Original subtitles

"...Thereupon Yazdgerd fled towards Marv and sought a watermill for refuge.

"The miller, longing for his treasures, killed Him in sleep..." (651 A.D.)

History!

Susan Taslimi

Mehdi Hashemi

in a film by Bahram Beizai

DEATH OF YAZDGERD

with Yasaman Arami, Amin Tarokh

A Lissar Film Group production

Director of Photography Mehrdad Fakhimi

Produced and directed by Bahram Beizai

No, reverend masters...

lofty commanders clad in armour from top to toe!

That which you administer now is not justice but rank tyranny.

This indeed is the place where his blood was shed...

- this uninvited guest -

but I'm not to blame for it.

He had already opted for death.

No, my armour-clad masters...

what you do to us is not what we deserve.

This is our verdict: man, miller...

with hands dipped in blood up to the elbow!

You shall be put to death...

presently...

but not so easily.

You shall swing on the gallows,

but not before your bones are crushed and your joints pulled apart.

Your espouse shall be thrown into the oven

and your daughter's hide shall be stuffed with straw.

The record of this horrible crime will hang from city, gates

and the name, of the miller shall be defiled forever.

May turbid darkness be cast away from the dungeon of the flesh!

May light be liberated from darkness and fire freed from smoke!

May turbid darkness be cast away from the dungeon of the flesh...

Where can we get some wood? Is there enough rope around here?

Shame on you!

Do you kill or plunder us?

Pull out the tent poles

and quickly raise the gallows.

As for the rope...

Yes, make haste lest we eat away,

and our tongue shall reveal the disgraceful story of his flight

and make people laugh at the valiant Shâh!

Yes, be quick!

Give me leave to work my sword here and now.

It'll get the job quickly done with only two thrusts and one cut.

Only two thrusts and one cut? Is there another way?

Takes a long time to make the gallows.

Let me hang 'em right here. Why bother about the gallows?

Simple-hearted man, whereto are you galloping so fast?

We're all commanders and captains of noble lineage,

and not looters and murderers.

And this is administering Justice not an ambush!

We do not kill them for the sake of killing.

Their death is a retribution for shedding the blood of a gallant King...

the Commander of commanders possessor of all possessors...

Shâh of all Shâhs, Shâh Yazdgerd, the son of Shâh Yazdgerd...

who himself was one of the sons of Yazdgerd the First.

This red rivulet you see here running flows from him...

who had royal blood in all his four hundred and sixty six veins,

and was placed above all men by the hand of Ahurâ Mazdâ.

Now that the enemy is pressing our throat,

what could serve them more then severing the head from the body.

And everyone knows that people are the body end the King is the head!

The King is not slain...

the King is not slain!

Is this not his body?

Do not make them laugh at us!

He is asleep, dreaming about us.

He was about to gather a great army and deliver the kingdom...

plain after plain from the countless hordes of the enemy.

What shattered hope!

By the end of the millennium,

the cycle of the ewe shall come to an end and that of the wolf shall commence...

- demons trampling on angels.

No, no. We did not kill him.

You charge us with your own fancy.

What a shameless lie!

Where is he who found him slain by their hands?

Did you not see these vultures clawing the carcass of the King?

Indeed,

I was the first to set foot in this desolate ruin;

and my hair stood on end - seeing what I saw.

The idle millstone seemed...

as if it had never turned,

and these three - the miller, his wife and his daughter -

sat around the bleeding body of the King moaning.

The King still in regal garb more magnificent than ever.

Dust rising in an oblique shaft of light...

rushing down from the casement to shroud his lifeless frame.

The streak of warm blood snaking across the floor...

and disappearing under the millstone.

Dark tokens of death scattered everywhere.

All this shall haunt me to my dying day.

I'm still amazed...

at the tears these ruffians poured over their victim.

We wept not for him but for ourselves.

- For my child! - My brother!

I raised him on my heart's blood till he was a comely youth.

My son, my only son...

was taken to the battle by your soldiers.

And before the rising of the new moon they wanted me...

to reward them tor bringing back his body soaked in blood...

and mangled with eight arrows.

Men are all soldiers of death.

Be brief woman and say if your sapling

was of the same worth as our sovereign!

May my tongue wither if I say so!

No, by heavens, no!

For me he was of much greater worth!

Did you hear that?

It is thus that this kingdom is now falling to pieces.

Say then you miller with a dead son...

have you revenged yourself upon the King?

Ay my breast was full of revenge...

but I did not kill him;

not out of goodness, but fear.

"A king has followers who'd look for him", you said.

And you said that I was right.

And you said that you should not raise your hand against him.

And I did not raise my hand against him!

Our only witness sleeps here.

I can no longer bear lies.

When the millennium comes to an end,

men such as you would be more than many.

And out of five words four would be lies.

You have turned your mill with our king's blood;

and a king is the shadow of Ahurâ Mazdâ.

Your cup will be filled with your blood! Desert dogs shall feast on your bones!

This is irrevocable;

and we have sworn that your household shall perish.

And the wind is already on its way.

And now in the midst of storm they spin the rope that'll presently press my neck.

And mouthing curses they raise the gallows for me.

Their thirsty swords shall be satisfied only with my blood.

Out of their anger they have raised a shield before me...

throwing my words back at me like broken javelins.

Ah, but where's the remedy?

O masters draped in anger know...

that I'm punished for my misery and no other sin.

You're punished for your greed.

The demon that raised its head in you was called avarice.

Tell us if you gazed at the king's shining breast plate...

or his knee-band or belly-band or leg-band?

We know well that the subordinate long to rise above their superiors.

The runner behind wants nothing more than to overtake the one running ahead of him.

Or the loser what does he want but winning?

The walker hates the rider and the beggar thirsts for the king's blood.

Even so I did not kill him...

- not out of detachment but fear.

"There are riders escorting the King who shall ride after him", you said.

Ignorant that I am I was afraid.

You then said that you should not raise your hand against him.

I did not raise my hand against him.

Our only witness sleeps here.

A few pieces of wet wood were found in the cellar.

This one can well stand the weight of the man.

Father's death shall make me lonelier than ever.

Lonely, dear daughter? Fear not...

for you too shall die quickly...

and I with you.

Now enemies ride forth from every side...

just as the eight winds blow from the mountains and the slopes...

from the forests and the plains...

from the sea and the rivers...

and from the wastelands and the deserts.

In the midst of this storm...

standing am I.

Look for the king's slayer not here but out there.

The King was slain already by the King.

He who came here was a feeble little man.

- Speak, but not over much! - Silent I cannot be.

If I do not say now what I have to say then when can I say it? Under the earth?

The King was not slain here.

He was dead before he came.

Make her hold her tongue!

And you do not call us oppressors!

Did not a man lost in the storm come to your battered mill?

He did...

like a shadow.

He was looking for death.

Babble no more!

Speak man before I whip you.

Did not a great man arrayed as a king come to this place?

Would that I had gouged my eyes with my own hands,

when standing at the threshold I saw him descend the hill.

- Then he did come to this forsaken ruin! - Ay.

- On his own feet? - Ay, he came. He did.

And he was agitated. He came in rags.

This "he" you talk about was the King of kings.

How could we know?

He came here as a beggar.

To a place so dark and dank. This forsaken pit.

He came like a frightened wayfarer;

so frightened that we took him for a bandit...

who having looted people on the road...

was now blowing out the lamp with a terrified puff.

He threw himself down in a corner and asked for the casements to be closed.

Was it not that your heart was jolted?

He was surely a thief.

Or a beggar. How could we know?

Give me something to eat!

Say now, man! Before they raise your gibbet.

Tell us what the King told you.

Did he not think of going to war with the Arab enemy?

"Give me something to eat" he said.

Something to eat?

Here's the bread bundle.

- Dry bread? - Should we bake you a loaf?

Meat! I'm hungry! Give me a piece of meat!

Meat! Did you hear that?

You sound as if you've never tasted meat

or seen a partridge or a pheasant.

What am I saying?

Is there no sheep or goat I could buy for a piece of gold?

It would've been good to have a goat...

for our girl here is sick and goat's milk is said to be her cure.

I'm hungry and you talk about medication for the girl!

What a mean hovel have I fallen into!

Where is this and what wretches are you?

I didn't know that creatures outside Ctesiphon,

neither believed in God nor followed the Magi.

Ctesiphon! Did you hear, woman? All the flour that I make goes to Ctesiphon.

I'm hungry!

Why didn't you stay in Ctesiphon and eat as much as you wanted?

How could I eat this dry bread?

Dip it in water. For guests there's whey to go with it.

He ate what was my dinner.

Shut your mouth you impudent whore!

Give me water!

We're ordered around in our own house!

I don't think he's a beggar.

Beggars beg but he takes.

He behaves like the master of the house.

His power doubtless comes from the gold he carries.

We must look into his bag, miller.

Be quiet and let him sleep!

Outside, there's storm everywhere.

And while he slept you looked into his bag.

When we found all those royal pearls in his bag...

we took it that he was a bandit who had robbed the King.

All those royal pearls should have indicated to you...

that he was a mighty king...

the head of all heads and the King of all kings.

Do kings seek safety in flight?

Beg like beggars?

Steal their own belongings?

Disguise?

Noticing the regal garb and the golden crown...

he had concealed in the bag...

we took him for a common thief who had stripped a nobleman...

of his clothes and stolen his jewels.

Yes, all that we thought.

What a banquet...

what a banquet it was!

And I was an invited guest.

The King is not slain.

Neighbours have abandoned us.

Foreign hordes are everywhere. Take to your heels...

No!

How could one really know that he was the King?

Curse on miseries as well as glories of this world!

We followed him on swift horses,

but he was far ahead of us on his swifter mount.

And in the storm we lost his track.

Darkness - curse upon its demons -

holding the reins of our horses took them where it wanted.

Curse upon the evil Ahriman!

Twice, thrice, thirty times, a thousand times!

Today in the dimness of dawn when heavens like a crow's plumage...

were a mixture of darkness and light our easy paced horses boggled thrice.

We then let them lead us to this hovel and as we opened the door,

the slashed body of the mighty King spattered blood over the skies.

Girls know the meaning of blood.

Shut up! Are you not afraid I would raise my hand against you?

Why should I? I have nothing left to loose.

In this den of darkness his blood shines like a midnight sun.

His wounds cry out for justice.

They must be brought to death!

Yield no ground to anger!

Would you kill them now with a thrust of your sword?

Such a death would be a delight to them and very quick too.

No!

I'll tell you what they deserve...

a slow death...

long and ugly...

a death that is ten times dying.

Pray Mubad,

pray!

How does the moon wax? How does the moon wane?

Who causes it to rise and set except you o Ahurâ Mazdâ?

May He come to our aid!

May He come to comfort us!

May He come to forgive us!

May He come to give us victory!

Will there be prayers for us too when we are gone?

I wish the impious dead! I wish the malevolent dead!

I wish the devil-worshipper dead! May we never follow them!

May we never succumb to them! May we never become their play things!

May the world be cleansed of their names!

Is there no prayer to break the sleep of death?

Better not speak of the impossible.

Tell us you noble soldier...

how can it be broken this sleep of death?

True it cannot.

His sleep was broken. Don't you remember?

His sleep was broken.

And you did not even recognise him you blind-hearted ruffians!

Hands off the bag!

- Look, he's rolling over. - His sleep was broken.

Roaring, he woke up sticking a hand under his head.

One hand under the head searching for the satchel of gold

and the other reaching for the sword.

Little man what're you looking for in the satchel?

Once he realised we knew about the pieces of gold he lost his bearing.

"I'm the King" he cried...

"Look at me. I'm the King."...

You laughed.

She did.

"I'm the King!"...

Every man is king in his own house.

And thus the king of this hovel is that miserable miller.

He drew his sword.

He drew his sword!

O King if you're a warrior go fight the enemy!

Why do you make war with us?

- My head! - He held his head.

In my head there is a noise. The beating of a thousand drums.

Soldiers as numerous as the sands of the desert.

- This is a game to cheat us. - I think so too.

Does he at all behave like a king?

This is him. It is he himself. I know that garb.

That breast-plate, all in gold.

That greave and elbow-piece.

That wrist-band and belly-band. All pieces of pure gold.

Ay. I know the King.

"If you", said I "with your helmet armour horse and shield...

"would run away how could I...

"with my bare body and empty hands stand still?"

He was frightened. Couldn't stay within himself. He was worn out.

He moaned and groaned hitting his head against this shade-pole.

He shouted that the enemy was coming.

He tried to hide the sword...

the crown and the regal garment. He was looking for a place to hide.

I shouted.

- He shouted. - I insulted him.

- You did not. - I said "O King,

"Commander, may your legs that have carried you here be broken!

"Who will answer for my years of suffering?

"I've paid you tribute every day of my life.

"I've fed your horsemen.

"And now that the enemy comes you run away,

"and leave me hand-tied...

"you who tied my hands for many years.

"And I no longer possess the knowledge of war and the stomach for battle."

Yes, I insulted him. I hit him.

- You hit him. - Once, twice, thrice.

No fouler deed was ever done anywhere in this tormented land.

Why, and your hand didn't break?

You hit the King and heaven and earth stayed intact in their place?

I hit him.

You hit him. Playfully and merrily...

as they hit a clay-king in new year.

We never believed him to be the King.

Indeed he seemed nothing more than a taunting liar.

Silence!

Do you not know that the soul stays hovering over the body for three days?

He is here amongst us.

May he not suffer much...

and give way to anger!

May he not speak!

Do you hear, woman? The soul of the King is here still.

Grab hold of him! Close the casements and do not let him escape!

Hit him!

Devastate him! Crush him!

What're you doing?

Go to hell, o soul...

or speak and say that we have told the truth!

Speak, o soul! To what corner have you crawled?

Where are you? Here? Take this!

These torturers... You've made them come here...

and you yourself must answer them.

Cease!

You act as if you're conjurers and fiendish fellows.

Have you renounced your faith?

If the soul of the King is here let it then hear my curse:

be damned, o soul!

Away with the magician's magic! Away with the curser's curse!

Away with the evil-doer's evil!

To the four comers of the earth did I banish them...

and tied their thousand hands with that invocation.

Block your ears and do not hear...

for I am looking for the foulest language.

Enough, woman!

I'll no longer suffer the spirit of the King to be defiled.

Do you hear, woman?

These masters won't stand your taunts.

And insults.

Are taunts and insults also the property of the nobles...

to be expended at their convenience?

No, they're stones and pebbles on the ground...

and I too can throw a few of them at you.

You've added the red-hot rod to your punishment.

You can surely do worse than that!

Your tongue will be cut, woman!

Do not return their rage.

Why?

My tongue knows much about your King.

Did I not tell you he'd had a dream?

- A dream? - That which people see with eyes closed.

Now, that is strange! Do you hear?

Our King must have had a ruffled dream.

There's always a secret in a dream.

Tell me the secret, woman!

Glad tidings, greatest Commander!

May the lamp of your fortune glow! Your huntsmen have trapped a happy game:

a half-dead Arab warrior with bleeding wounds.

An Arab?

Their swords're curved like the crescent moon.

And their robes are made of black wool.

And here is a louse!

Loosen his tongue! What does he know?

What we need to know is surely what he hides.

What sort of a man is he? A soldier, drummer, mule-driver?

He's a man, lost.

He who is lost is also a man. And how is he?

Obstinate but hungry. Also much agitated.

More agitated than the dream of a king?

Give him bread and whey and then whip him until he talks!

And ask him how many Arabs there are and where they are.

What's on their minds? Are they on horseback or on foot?

Going away or getting nearer? Passing or staying?

Why has he stayed behind? Is he a messenger, an informer or a scout?

Ask him why they destroy, burn and wear black?

And this God they talk about why is he so enraged?

He doesn't answer, Commander.

- Out of insolence? - He speaks no Persian.

Tie him with a cord!

Hold him and beat him with a stick and make him talk!

- Is the gallows ready? - What's not ready is the furnace...

to heat the rod.

They don't have enough firewood.

Do not hope in vain!

If you find no fire poke his eyes with a cold rod. Go!

Go, quick! And make him talk!

Now, what was that dream?

I'm listening to you too, woman.

You said that our King had had a dream.

Yes, of the kind that only kings have.

Everyone knows that there are messages in dreams.

Say, woman. was there a secret in the king's dream?

Why did he wake up agitated?

He was afraid of you!

Afraid... of us?

People like you!

Her tongue shall rid her of her head.

Let it if it cannot release me!

- What benefit such talk brings? - And what loss?

- Tell us the dream! - No, I close my lips.

Speak, woman for thus orders the great Commander!

He ordered my tongue to be cut.

How can a severed tongue speak?

That was out of anger. Speak, woman!

The great Mubad is asking you.

Should you be begged of?

What else could you do?

- You frighten me! - Do not make it worse!

Don't come near me!

A warrior horseman such as I...

with grey hair is asking you.

- I'm thirsty. - Water!

Throw it away!

Light a fire!

How dark it is. I see nothing.

- Is there no lamp here? - What happened to her?

She wasn't so disturbed.

- Why does she run away? - What are you hiding from?

A lamp!

- What's happened? - I had a bad dream.

- Where are my interpreters? - I'm here, your Majesty!

I dreamed I was riding...

my nimble horse in a boundless desert.

Out of the earth grew...

not thorn...

or grass...

but groves of sharp swords.

My life was all an agitated dream.

In such a ruin of a mill which I've inherited from my forefathers...

what else can you have but agitated dreams?

Riding the wind misfortune was coming.

A dream in such an hour of the day when there's neither light nor dark...

and time moves neither forwards nor backwards doubtless holds a message.

A peerless horseman sharp-speared...

The warlike deity...

the supportive Bahrâm...

he who heartened me the courageous one...

who made the enemies tremble with fear...

riding a bay horse...

showed me the way with the sweep of his banner.

Then a black wind broke out.

A devilish rising wind,

wild, unbridled.

And dust filling my eyes.

As I rubbed and opened them...

the sharp-speared and warlike deity...

the supportive Bahrâm...

he who heartened me the courageous one...

who made the enemies tremble with fear...

even he had disappeared in the dust.

Yes, I lost him in the wind.

Now we should know why the King was so frightened.

We do not sell our guests to anyone.

Do you not? Why not? It is the best of deals.

There are scores of buyers for my head.

Many commanders with words of fidelity on their lips...

secretly crave the throne of Yazdgerd.

Are you not tempted by this gold?

- No! - You fool!

Make your bundle!

You have here a marketable merchandise.

Just take it to the buyers:

my head in the sack.

I shall write you the names of those who'd give you gold for it!

He's mad!

Mad?

Ay, mad!

My army was no more than a band of betrayers...

who turned their back to me and took to their heels...

when counting on them...

I attacked the heart of the enemy.

My hair was not grey until loneliness pressed me tight in its grip.

My terror was so great...

that the Arab warriors were stunned into opening a way for me.

Do you hear?

He's running away from friends not enemies.

Good Thoughts, Good Words and Good Deeds; what's become of them?

The Oath of Courage; what's happened to it?

And the Banner of Blacksmiths; where has it gone?

Rocks are being thrown at me from every side.

These words truly show that he's the King.

A king who has terror as his banner

and whose army is but loneliness.

You didn't do well making yourself known to me!

There's a pain in my heart. You know I had a son.

No, don't speak!

In your name they took him away as a soldier.

And he returned as if from the land of the dead.

My green boy!

Now the injured spirit of the boy...

rises in my head...

and prompts me to kill you, King.

That is well. Let me cause it more injury...

if this is truly so.

Say what you will but don't be harsh...

with the sad spirit of my little boy...

who's now descending through the slanting lights of the roof...

with a cracked skull and a bronze face.

I'm truly frightened...

piling terror upon terror.

Where is he?

My little brother, he's here!

He's pointing his finger at you.

Is it not time, now to strike?

He's throwing up blood

and truly there are drops of it on the floor.

My little brother!

He ran away from the casement.

There's no blood there.

The roof light is quite pale now.

No!

Every king is followed by horsemen who will arrive...

sooner or later.

My boy!

My boy!

It seems from the howling of the wind...

that my mill is swallowed up by the storm.

The low-bred are very much like their own lowness.

They're obsessed by their petty interests...

and think only about bread and water...

to satisfy their growling bellies.

Here the King found nothing but foulness and callous hatred.

Look at these evil, obstinate animals who'll not gain in humanity...

even as the mighty bring them comfort...

and kings honour them with pity.

Coarse-tongued man!

What comfort?

Which pity?

Look at those made-up faces!

The high-born such as you have crushed our bones.

You and all those freshly-draped upstarts...

you've plunged your snouts in our flesh.

The difference between you and I is that sword dangling on your side.

Cut be your tongue!

That's why you wear a sword.

Had a sack of flour been left,

I would've poured it on my head

and turned white from top to toe.

Thus...

perhaps dazzling Nâhid...

would've taken me for an angel...

or washed me...

instead of her daughter...

in some spring.

What am I to say, men?

My husband is a distracted miller...

who has ground nothing in this mill but his own wretchedness.

A man regretting manhood...

earning nothing but sighs and sweat...

in the coldest cold and the hottest heat.

Such is my husband...

the man to whom you promised your sword.

What do we have but a crumbling roof

and a groaning millstone that goes round and round in circles?

He groaned...

even as this stone...

and he went round in circles...

when the man in tatters...

revealed his rank.

- Why do you laugh? - You're terrified.

I'd never seen a man so terrified.

You move left and right and beat your knees.

You sigh like a bird of sorrow...

and all the while steal yourself even from yourself.

- You're sad. - Silence!

Don't you hear a hubbub?

They saw that ancient marble figures...

standing in the palace of a hundred columns...

have thrown down the gifts they bore for a thousand years

and run away to the desert.

- Did you ask something? - I laughed at you.

Ah, yes...

I also laughed much once.

Put on this gilded crown...

and repeat the very words of the King.

He was preoccupied.

He kept beating his wrinkled brow...

with the palm of his hand.

He was preoccupied.

Not far from here my horse threw me down...

and vanished into the darkness of the storm.

The dead now come out of their crypts.

People are struck by lightning.

They go to meet the enemy, I've heard with gifts of bread and dates.

Look...

He's speaking the words of the King.

What would the great think of a King who's a fugitive in his own realm?

Nothing great.

A fugitive in my own realm I move from house to house everywhere a stranger...

and not invited to any table.

My easy-paced horse...

instead of carrying me to battle...

took me away from it.

Shame on me!

What foolish prattle is this? Don't try your came on us, you impostor!

You keep sighing to keep us from asking questions...

about the owner of this gold.

Otherwise you're no more than a man such as my husband: poor and churlish.

I'll not charge you for the bread you've eaten if you quickly depart.

With what horse?

And where to?

Doors are all closed to me.

Only here as if in a caravanserai the door is open.

I told this little man to mend the bolt but he didn't do it.

The sun and the moon are in opposition.

There's no respite anywhere.

The world lies in wait for me.

Why do you moan?

My chest,

my belly.

I have a pain in both.

It's from hunger, dear girl. This I learned today.

In Ctesiphon I knew nothing about this world.

Groans never reached my ears. I'd turned my back to the world.

And now the world has turned its back to me.

Why do you moan?

My pain, my pains!

Yes, you've already told me. Why did I forget, then?

In Ctesiphon I closed the doors one by one to myself.

But here I found no doors...

With gold coins I'll buy the mill from you.

Tell me miller, how much?

He wants us to put a price on this ruin.

You be the miller and say what I answered.

Take the whole sack!

Is there no one to sell me this ruin of a mill for pieces of gold?

There's no profit in this trade, man.

We're helpless and bankrupt.

The millstone is worn out. The columns are broken.

And we've already eaten our draft animal.

Ah, yes...

I've heard that horses have trampled on their riders...

and obedient dogs bare their teeth to their masters.

No matter, here, we have pieces of gold!

Why are you moaning?

I have a burning heart!

Other than the wound it has left in my soul...

this mill shall yield no profit.

You should run away!

Why does he try to rid himself of the coins?

Nowadays possessing gold means trouble

and he who has it is not safe.

Are there people lying in wait outside and are we to die for your sake?

- Count! - Stolen coins!

He cannot be a thief. Robbers spend their money more wisely.

What use is this ruin to you?

The rafters are falling off

and neighbours have all run away.

What do you want it for,

if not as a mill?

Suicide.

Suicide?

That is what he said.

Suicide. Why do you laugh?

I didn't laugh.

- How much? - All that I have.

You're indeed teasing us.

It's a mean joke...

to give hope and then take it back...

and laugh heartily at your dupes.

When will you heartily laugh at us?

What's the use of laughing at us?

It's the world that's laughing at me.

Don't moan!

All the coins!

- I accept. - But there's a condition.

- What? - I knew it couldn't be without a hitch.

Why, out with it, damn you!

My hands do not obey me.

- Are you afraid? - The dagger does not obey my hand.

Kings are without fear.

They're not without death but surely without fear.

Are you afraid of death as you are of life?

With all my being.

Did he, the King, declare that he was afraid?

With his four hundred and forty pieces of bones!

I do not hear. I will not listen!

In the army of liars you're the commander.

Did the King in his own words declare that he was afraid?

Say, King, did I hear you right? Did you say you wore afraid?

To my very roots.

All stars be cursed!

Yes, I'll give you all the coins if you help me.

- What help? - Strike the dagger!

Do you hear? He's trying to disown his guilt.

In such a way that I will not know when or how!

Stay with me a day. then from behind, in sleep...

however you wish. Only don't let me know when!

This is murder, not help!

My saddlebag is full of coins. A whole load of them.

Say, say what my answer was then!

The miller said: "Woman! Whore!

"Beware!

"I begin to understand what it means to be a king.

"And if it is such a frightening business,

"why is it that lords and heroes seek it so dearly?

"Look how he moans!"

My enemies thirst for my blood

and I'm weary of living.

If only my horse had not run away!

To tell you the truth, I, too, wish him dead.

Had he not been what he is my lot would not have been so grim.

And yet I am a man with clean hands.

My bread was of rye but never soaked in blood.

Let me look for an omen in the dust.

Say something woman!

Is it good or bad?

You girl! Come and be the miller's wife and say what my answer was.

I, the miller's wife?

Miller, keep me at your side for a while!

Impudent wretch!

Be the miller's wife and listen to what the King has to say!

I wish I could leave and be a shepherd.

Everyone can run away...

except the king. - Kings always run away

and we're the executioner's prey.

Not always.

You can invoke their gods hold their stirrup

make way for them and then you'll be one of them.

The inferior thus become superior

and you shall continue to pay tribute.

No, there's no blame.

You cannot kill a nation,

but you can slay a king.

And once the king is dead the nation dies.

What sound is this?

- It's the coins! - A whole sack full of them.

Do you hear?

Gold was of use to me,

when I could save my little boy

when I could buy medicine for my little daughter.

Today left alone in the desert

without a soul in sight,

what should I do with gold?

There'll be an end to grief. People shall return.

Ruins will be reclaimed and inhabited by people.

Stay and welcome happiness!

Happiness? With enemies around?

Hide your treasure and no one will know.

This is a time-honoured practice.

Do you hear, woman?

He makes me wonder.

What is to be done?

Our water shall turn into blood you say?

But listen!

This is the voice of our daughter burning with fever

and moaning from pain.

And she'll take a husband some day

and she'll need all those coins.

Hey, what say you?

What is to be done?

Why do you ask me when you know the answer?

Why, you're already whetting your knife!

It is clear he's testing our loyalty...

measuring our hospitality

and as soon as you comply he'll reveal his other face.

The smouldering temper shall burst out into flames

and consume us all.

Therefore do not comply;

be furious instead and season your remarks with many an oath.

He may then be satisfied

and if he's truly the King,

he may give you a few coins.

Otherwise what mad man would be king and ask for death?

Lend no ear to this fable.

It is nothing but trickery.

I thought as much myself.

Having taken us for dupes he's now testing us variously.

No, guest!

Be whoever you are but know that I am a miller,

not a bandit!

Now that he's not here every lie looks like the truth.

My husband offered him a bed,

a bite and a cup.

- Is this the bed? - He gave him what he had.

- And this, the cup? - We're not to blame if it's cracked.

There's hospitality for you, masters...

He suffered evil but did no evil.

The King asked him thrice to kill him for coins,

and thrice he refused.

These words are but wind, o host of liars!

He, the possessor of all possessors the spleeny sovereign...

was not a man to kneel.

Would a king such as he kill himself? Your mouths be filled with dust!

And if it be otherwise give me solid proof!

Ay, proof, proof!

Something prickles my mind.

Ay...

now that this world is disjointed

I can without fear say something

even though I belong to lower ranks.

What is this?

Is it about the King or his slayers?

We did not lose him in the storm.

He fled from us.

The sovereign, you say fled from his subjects?

May Ahurâ Mazdâ forgive me a thousand times!

Kingship to him was no longer anything but a precipice to fall from.

He ran away from his stars not his subjects.

I saw him saddling his horse.

Were you not the warrior I know,

I would have taken you for an enemy.

I saw him put his foot furtively in the stirrup.

The sovereign for whom the stirrup had always been held by slaves?

Now I know why you're still in lower ranks!

I'm an old man, Commander.

Be angry with me but do not shout at me.

If I'm wrong tell me and tell me why!

Everyone knows that the King was a peerless slayer of lions

a match for dragons

and great, in the eyes of the warlike deity...

the supportive Bahrâm.

Would an ocean-hearted sovereign

on meeting a handful of desert-dwellers attempt to kill himself?

He commanded me.

Speak!

He commanded me.

Never, never!

He commanded me twice, thrice, four times.

We've never killed a guest.

Is there nothing in the Books of Counsel on respecting the will of a king.

There is.

It is written that the tidings of Ahurâ reside in the king.

- So, here's the command of Ahurâ Mazdâ! - I hear nothing.

He who obeys not the command shall have an end darker than shameful death.

Deceitful demons shall crush his limbs

and for nine thousand years he shall be prey to nightmares under the earth.

Now that pure gold does not arouse you

from the lofty pedestal of kingship high above your shoulder

from the midst of Ahurâi glory do I command you,

o man, miller to slay me! Are you not afraid?

If you're the King you have people following you.

Those are the ones I am afraid of.

Has death, too turned its back on me?

O King! You said that if you die a nation dies.

How could I dip my hands in the blood of a nation?

Kill him, man! Perhaps a new nation shall be born out of his death.

I'm neither a nurse nor a midwife.

I am a miller. I have people bread. This is the only thing I have.

The world has chosen you to shed my blood, man!

The Arab army followed us everywhere:

yelling roaring and clamouring.

An army thick and tangled

with a banner the colour of dark smoke.

Everything has turned away from me

except this army

that follows me like my own shadow.

Your enemy, o King is not this army

but the people's plight which you yourself have brought about.

How could a handful of men achieve by themselves anything so momentous?

Many fire-temples are still intact.

With warm words people should be taught how to war.

Do not prattle, priest!

Having been oppressed for so long people no longer believe in you.

Heavens be cursed!

Anyone speaking in that vein would have had his tongue pulled out.

What other attainments can you boast of besides that?

I change my verdict.

Ours cannot be changed!

You, man, are chosen by providence.

Once again I command you, miller,

to entertain me with my own blood.

To disobey the King, he says is to challenge Ahurâ Mazdâ.

Ay, and throughout the kingdom of Persia

no one has ever disobeyed the King of Kings.

Is that true? Then I am pleased. Now order the Arab army to retreat!

You scoff at me.

Your command was obeyed only in Ctesiphon and not here.

Did you hear? I disobeyed.

Is it just that slaves should disobey their sovereigns?

I don't understand.

Had he killed him he would've been a murderer

and now he is disobedient.

What should he have done, then?

Nothing, woman.

Sin is born with us.

And my twin mate

which is the nearest thing to my soul

is called destitution.

Ladders proved very useful.

I told foot-soldiers to raise a crypt with stones instead of digging one.

The earth is hard and the spade worn out,

but corpses cannot be left without a grave.

Apart from all this I cannot find a pick.

Has the man confessed to anything?

He mumbles something but we do not understand him.

An oil-less wick.

Perhaps the masters will get something out of him.

Shall I fetch him?

No!

It's unbelievable that the miller was not seduced by gold;

unbelievable that he did not strike the dagger;

unbelievable that he did not slay the King.

You must indeed have killed him

and other than this everything is unbelievable.

The gibbet is set.

It only needs a piece of rope.

There's rope in the cellar.

You've ruined me.

Don't take too much! Where is the wood from?

- Leave the leftovers! - If you want him alive beat the drum

but if you want his head blow the horn!

To those whose hands are tied...

you're a champion you block-head, you ape!

Silence! Who told you to speak?

This is my house and I speak as I please.

I shall not sell my husband cheaply to death.

Stay! Do not flounce, you dismal heretic!

Our verdict will not change.

Did you not hear that the gibbet was set?

Why should I not do what I can?

May your frame never enjoy freedom again, Commander,

for you brought untimely death to our house!

Even now that edicts of this vast land are changing...

the rich are as always delivered

and the weak are kept in bonds.

Why did you not run away?

I had no mule to pack my wares on.

The world is lying in wait...

for my chastity.

All things have conspired to add to my misery.

The mule dies...

the neighbour goes away...

the millstone breaks...

and someone

brings his death here.

When he lost all hope of death...

the stranger devised a new stratagem.

He tried to rouse my anger.

Why was not your anger roused?

He looked and looked and looked at my face.

- Fie! - Then spat at it.

Stop, stop, stop!

He hit me in the chest.

O, stone-hearted creature...

bandit, evil-eyed!

O, you idiot!

O, you fool!

For so many long years...

you've turned a mill in the midst of this desert...

eating rye bread and dry dates.

Is there no power of vengeance in you?

Am I not your King as well as your enemy?

You haven't seen my palace in Ctesiphon.

We don't sleep on straw there.

You haven't seen our Negârestân Carpet...

with warps of gold and woofs of silver...

patterned with trees and birds and flowers...

all inlaid with priceless gems.

I have a chess set with rows of red and yellow rubies.

And a set of backgammon made of clear emeralds.

I have thirty two thousand pieces of precious rubies.

Do you know?

And the Treasure of the Bride

and the Green Treasure

and the Treasure of the Wind

and the Treasure of the Regal Brocade

and the Burnt Treasure

and the Arched Throne

and the Great Tent

and the Golden Palace

and twelve thousand slave-girls.

Should more be said?

Are you not roused to anger?

Is there no power of vengeance in you?

I told him:

"O man", I said, "Whoever you are. Whether a King,

"a beggar in rags or a highway man...

"do not rouse my anger!

"My heart swells and I might do harm either to you or to myself."

1,200 elephants

13,000 camels of burden

and the Game Garden

and the Garden of the Beheaded Hero

and the Emerald Garden

and the Garden of the 12,000 Greyhounds

and 700,000 horsemen

and 300,000 foot-soldiers

and 100,000 riding horses

and 100,000 gold scabbards

and every year I receive 795 times...

a million drachmas from every direction.

I told him: "You evil-wisher loose-tongued babbler,

"you oppressor! Do not rouse my anger!

"I'm a man of ripe age and soon I shall be gone.

"Misfortune has made me cruel.

"And I do not wish to harm my guest."

He was laughing.

He reached for the whip and took him to task:

"O man", he said:

"You don't have the courage of an experienced slave.

"To you foulness is clean and disgrace counts as virtue.

"You do not value your King as a king.

"I had guard dogs whose voice I haven't heard for some time.

"Fall on your feet as dogs do!

"Like my dogs walk on all fours and bark!

"My nimble horse has not given me a ride for two days.

"Where's the saddle? I would put it on you.

"O, man! Tell your wife to come to my bed!

"Quick, quick!"

O, King, do not beat me.

Do not make me the laughing stock of people!

I'm a man with little patience left

and I might raise my hand against you.

Let me be! Leave me!

Your tongue be cut and your lips, sutured! You prattle so and you babble.

You foolish dastardly villain step aside...

and do not block my way!

I've just begun to notice your daughter who despite her ailments is not at all bad

and her lips are the colour of jujube.

And she's beginning to get ripe. Invite me to the fruits of her flesh!

O, King, you say things I do not understand.

If you do not understand my language,

you will that of the whip!

I know you want to test me. You fathom my fidelity.

There's no question about my fidelity none.

Do not make me more despicable than I am. O, King, let me kiss your knees!

O, King, he has fallen on his knees. Isn't that enough?

Did you say, "on his knees"? He has yet to rub his head in the dust.

Go down in the dust and lie there,

until I give your daughter the honour of lying under me!

- What do you want from me? - Jujubes and almonds laced with sugar.

No! Save me father! Save me!

No, no. This is all a trial for me.

All this is just to test me.

You're ripe and ready, girl!

Do you prefer the sweet tongue or the serpent whip?

I shall not be angry.

No, I shall not be angry.

Deliver me, father!

The dagger is on my throat. Deliver me!

A more shameful story has never been forged.

How could our sovereign crave a base slave-girl?

He who had three-thousand women in Ctesiphon each one better than the other.

Would that there was a sack of flour here

and I could pour it on my head

and turn white all over!

Would it be so!

My daughter...

she was never...

so lost and helpless...

with a dead look in her eyes.

You're tall

and twice as wide as I am.

Your might challenges my chastity.

And through the casement...

I watch the devil...

riding away on a grey horse.

No,

no!

My daughter was not like this.

He wanted to fathom my fidelity.

To raise a hand against the King: such an infernal sin!

No, not me!

And now a hell more fearsome bums me from within.

What is this boiling river running through my veins?

And this turmoil lodged in my heart?

I shall slay him.

Ay, there's a millstone in my heart.

I pity the slain man.

Cut be your tongue!

Strike the dagger harder!

I shall slay him...

twice, thrice, four times...

Strike, strike!

I slew him.

Ay, and I am glad.

You saw it with your own eyes.

The words of this monster are they not enough to prove his guilt?

The truth finally spoke up.

Ay, an honest account cried itself out and we all heard it.

This is our justice!

But you did not kill him!

No, I did not!

What useless concealment!

I did not kill him. That was a false account.

Wherefore lie?

I feared that you would take me for a shameless father.

I did not kill him until he began to play with me.

- Play? - What play?

Well did I call myself king

and fooled you...

to get food, bed and bedmate.

Well, did I make sport of you.

Well, did I trick you with games?

Who am I, even to be made a door-keeper?

Any vagabond can walk in and call himself a king

and slip into your daughter's bed.

How easily,

how easily! - Not so easily! Not so.

Where's my club?

Her flesh was good.

Happy hospitality!

Where's my club?

Give me my stick! Hold my hand up!

Pull out the rafter!

Do you hear?

You did hear in this court that he cried out for his club.

To kill the King!

Who said I was the King?

Does my countenance shine with divine light?

Do I have an army

or a palace

or comely slave-girls?

Do I have a nation?

He has a treasure with him.

I've stolen it.

From whom, ask him!

From you.

Add up the wages of all your days

would they not add up to a treasure?

The days of my life.

I've forgotten when they began.

I stole all your days.

Then you are the King!

How could it be otherwise?

The days of my life.

Always I wished to plead justice with the King,

and now that he's here,

with whom should I plead justice?

Give back what you took from me, o King...

the days of my life...

my wasted hopes...

and my daughter's chastity!

Blood! Blood!

Blood gushed out of his mouth.

That's not enough!

Tell me, King,

how did you find my daughter?

Did she give you a good ride?

It rained all night

and he stood alone before me.

Speak, o mighty King!

Was she easy-paced when giving the ride?

I... killed... him!

Did you enjoy her?

Was she tame when you lay upon her and rode within her?

My club!

Strike!

Days of my life!

Strike!

All my wages!

Strike!

Strike!

Strike!

I slew him.

I pity the slain man...

I pity the slain man.

Father,

why did they kill you?

Be silent and stop your follies!

Father, father! What did they do to you?

Not another word!

Father, why did they kill you?

How?

Do you hear? What does she say?

He who sleeps here is my father.

A poor miller,

who received no reward from life...

not even...

after his death.

What are you saying?

Is this not the-blood-covered countenance of the King?

You should know that she has lost her wits.

Father, speak and answer them!

My child,

my child!

Why did I abandon you?

Do you hear?

The dead man speaks.

Nothing like this has ever been written in the sacred books.

Truth is calling us from the other world.

May my memory be obliterated!

Hold them and let me see.

And you get all of you together!

This is our war council.

Quick!

It is said that this is not the body of the King.

Has anyone seen his face at close range?

No one ever dared to look at his majestic countenance;

and he did not show his face to everyone.

Were you not the first to recognise the King...

on seeing his lacerated corpse?

I recognised him by his crown...

for I had never seen him without his dazzling mask of pure gold.

A piece of rare gold the shine of which blinded the eye.

Head of all Priests...

Guardian of the Luminous Fire-Temple, speak!

You had seen him many times.

I had, indeed...

but not with his face blue with the colour of death

and speckled with dried blood;

his mouth half open, his eyes fixed upon the rafters

and his whole countenance bearing signs of deadly pain.

I myself had never encountered him...

except when he wore his guilded helmet or sat behind a screen.

It is, therefore, difficult for me...

to say how far that glory is from this blood-covered corpse.

What should be done now?

In this sorry state even the King's bedmates could not recognise him.

Let alone the servants who kept their heads bowed all the time.

If he is the miller, then where's the King?

I told you thrice that he fled in disguise...

for the only thing he had in mind was to get away.

I've nothing more to say even though your disbelief may lead to my ruin.

Woe on us if this dead man should only be a nameless miller!

For I graced him with the Prayer of the Kings.

Fie! What days are these?

Even when the kingdom is being overrun by the enemy

our brave and warlike commanders continue to wreak vengeance

on humble folk.

Silence!

Where's the mortar?

Stand straight, Soldier! What do you want the mortar for?

The miller's bones must be pounded.

There's the mortar and here's the oven.

- Anything else that you want? - Only an axe!

Read out the scroll of victory and sound the trumpet...

for you've vanquished the humble and the empty-handed!

If that's the miller's corpse,

who is this man?

The Arab prisoner is ready to die but he won't speak.

Yet he keeps mumbling something.

It should be found out whether the Arabs are coming or going.

That indeed is necessary!

Who are you, man?

Can we speak together in private for a few moments?

We three?

A family council.

Why not. If thinking together can add to your wisdom.

Why not, indeed. If it brings perspicacity to those who indulge their folly.

And if it brings about what we're after,

ponder together and ponder more.

But woe on you if it doesn't yield the knowledge we seek!

Wait outside but watch the doors. These are your prisoners.

Let all exits be blocked!

Off we go!

And when we return that man's face...

must be cleared of flour and all that covers it.

Show me where the Arab is.

What is it that you should say and we must not hear?

Get lost!

I wish one of you would run away!

My lance will be lying in wait.

You would make good meat for my skewer!

Pity my lance is poisoned.

To hell!

What's on your mind, woman?

Fool, there's no escape!

If they take this carcass to be the corpse of the fallen King,

they'll also spill our blood.

We must say and repeat that this is not the King.

We all know that this corpse is that of the miller.

If this is the miller, then who am I?

This is the question soon to be asked.

If I'm not the miller, then I must be the King, right?

No other way.

If you be not the King, then you'll be the King's killer

and we shall all die a painful death.

Which is better: to be the King or die?

You have a point there!

You never liked my father.

You were never kind to him

or shared your bed with him. O you!

You never gave yourself to him

and he has always mourned his own distress and poverty and your unkindness.

I shall never be reconciled to you.

What could I have done...

except to turn all the days of my life into night beside him in this dungeon?

And to be a beast of burden such as himself?

Like two mules together turning the millstone.

Don't make me even more regretful for having born you.

I never expected gratitude from you for having brought you to this world.

Enough! Stop it, girl!

Don't speak with me! Don't touch me, you stranger!

It is me, fool! Don't you know me?

I know you well. I know what manner of man you are.

Had there been buyers you would have sold me...

for one smile from this woman.

What can I do, my beloved?

Your sellers are my buyers.

Cut the quarrel short!

While here we scuffle,

outside they raise our graves stone upon stone

and make my gibbet steady. So, be silent!

Why should I not weep...

since my poor father perished before my very eyes?

O mother's darling do not make my heart bleed!

Why does she think me dead?

Have I ever lived in your eyes?

Ah, what am I saying?

I was born in this crypt.

I was already a dead man stepping into a cold grave.

And now, before seeing the light of the world,

I'm passing from one death to another.

Father, why did you not take me with you?

She truly believes him to be the miller!

It seems so.

And that's not a bad thing.

Her madness leads to profit...

while wisdom brings nothing but loss.

Ah, my daughter!

Misfortune has crushed her so and she no longer knows who she is.

God knows how long she'll thus continue

and do as she does.

Did you hear their words?

No, Commander, I only peeped through the hole in the door.

Before he died, that wretched little Arab...

as a result of what he said made us think of gathering an army...

as quickly as we could.

The Arabs have pushed directly eastwards so they're getting further away from here.

Further away?

Yes, and this stands to reason and tallies with the forecasts of war experts.

Getting further away. What glad tidings!

So fortune smiles on us.

Indeed, it would've been great news if the King were still alive.

Did the meeting of your minds bear any fruit?

We only watered the tree.

A ripe fruit, which should be picked. Be quicker!

It's not easy.

O priest, I must break an oath.

Is this admissible?

There's only one way and that's the path of truth.

The girl was right.

The miller sleeps here.

What did you say?

Consolidate everything you say with a deadly oath!

I swear by the lives of all priests!

So, this dead man is the miller.

And who is this man?

The King.

- Did you hear? - Unbelievable!

Yes, noble knights and Commanders.

The miller died his own death.

And this living standing man here is the King...

who wanted to be lost to himself.

So, he put on these clothes.

Is this not a dream come true?

Why did you not say this at first?

I had sworn to hide his secret.

And he was testing us, all of us. Do you hear?

I hope I haven't used any strong words.

I am indeed fortunate to have passed this test with honour.

O, King!

Look at your sword of justice becoming blunt now!

The death of the miller shall pass without punishment.

O yes, look at your justice!

What is the King's command?

Get out of my way!

Leave me to my solitude

and never say you've seen me!

Has the King no more wishes?

He won't accept his own kingship.

I didn't want to have brave knights around me.

I thought we'd soon be talked about everywhere...

and that wouldn't pass without harm.

I thought I should get away and cast no shadows.

So I thought it best to be taken for dead.

And I put on these clothes.

These are wise words.

What pain does the King suffer!

Our backs be bent before you, o King!

If you're the King,

speak my name!

Why should the King know the names of his servants?

That's a kindly answer!

But there should be a witness.

Is there no one among the military who's seen the King?

Are you testing the King?

Ay, now that this man's face is cleared of dust...

perhaps some can distinguish in him truth from falsehood.

If you spare me I shall confess my unforgivable sin.

Ay, I once stealthily looked at the shining face of the King...

but from far away.

He was in hunting grounds surrounded by the falconers...

when my eyes caught his sight, only for a short moment.

And I don't truly know if that was the true face of the King

or whether he had put on a false face;

A bow in one hand and a cup in the other.

But these are useless signs...

for I've heard that in order not to be recognised,

the King has put his hair and beard in the hands of hairdressers.

How then could he be recognised?

Indeed he couldn't.

The King had the scent of cardamoms and rose-water.

And here there's only the smell of must and dampness.

But I know a way.

O man, put on the King's crown and wear his robe!

Here!

No, this is not him.

With this crown and robe I swear...

he's far more magnificent than our King!

Another test!

Walk!

Laugh!

Turn around!

Close your eyes!

Gloat!

Shout!

Cry out!

Whisper!

Open your arms!

Put your hands to your sides!

Cross your hands!

Cannot be told.

But these are not the hands of a King.

Hands so rough and worked...

callous and crusty.

Are they not?

By heavens they are.

The war-battered hands of a warlike, club-wielding King...

that have pulled many a bow string thrown many a javelin...

shot many an arrow wielded many a sword and ripped many a chain mail.

I don't recall the name of the best of the King's horses.

Shabrang!

- And the best bird? - Shabâviz!

- And the best woman? - Shabâhang!

If you're the King then tell us the number of chambers in Ctesiphon palace!

The Dark Chamber for rebels,

the Ruby Chamber for women,

and the Chrysoline Chamber for musicians.

Any other question?

He knows. He knows!

Give us another sign!

The Negârestân Carpet...

with one 1,111 jewels.

He knows! Do you hear?

The exact number of the King's wives is my exclusive knowledge.

If you're the King, tell it!

Two hundred and ten.

Astonishing! These are all correct.

How do you know all this?

You told me, don't you remember, King?

I did not.

You told me...

the number of corridors,

jewels,

and bed chambers.

Who else could have told me?

He!

When he drove me into the rain.

He told you, the King!

You're the King!

No, he's not me.

I am I, myself, the miller.

I am a man without wealth or fortune

and I have my hands in blood up to my elbow.

Say he told you all this!

Indeed, he did.

Indeed, he did.

Separate them!

What is the matter?

The matter?

I saw it with my own eyes...

I, whom they took for nobody.

Speak!

He wanted to seduce my mother.

That's not true.

Your wife!

Do not slander our King!

He waylaid you, miller.

- Our King? - Pouring venom!

I don't mind this woman for she's been held in many arms before.

- Coward! - I'm no fool.

- We all have our clients. - Neighbours?

Had I not tried who would've given us bread?

How much harm did you to him!

Did I harm you by saving you from starvation when we had nothing?

What are they saying?

With all this evil talk Ahurâ Mazdâ cannot be here.

It is time for the moon to chance colour

and the sun to show fearsome signs.

There has crown conflict between my knowledge and my faith,

and between wisdom and love. It looks like the end of Ahurâi millennium.

We must send Books of Counsel.

Send Books of Counsel by all means, Mubad...

but let them be accompanied by some bread.

We people have a surfeit of counsel and crave for bread.

I'm not a man of knowledge, Mubad.

You who are, say something.

Yes, protest!

Who could blame me?

For long years I've been waiting for deliverance.

He wanted to seduce my mother.

He whispered in darkness

and there was only the tongue of fire between them.

Where was I?

- In the rain! - Was it not early evening?

When the storm swirled and spiralled and began to roar

and at last ended in blizzard and hailstone.

Yes, even then the King was still trying

to belittle the miller... forcing him to bark like a dog!

Louder!

Give me that gilded crown

and that girdle!

And now tell me, once again who I am!

My Liege, you're the King.

And who are you, beggar's son?

Your humble dog, the miller.

Whom does everything you have come from?

All we have comes from the King.

What are you saying, man? We don't have anything!

Even that comes from the King.

The girl was my kingly portion.

Did you know that?

What happened?

Arrows of misfortune rain from the sky.

I'm the target of them all.

There's no end to them.

With dishevelled hair they're soiled and leather-belted...

with raised banners and black saddles.

Were they so near?

The enemy?

Would that they were far away now!

It seems clear...

that the world does not wish me dead.

So, I'll have to stay alive!

Even rats are running away.

It is cold. What a rain...

Out of the blizzard I seem to hear a thousand dirges.

Perhaps they shall return.

Fetch some fire!

Where's the firewood?

I looked at the sky.

It is raining fast.

Like an inverted sea.

- What's this? - A sword.

For your breast!

You did not kill me miller.

You were more frightened than I had thought.

You did not even have the guts...

to bring down the stick you had raised.

I'm a harmless man.

It is cold.

What makes you shriek?

You!

You, man!

You, kind-hearted man...

who broke your stick on your knee when you should've cracked his skull.

Must we sit now and watch the ruffians come

and sweep away your household and disgrace you?

I am a hospitable man.

You didn't kill the man who held the key to our fortune.

Don't look at me so with bleeding eyes!

Was it not you who fell on his feet like a dog?

What is this secret parley?

He's a harmless man.

That is well, my good man.

You know that one is rewarded with gold

and punished with sword.

I'm cold to my bones. Fetch some firewood.

Fire...

and something to eat. A sheep.

Which sheep? There's famin among people.

Many have starved to death.

If only my horse had not run away...

We would've eaten it together!

- Are you making yourself equal to a king? - You made yourself equal to a beggar.

Go to the village.

Peddlers or hucksters or anyone...

who might have a sheep,

must know that it belongs to the King.

Use force!

Steal!

You all belong to the race of robbers.

It is cold. Do not send me away in this blizzard!

Take a lamp.

- And do not come back without victual! - The village is miles away.

Better if you find the roast. Did you hear?

Bring me a roast for dinner or a sheep!

It is late. I'll get lost.

It's dark and windy and there's lashing rain.

What about the King's command?

Humbly I go this minute.

Why?

No beast would venture into the desert...

in this black rainy night.

I've become suspicious of you, man.

My heart has turned against you.

You're not foolishly contemplating to go and reveal the King's secret, are you?

I had no such intention.

You know my whereabouts.

And there are those who'd give you gold for a sign of me.

You put this thought into my head, King!

Then, I shall keep your wife and daughter...

as hostages here

and I hold a naked sword in my hand.

When that idea crosses your mind,

remember this!

No bandit has ever treated us so.

Do you put kings on the same footing as bandits?

Unlike kings bandits show mercy to the poor.

I should go.

Is it not time for me to be delivered from this woman?

From me?

Wherever in the world you may be having lost your heart you shall return to me.

Have we not been through this many times before?

I went.

Under a dark and fearsome rain...

in which the desert could not be told from the night.

And the universe seemed like a turbulent sea...

a whore of a sea with its whirlpools.

There my mill appeared as an inverted ship.

I went. Far away.

Looking for a few pieces of firewood and a sheep for food.

But my thoughts were all here wondering what the King was up to.

Why must I die?

Why should I entrust myself to the frozen land of death?

The Arabs have lost track of me in the storm,

and I have shaved my chin and head

and gone into disguise,

hoping that I shall not be recognised.

One can run away

and live contentedly for years and years.

It would've been better if they thought me dead,

and stopped looking for me.

I wish I could find lifeless body

and clothe it with my clothes.

Ah, all is well...

except for this woman and her daughter,

who've been through the whole story

and can tell it to others.

The girl is witless,

and that leaves the woman.

He was with me.

The King and I, alone.

The miller's wife who has always had to put up...

with the scowls of hard-headed, hard-hearted ruffians.

The King is looking at me...

from beyond this fire.

What's on his mind?

Hum, this an idea.

Could she be trapped?

Fear has conquered me...

is my heart a dove?

The miller's wife has a fine body.

She has suffered and starved.

I shall make her look op to me.

I shall seduce her.

What do you want, King?

Could she be tamed with a bait?

Woman!

How is your husband?

He loves me.

- And you? - I?

Do I reveal anything?

Have I said anything to make you ask so direct a question?

I pity him.

He should not have gone. What am I doing?

What's happening to him?

Why do you tremble?

Why do you moan?

He's suffered much and I too.

I too!

O woman, you've made me desperate.

- No. - Come nearer woman!

You make my heart flutter.

You frighten me.

- Death to you, woman! - Why?

What pleasure did I ever have with you?

I was young when I stepped into this darkness my companion,

a stone placed beside another stone.

O father, why did they kill you?

No, dear girl. You were telling the King's story.

Mother, forgive me. I despise you.

I despise you!

That was a beautiful slap you gave to the King...

when he first opened his heart to you.

Stop! Don't torment me, my girl. You love me. Don't!

This miller is nothing.

If you despise him a little if you look for happiness be with me!

Yes, he said that and my heart fluttered.

Say more, o King!

I've taken a liking to you, miller's wife.

Your body is firm. It's the warmest thing...

that could be found in this rainstorm.

- I have taken to you! - Is that true? Would anyone take my hand?

- You shall be delivered. - From the whirlpool!

And I shall press you in my arms.

You pressed my daughter in your arms.

That wasn't for love. It was out of weariness.

You know well that this girl is not worthy of me.

All that was nothing but a bluff.

I sought your loathing, yours and the miller's,

and I wanted you to kill me with your own hands -

you and the miller.

May my hand be cut!

The likes of me die and the basest animals live.

- You shall not die! - What?

How can I be freed from my husband?

And I'm looking for a corpse a carcass in King's clothes.

How can I find this?

This is a fearsome thought.

Everyone will take it to be the King's body.

What end more glorious than that...

for your husband?

No one is guiltless.

You and I shall sit on one saddle

and my treasure shall suffice us forever.

- Shall I be free? - What do you say?

- You're younger. - And more comely.

I used to sit on Tâqdis, the Arched Throne

and walk on the Negârestân Carpet...

with 1,111 jewels

while my two hundred and ten wives followed me.

In the Ctesiphon Palace?

33 corridors in our palace...

All led to my terrace...

surrounded by seven chambers.

Dark Chamber for rebels,

Ruby Chamber for the women,

Chrysolite Chamber for musicians,

and other chambers. - Ah, you idiot!

- So you were listening to all that! - And more.

I'm from earth and water and you from air and fire.

For me there's no escape from you. No escape!

Don't torment me!

Your eyes are burning forests

and the storm is raging in your limbs.

Moan quietly, woman!

Quiet!

So you heard everything!

O miller's wife, the miller is nothing.

You close your eyes and we shall kill him...

and wrap him in my regal garments and run away.

Everyone will think that the dead man is me.

The girl. What about the girl?

That foolish slave-girl?

She has no wits!

If she stays alive,

the enemy's army shall pass over her body.

Kill her!

This is a better fate for her.

Kill her!

My father comes.

From the heart of darkness and storm...

he comes puzzled.

Kill him!

O shameless creature!

Die!

Yes, he attacked me.

Your King. With drawn sword. Like a wild beast.

He was a bold warrior and his Kâboli sword was peerless.

Like death he descended upon me and I killed him.

Was that not suicide?

Where is salvation?

The gallows is ready. The grave is dug.

The mortar is beside the gallows and the oven is blazing.

O woman!

O my daughter!

Come nearer!

You victims of my poverty!

Now I part with my twin mate:

Misery.

From what I've heard the advancing enemy,

the Arabs,

are more like me than these commanders.

And if I had bread and dates,

I'd give it to them.

Break the gallows and put out the oven!

My verdict changes.

Mine too.

And also mine.

The legend stays as it is. Put this dead body on the gallows!

The King?

Without delay. This is the miller.

Let me know when this evil deed is done.

O priest, should you not sing a hymn?

Let us go. History is written by the victors.

What're you gazing at?

I shall throw away this commander's uniform.

This is a hopeless war.

From him we have inherited a world we cannot defend.

What are you gazing at?

O man, look!

Through the same threshold...

where you witnessed the entrance of the King in rags, look!

In his footsteps I behold the Arab army.

We were all death's prey and did not know it.

Judgement is not passed yet.

Look at the principle judges who're just arriving.

A sea of an army!

They neither greet not take leave...

neither ask questions nor listen to answers...

they speak the language of the sword.

We're trapped.

The Arabs!

Draw your swords! Raise your spears!

Javelins! Drums!

Useless words!

Pray to death who is standing at the door!

Numberless like sands of the desert flying around in storm...

and blinding the eyes of the world!

Ay, the principle judges are coming now.

Flying your white banner, you have passed your judgement.

Let us now await the verdict of the Black Banners.

Susan Taslimi.........The Miller's Wife

Mehdi Hashemi...............The Miller

Yasaman Arami....The Miller's Daughter

Amin Tarokh..............The Commander

Mahmoud Behrouzian....The Mubad/Priest

Karim Akbari............The Army Chief

Ali Reza Khamseh...........The Soldier

Produced and directed by Bahram Beizai

Translation: Manuchehr Anvar Subtitles: TITRA-Laser, Vienna

OCR'd & sync'd by MehrAzar @ PTP KG