Who is that down there in the hall, Sister?
Why, that's Domini Enfilden.
- Was she ever here?
- Yes, she was just like you.
She couldn't ever
do her sums correctly, either.
Mother.
Why, Domini Enfilden!
How wonderful to see you again.
And you, Mother Josephine.
It's like coming home.
She doesn't look very happy.
- Is she married?
- No, she isn't married.
- Is that why she isn't happy?
- No, my dear.
You see, she devoted her life
to looking after her invalid father...
whom she loved very dearly.
But why would that make her sad, Sister?
He suffered greatly for years.
She gave up everything for him.
And a few months ago he died, mercifully.
Isn't she beautiful?
- Is she rich?
- Yes, and very kind.
You don't catch me being kind to anyone.
I want somebody to be kind to me.
Now, that's enough.
Come right away from that window.
Close the window, children.
You remember, Domini,
this is your old room.
Your old room, Domini.
I'm so delighted to see you again,
I didn't notice.
You're not happy, my child.
Perhaps the only time I ever was happy
was here.
But surely after your father's death
you were free to enjoy the world?
The world? Yes, I traveled:
Paris, Vienna, the Riviera.
But in the midst of people,
I was always lonely. Desperately lonely.
I don't understand that.
You always had such a longing for life,
even as a child.
Do you remember, you once asked me:
"Mother, is it wrong
to want someone to marry me?
"Is it wrong to want to be loved?"
Yes, I remember.
And you showed me a picture.
The Marriage at Cana.
I remember you said,
"He was at the wedding, and he blessed it."
Yes, Domini.
What am I to do, Mother Josephine?
I come to you
as I did when I was a little girl.
Do? Life is filled
with interesting things to do.
You must go out and find them.
But how, Mother. Where?
Why not leave
the cities you have found so lonely...
and try something different?
Perhaps the desert, for a time.
The desert, Mother? What will I find there?
There, in the solitudes,
you may find yourself.
In the face of the infinite,
your grief will vanish...
and you will realize that life is larger...
fuller than you dream.
I've been here for one whole month, Father.
Forgive me, I still cannot understand
how men can find peace here...
walled in, cut off forever from the world.
You are a soldier of France, my son.
We are soldiers of God.
One must have the call for either duty.
Today I go away, Father,
to rejoin my company.
You have never asked me why I came here.
You asked for shelter here.
We've tried to make you comfortable.
You have, Father.
But I don't want you to think
I came here out of idle curiosity.
You see, my mother had always wanted me
to enter the service of the church.
Last year, she died
while I was on patrol deep in the desert.
It seemed fitting, somehow,
I should come here...
-if only for a little while.
- I understand, my son.
You must take this with you as a small token
of our pleasure in your visit here.
- For me?
- Yes.
A bottle of the liqueur we make
at this monastery. We are very proud of it.
You have reason to be.
I have tasted it. It is superb.
I'll call Brother Antoine.
The making of the liqueur is in his charge.
Your praise will make him happy.
Brother Gregory,
call Brother Antoine from his work.
I always feel a little strange talking to you,
while these men must keep silent.
They have chosen their silence,
Monsieur de Trevignac.
They are happy in it.
Speak. What is it?
I release you from your vow of silence.
Brother Antoine has fled.
He has gone out into the world.
He has broken his vows.
Do not condemn him. Pity him.
Whatever has caused him
to take this awful step...
only agony and remorse can follow it.
Let us never forget
that for those who are weary...
for those who have lost the way...
there alone is peace.
Madame is going to the Sahara?
The desert is the garden of oblivion.
In the desert one forgets everything...
even the heart one loves,
and the desire of one's own soul.
- You're a poet.
- How quickly madame understands me.
Yes, madame, sometimes I am dizzy
with the beauty of my own thoughts.
Perhaps the sun
has something to do with it.
This sun is nothing.
Wait till you get beyond the mountains...
and through the gates of the Sahara.
There the sun blazes.
Let it blaze.
May I be of service, madame?
- Are those madame's bags?
- Yes.
- I'll help you with them.
- I thought you were a poet.
Madame, I'm not only a poet.
I'm also a guide.
- Porter.
- Never mind, madame. I'm also a porter.
My name is Batouch.
Yes, madame.
It will be an inspiration to serve madame.
Madame is like the new young moon
coming up over the mimosas.
Madame is like a lovely lotus
that blooms in--
My bags, Batouch.
Madame's bags are very chic. Hadj!
Madame, this is my cousin, Hadj.
He can't speak English.
He hasn't been to Europe
as I have, madame.
He doesn't know north from south,
he gets lost in broad daylight.
And furthermore, madame, he's a swine.
This is not mine.
What an extraordinary man. Is he mad?
Yes. He's undoubtedly English.
- Madame, welcome to Beni Mora.
- Thank you, Father.
And greetings from Mother Josephine.
She said I should write her
exactly how you are.
She demanded that I do the same thing
about you.
My companion, Bous-Bous.
He, too, has his faith.
But, alas, it's only in me.
- I'm sure his trust is not misplaced, Father.
- Thank you, child.
My church is small, but it's always open.
And you wouldn't exchange it
for a great cathedral, would you?
I'm afraid I wouldn't.
Now you need rest after your journey.
Your hotel is yonder.
Batouch, take good care of madame.
That song, what does it say?
It is the song of the freed slaves, madame:
"No one but God and I
knows what is in my heart."
No one but God and I...
knows what is in my heart.
What is he afraid of?
Irena, the dancing girl.
The most terrible girl in all of the Sahara.
- She wants to kill Hadj.
- Why?
She loves him.
This way, madame.
I didn't know that Hadj could laugh.
Whatever did you say to him?
I told him Irena was not dancing tonight.
- But you told me she was.
- And so she is.
She wants money, madame.
Why doesn't he give it to her?
- He doesn't understand. Go and tell him.
- Yes, madame.
Thank you for helping me.
- Good night.
- Good night.
I can look after myself now.
- I'll go with you, madame.
- I'm not afraid.
I'll go with you.
But if I prefer to be alone?
Then I'll follow you, madame.
Come with me, then.
She loves him, so she tried to kill him.
It doesn't seem reasonable, does it?
I know nothing of such things.
Women are hard to fathom.
Some men, also.
Salaam, madame.
The life of madame is in the sand.
I see. I see it clearly.
I know the past.
I read the future. The future of madame.
The life of monsieur, I begin to see.
Shall we hear what he has to say?
No!
Thank you.
I'm Domini Enfilden.
My name is Boris. Boris Androvsky.
You're Russian?
My mother was French, my father a Russian.
That is my name.
- Perhaps we'll meet again.
- I hope so.
I'm riding tomorrow
to the oasis of Sidi-Zerzour.
- Good night.
- Good night.
I hope I'm not intruding...
but I didn't know whether you meant me
to ride with you or not.
I practically asked you to.
I didn't understand that. I couldn't believe it.
You see, I've lived so long
out of the world...
I don't know the right things to do.
These things aren't important, anyway.
They really aren't.
You're very kind, madame. Thank you.
Madame, monsieur.
Count Anteoni. My great friend.
Count Anteoni, you are welcome
as raindrops pattering upon a parched city.
The flowers droop in your absence. The--
The flowers may droop, Batouch,
but never you.
Madame Enfilden, this is Count Anteoni.
Count Anteoni, this is Monsieur Androvsky.
Greetings, madame, monsieur.
I hope I haven't disturbed you...
but in this sun, one heads towards an oasis
as towards heaven.
- Won't you join us for coffee?
- Thank you, madame.
- In the desert, a fellow traveler is a friend.
- That's charming and very true.
- Batouch tells me you live here.
- Yes, madame, I've adopted the Sahara.
Or perhaps I should say
the Sahara has adopted me.
Someday I must make a pilgrimage
into the desert, as you do.
Let me advise you, madame, wait.
Wait until the call is so strong
that it can't be ignored.
It's you, madame.
They're very curious about
a European woman. They seldom see one.
I am curious about them.
Give.
You want it? Here, take it. It's yours.
If you will excuse me,
I'll see about the horses.
Curious man, Monsieur Androvsky.
- Who is he?
- Just a fellow traveler.
And a friend?
I don't quite know.
A man who fears to acknowledge his God...
is unwise to set foot in the desert.
The Arabs have a saying, madame:
The desert is the garden of Allah.
Isn't it lovely?
Don't let him frighten you.
Tell me about him. I've seen him before.
He's a desert man.
You'd think such beings were bred
by the marriage of sand grains.
The sand tells them secrets.
Have you ever had him
read the sand for you?
Once, a long time ago.
And were the things he saw there true?
He saw nothing for the years that were past.
- And for the years that were still to come?
- It might have been chance...
but, yes, he did see what was still to come.
Would you care to hear him?
Caravan, camels.
Waiting by a church.
The caravan moves out into the desert.
It is day, but not like other days.
The wind is rising.
It drowns out the music of the church.
The desert is angry.
There is a palanquin...
such as the great sheiks use
to carry their women.
- Am I to be carried off?
- I don't know.
But there are two people,
and one of them is you.
Where does the caravan go? Can he tell?
It's on the road to Bambara.
The route I planned for my pilgrimage.
A tent...
far in the desert...
close by a ruined tower.
What's he saying?
He says there is something glorious
in store for you.
It's as if all the trees of the desert
bear fruit...
and the sand is covered
with millions of golden flowers.
Is it joy? It must be joy.
Yes, great joy.
- What is it?
- It's a warning.
I don't care.
If this great joy comes to me,
I don't care what comes after.
Please let us go.
You see? It's not a mirage, it's real.
- Real palms, real water.
- Real sun, real sky.
Real Domini, real Boris.
- I don't believe it.
- What is it? Is something wrong?
You laughed. I didn't think you knew how.
I don't.
Why, Boris?
Why do you behave so strangely?
You're troubled, deeply. What is it?
Can't you tell me? Won't you trust me?
I'm sorry if I've intruded.
I thought all these weeks we've been
seeing each other had given me the right.
- Please forgive me.
- Please don't be impatient with me, Domini.
Your friendship is all I have.
I've tried to imagine
what I would do without you...
alone here.
I couldn't face it.
Then I thought of our days together,
the days at Sidi-Zerzour.
The time we rode to the tomb on the desert.
Our walk on the dunes that night,
under the stars.
Something's happened to me.
I can breathe again.
I can feel sun and wind again.
For the first time,
I can bear to live in the world.
You've done that for me, Domini.
Thank you, Boris. I'm glad.
- But--
- Please, Domini, don't question me.
There are things in a man's life
it's best to forget.
There are dark places
which should be left dark.
I don't want to remind you of that, Boris.
I won't again.
I've seen you happy.
You must think only of that. That happiness.
And of you, Domini, of you.
I thank God...
What is it, Boris?
Nothing.
It's getting late.
We'd better be starting back.
My dog has taken a fancy to you, I see.
I'm sorry, I didn't know it was your dog...
-or I shouldn't have interfered. Forgive me.
- My son.
Why do you run away?
Why do you say that?
The church is always open to you.
What is the church to me?
I have no use for it. I'm sorry.
- You sent for me, Father?
- Yes. Sit down.
It's about your fellow traveler.
What's the matter with that man?
What's the matter?
I don't know, Father.
There's fear in this man, Domini.
Why do you say that, Father?
Give me your reason.
My reason is my instinct.
I pity him. I shall pray for him.
He needs prayers.
I can't say I think he's evil, but...
- I know he isn't evil.
- You know? How?
My instinct.
I think perhaps he has lost his faith.
That's what's wrong with him, Father.
But I think he can be helped to regain it.
I shall do what I can for him.
Domini, Mother Josephine put you
in my care.
My first duty is to protect you.
And I warn you most solemnly
not to make friends with this man.
Forgive me
if I disregard your warning, Father...
but I feel that everything that has happened
to me here has been arranged beforehand.
And I feel that, too, about the future.
The fatalism of the East!
It's the guiding spirit of this land.
And you, too, are going to be led by it.
Take care.
You've come to a land of fire...
and I think you are made of fire.
Batouch, did you find Monsieur Androvsky?
Yes, madame. He is leaving Beni Mora.
- Leaving?
- Yes, madame. Tonight, he said.
That will be all, Batouch.
Yes, madame.
- I came to say goodbye.
- But why, Boris? Why?
You know why, Domini, don't you?
With you, I am at ease and happy.
But with the people you like...
No, I've made up my mind. I'm going away.
Then I shall be alone.
That journey into the desert
you've spoken of, you will take it alone?
What else can I do?
I shall never know the desert.
I've wanted to go.
- You've made me want to go.
- I?
Yes. Once you said to me...
that peace and happiness
might be found there.
You gave me hope. And now...
Now we have to say goodbye.
Goodbye.
Domini, forgive me, I have no right...
but I can't go until I say it.
I love you.
Don't go, Boris. Don't ever go.
I love you.
Repeat after me.
I, Boris Androvsky...
take thee, Domini Enfilden...
for my lawful wife.
From this day forward, to have and to hold...
for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer...
in sickness and in health...
until death do us part.
Repeat after me.
I, Domini Enfilden...
take thee, Boris Androvsky...
for my lawful husband.
From this day forward, to have and to hold...
for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer...
in sickness and in health...
until death do us part.
- Thank you.
- And you, monsieur...
I hope this day will bring you
the happiness we are all searching for.
Thank you.
The Sand Diviner was right.
My whole life seems to begin today.
Listen, Boris.
"No one but God and I
knows what is in my heart."
That is no longer true.
Now you also know what is in my heart,
don't you?
Yes, Domini.
I feel as if I were watched over...
and protected by the desert.
No. By me.
Think only of me tonight, only of me.
Forget everything
that has gone before in your life...
and mine.
The sand is so warm.
So alive.
It is warm for us, Domini.
Alive for us.
Put my love to the proof,
the uttermost proof...
so we may know
that nothing can destroy our love, nothing.
If only I could teach you English.
It's the only language low enough
to describe you.
I want to go home.
I hate the desert.
I want go home.
I hate desert.
Allah be praised! At last. Madame.
Yes, Batouch.
Every day we go further and further
into the desolation.
But please don't think that I complain.
It's Hadj here, and all the others.
They're all complaining.
They all want to go back.
Ask him for yourself.
So great is his yearning, he's even
learned English that he may tell you.
I want desert. I hate home.
Go give your brother some hay.
He is crying.
You'd better give him
another English lesson.
Yes, madame.
Accursed is the man with relatives.
Do you have them in Europe, too?
- We'll discuss that another time.
- Yes, madame.
Isn't it time for monsieur
to be back from his hunting?
He'll return in good time, madame.
Do not be worried for his safety, please.
If monsieur is not back by nightfall,
light a torch...
-and I'll wait for him at the tower.
- Yes, madame.
Come here.
Is it possible? There's a light.
Who are you?
Madame, it seems impossible that anyone...
Pardon, you must think us crazy.
We are a lost patrol, madame.
Lost in the desert for three days.
Madame, forgive me.
My men are hungry and exhausted.
Have you water for us? A bite to eat?
You'll find water in the first tent, and
everything in the camp behind the dunes.
Get them at once.
Madame, will you permit me?
- My name is De Trevignac.
- I am Madame Androvsky.
Russian? Vive la Russie!
No, that's my husband's name.
- Permit me, madame.
- Certainly.
There's my husband.
- Will you excuse me if I go and meet him?
- Certainly, madame.
We'll be very happy if you join us for dinner.
With pleasure, madame.
Of course, I realize that all this is happening
but I can't quite believe it.
And so short a time ago,
we hadn't even water to drink.
And now you shall have champagne.
We'll be waiting for you.
Champagne.
You see, madame, that's the difference
between Hadj and myself.
He'd never have thought of bringing along
all these lovely things:
the tablecloth, these chairs, the silverware.
But Batouch thought
you might have guests, and here you are.
In Beni Mora, people say,
"Batouch is the perfect housewife."
Good evening.
My husband. Monsieur De Trevignac.
- Monsieur Androvsky.
- How do you do?
Is it possible we've met before?
No, I would remember, I think.
Please, do sit down.
Serve the coffee, Batouch. What is that?
- My surprise for the evening, madame.
- A liqueur?
If you've never tasted it,
you've never tasted liqueur.
It is nectar, ambrosia.
It warms the heart like singing violins.
Even your poetry
sounds beautiful tonight, Batouch.
You know, it's a strange thing...
but I cannot get over the feeling
that I have seen you somewhere before.
I don't think that is possible, monsieur.
We are all friends in the desert.
Thank you for your song.
Good night, madame.
Sergeant, we march at dawn.
We march at dawn.
Boris, what is it? What has happened?
Why did Monsieur De Trevignac
leave so suddenly?
You didn't let him see
you wanted him to go?
After his escape from death?
That would have been inhuman.
Perhaps my love for you
might even make me that, Domini.
And if it did, if you knew why it did,
would you hate me for it?
Could you?
Could you hate me for anything, Domini?
I could never hate you now.
Not if I had done you a wrong?
Could you ever do me a wrong?
I could as easily believe that God could.
I've given my life to you.
What more can I give
to make you tell me what troubles you?
Nothing. You've given everything.
Then why don't you share
your sorrow with me?
The dark places you spoke of,
they cannot remain dark forever.
- No, I'll keep your love, I'll keep it.
- You can never lose it.
But my happiness, our happiness...
that is what can never be complete
until you give me your truth.
Monsieur!
Goodbye, madame.
Monsieur De Trevignac, what happened?
Please tell me.
There is the Tower of Mogar,
Your Excellency.
But I don't see the encampment.
The young officer said
we should find them near that tower.
Count Anteoni.
For the first time in my unworthy life
I am speechless.
Where is madame?
How glad I am to see you.
I hope your finding us here isn't accidental.
No, I intended to find you.
I was on my way to Amara.
I met a young officer.
- Monsieur De Trevignac?
- Yes.
Do sit down.
Thank you. How well you look.
You know, this spot...
is exactly as the Sand Diviner described it.
Everything the Sand Diviner said
has come true.
Are you happy, then?
How could I fail to be?
I thought I detected a very small shadow
across your face.
It must be the light.
I've been in the sun so long today.
- Count Anteoni, it is a pleasure to see you.
- Thank you.
- You'll stay the night with us, of course.
- If I may.
Of course.
- Some liqueur? What would you like?
- Thank you. Benedictine, please.
There's one liqueur I'm very fond of.
I haven't seen it for years.
It's called Lagarnine.
I believe we have some in the camp.
No, Domini. We did have a bottle,
but there is none left.
- Really, it doesn't matter.
- But I'm sure there's another bottle.
Yes, madame, I'll get it right away.
Extraordinary story, the story of Lagarnine.
- Have you heard it?
- No.
News travels so swiftly in the desert...
that I thought perhaps
it might have come even to Mogar.
Voil, madame. Lagarnine.
- Monsieur.
- Thank you.
This liqueur is made at El-Lagarni.
Have you ever tasted it?
I don't believe so.
You, monsieur?
- No.
- It's really unusual.
The Trappist monastery
has every reason to be proud of it.
Is it made by the monks?
Yes, it's the only product
of the vineyards at El-Lagarni.
Let us enjoy it while we may...
because when all they have now in stock
at the monastery is exhausted...
- You, monsieur?
- No, thank you.
- There will never be any more.
- But why not?
The secret of its manufacture
belonged to one monk only.
At his death, he was to confide it to another
whom he had chosen.
- And he died suddenly without--
- No, he didn't die.
Then I don't understand.
He disappeared from the monastery.
- He left the monastery? A Trappist monk?
- Yes.
- After taking the final vows?
- Yes.
How horrible.
- How could a man do such a thing?
- Why not?
But, Boris, a man who had taken vows...
who had made the most sacred
of marriages, a marriage to the Church.
I'm not a religious man myself,
Monsieur Androvsky.
But this man has gone out into the world.
What can he possibly expect
to find there for him?
He can find happiness. He can find joy.
Not for long, monsieur.
Believe me, not for long.
There must be anguish in this man.
There must be despair in him,
such as few men have known.
No. Why should he be in despair? Why?
Why?
Because he knows inside himself
he has no right to the delights of the world.
Why shouldn't he have?
How can you judge?
He has the right to live as other men live.
The right to love. To love, I tell you!
De Trevignac thought he recognized him.
He told me the story.
I had to find out if it were true.
The truth is bitter, Domini.
If it were any other woman,
I might have remained silent.
But I know how strong your faith is,
how much it means in your life.
I knew you would prefer the truth.
Yes.
I prefer to know...
the truth.
Goodbye, Domini.
Goodbye.
Why did you do it, Boris?
How can I explain? How can I?
Were the vows too hard to keep?
No, Domini.
For years, I kept them. Gladly. Proudly.
Even as a boy, I was so devout...
that it seemed to me and all my family
that I should give up the world.
I was still very young
when I went into the monastery, and I...
When it came time to take the eternal vows,
I did not hesitate.
It never occurred to me to go out again
into the world, as many novices did.
I was at peace there. I was happy.
Happy. Boris?
It was a lonely sort of happiness, yes.
But it was happiness.
I worked in the fields and gardens.
I lived in the sun and rain.
I worked close to the earth, day after day.
And at night,
there was the long, plain chapel...
where I prayed...
where God seemed very near.
I was happy.
What could have happened
to take all that away from you?
When the old abb died...
the new abb put me in charge
of the little hotellerie...
where visitors are received.
He released me from the vow of silence.
For the first time in years...
I saw and talked with people from the world.
For the first time since I was a child,
I listened to the voices...
of women.
One day a man came to the monastery.
His face was full of bitterness and despair.
He told me of the woman
who was the cause of his agony.
Day after day, he poured out the story to me.
The story of her beauty, of his love for her.
I was horrified.
To me, it seemed unclean.
But I listened, Domini,
thinking I might be able to help him.
Then one day,
the woman came to the monastery...
seeking him out.
I saw them rush into each other's arms.
Their faces...
were the faces of angels.
At night, alone in my cell,
I began to think of what I had seen.
I was confused and troubled.
I began to realize
how much I had denied myself forever.
I'd look out over the monastery walls
toward the lights of the city and think:
"They are living there,
those people. Living!"
I fled from the monastery.
But I never lived, Domini.
I was tortured by the thought
of what I had done.
Then I met you.
Why was I given this love for you?
This crying out for the flesh,
the heart of you?
- Why did I have to do this to you, Domini?
- I don't know, Boris.
When I stood with you
at the church that day...
I felt as if I was being born again.
- And now--
- Domini, I tried to tell you.
I tried to give you up. I couldn't.
What are we going to do? What?
I don't know.
But this I do know:
No one is bad who loves.
God will not punish us...
if you...
if we...
can trust him to show us the way.
You needn't tell me.
It's in your face.
I must make reparation for what I have done.
Domini, you know what I have to do,
don't you?
Yes.
How far is it to the monastery?
A few hours.
A few hours.
A lifetime.
Madame is leaving,
but madame will return one day.
The desert calls
and its voice is always heard.
The desert is the land of forgetfulness,
the land of...
Forgive me, madame.
Batouch has no poetry today.
- Goodbye, my child.
- Goodbye.
- My son.
- Goodbye, Father.
- Goodbye, Batouch.
- Goodbye, monsieur.
Yes, monsieur?
Can you arrange for a carriage
to El-Lagarni?
The Trappist monastery?
Certainly, monsieur.
Pierre.
Would you care to wait in the private parlor?
Please don't touch me.
I'm trying so hard to be strong.
Please don't make it any harder.
How can I bear to give you up?
We are believers, Boris.
We know this isn't all.
It can't be.
Surely in that other world,
the real and lasting world...
we'll be together forever.
But in this world?
The happiness you found
in the monastery...
you will find it again.
- Perhaps if you try not to think of me...
- No.
Domini, no!
I will think of you always,
until the end of my life.
I was born, perhaps, to serve God...
but I dare to believe that I was born, too...
that I might know your beauty,
your tenderness.
Since I have been able to pray again...
I have begged God in his mercy
to forgive me for having loved you.
For in knowing your love, I have known him.
The carriage, madame and monsieur.
When we return from the monastery...
perhaps madame and monsieur
would like to see the casinos.
No? Perhaps tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
You will be with me always.
Drive back to Tunis.
Drive back!