arabs sweat over the boiler.  He pulls open the back door only to 
surprise a GUARD, who's lolling casually, enjoying the sunset.  Almásy 
SHOOTS HIM with his stole rifle.  He clambers over the guard rail and 
leaps off the train - tumbling into the desert sunset.


190	EXT.    RAILWAY TRACK.    THE DESERT.    EVENING.

Almásy, silhouetted against the evening sky, walks back down the track, 
THREE HUNDRED MILES AWAY from the dying Katharine Clifton, no way now 
of saving her.  He is a tiny speck in the vast desert.  His heart 
broken.  He sinks to his knees in despair.


191*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    NIGHT.

The Patient is exhausted.  He has said aloud what has tortured him.  
His failure to save Katharine.  He looks at Caravaggio.

			THE PATIENT
		So yes.  She died because of me.
		Because I loved her.  Because I 
		had the wrong name.


192	INT.    THE MONASTERY STABLES.    DAY.

Kip is working at a BLACKSMITH'S FORGE in the Stables.  He is heating 
pieces of metal.  He has arranged his material on a bench - a bayonet, 
a rifle, a piece of bomb casting.

	Hana enters, goes up, hugs him from behind.

			HANA
		What are you up to?

			KIP
		That gun at Lahor, Kipling's cannon -
		Zamzammah - remember?  That was 
		made out of the metal of ordinary things.  
		I want to make an ordinary thing
		out of guns.

His bayonet is thrust into the forge.  It's red hot.

			KIP
		When I went to England I was amazed at
		what went on, the waste - I'd been taught
		to re-use everything, the dung from a cow
		to cool a radiator, a fork to fix a
		typewriter - India could live for a 
		hundred years on what I saw thrown away.

			HANA
		I should go to the house, get breakfast.

			KIP
		The lamp was burning all night in his
		room.  Caravaggio was there with him.

She goes to kiss him.   He is over the fire and protests.

			KIP
		This is hot!

			HANA
				(teasing him)
		Nya-nya-nya!


193*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Caravagio is injecting the Patient with morphine.

			CARAVAGGIO
		And did you never see Katharine?  You
		never got back to the Cave?

			THE PATIENT
		Yes, I got back there finally to keep
		my promise.  To come back for her.
		And then of course I couldn't... I
		couldn't even do that properly.


194	INT.    THE MONASTERY STABLES.    DAY.

Kip hammers the metal into its new shape.  He stops, distracted by 
something he's listening to on his crystal set.  It's new he seems not 
to fully understand, about a bomb dropping on Japan.  A NEW KIND OF 
BOMB.

THE METAL GLOWS A VIVID RED ON THE ANVIL.
Suddenly Kip slops it into the trough of water, sending a great hissing 
column of steam.


195*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Caravaggio sits by the Patient.

			CARAVAGGIO
		You get to the morning and the
		poison leaks away, doesn't it?
		Black nights, fucking black nights,
		when you want to howl like a dog.
		I thought I would kill you.  You
		killed my friends, you ruined my
		hands.  But the girl was always
		here, like some Guardian Angel.

			THE PATIENT
		You can't kill me.  I died years ago.

			CARAVAGGIO
		No, now I can't kill you.

Kip storms into the room, walks straight up to the Patient and POINTS A 
GUN AT HIM.  Caravaggio is taken by surprise.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Kip - what are - ?

			KIP
		Stay out of this.

			THE PATIENT
		Kip?

			KIP
		I looked up to you, Uncle.  My brother
		always said I was a fool.  Never trust the
		British, he said: the deal-makers, the
		map-makers; never shake hands with them.

			THE PATIENT
		What are you talking about?

			KIP
		What have I been doing all this time?
		Do you know how many mines I've seen? -
		more mines than there are soldiers, more -
		how many mines we've put in the ground
		ourselves, stuffed in corpses, dropped
		out of the sky.  And now this.

He approaches the bed.  Caravaggio tries to intervene.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Kip, listen -

Kip sings the rifle at him, KNOCKING HIM to the floor.

			KIP
		I said keep out of this!

He pulls of his earphones and rams them around the Patient's head, 
dropping the set onto the bed.  The Patient listens, coughing.

			KIP
		Can you hear?  Can you hear what they're
		celebrating?  I listened to you, Uncle.
		Sitting at your feet - always sitting at
		somebody's feet - trying to learn.  The
		right way to hold a teacup, otherwise
		you're out, the pukkah knot in your tie -
		as if everything can be explained in
		terms of a cricket bat and an accent.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Kip -

			KIP
		Kip! - it's not even my name because
		you can't say it.  Kirpal Singh Bhuller
		is my name.

Hana runs in, alerted by the commotion, stunned by what she sees.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Well, then ask him his name!

			HANA
				(getting in between Kip and the Patient)
		What's happened?  Kip!  What's happening?
		Don't shoot, please, don't shoot anybody.

			KIP
		They're excited!  They're happy about
		destroying a whole city.  Would they
		do that to a White Man's City?  Never!

			THE PATIENT
				(pulling off the earphones)
		Go on, do it.  I don't need to hear any more.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Kip, listen, he lost everything because
		he wasn't English - Jesus! - shoot me,
		I'm more English than he is!

Kip levels the gun at the Patient.  Then breaks it open, throws it down 
on the bed, next to the earphones, from which the news continues to 
leak, some words audible - Eunola Gay... Hiroshima... and from 
different voices - It was beautiful!  just beautiful!  Bang! the 
biggest bang you ever saw!


196	EXT.    KIP'S TENT.    LATE DAY.

Hana approaches.  Kip is inside the tent, the flap zipped.  She sees 
his shadow move, then freeze as she calls his name.  It's like a 
confessional.  The flap between them, the man in shadows, Hana 
crouched, forlorn.

			HANA
		Kip.  Kip.  It's me.
				(no response)
		Why?  It's another bomb.  However
		big, what's the difference?  There've
		been so many bombs.  What about
		Coventry?  What about Dresden?
		Where were those cities?
				(no response)
		I don't understand.  Let me come in.

The shadow doesn't move.  Hana is at a loss.


197	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    EVENING.

The Patient becomes aware of something in the room, opens his eyes, 
squints into the darkness and sees A FIGURE hovering against the wall.  
He's in the Cave, he thinks, he's seeing the painted figures moving, 
he's seeing the Swimmer.

KIP - bare chested, no turban, hair loose - stands in the shadows at 
the foot of the Patient's bed.


198	INT.    HANA'S ROOM.    EVENING.

Kip comes into the room.  Hana sits in the corner.  She is nervous of 
him, his look, his intensity.

			KIP
		Will you come with me?

			HANA
		Of course.  When?

			KIP
		I mean home.  India.

			HANA
		Kip... I -

			KIP 
				(interrupting this)
		I know - here I am always a brown man,
		there you would be always a white woman.

			HANA
		Is that what you think?  Is that what
		you think I think?

			KIP
		It's what I've learned.

			HANA
		I'm thinking about your heart, not
		your skin.  And how to reach it.  And
		that I don't think I can.  A bomb
		has ruined us, just not the bomb
		I thought would ruin us.

She stands, goes to him.

			HANA
		I've clung to you.  I've clung to you.
		Kip.  Life  a raft.  

			KIP 
				(clinging to her)
		Then come with me.


199	EXT.    THE MONASTERY.    DAY.

Next morning and Kip has attached what he was making in the forge - A 
NEW HANDLE - to the pump.  Now he works it, producing a steady stream 
of water.  His motorbike is against the wall.  He goes to it.  
Caravaggio is watching.  He hugs Kip, wrapping his arms around the boy 
like a bear.


199a*.	EXT.    HANA'S VEGETABLE GARDEN.    DAY.

HANA stands by her Vegetable Garden.  Kip stops the motorbike.  She 
goes to him, stands, FASTENS THE TOP BUTTON of his coat.  You feel she 
might jump on the seat behind him.  But she doesn't.

			HANA
		I'll always go back to that church.
		Look at my painting.

			KIP
		I'll always go back to that church.

			HANA
		So one day we'll meet.

He nods, winds up the throttle, and is gone.


200	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

Hana comes in carrying FLOWERS and sets them down on the table next to 
a clutch of MORPHINE AMPOULES.  She picks up the hypodermic to prepare 
his injection.  She takes a phial.  THE PATIENT REACHES OUT AND PUSHES 
TWO MORE TOWARDS HER.   THEIR EYES MEET, THEN HE SHOVELS ANOTHER, THEN 
ALL OF THEM.  She looks at him.  IT'S A MASSIVE, LETHAL DOSE.

Hana starts to prepare the injection, her eyes filling with tears.  The 
Patient nods, smiles, whispers.

			THE PATIENT
		Thank you.  Thank you.

She kisses him, gently on the mouth.  He closes his eyes.

			THE PATIENT
		Read to me, will you?  Read me to sleep.


201*.	EXT.(NEAR THE) BASECAMP. CAVE OF SWIMMERS. 1942. DAY.

The familiar cleft in the rocks.  A PLANE is coming in to land.


202	INT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    TORCHLIGHT.

A flashlight flickers in the cave.  ALMÁSY APPEARS.

KATHARINE'S CORPSE lies where he left her - a ghost on a bed of silk 
and blankets.  The chill of the cave has preserved her.  She could be 
asleep.  She clutches the Herodotus.

			ALMÁSY
		Katharine, my darling.

He sobs, whispering to her.  He's terribly cold, exhausted.  He slips 
underneath the covers to be next to her, and closes his eyes.

			ALMÁSY
		I'm so tired.


203*.	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

The Patient is slipping away.  Hana is reading from the last pages of 
the Herodotus where KATHARINE HAS WRITTEN IN THE MARGINS.

			HANA
		My darling, I'm waiting for you - how
		long is a day in the dark, or a week?

The Patient looks across AND WHAT HE SEES IS KATHARINE BESIDE HIM IN 
THE BED, SMILING, STROKING HIS HEAD, SPEAKING TO HIM.


204	INT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    FLASHLIGHT.

Katharine is writing.  The FLASHLIGHT is faint.  She shivers.

			KATHARINE (O/S)
		...the fire is gone now, and I'm
		horribly cold.  I really ought to
		drag myself outside but then
		there would be the sun...

She passes the flashlight across the wall, the painted figures dancing 
in the pale light.

			KATHARINE (O/S)
		I'm afraid I waste the light on the 
		paintings and on writing these words...


205	INT.    THE PATIENT'S ROOM.    DAY.

THE BED IS EMPTY, THE MATTRESS STRIPPED.  Hana stands in the doorway, 
then sees THE HERODOTUS on the bedside table.

She picks it up, goes to the page of Katharine's letter, continues to 
read.

			KATHARINE (O/S)
		We die, we die rich with lovers and
		tribes, tastes we have swallowed...


206*.	EXT.    LANE OUTSIDE THE MONASTERY GARDEN.    DAY.

Caravaggio is at the gate to the Monastery.  The TRUCK we saw before is 
waiting with him.  The PARTISAN with his head bandana and shotgun 
remains the same, but now there are CHILDREN in the back and a WOMAN 
sits behind the man, nursing a two-year-old.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Hana!  Come on!

He gets up into the BALUSTRADE, tentatively finds his balance, then 
starts to walk, heel to toe - slowly, and then with more confidence - 
along the long thin line of stone.  The children watch intently.  He 
turns and bows.

			KATHARINE (O/S)
		...bodies we have entered and swum up
		like rivers, fears we have hidden in
		like this wretched cave...


207*.	EXT.    THE MONASTERY CLOISTERS.    DAY.

Hana walks across the cloisters, passing the chalked hopscotch squares, 
leaving it all behind.  Then she stops, bends, retrieves A SNAIL SHELL, 
keeps going.  KATHARINE'S VOICE CONTINUES.


208	INT.    THE CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    TORCHLIGHT.

ALMÁSY SMUDGES KATHARINE'S PALE FACE WITH COLOR.  OCHRE across her 
brow, BLUE on her eyelids, RED on her lips.  He presses his cheek to 
hers, smoothes her hair.

			KATHARINE (O/S)
		...I want all this marked on my body.
		We are the real countries, not the
		boundaries drawn on maps with the
		names of powerful men...


209*.	EXT.    THE LANE OUTSIDE MONASTERY GARDEN.    DAY.

KATHARINE'S VOICE CONTINUES.  Hana comes out to the truck, carrying her 
small bundle.  Caravaggio effects some introduction, beginning with the 
woman driver, Gioia.  She and Caravaggio smile like lovers.

			CARAVAGGIO
		Hana - this is Gioia.

Gioia smiles, shakes her hand.  Then Hana meets the others - Gioia's 
brother and wife, their children.   She smiles at them.

			HANA
		Buon' giorno.

			CARAVAGGIO
		She can take you as far as Florence.

			HANA
		I can get in the back.

And she clambers up, sits down between the children.  They exchange 
some small stiff, shy smiles, and then the truck bounces away.  Hana 
takes one final look at the Monastery as it disappears around the bend 
and then turns and confronts the life insisting noisily in the truck.


210	EXT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    DAY.

Almásy comes out of the cave, carrying the bundle of Katharine in his 
arms, wrapped in the silks of her parachute.

			KATHARINE (O/S)
		...I know you will come and carry me
		out into the palace of winds, the rumors
		of water... That's all I've wanted -
		to walk in such a place with you, with
		friends, on earth without maps.


211	EXT.    TIGER MOTH.    DAY.

THE PLANE growls and complains into the air.


212	INT.    TIGER MOTH.    DAY.

INSIDE THE COCKPIT:  THE COUPLE AS AT THE FRONT OF THE FILM.  Almásy 
obliterated by goggles and helmet.  Katharine behind him, slumped 
forwards as if sleeping.

Almásy banks across the plateau of the Gilf Kebir and glances down.  In 
a ravine is a sudden OASIS OF WHITE ACACIAS.  He is mesmerized.

And then it's gone and he passes into the earth without maps - the 
desert - as it stretches out for mile after mile.

			KATHARINE (O/S)
		The lamp's gone out and I'm writing
		in the darkness...

Almásy, the English Patient, begins to sing - Szerelem, Szerelem - 
until that also fades and is replaced by the woman's tender lament 
heard at the beginning of the film, singing for all that has been lost.

The sound of gun fire...


THE END

 
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