Sinbad the Sailor

Sinbad the Sailor! Know me, O brothers, for the truth of my words

and by the ears of the Prophet, every word I've spoken IS truth.

There before me on that desolate island lay a rounding object, white as marble, mountainous.

It was the egg of that giant bird, the rook.

Imagine a clamour of wings of such magnitude the sky was curtained by their darkness.

I seized a great rock - a pygmy bearing thunder with a pebble.

I awaited a quick envelopment within that mammoth beak,

a painful voyaging down the gullet, oblivion within the cavern of that craw.

But, no, wondrous, this miracle of motherhood!

The rook, dear brothers, came merely to nest upon her egg.

So you fastened yourself to the leg of this flying monster and were borne safely back home to Persia(!)

-True.

-And that is the tale of your second voyage. You've recited it many times.

-True.

All the seven voyages are multiplied, like seven echoes returning.

And what astonishing voyages(!)

Why not astonishing? Sinbad is an astonishing sailor.

Citizen of the several seas, honorary wasir to the King of Wacq,

-anointed First Mariner of the Realm by our Caliph of Baghdad.

-Is that all(?)

Isn't that enough for a nobody from nowhere?

No, that ISN'T all. There are many titles. The lesser ones, I've forgotten.

But there's one I shall NEVER forget - Prince of Deryabar.

Deryabar?! No such place exists.

Deryabar - the island of the mountain and the star.

Look you at the medallion of Deryabar. It was worn by Alexander the Great.

Read the magic words that make a story for all true believers.

"In the eighth month the winds are willing." I've just returned from my eighth voyage.

Would you care to be astonished by the story?

Yes, Sinbad.

-..And you, my friend?

-Yes.

Well, in the eighth month of a year long ago,

a mighty conqueror of sea and land took his ships to hide on an obscure island.

He was a Westerner, called by our historians Alexander the Great...

Far across the sea in the land of Indus, there was a powerful Emir of Daibour.

The possession of power only made him sad.

Could he but find the gold of Alexander, how many kingdoms would be his?

In the mirror of his ambition,

he saw, not himself, but the face of a female who lived betimes in Basra, this very town of ours.

A two-faced female, if you choose. Her face and her face of the mirror.

Had you studied both faces, you would know, as I was to know,

her Emir of Daibour was a great ruler to her only because he was the greatest ruler she had yet met.

But let's not dwell ungently on the frailties of women.

Only the men of this tale give me displeasures without pleasures.

A worldly one called Melik sought out wise men to learn the whereabouts of Alexander's treasure

and dreamt never of maidens' caresses.

All he wanted was to hold the Earth in his arms. No man could name the many men who hungered after that!

But I could tell you of one without shape or substance,

a spirit of evil known only as Jamal,

who ransacked the cabin of a ship.

Jamal...

faceless, formless, like a genie from a jug...

on a ship that was marked for death by storm.

Unless the hand of Allah would spare her for Sinbad the Sailor and his old mate Abbu.

Look! The fishermen want that salvage prize.

Can you see the name?

The Prince Ahmed.

-She's beautiful.

-Too beautiful to die.

Hold course for Basra.

< CLATTER

She's ours by law of salvage.

They're making her fast to the quay.

All our plans, Sinbad. What a fine sum she'll bring! Remember the camels we planned to buy?

-Traders of the safe land for ever.

-Don't let those thieves come aboard.

They won't be any trouble. I told them she was a craft of the devil,

every plank reeking with Satan's plague.

-You don't think it's true?

-The crew died of poisoned drinking water.

I wasn't alarmed. But we'll sell her as quickly as possible, won't we?

Sinbad!

Sinbad...

-Why do you say Sinbad like that?

-Destiny. Prince Ahmed. A royal seal.

This was mine before my memory began.

Destiny.

Destiny!

-Prince Ahmed. Prince Ahmed.

-Are you sure?

No.

No.

But the chart might tell us everything, at least where the ship came from.

-What chart?

-It was there.

-They weren't all dead on this ship. Somebody's been in this cabin.

-Did you examine it closely?

-No, I...

I didn't. I... Only one word do I remember.

Deryabar.

Deryabar.

-Deryabar! The treasure isle of Alexander.

-There's no such place.

CLATTER Sinbad!

We have a ship to sell. Just think - camels, caravans, what she means to me.

Who can tell what she might mean to me?

DRUMS BEAT

Hear ye the word of Ossan Ben Altan Khan, keeper of the Port of Basra,

ordaining to be sold at public auction - the baggala Prince Ahmed!

MAN CALLS OUT IN ARABIC

Holding an auction! Holding an auction!

-The Khan's auctioneer's selling our ship.

-The elephant!

-..You're chanting a song of thieves.

-Could you but sing so sweet a profit, Sinbad.

-My tithes are better than the ship you fail to own.

-I'll go to Baghdad. I'll petition the Caliph.

-Huh!

You...! You...! You what? You.

-The law declares this ship is ours.

-The law is changed.

-Who could change it?

-I could. I did.

-Such a shabby law for such a rich baggala.

-Why...!

-Salaam, O Khan of Basra.

-Salaam.

Graciously rendered. You move me to benevolence.

-I grant you one fifth the auction price.

-One fifth?!

You are wearing contents of that ship.

Accept my bounty or I shall have you peeled as an orange.

O munificent Khan, what if there be no bids for this ship?

Then she'll carry your unscrupulous carcass from Basra!

If there be no bids, I will certify her to you as worthless.

May Allah enlarge you.

I share your concern, Captain Sinbad. What if there are no bids?

The Prince Ahmed, a royal baggala with a royal name.

Sound as the earth from mast to keel.

Five...five thousand bundles would not fill her hold.

Who will make me an offer, my lords?

Who will say...10,000 dinars?

10,000! Who'll say 10,000 for this priceless baggala, worth more than gold?

She is a fine baggala.

10,000 dinars, my lords, for the ship to make a palace blush. Who will offend me with an offer?

-Ah, were this purse all mine, I'd give you rivalry for that glory of the sea...

-No bid?

Since when has Basra been blind to a bargain? Come closer!

Feast your eyes on the fairest beauty afloat. Merchants of Basra,

are you modern men or steeped in the ignorance of ancient days?

I vow the wisdom of the ages belongs in Basra.

In superstitious Sapha they would not buy this gallant craft, but YOU would.

In that gaunt port, they speak of curses, they hold a childish fear of death. Ah-hah!

-I laugh as you laugh at their primeval...

-Holding an auction!

Has devil's pestilence made this baggala less seaworthy?

Have her golden lintels lost their sheen because Satan breathed on them? I think it not so.

I, who have seen the swollen faces of her dead, am not intimidated.

Verily, strong men could cast the demons from this ship and perhaps survive.

Holding an auction.

Voices of the strong, where are you? Bid! Bid! Bid!

Stay! Stay, my lords. Speak your own price.

5,000?

3,000?

Any thousand?

No bids.

No bids?

-No sale!

-No camels! You're not a very skilful seller.

-We'll claim the ship.

-Even that would require a transfer fee. We've nothing.

-Have faith in Sinbad.

< No bids? No bids? For this queen of the seas, who will pay 1,000 dinars?

< 1,000? 1,000?

-WOMAN:

-1,000.

1,000. 1,000 is bid by a flower of womanhood!

Oh, no, no, no!

Voice of heaven, why "no, no"?!

WE must have that ship.

-2,000.

-3,000.

3,000. You heard that. Sell it to her quickly.

My scorn has never been so great.

4,000.

5,000.

6,000.

..6,000 is a good price.

10,000 dinars.

-11,000. ..There are tasks for you at home.

-Impudence gains nothing.

-What of the neglected husband? No little ones to care for?

-15,000 dinars.

16,000. ..Bid again and I'll pluck your tongue for a tulip.

You make my sentiment costly. ..18,000 dinars.

-20,000! ..What is your sentiment? The silk of her sails? I'll send them to you.

-I pay for the name.

The Prince Ahmed. You couldn't send me a dream, could you?

Oh!

Or perhaps you COULD, Your Highness.

Highness?

Are you not the Prince of Deryabar?

Yes. Yes, to be sure.

20,000 dinars. I'm offered 20,000 dinars. I await.

HE SPEAKS IN ARABIC Will the lady offer 21,000? Please! Please, say it!

-How often the dream seeks out the dreamer!

-Even a prince can dream?

-Of sailing in your eyes.

-Puddles of loneliness.

-Seas of delight.

Ah, let me dream. Night breeze whispering its way to your heart, sails gently swelling.

On a ship prettily improved by a woman? Wine and pomegranates on the quarterdeck.

Fruit is sweet. My ship is your ship.

I must return to my house in the Street of the Three Moons.

The house with the tower that a blind man could scarcely fail to find.

I sit alone in the sixth hour of the night in my garden and meditate.

At the sixth hour, I will invade a lady's meditation.

Until tonight, O Prince.

Until tonight.

"O Prince"(!) "O Prince"(!)

You've ruined us.

All bids in? The baggala Prince Ahmed sold for 20,000 dinars to Sinbad the Sailor.

Some money in hand is customary for the good faith of a purchase.

-ALL money will be required of you.

-Money?

The baggala. You just bought her, didn't you? No money, no certificate of sale.

Oh, money!

-Lend me 20,000 dinars.

-I?! Lend you 20,000 what?!

-Pay him.

-With shells?

-Pay him now!

-But I...

-An hour ago, I saw the money which you now attempt to conceal from me.

-Just as you thought you saw a chart that wasn't there.

-Miser!

COINS JINGLE

Oh! Oh!

Oh, you mean THIS money?

-This old money.

-Naturally.

-Wait! You pay too much.

-We have plenty.

-All yours.

-Thank you.

-The ship is yours, Sinbad. Ah, but you're kind.

-We're both kind.

You sell me my own ship and I pay you in your own coin...of the realm.

An auction has been held!

Oh, why doesn't he come? I can't wait much longer.

Would the Emir mind waiting for the secret of Deryabar?

No chance when the richest man in the world bid against me.

-Perhaps my lady wastes her bloom on the Emir of Daibour.

-Perhaps.

-Daibour! Daibour!

-Bird of evil!

Go home to your evil master. Go home!

-You liked the look of your prince.

-Almost too princely for a prince.

More like some silken trader that knows his way to a bargain.

-He'll bring fine gifts, no doubt.

-It's customary.

But why should I tell our Emir anything I learn about Deryabar?

If I could prise the secret from Prince Ahmed, I'd hold the key of keys.

I could make Sheba look like a frump.

I believe his retinue approaches.

-Please, forget her.

-Unless the lady is sailing.

-She thinks you are rich.

She knows something of the treasure of Alexander.

If I can draw her secrets from her, we'll own 10,000 ships!

A danek for the blind, O mighty possessor of ships and caravans.

Tight of fist! May Allah wither your hand.

SPEAKS IN ARABIC

Beware the shore!

Bear south, brother! Bear south!

South?

Bear south!

Which way's south?

Come on! This way is south.

Prince Ahmed?

Yes.

-You've come unattended?

-Conveniently so, my lady.

You may present yourself.

Your Highness, Shireen of Baghdad, seventh daughter of Sheik Ali of Kurdistan.

Was that blood-drinking brigand your father?! You'll need some breaking to the bridle.

Oh! Burning bright.

O prince with seaman's manners,

a veil is drawn more gracefully when lowered by its owner.

-I no longer own this hand nor heart. They are both yours.

-Both empty, Your Highness?

Not filled with earthly offerings, that is true.

-But bearing gifts of dreams, far more precious than your diamonds and pearls from Daibour.

-Daibour?

-What could you know?

-I know all goods and markets. Don't ask hows or whys.

-So would any silk trader.

And so would Prince Ahmed, who knows all ports and all the islands of the sea.

You'll sail with me?

Where? In what direction is your course?

Toward Deryabar, beloved. Which course would you prefer?

The Prince of Deryabar asks ME of courses to Deryabar?

Or are you the Prince of Deryabar?

Sweet torturer.

When I looked at your face, I was numb from eye to thigh, forgetting pleasing words.

I doubt if you own the bones in your own skin.

O, hear me! I, who could give you everything, wish only to give you a gift from my heart.

Has any man given you a rose, Shireen?

Not since I lived in the brown hills.

Has any man told you that gold is a clod, jewels are the pebbles from the earth?

That truth wealth is all around? A man and woman together, my princess.

A prince and princess... could be together in a palace.

Yea, in a palace sky-tall of dome, lighted by the lamps of the stars.

Were you ever becalmed in a sea of almond?

Loneliness is wondrous when one isn't quite alone.

The fog is wine.

The sun is my gold.

I wanted no other.

I understand.

Then we'll sail?

-I don't know. With a prince of the unknown?

-He would never crush the rose.

-For ever he will keep it blooming.

-Please, let me think.

You couldn't understand what glories I'd be forsaking.

They'd mean nothing to one who has everything.

No, my faults are too many.

Faults?!

-You have none.

-Selfishness, greed.

-Oh!

O prince, for your own life's sake, come never to me again. Do not sail your ship ever.

-What eyes did you invite to watch us?

-None. I emptied the house to leave Basra.

-For Daibour?

-Daibour?

-What face did I see in the window?

-Face? I don't know.

Jamal! Jamal!

Jamal?

Quite a cock-a-hoop in Three Moon Street, eh?

Rather a shock to find you'd shipped with iron-hand Abbu.

You'll learn this is no rose garden. You'll discover who's master here.

-Where are we bound?

-The lady of the Street of the Three Moons warned of disaster if we sailed at all.

A charming time to tell me(!)

-When we clear the Gulf, set a course for Daibour.

-That nest of sea serpents?!

-Honest ships give it a wide berth. Daibour's emir lives on the blood of the sea.

-I searched Basra for her.

-Perhaps in Daibour we'll meet her again.

-Please stop saying "we".

-Share and share alike.

-I give you full title to anything you receive from future wielders of knives.

All the more reason to believe she knows something of Deryabar.

-Any planning to take its treasure would first remove its prince and heir.

-Prince? Heir?

You've convinced yourself, haven't you?

Being unknown to oneself, one can choose one's own destiny -

the son of a king of Deryabar as readily as a pauper's son.

Finding her, I may even find myself, as well as Alexander's treasure.

JAMAL! JAMAL!

-JAMAL!

-Jamal, Jamal, what did this Jamal look like?

-How do I know? I didn't see him.

Any one of them could be...

Yes. A sweet-scented flock of question marks.

-Where did you find them?

-In the hiring street at Basra.

-Are you so thirsty?

-But we might want a drink of water before we reach Daibour.

I could leave that stuff alone if you can.

-Which is the most useless?

-A ship's barber. He sits like a toad while others work.

And on my stern castle!

-You find my stern castle comfortable?

-Eminently so.

-A drink for His Eminence?

-Captain is kind.

-My barber is swollen with majesty.

-Each morning I will bring him a cup of water before

-I

-drink.

-Such kindness.

I, Abdul El Melik, was not always a barber.

Once, I was a physician in the court of kings.

Then cure yourself, Physician. The water may be poison.

Ship astern!

-An armed dromond.

-She has a ram like a tiger's tooth.

And a tower to hurl the fire of the Greeks.

With her speed, she could so easily overtake us.

Can you see the dromond's banner?

-When your captain speaks, answer!

-She wears no colours, Captain.

-She must! It's the law of the sea.

What law is stronger than strength?

Jamal!

Jamal!

-Your Highness doesn't wish to follow her?

-Steer toward her wake. Stay beyond the eyes of the lookout.

Tighter!

If she tries to return to Basra, we'll blockade her course.

-Eventually, she'll need provisions. Daibour is the only convenient port.

-Jamal! Jamal!

Keep that name out of your beak! Where have the winds been coursing you, my ugliness? Welcome home.

-Your Highness...

-Stand not by the sword arm, Muallin. The place of loyal men is at my left.

-Our Emir isn't afraid for me to sit at his right?

-Afraid?

You are my right hand - my right hand holding the secrets of Persia,

while left, glory to Islam, reaches for the kingdoms of the Hindi.

-Stay close to me, beloved. We'll ride the world like an elephant.

-Why should my lord want more power?

The happiest man I ever knew was a vagabond who loved ships.

-It made one happy just to be with him.

-Who was this man?

-What should it matter to one so great, O Shaker of the Earth?

-You've changed since we left Persia.

-Remember, only the steel in your blood has made you of use to me.

-Steel?

If your march of conquest came to my Kurdish hills, Father would've made a death mask of your dreams.

When you failed to buy the baggala with its charts, I had doubts.

-How could I know you were fishing for Prince Ahmed himself, to land at Daibour.

-Unless you were spying?

Allah forbid! I don't distrust you. Your snow-capped heart is fortress enough.

-Even in springtime?

-Even in the month of roses.

Shireen, in Daibour they're weaving a queen's robe. It's for you to choose whether or not to put it on.

If you choose to wear it, I'll know that paradise is in our palace.

OUR palace...

The course is southerly, beloved. May it bring you warmer dreams.

Monsoons are gentle. It is spring...isn't it?

Yes.

-You drink the ship's water and your health remains?

-Robust, Captain.

With each drop of the cooling elixir my spirits prance like a bear.

-Whoever do you think may have poisoned the ship's water?

-Jamal.

-Don't, Captain.

Sound the drums before you speak that name.

Oh, that? That's the metaphysical mumbo jumbo of the Western infidels,

taught by a dervish of my acquaintance.

He charged me and guaranteed absolute security.

-I could use some security. Who was this dervish?

-I was that dervish.

I've had many vocations in my span, failing at each.

Physician, dervish - I hope you're better at barbering.

-Tell me what you know of Jamal.

-Well, I was travelling on a ship from Calicut once.

I was an ambassador that time, entirely unqualified for the post, bearing letters of state.

It was during one of my bibulous periods - a weakness acquired while I was an unsuccessful wine seller.

I drank my own samples.

When I emerged from the vapours, the crew had all perished from poisoned water.

Jamal?

Who else would be so diabolically clever?

Why, the great Emir of Daibour admits that Jamal once made a public jackass of him,

through his agents - now, never did this genie reveal himself.

He sold the Emir charts purporting to lead to the treasure of Alexander.

Once, in the dead still middle of the night,

this ruler of Indus almost got the blade of a qatar in his ribs.

The very sort of weapon you're wearing, Captain.

-If I could only find a few on board this ship to trust.

-You could trust me...

if I weren't so ineffectual.

Barber, you're a mountain of knowledge. Tell me, what say the wagging tongues of Prince Ahmed?

Prince Ahmed? It is not unlikely, they say, that somebody will send him to his ancestors...

-before he reaches his golden isle.

-But I hear he's a splendid fellow.

I don't doubt it, but he has a vanity that marked him for doom.

For half a lifetime, he masked as a simple seaman.

No-one looked twice at the royal seal upon his breast.

Then one day he put on his princely robes.

Sesame - the gates to his secret were open.

-He was an idiot.

-Quite so.

Certainly not the wise son of the wise Aga of Deryabar who rediscovered Alexander's isle,

who knew such vast fortune was a tempter of death.

He hid his son among the multitudes, like a wheat straw in great fields of wheat.

But even the Aga's wisdom showed a weakness - love for his son.

And this baggala which he sent for him.

The Aga's was a good weakness, Captain Sinbad.

So many men's are evil.

Consider how many strong men could resist the taking of life

if they could gain one little token to wear, one mark of greatness,

that would give them everything?

Accept it, Highness - a gift to remember.

Can you spare a secret as well as a life?

Your faithful servant for ever... Prince Ahmed.

You are a man of character, Abdul El Melik.

And of good counsel, master. Don't go to Daibour.

Daibour!

Daibour!

Daibour!

Daibour!

I know, I know!

Sky skulker, your soul could be bought for a fat locust.

Captain!

The dromond.

-She must have passed us in the night.

-Sleek.

-So is a sabre-toothed tiger.

-If we'd wanted to die, why didn't we sail for Egypt? They wrap you for posterity.

-Dromond seems friendly.

She could have cracked this gilded eggshell in waters much lonelier.

..Keep her closer to the wind! Tend to your sheets!

At least there's prosperity here. Shall I open our hatch for trade?

-Those aren't bean sacks in the hold. They're gravel for balance.

-What?!

We might fill them with Deryabar's treasure...if that woman knows the whereto and if I can find her.

If, if - the familiar if!

When the moon tips to Cyprus, be ready with sail.

I promise you I'll have a cargo of wisdom.

By the Prophet, I believe I've sent you home.

You have feet to follow with, but no wings to bring you back.

I pray to you, master, don't go to the palace.

Pray not TO me, but FOR me, Melik.

Captain! Captain!

"Hear ye!

"Men of the Prince Ahmed, this vessel is impounded by state decree,

"sealed by the royal lock and seal of His Highness of Daibour."

I've the honour of taking the ship's master into custody. Where is he?

Quickly. Where is he?

Shireen!

Shireen!

Shireen.

-The very window I wanted to find!

-The women's quarters. We shouldn't even look at the window. Come!

Shall I choose one of their gates or shall I make one of my own?

What of the baggala in the harbour?

..Oh, if only you were half the oracle you pretend to be.

FANFARE >

"Men of Daibour, harken, harken!

"His exalted Highness, your Emir, does permit you to see justice done to criminal offenders

"for that sin of forbidden sins - the casting of eyes upon the unveiled females of his mightiness,

"the pure born, the Emir of Daibour.

"Hear ye, mark ye for the good of your souls..."

They lose their heads.

Eyes forward! Chin up front. Head up.

-Did I assign you this gate?

-I don't know. There are so many masters.

-Oh, the strangling robes of authority!

-How many guards are within?

-Eight in the first compound.

-Beyond?

-The women's quarters? Doubly guarded.

Thank you. I'll have you promoted for mental agility.

No! No! Come back!

Come back who? My friend Sinbad. They'll kill him.

Have no concern, my lady. No guards invade these quarters unless we give the alarm.

Allah is good - he must be to stand this house!

It's made of magic, truly. The gown His Highness told you of.

For the first flower of the East...

with covenants, provisos, conditions.

And so if I put it on, I won't own the gown, the gown will own me.

The gown AND the Emir of Daibour.

How many women would love to be so possessed?

How many women have never loved at all?

I vow that thing would scratch the hide. Fetch me something silky.

No jewels, and fasten a rose on it.

A rose, my lady?

The rose of a certain prince will always be remembered.

Has ever she spoken so tenderly of any other man?

Ahmed!

Nothing but sheer gossamer, beloved, risen from the Street of the Three Moons.

Get out, quickly! Leave at once or I'll... Pirouze, call the guards.

Call them.

Don't!

-Let him stay and have his head lopped off.

-It's a pleasing head.

-She doesn't mean it. You heard her speak her devotions for me.

-Yes.

-Why? I warned you.

-Why does the bee fly into the claw flower?

-He loves the smell of beauty though he die.

-These claws don't exist.

-The one that struck me in your house was real.

-I thought we were alone.

-Words!

-If I had thrown the blade, you'd never have set sail.

-But Jamal's knife was erratic.

-I never saw him.

I wonder. Oh, burning bright, I believe you, I believe you.

I believe in all fantastic things.

The magic wind that brought me to you, and the magic veil of dark in which I'll wrap you,

and take you magically to Deryabar.

You could hide me until nightfall and then...

I know of a passageway.

Hidden in the wall beyond. No, such a miracle would be too much for us.

A trifle for one who stole the rook's egg from its diamond nest, who put out the eye of the Cyclops.

-Please, you must go.

-Not alone.

How many secrets are in your bright eyes?

On the baggala, we'll know. Come.

Will you come, or must I hoist you on a magic rug?

-You must go before they find you.

-I see you require some hoisting.

Now you're just your ordinary self!

Not too ordinary to lay a trap for nor too stupid to steal the bait.

Oh, come. I can outbid your Emir.

Wasn't it gold you wanted in the first place?

Show me the way to the passage - quietly!

Pawn of slaves!

WOMEN SCREAM

-Who is he?

-A thief of the forbidden, master.

Thief...or assassin?

..Is your name by chance Jamal?

-I - Jamal?!

-Such an qatar winged through the dark at me one night.

An affectionate weapon. Like a dog, it returns faithfully to its master.

You violated sacred quarters.

Everyone knows the penalty for both men and faithless women. Which one attracted you?

-Would I offend the master's taste with miserly discrimination?

-Who are you protecting?

Pray, let me remember...

Was it the slim one or... moon face...?

So you refuse to share your funeral pyre?

Allah will judge in his own time. I am Allah's humble commander, his executioner.

-Let all learn humbleness by watching simple destruction.

-Maffi.

-Prince Ahmed.

-Yes, if it pleases Your Highness.

-I supposed you were receiving my invitation.

-Invitation?

-To enjoy my palace's pleasures.

-I sent a military escort for you.

-Oh, THAT escort.

Forgive me if my vagabond manners upset affairs of state.

The happiest man I ever heard of was little more than a vagabond. He loved ships and sailing.

A certain lady once spoke of the happiness he gave her.

The brighter the flame of happiness, the more brief its burning.

Beloved, paradise was at my shoulder. I didn't know.

You didn't know your own right hand, Maffi?

And you shall sit at my left.

-A good omen of our night of nights.

-Night of nights?

On such a night I am proud to be your satellite, planet of the East.

Is my friend marking the small glories of Daibour, so poor compared to Deryabar?

How often have I seen that baggala searching the world's ports seeking the son of the King of Deryabar?

-Now we've all found each other.

-And the treasure of friendliness.

Any treasure of my palace is yours.

Which one?

That one.

She's yours, Ahmed.

Ah, giving does give joy to the giver.

Sharing makes brothers of us all.

Truly so. How can I ever repay the memories of this visit?

Simple - I shall visit you. I'll accompany you to Deryabar.

-My voyaging would take you too far.

-Friendship has no horizons.

There stood I, in the marble hall of the infamous giant of Gomari.

Having examined me, and finding me so lean I was scarce worth devouring, he set a feast for me.

His retainers stood poised about me.

The feast was pleasant enough, and the monster's favourite ourie warmed me with languishing looks.

She had saved me from the sword.

Her very love for me swelled my confidence. Oh, what a love!

What a liar!

Precious one, our guest.

Verily, my predicament seemed helpless...

until I remembered magic taught to me by Aladdin.

What a man was Aladdin - the charlatan of Cathay!

And how magical is magic when its believers have slow wit?

Your indulgence, Highness.

A rose...

A rose for the rose of Baghdad.

But what of your escape from the flesh-eating giant?

I'm about to show you, O Mighty.

I shall attempt to make her disappear into the portals of my heart.

Watch closely, for you might be interested in my legerdemain which confounded the bloodthirsty one.

Now, this lamp is indeed not unlike the one used by Aladdin.

Aladdin claimed great powers were in his lamp... HIS lamp! Any lamp will do as well as his lamp.

The rubbing of the hand on the bronze, sheer fakery.

No, his secret was to blow upon the lamp thus...

Once...

Twice...

Thrice...

Stop, stop, enough of this magic!

..Where is he?

Where is she?!

You tortoise heads! I'll have you quartered!

-Where is she?!

-I thought I had him spitted on my qatar...

but I lost my qatar. Mine too. Your Highness, look!

A magician, but no crystal gazer. Double the guard at the gates and walls.

Help! Allah! Allah!

MUEZZIN CHANTS

We can thank Yusuf for teaching them their devotion.

Yusuf, may the Prophet bless you. Oh, I'm growing fond of this crew.

-­ Where to, Captain?

-Take the wind and go! Tend your sheets!

Thank Allah the monsoons are willing.

Yes, in the eighth month the winds are willing.

That's the inscription on this medallion.

..This IS the eighth month!

Look! The wind takes us toward that bright star.

And the star's on the medallion too.

Safely embarked?

-Your head is all band...

-Perhaps the thumping it received may stimulate its worthless content.

-Debauchery, I might have known.

-No, I was trying to serve my prince.

I took myself to the house of Hassan, the most famous of chartmakers,

hoping to find record of your ship's chart. It's said Jamal stole it.

-Well, SOMEONE stole it the night of the salvage.

-How well I know it.

-Just after you left the ship in Daibour, I saw it.

-You saw what?!

With my own eyes, into Hassan's, I saw enter a tall man,

face hooded by his headdress,

a qatar - the brother of the blade you wear - dangling from his cloak.

-You saw Jamal?!

-He remained a man without a face.

My own face, I must relate,

was thrust moon-like through the lattice, gazing at the chart.

Upon that chart, Jamal's qatar was tracing a line from Daibour to Deryabar.

You saw the chart! What did you see?!

The lattice did fit my neck too snug and held it there.

Blows of cudgels rained upon this aching promontory.

I wear a crown of great red lumps, dedicated to loyalty.

-You couldn't have remembered the chart.

-I looked. I'll set a course.

-No, I have a better open sesame to Deryabar.

-What is it?

-The sweetest sweetmeat of the Emir of Daibour.

-No!

-Where is she?

-In my cabin.

No! No, my prince!

You've ordained the death of our ship.

Don't lock that door!

I won't be caged! I should have put it through your heart.

Truly, you could.

But you wouldn't, would you?

-You wouldn't harm your prince.

-The Emir will attend to that.

Don't be confident of your future.

Gently! I brought you here merely to share a mountain of gold.

-W-What?

-A mountain of gold.

Well...!

You didn't have to wrap me like a mummy, did you?

I could have cried out when you took me, but I didn't. Did I?

No, you didn't. I've marked that in gratitude.

With the precision of Euclid, I shall bisect the isle of Deryabar.

One half shall be yours, merely for the simple answering of a question.

Where is Deryabar?

-Where is it?

-Not to a needle point, but broadly where?

-Don't you know?

If I did, would I be asking you?

-Where is Deryabar?!

-How could I know?

-From the Emir of Daibour.

Out with it!

How could he know? He hoped to learn from you.

He supposed your ship had the chart.

For years his pirate galleys have been plundering the Indies.

The greatest prize he failed to find.

It's why he sent me to bid for the baggala and why it was followed and why he spared you in Daibour.

-He supposed you knew the way to Deryabar.

-No!

And what are you? A monumental fraud!

Verily, verily.

I'm only a sailor named Sinbad.

Sinbad?!

There's no Sinbad but Sinbad the Sailor.

You, Sinbad?!

Oh, what wondrous tales I've heard of him.

Even in my Kurdish hills the travellers spoke of Sinbad.

Yes, long before I ever knew of Prince Ahmed, I knew all the stories of Sinbad the Sailor.

Island.

A mountain crowned with the star of the south.

That would be the island of Deryabar.

-Sinbad...

-Sinbad...

What if all his life he'd worn a chart about his neck?

What if this little bit of ancient gold were in itself enough,

were in itself a chart to Deryabar?

What if there never was a Deryabar? What if you meant it when you said you wanted nothing of treasure?

What if you were truly the shining spirit of the tales?

What if Allah had never let men say this is gold and that is treasure, we are poor and we must seek?

What if the things that make men's lives were not just beyond the rim of the sea?

-There'd have been more happy living.

-Allah never spoke such a law.

You and I aren't bound by the schemes of men.

-Fasten the chain.

-Put it away. It can be your death. Let any have Deryabar who can find Deryabar.

Put back the chain!

So you made no cry when I took you? What a game you play with your Emir.

-Me chasing moonbeams while he wears the key to Deryabar!

-I forgot...

-Really, my golden pigeon.

The way you draped yourself on his divan, you were crowding him.

I pitied his future...

yet his present I envied.

So I threw the dice. How much I won I'm not quite sure.

I wonder. If I put you on the scales, measured delicately against the price I paid for this ship,

would you go up or down?

Money groveller!

Let me go. Open that door.

It isn't locked.

It isn't?

You knew it.

Wait! Wait! Save the Greek fire.

I want live captives.

Steer for the fog!

-Faster on the oars.

-Faster on the oars! Faster on the oars!

-With a bow and arrow you hope to sink a war ship?

-No, master. Only to sink their steersman.

One little delay of the dromond and we'll be safe in the fog. Heaven make me a success.

-How did you do it?

-By aiming at everybody but the steersman.

Oars!

Steady as she goes.

No-one can always be a failure, Prince Ahmed. I saw the chart.

-I knew that female would bring us trouble. Will you listen to me now?

-What choice have I?

-I'll set course.

Watch the crew. Any man who signals the dromond is a fish's dinner.

-Or any woman.

-Let her be doubly watched.

Allah, bless our secret emissary.

Captain!

-So you brought them to us?

-Sinbad!

Galley snake.

They're a poor catch. No others worth keeping?

Only those chosen by His Highness.

You've pulled the oars before.

You won't escape the chains. We forge them strong on this vessel.

Throw him overboard!

I'm glad you disarmed the magician. He has a talent for the unexpected.

There's ample time to dissect all faces - the gardener and his rose.

-Where's the baggala's chart and his medallion?

-Does Maffi still expect his right hand to serve him?

-He's cut it off.

-A loss which will bring more pain to you than to the Emir of Daibour.

Unless I can prove that for you I let him take me from the palace.

Why do you suppose I took the risk? To open the heavens for a stranger or to find the isle for you?

-Perhaps you can produce the chart.

-The baggala had no chart. Ahmed knows nothing of the course.

-What?

-But they say you have a captive, a barber, who claims to know the way.

Ah, if you could only wear the true medallion of Alexander,

the King of Deryabar would reveal his hidden vaults to you, his charming long-lost son.

You prove nothing which hasn't occurred to me.

Don't I, Maffi?

Wear the medallion.

Your cleverness, your beauty, still serve me well.

-But your heart...

-Do I have a heart, Maffi?

Well...perhaps a little one.

The Prince Ahmed can be of no further consequence to us now. Put him ashore at the first landfall.

-Why not give him to the bottom of the sea?

-I despise him, Maffi, isn't that enough?

-I don't know.

I don't know.

Perhaps I'll find a method of knowing.

Until that moment...you are still the moon in the sky of Indus.

This moon would cost you more than you possess.

I'll have you jailed! Heel!

< Unclean dogs! Bullies!

< Aghhh!

Ahhh! Ohhhh! Ahhhhh!

Aghhh!

Your Highness, he swore he knew the way to Deryabar, but gives no course, lying to save himself from the oars.

Light of Daibour, I know the course, but can't see it from this position.

-Down with his heels.

-Oh!

I doubt if that clod knows anything.

Sufficient, my posturing peafowl, to addle your thick pate.

Maggot dreaming of power.

From a thousand tiny islands, all of a contour, can you select the exact isle?

Where is it? East, west, north, south?

As close as you think or as far as you suppose?

You'll never find Deryabar without the help of Prince Ahmed and myself.

Bring him to me.

-I invest you Grand Vizier of the Kingdom of Deryabar.

-Bestow honours lightly, Ahmed. You no longer exist.

To the palace of your father there shall come a new Prince Ahmed.

Shireen...

I felicitate His Highness on the devotion of his women.

I shall reward her in proportion to her devotion. You, dear martyr, can help me determine it.

Martyr? ..Let's not glorify me, Highness.

Have more admiration for yourself. Your passing shall have the quality of courage - painful and slow.

The woman of ambition shall be offered half of Deryabar, but she must sit in judgment of herself.

-Will her secret heart defeat her as she watches you being tortured?

-No! For a danek she'd sell me to Satan.

And you'd split your tongue trying to be the Prince of Deryabar.

Can you name the day that medallion was put upon me by my father?

Can you name the father's father of my father's father?

Can you recall the hundred ancestors of my mother?

-Have you a scar beneath your 13th rib?

-No...

-But you SHALL have one!

Don't move or the Light of Daibour goes out!

-The medallion.

-You let him remained armed!

-No weapon was seen upon him!

The medallion.

-Where did you get this qatar?

-From him, master.

Jamal?!

Jamal!

Yes. Jamal. Your partner, gentlemen, whether you wish it or not.

This deception is no longer necessary.

Yes, I poisoned the baggala's waterskins to take the chart.

Now there is no chart... except here.

-Beast of the world!

-Is your cloth so white, butcher of Daibour?

What does it matter? Never did three enemies need each other more.

You have a ship. I have knowledge.

But the finding of Deryabar is not the taking of a wise man's treasure.

Only to his son will the Aga speak of secret places.

Yea, I too was tempted to destroy everything that competed with me for the wealth of empires.

Prince Ahmed as well as yourself. In the Basra garden I struck at him,

and yet on a latter day, when my razor could have had his throat,

a higher wisdom stopped me.

There are many mysteries yet to be unfolded...

by me.

Wisely done, my cherished partner. Preserve him kindly.

Of course, while there is mutual need.

Of course.

Hassan, the chartmaker, and all the wise men of the East have given me much good counsel.

Beware the deadly currents. Do not anchor too close to that island.

-What island?

-What isle?

Deryabar.

(Deryabar.)

When the dromond pays a visit, it's a fine day for the coffin makers.

-What of your father?

-What of him?

Should I care for one who set me adrift? His gold and I love each other. Don't try to separate us.

Whoever called this dead land a kingdom?

The palace of Alexander!

The palace of Alexander. A fine tomb for father and son.

But first let it give up its secret.

Queen? Queen of THIS?

-Queen of vacant splendour.

-We're a thousand years too late.

< Welcome!

-Aga of Deryabar?

-So it appears.

Pharaoh of an empty nowhere.

Oh, king of legend, fabled monarch of the age,

planet of the southern sky, your son has come at last into the glory of your court.

My son?

Ahmed - your son. Does your memory fail?

Memory has been my life.

Memory and hope.

The true medallion.

It is my hope you ARE my son.

In time, we'll know...we'll know in what spirit you have come to me.

A good son, dear Aga. Often has he spoken his affection for you.

In your absence I've been a second father to him, a sharer of distress.

The baggala foundered. We were rescued by this great lord of the north.

Blessed be the winds that coursed you to Deryabar.

My house is yours. My house and all that it contains.

-Either my father is most generous or speaks the language of parables.

-You have much to learn of languages.

Then, dear Aga, why not instruct him in the alphas and omegas of golden secrets?

That he'll understand in any tongue.

-Very well. I shall tell all I know...

-Hold!

-Perhaps you would prefer sharing your secret only with your blood and kin...ALONE.

-And why?

They will not understand me,

nor will you, if I say that all treasure lies...

here.

Or here.

Or in the blue sea or in the green land.

Or in a pair of bright eyes.

A tender traveller, dear Aga, rescued from pirates by your son.

We thought to find refuge for her here.

A good refuge. I have found it so.

Marauders come ashore from time to time, but their ships die sleeping, lost in the currents.

And they, too, eventually die... fighting each other.

-My father is a prophet.

-It needs no oracle to say what men will do for gold.

I have known well, ever since the day I found in an ancient chest the chart and medallion of Alexander.

Oh, how the word of my discovery spread.

My son perhaps cannot remember how, his small hand in mine,

we fled the shadowy hands that would have seized him.

How well they knew no secret could I keep if my son's life fell into their hands.

Well, death was no stranger to me. I killed to save my son.

I wonder - would your son do as much for you?

I believe he would.

In those days I led him by the hand. Now his strong hand shall lead me.

Long, long ago, and for his own salvation,

I hid him with my friends of the trading ships while I followed the chart's course to Deryabar

-and lost my ship in that graveyard cove.

-What did you find here?

-Love for lost happiness.

Happiness that was so good, so free, so simple, I didn't know I had it.

And I found hate for the legend of wealth, that monstrous sword that would not let me walk in the world.

Yet I found also its secret to be my best defence.

Without me, there is no secret.

A noble attitude, but the language of evasion.

There is gold here... Gold!

Only gold could have built a baggala.

Oh, my inquisitive elephant.

Did you suppose I built that floating vanity?

Of all the vultures that descended on Deryabar, she was the crowning imposture.

Her master claimed to be my son. My shipwrecked crew seized the baggala and set out to find the true Ahmed.

-Are you sure you won't regret your quest?

-Why do you ask?

-Because...

-Because as his father you will tell him your secret and the moment you...

-Silence!

-Yes. Silence!

And you value my son more than what you might take from Deryabar?

Yes. Oh, yes!

I tried to tell him. I took the medallion to keep him from here.

-She knows not what she speaks.

-I...

-..Your existence is on trial!

-Yes.

Ahmed, how little you understand of treasure.

Think carefully. You're condemning yourself.

-And for what?! For him who wouldn't let a dinar fall for the sake of his father.

-What was it you said?

No secret could you keep if your son fell into the shadowy hands...

-Behold the hand of Daibour.

-Tell us the place of gold, miser, if you cherish your son.

Yes... Yes, of course I'll tell you.

-Speak, then!

-It is...

-Hold, Aga! Speak not for me.

I am not your son.

-What?

-The medallion.

I bought it in a bazaar no longer than a year ago. I'm the biggest fraud in the Islamic world.

I'm Sinbad the Sailor!

Sinbad...

Oh, you ARE Sinbad.

-Oh, yes, burning bright. You've undermined my good, strong, worthless character.

-A happy martyr.

Martyr again. Oh-ho, and who shall be the martyrs this time? Jamal, Maffi of Daibour or Sinbad?

Not three, but one, was destined to survive.

You stand condemned, both of you.

-What power do you imagine you have?

-Magic. ..Remember, Maffi?

Yes, magic. Magic to pull a serpent's poisoned fang.

Wait!

-Look you, Maffi, the poison he intended for you.

-What?!

Hear me, Highness, there's a certain magic in memories.

Did he not tell us he poisoned the water of the baggala?

-Your ship's water would have become deadened.

-What is in here?

-Nothing harmful.

-The proof is in the testing.

-Absurd. An essence of flowers of Samarkand.

Flowers of Samarkand.

Then drink and dream of jasmine and hyacinth. Or do you prefer some nightmares on the rack?

A rather happy blending of the vintage.

Harmless, tasty... >

When I was a somewhat deplorable seller of wines

I could have made a handsome thing of this.

I've always been a disappointment, to others as well as myself.

When I was chief taster to the Khan of Bohara,

he expired from a cup...which had only made me...riotously giddy.

Magician(!) Faker of the age. Do you imagine we cannot open the Aga's mouth without you?

-A prize for the men of my ship!

-Maffi!

-Take her from my sight.

Let her go, when it pleases you, to the richest bidder in Daibour's Street of the Lepers.

You'd sell your own pet, Maffi?!

Fools! Do you suppose you can keep them apart, the two who found the truth of treasure?

No, no. The truth shall sweep you asunder.

You've earned the fate of all who've touched what you call the wealth of Deryabar.

Take it! Seal your destinies. Press your hand upon the lotus petal

and you'll see your treasure overflowing from the vaults below.

Go!

Oh...

Ah!

Go, find her, my son.

-Your son?

-My good son.

Go.

Master, he vanished before my very eyes!

Your magician has escaped, Maffi?

My plan is not affected, Jamal, the plan I had from the beginning -

to give both my partners a bright, departing glory.

Nothing living shall remain on this island!

-Bodum, when the boats are lowered, prepare the fire of the Greeks.

-Sir.

I'll need argosies from Daibour to bring the gold!

Beneath the stones of Deryabar they'll find it.

Hurry! We must catch the tide.

Ah, it was a brave life.

I shouldn't feel too secure if I were you, not while that Sinbad skims the shadows.

Yes...I did intend to poison your dromond's water.

So, true it was that only one out of three could survive.

But in no way could you hurt me greatly.

With nothing more to seek, possessions could become quite dreary.

The quest of a lifetime...I won it.

The wealth of the Earth...I found it.

No...I was not a failure.

He's dead!

ECHOES: He's dead! He's dead! Dead!

Dead!

Dead...

Our prize!

His Highness grows generous. Take her below.

Sinbad!

What?

Sinbad! Sinbad!

Sinbad!

-The dromond's lantern signalled danger. The flame went out.

-Danger? The oil burns low.

I've often thought a loose chain, a broken lock... Galley slaves feel no endearment.

Who craves for the friendship of oxen? With these professionals I could take any vessel.

Now I can soon take anything - the caliphate, kingdoms of the Hindi, China, the power of the world.

What is there left to stand between us?

Well, the Emir found his dream.

Soon he'll come aboard and we'll cover the island with the fire of the Greeks.

Praise be to the Prophet, his palm stops itching. At last a night of rest.

Sinbad! Sinbad!

Sinbad!

Sinbad!

Do you suppose he is on the dromond?

Impossible. He was quite a foolish little mortal after all.

I'll burn him with all that still exists on Deryabar. How did he say it? "One quick, blinding blow."

-They're firing at us!

-Then put some distance between us. ..About! Back with the oars!

Loyalty! Loyalty! I couldn't even buy it!

Cowardly filth! Oh, get out!

You'll face Allah when you're dead!

Mark it with care, Muallin, you're measuring your own future.

I'm only a mercenary, but you'll find me a good one.

Break!

Ahhhhh!

-Believers, doubters, brothers of Basra, know ye the truth by the fruits that ye see.

-Good Sinbad.

-Never again will I call him Torturer of the Truth.

-Such sudden love! Take all you will.

Bah, you melon-heads! Why do you think I told you this tale?

From all the others you learn nothing! I'd hoped to teach you the worthlessness of what men fight for.

-Worthless?

-Worthless as these grains of sand.

Worthless?

-Thank Allah I'm sailing home to Deryabar.

-Sinbad, my friend! Sinbad! Where is Deryabar?

It's here...and here...

..and here.

Subtitles by BBC Scotland Subtitling, 1999