Original subtitles

Long ago, in the ancient kingdom of Asia Minor, there lived a sultan whose name

was Shaka Khan, and who claimed to be a direct descendant of the great Genghis

Khan.

It was only a claim, but then being sultan gave him the right to lay claim

whatever he wished.

His word was law.

It was good to be the sultan.

Among the sultan's greatest treasures was the most charming and beautiful

in all of Asia Minor.

And among them was a jewel.

Her name was Scheherazade, and she lived by her wits as well as her beauty.

As our story begins, the Sultan was already married and at war.

I am ready, my lord Sultan.

What I must know from the stars is this.

Should I leave my men out in search of the enemy or wait for him to attack?

The Sultan loved his wife and trusted her completely.

Unfortunately, the Sultana did not return the favor.

Don't tease. Give it back.

Tell me.

The Sultan's ugly.

You're handsome.

What else?

The Sultan's like a pin.

And mine?

A monster. Please.

Just put the head in.

Do that and I promise you'll soon be Sultan.

Please. And where is the Sultan now?

With his advisors.

Please don't tease Sargon.

Make love to me.

Does my lady the sultana command it? Yes.

Then I obey.

I

see

that the sun enters Gemini 12 days hence.

Is that good?

That is good, my lord.

A full moon occurs...

In mid -heavens, but two days later.

Is that also good?

No, my lord, that is bad.

But Mars is close to Saturn in Capricorn.

And that, my lord, is good.

The time is right for battle.

I did not ask if the time was right.

I asked if I should...

March out against the enemy or wait for him to attack.

The stars give signs of victory.

However, there is something that worries me.

Yes?

The planets.

Especially Jupiter and Venus.

What does that mean?

Because of the position...

Of Jupiter to Venus, the planet Mars is in decline.

That is bad.

No, my Lord Sultan, that is good.

But then, Jupiter moves into Libra.

Which is bad.

No. Which is good.

No.

Then what?

Well, I don't really know, my Lord.

I cannot read the stars further than that.

Thank you, Chief Astrologer.

You've been a big help.

Where is General Sargon?

I must speak with someone who is sane.

The General is at camp with his troops, Your Majesty.

I'll leave at once.

No, no.

I'll go myself.

I need some fresh air. Tell the Sultana I'm gone.

As soon as she returns, Your Majesty.

The Sultana rose early and is out for a ride.

Meanwhile, the Sultan was galloping towards Sargon's camp.

Do you like surprises?

Yes.

Tell me.

You're sure?

Yes, what is it?

I'll show you.

He's a gift.

Is he bigger than you?

Bigger?

Look. See for yourself.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

um um

As the Sultan approached General Sagan's tent, he stopped, and for a moment he

thought he heard the voice of the Sultana.

It was impossible.

Then he heard it again, and in a timbre that was particular to her only on

certain occasions.

The Sultan's heart sank.

Stealthfully, he crept up and with his dagger, he made a slit in the tent.

Gathering his courage, he looked inside.

It was worse than he imagined.

His most trusted ally and his beloved sultana were uniting against him and

plotting his overthrow.

uh uh

Why? Why?

Why?

Thank you.

The Sultan watched and listened.

In this way, he learned their plans, and being ready, defeated them.

The Sultan celebrated his victory with less than full joy.

So long did he brood over the betrayal by his wife, that he eventually became

persuaded that no woman was to be trusted.

He resolved that each night he would choose a girl from his harem, and after

passing one night with her, she would be strangled in the morning.

This, he believed, would be a sure cure against any future disloyalty.

Every night, before supper, the harem keeper would approach with a basket

with tiles.

A girl's name was inscribed on each tile, and once picked, a fate was

Tonight would be her last night on earth.

Who is your choice for tonight, my Lord Sultan?

Scheherazade, you have been chosen.

Scheherazade knew what was to come and promised herself that with her it would

be different.

As she was being prepared, she devised her plan and resolved not to be dead in

the morning.

Her plan depended on arousing the Sultan's curiosity.

Scheherazade!

How old are you, my child?

Nineteen, my lord.

It's a pity.

How did you come to my harem?

I was a gift, Great Sultan.

An Assyrian gave me to you in order to ensure safe passage for his caravans.

The Assyrian was a fool.

You're worth much more than that.

Thank you, my lord master.

It's custom that you entertain.

Do you have talent?

Some say I do.

Do you dance?

No, my lord master.

Do you sing?

No, my lord. I can neither sing nor dance.

Then what?

I tell stories.

It is my only talent.

I've collected them in my travels.

With your permission, it would give me great pleasure to tell you one.

I would be consoled on this final night.

Ah.

Then tell.

In her effort to stay alive, Scheherazade began her first story, the

concerned a poor and hapless fisherman who lived in the province of Thrace,

the Aegean Sea.

It was also the fisherman's misfortune to have a wife who was a hag and as fat

as an elephant and as ugly as a vulture.

Not only that, but she was vicious and jealous, and the only peace she would

allow him was when he went fishing.

Each day on the way to the sea, he would pass the house of a noble woman, and

without being seen, He found that he could look into her window.

This was the only joy in the fisherman's life, and it seemed enough just to

catch a glimpse of her.

Then there was one day when fate took a hand.

As the fisherman watched, he became as excited as the woman, and all day while

he fished, he thought about what he had seen.

He believed it was a good omen, but when he drew in his nets, he found that he

had caught nothing except a small jar made of yellow copper.

Curiously, he examined the jar on all sides, shook it, and then to satisfy his

curiosity, pried it open.

To his amazement, a thick smoke began to billow forth from the vessel, and in

fear he dropped the jar to the ground.

But the smoke continued to rise, became a mist, and the mist became a

solid mass in the shape of a great genie.

The genie regarded the fisherman with a fierce look and said, I will

grant thee two wishes as a reward for having set me free.

But then, because it is my nature, I will surely kill thee.

Now the fisherman knew that it was impossible to argue with the genie.

So instead, he began to consider his first wish.

He said it, and in the wink of an eye, he was transported to the noble woman's

bedchamber. And the woman seemed to be expecting him.

Did you know I was coming?

I saw you this morning.

You saw me?

Why do you think I did it?

Just now, I had the feeling you'd be back.

Did you do it while I did it?

Yes.

Do you want me to do it again?

The fisherman continued with strength he never knew he had.

The woman, whose name was Triboli, inspired him, and she taught him how and

where to kiss her.

Slower. Like my nipple.

Harder.

Kiss all the way down.

Kiss me harder Lower

Lower

Master.

Master.

She even taught him the use of silk ropes and had him tie her to a chair so

he could see what she looked like.

And she let him enter her wherever he liked.

Afterwards, they made love first one way and then another.

Suddenly, the fisherman heard a noise coming from the next room.

My daughters are home.

Would you like to meet them?

Yes, I would.

Put

this

on and wait here.

I'll bring them to you.

Girls, this is the doctor.

I want you to be good and do everything he tells you.

The fisherman couldn't believe how well things were working out.

Well, which one of you is older?

I am.

What's your name? I'm Helen.

Lana.

Who would like to be examined first?

She would. She does.

We must decide.

I have an idea.

One hand has a pill.

The other is empty.

Pick.

This one.

You win.

We'll begin the examination now

Mr.

Prest

If you want to be my assistant, you must learn to examine properly.

Take your finger and rub here until it becomes hard.

It's the only way to examine.

Take them if you like.

They're over 18.

so so

. .

Thank you.

Thank you.

The fisherman enjoyed himself to the fullest until at last, exhausted, he

his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

When he opened them again, he was back on the beach with the genie standing

him.

Tomorrow, the genie said, and he struck his foot upon the ground which opened

and swallowed him up and closed behind him.

The fisherman was once again alone on the beach.

And now he had to think of his second and final wish.

Tell me what it was.

With your majesty's permission, I don't know.

If you would allow me the afternoon to remember, I could tell you tomorrow

night.

Each night,

Scheherazade told the Sultan a new story, and each story she told led to

beginning of another.

Her storytelling always ended at dawn, and curious to hear the next tale, the

Sultan put off her execution from day to day.

Her imagination was endless, and her creations included the everlasting

characters of Aladdin, Sinbad, and Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.

And so Ali Baba came to the rock that hid the cave, and he said the magic

words, Open, open Salome.

In the quiet of the afternoon, she invented her tales of faraway places and

magic events.

Sesame.

I like that.

Open Sesame.

One of her stories told of a prince who was given as a gift a horse made of pure

gold. On command, the horse would rise and carry the prince anywhere and at the

speed of lightning.

It was nearly dawn when the horse at last descended on solid ground.

The prince found himself thousands of miles from home and on the terrace of a

magnificent palace on the island of Nippon.

In the dim light, he found a staircase which led down into an apartment.

He listened at the door and then advanced cautiously into the room.

There, he saw a beauty so extraordinary that he fell in love at first sight.

The woman was still asleep and not able to restrain himself.

He slipped off his clothes and slipped into bed with her.

The young prince moved the covers aside ever so carefully.

And when he saw her naked, he was so overwhelmed that he could not stop

from caressing her.

The woman half woke and pretended the lovemaking to be coming from a husband

whose name was Ishido.

Hashido? Hashido?

Hashido? Hashido?

Hashido? Hello?

Hashino! Rito!

Oh, shit!

Did he escape?

Tomorrow.

Before coming into the Sultan's possession, Scheherazade had been owned

merchant prince.

With him, she had crossed the world twice, from China to the Mediterranean,

had learned languages and mathematics.

She lived for a while in China, where she studied sciences, and then in Tibet,

where she was taught the secret techniques of karma, the Hindu god of

pleasure. Her memory was perfect, and her stories were flights of fantasy

with details of her experiences.

Sometimes, when her tales were especially wicked, she would use girls

Sultan's court to illustrate a point.

Three of the girls were friends and had felt certain feelings for one another.

One afternoon, when they were alone, they inhaled a substance that was

to be used by the priests alone.

What happened is difficult to explain and went through many stages.

During one of these stages, the girls felt very warm towards each other.

and wanted to touch.

The first to move was Tamara, who slid her hand inside Kala's blouse and

touched her breasts.

They all felt dreamlike and seemed to move in a slowed motion.

Tamara and Kala began to kiss and caress.

And for an instant, the third felt jealous.

But then Kala...

turned and kissed her, and all three fell back onto the soft cushions.

They ceased to be three bodies and became all mouths and senses

and tongues and fingers.

They held each other's heads in their hands like cups and took long drinks

each other's lips.

They kissed until kissing became a torture.

Their fingers always found an opening, and the owner would move to accept it,

willingly.

No part of their bodies were ignored or escaped kissing.

Tongues replaced fingers and two of them attacked one, kissing each other and

taking turns at arousing their victim.

The pleasure that they gave her was so exquisite that it was almost impossible

to bear.

And she cried out for it to end and for it never to end.

One of the girls found an instrument used in certain ceremonies and put it to

another good use.

The three girls were so lost in each other and in the drug they had inhaled

they did not hear the temple guards return.

Each girl was punished.

Afterwards, the three were banished.

The first girl went north, the second south, and the third,

who was the youngest, traveled west.

along the caravan routes.

With my monarch's permission, the adventures of the third girl form the

of another story.

Scheherazade saved the story of the third and youngest girl for last.

Instead, she told the sultan more about the horse that was made of gold.

and able to carry its rider anywhere, and at the speed of light.

At that speed, the prince was not only carried backwards in time, but forwards

as well, and he found himself in a very strange place.

What are you dressed up for?

Well, I always dress this way.

Are you a pervert?

No, I don't think so.

That's too bad.

It'll be ten francs, then.

What's a franc?

Undress and I'll show you.

Arrgh!

Nanette. Robert.

Oh, shit.

Not again.

One night, Shehanza demonstrated her story herself.

The Sultan liked this story the best.

Jesus Christ.

Finish. Somewhere around the

tails of the fishermen, the Sultan had lost all thought of ending

life.

He had, in fact, fallen in love with her.

Now, on this thousandth and first night, Scheherazade told the Sultan her last

story. It was about the third girl, the one who had traveled west along the

caravan routes.

This girl, of course, was Scheherazade herself.

And now she told the sultan how she had managed to save her own life by

continuing to tell him stories.

When she finished, the sultan looked at Scheherazade for a long time, smiled,

and then asked,

Exactly what were these stories that Scheherazade told the Sultan?

I want to hear them all.

Should I begin?

Begin.

Scheherazade and the great Sultan Shaka Khan were soon married and Scheherazade

thus became the Sultana.

Their wedding was a small family affair.