All language subtitles for The.Jewel.in.the.Crown.S01E08.The.Day.of.the.Scorpion.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-MZABI_track3_[eng]

Your sleeper is here,
Miss Layton.

The Pankot train is due to leave
in an hour.

Idhar.

What is that carriage
over there?

Oh, that is private.

It belongs to a Maharajah--
I do not know which.

There are so many.

Thank you.

Idhar thairo.

Count Bronowski?

Sarah Layton.

Oh, Miss Layton.

Forgive me.

Why didn't I
recognize you?

Ah, it's the uniform.

Nawab Sahib and I were
so distressed to hear

of Captain Bingham's death.

It was kind
of you to write.

Have you been
staying in Rampur?

No, not staying.

I've just got in
from Calcutta.

And that train
is going to Pankot?

Yes, at midnight.

I'm going home.

And you are alone?

My dear Miss Layton,
you must join me

in a glass of Champagne.

Oh, well...

No, I am inviting you--
it's an occasion.

On behalf of Nawab Sahib--

who is not here,
by the way--

I invite you to more
compatible surroundings.

We are traveling--
how shall I put it?--

on some private
but official business...

...with young Kasim.

You remember Ahmed?

And someone I think
you haven't met.

Allow me to introduce
Captain Rowan.

Miss Sarah Layton.

Nawab Sahib and I had
the pleasure of her company

at the palace guesthouse
on the occasion

of her sister's marriage.

How do you do?

Please.

Steward, Champagne.

We were going to wait
for Ahmed,

but only as a puritanical
exercise in self-discipline.

Oh, do you smoke?

Thank you.

I myself smoke too many,
but these are mild.

Thank you.

How are your mother and sister?

They're both well,
I hope.

Yes, both well.

And the officer who was best man
at your sister's wedding,

Captain Merrick?

Have you had
news of him?

Actually, it was
to visit him in hospital

that I went to Calcutta.

Really?

Thank you, steward.

But why--
what is wrong?

He was badly wounded
helping Captain Bingham

at the time he was killed.

My sister was anxious
for someone to visit him,

and she couldn't
go herself.

I'm afraid he's lost an arm.

He had physical courage.

One could see that.

But I'm sorry to hear
he was wounded.

Which arm?

The left.

Ah, that is something.

I observed him picking up
some bits of confetti.

He was right-handed.

You may remember the officer

we're speaking of--
Merrick.

No, I don't think so.

He went into the army
from the Indian Police,

and featured in the Manners case
in Mayapore in 1942.

An English girl.

Oh, yes, that case.

In Mirat, I had an interesting
talk with him.

Are those boys
still in prison?

Which boys are those?

The ones he arrested.

I'm afraid I don't know, Count.

I hope they're not forgotten
and just left to rot.

The Indians remember, especially
one who visited Mirat last year.

I'm sure, Count, that
they are not just forgotten.

Oh, forgive me.

It is an uncheerful subject.

And Miss Layton should be
entertained.

Now, you will
join us in a meal?

You have some time yet.

Oh, how very kind.

I was going
to the station restaurant.

Oh, we can do better than that.

And we shall not now
wait for Ahmed.

Who, in any case,
would probably

be interested only
in the Champagne.

But a dear boy.

Oh, he'll be sorry
to have missed you.

He affects not to be susceptible
to the charms of white ladies,

but in your case,

I suspect this is
not wholly true.

You remember how
you rode together

on the waste ground
opposite my house?

Yes.

I'm confessing, aren't I,
that I observed you.

But not intentionally.

After you had gone,

I observed how on many mornings,
he rode there again,

and each time
retraced exactly

the course you
had taken together--

cantering along
the same stretch,

stopping in the same place,
wheeling his horse.

Oh, but don't misinterpret.

Ahmed remains an observer,

detached, because
he doesn't see

where he fits in.

I remember his father once
wrote to him from prison.

You know his father,
ex-Chief Minister Kasim,

is still in prison?

He wrote, "We are looking
for a country, but it is here."

And so am I.

And why shouldn't we
stop squabbling over it

and start living in it?

What does it really matter who
runs it-- Hindu or Muslim,

or whose face is dark
and whose is white?

Yes, what does it matter?

BRONOWSKI:
Good-bye, Miss Layton.

But he'll be sorry
to have missed you.

How self-contained you are.

I don't remember that.

Perhaps Ahmed noticed it.

Something maybe you have
in common-- both wondering

whether you belong,

and to what.

Dear boy...

you look very smart.

What time is it?

It's a little after four.

We're due in Premanagar.

Is Captain Rowan up?

I hope so.

He was woken at
the same time as you.

I have kept watch, indulging
some of my favorite vices--

wakefulness, Pushkin
and an unfinished bottle.

There's a glass for you.

Or would you prefer
something stronger?

Steward!

Bring Kasim Sahib
a large scotch and soda.

Or no soda?

No soda.

Here.

I have a garlic for you.

Chew it before you
reach the circuit house

in case your father
detects the whisky.

But do not get too close
to Captain Rowan.

He would be too polite
to turn his head away.

No doubt His Excellency
interested him

with this business
for his discretion.

But I noticed, though
he feigned indifference,

his interest when
Miss Layton was telling me

how Captain Merrick
had lost an arm.

In due course,
he will inform the Governor.

Bravery in the field
and an amputated arm--

what luck.

Now the arrested boys
may go free.

The files are closed, and Mr.
Merrick's future is assured.

No scandal.

Le diable est mort.

You understand?

No, it's too early
in the morning.

And too late.

We are here.

Courage, mon ami.

Thanks.

They're here, I think.

Don't you wish to speak
to the Divisional Commissioner?

Not just now, unless
it's essential.

Very well.

Ahmed?

Ahmed, is that you?

Yes, Father.

Your mother.

What news of your mother?

She's well.

You'll see her soon.

They let the Mahatma out,
but his poor Kasturba

is dead.

I know.

But it's nothing
like that.

Then God is
good to me.

You are taller.

How long has it been?

Almost three years.

You dwarf me.

You quite dwarf me.

They told me nothing
until 5:00 yesterday.

Am I free, or on my way
to another jail?

You're free.

On what conditions?

To go to our kinsman,
the Nawab Amira.

Mother will join you there.

You will be under
the Nawab's protection.

I see.

I am the only Congressman
to be paroled?

Yes, Father,
as far as I know.

Why?

Because of my brother.

Sayed?

He has died in prison camp?

No, Father,
he was captured.

By the Japanese,
I know.

Recently in Manipur.

Mother had a letter.

Sayed joined the INA.

The INA?

The Indian
National Army.

To fight alongside
the Japanese.

I know what
the initials stand for!

Sayed?

The INA?

No, this is
a ridiculous mistake.

He would not be helping
the Japanese to invade

his own country.

Thousands of Indian
prisoners in Malaya

and Burma did
the same thing.

They felt they had been deserted
by their British officers.

You are speaking up for them?

Calling your brother a traitor?

Am I?

Don't you remember
it was Gandhi

who called on us to
do or die against the British.

The situation is changing.

The young men who
grabbed rifles and marched

may look more heroic than the
old men who went to prison.

He was a King's
Commissioned Officer.

He made a contract.

All of our Muslim law
is based on the sanctity

of contract.

We must suffer,
die for it.

It is in our hearts.

What are you telling me,
that it is not in Sayed's?

That he is an opportunist
without any thought

of his honor
or yours or mine?

Are you telling me
this is the kind

of India I have gone
to prison for?

If you are, you had
better leave me here.

I do not know
that kind of India.

I do not know such men.

Sayed is not my son.

Let me go back to prison.

You can't go back,
Father.

They won't let you.

The plain fact is they're
chucking you out of the Fort.

We shall see.

Let them forcibly
take me to Mirat.

But then let them stop me
from returning to my home,

to Rampur and to politics.

They won't arrest you.

It would suit the British
very well to have you say

what you have just said to me.

They only arrested you last time

because you were loyal
to Congress.

You refused to join
the Muslim League.

But when a man
is suddenly released

from political detention
and there's nothing

to explain it,
his friends will ask why.

There is always the truth.

No, Father, there is
only what can be believed.

Can you still call
Sayed a traitor?

You might as well
write your letter

of resignation
to Congress now

and apply to Jinnah for
membership of the League.

Not that Jinnah would
touch you with a barge pole

if you tried that
line with him.

He will call Sayed
a patriot, too,

if he values his career
as a future minister.

There are hundreds of officers
and thousands of men.

The British can't
hang them all.

Who have you been
talking to?

The Nawab, or that
European pederast

Bronowski?

I've talked to them,
but not about this.

No?

Then you are shrewd.

I underestimated you.

Since one of my sons
turns out to be a traitor,

it is a compensation to realize
that the other one

is not as stupid as I thought.

I am sorry.

You did not deserve this.

Forgive me.

In prison...

you forget that
circumstances change.

Sayed is wrong.

But this time I must be silent.

Thank you for having saved me
from making a useless gesture.

Then you accept the terms?

Shall I tell them
you're ready?

Unfortunately, I have only
one life to live.

And only one notion of what
makes it worth living--

always to speak the truth.

It isn't easy to write
that notion off as a mistake.

I know.

Do you?

You are too young.

It was Sayed, always.

It was Sayed

that I trusted.

And you?

Why are you waiting?

Tell the officers
I'm ready.

Your Congress cap.

They pretend to laugh but
they're afraid of it, really.

If they see it
lying on the table,

they might come
to the wrong conclusion.

No.

Straight and firm.

Like a crown of thorns.

NEWSREEL ANNOUNCER:
The first sight of India
after years of War,

and no words can express
what they felt.

The Commander-in-Chief's
message said what we feel--

"What you've done
will long be remembered."

Let's remember it now.

Eritrea.

Syria.

Tunisia.

Italy.

It's all summed up in the words
"The Famous Fourth."

Eights for the Eighth Army,
another famous number.

And these men helped
to make it so.

Just before they landed,
several awards for gallantry

were announced.

But this was the best reward
of all-- to be home again.

I'm going up
to see Susan now.

Aren't you coming?

You know she won't even
look at the baby.

Frankly, I've had enough.

Tell her I'll
come tonight.

I'll say
you're resting.

It's Room 9.

There's a lovely boy.

Mrs. Bingham,
your sister's here.

Hello, Sue.

Sorry I wasn't
at the time.

Will you see him now?

Is it whole?

Is it?

Why, Mrs. Bingham,
of course it's whole.

He's a lovely boy.

Two of everything-- well,
everything he should have.

And look how well
your sister holds him.

Don't you want to hold him now?

Come on, Sue.

Think how proud
Daddy will be.

He might be home
for Christmas.

That's what
they say now.

How lovely--
anyway, for us.

It's a bit unfair
for him.

He'll want peace and quiet
and all he'll get

is a screaming baby.

He won't mind,
because he's a grandson.

What will you
call him?

I don't know.

The name's so important.

How can I choose that on my own?

Not on your own.

There's me
and Mummy, too.

She's resting now,
but she'll look in soon.

You're not alone.

Thank you, Clarissa.

Oh! Another caseful.

Shoes.

I must confess,
I'm fond of my shoes.

Though I think
there's little left

to bring from
Rose Cottage now.

Is anything wrong,
Clarissa?

The amount of luggage?

It is a bit more
than I thought.

No, Barbara, it's
not the luggage.

Though if there's
anything more

than another caseful to come,
I think you'll have

to ask for storage
at Julal-Ud-Din's.

Oh, but I shouldn't want
my things to molder

in a storehouse.

Arthur and I place
little value on possessions.

Our strength is
in the love of God.

We'll say no more
about the luggage.

There's something
I have to ask.

I was at the Club
this afternoon.

Yes?

Not alone-- with others.

People I respect,
but whom I shall not name.

It was said...

what a pity it was you couldn't
remain at Rose Cottage

for a while to help Mildred
because of Susan and the baby.

I don't think it's a suggestion
that Mildred would approve.

May I ask why?

Yes, Clarissa.

Since I accept your hospitality.

Though as a paying guest,
of course.

Mildred does not approve of me
or what she terms

my interference.

So...

what was said at the Club?

It was accepted that the idea
might be impractical.

But there was something more.

It was suggested
it would be unsuitable.

Especially unsuitable with two
pretty young girls in the house.

But I could not, simply
could not believe...

Well, the moment had gone
before I fully understood

exactly what had been
said, to refute it.

I do not propose, Barbara,
to refer to this again,

inside or outside this house.

But I require... for my own
peace of mind, I require

from you some word.

Some word?

What word, Clarissa?

A word of refutation.

Of assurance that there are
no grounds, no grounds at all,

for such a wicked implication.

I see.

Naturally, you require
to be reassured.

But what can I say?

If it were true,
I should probably deny it.

I've nowhere else to go.

It's a difficult thing for
an elderly spinster to refute.

But for what it's worth,
Clarissa, as far as I know,

my affection
for Sarah and Susan

is not of an unnatural kind.

Unless it is unnatural
to take pleasure

in their company

and to care
what happens to them.

And now I...

I must put these roses
on Mabel's grave.

Such a wicked
thing to say.

Am I expected
tomorrow, as arranged?

Thank you, Clarissa.

(thunder)

Mabel,

how can I face it alone?

And without God?

(sobbing)

Mabel...

I'm going now.

Thank you.

Memsahib!

Memsahib, you want
buy flowers?

Memsahib, you want
buy flowers?

(speaking Urdu)

I take your bag
rickshaw.

Oh, it's Ashok,
isn't it?

Yes, Memsahib.

You carry my parcels
in the bazaar.

Why aren't you
in the bazaar today?

(speaking Urdu)

(speaking Urdu)

The other boys threaten you?

Perhaps they're jealous.

Too many baksheesh for you.

It's empty.

You're not
a Pankot boy.

(speaking Urdu)

I come Rampur.

Ah, a stranger.

An outcast.

Well, that gives us
something in common.

Not many baksheesh
for you in the churchyard.

Simply a place of refuge.

(speaking Urdu)

I go tomorrow.

You go tomorrow?

Ashok,

did you see a lady
come out of the church

just now before me?

A burra mem in a topi?

Well, it doesn't matter.

The important thing is
she seemed to be there.

She appeared to me.

I'm going to sit down here
and take a little breather--

a howa khana.

(speaking Urdu)

Where do you go
tomorrow, Ashok?

I go to Maharajah.

You serve a Maharajah?

Where?

Many, many Maharajahs,
many mahouts.

I go ride elephant
for Maharajah.

Well, there are certainly
no elephants in Pankot.

So you'll have to go
if you want to be a mahout.

If you were an English boy,
you'd want to be

an engine driver.

(speaking Urdu)

If no elephants,
Memsahib.

Do you know what those
flowers here are for?

For Puja.

No, I bring them
for my friend.

I am your friend,
Memsahib.

Yes, I mean
my other friend.

He come
from Pankot?

From Pankot, yes.

He is my friend, too?

She is, yes.

But you won't see her.

Like the friend
who loves us both.

You remember the song
I tried to teach you?

About our friend?

"There's a friend
for little children.

There's a friend for
little children..."

"Above the bright blue sky,
whose love will never die."

Oh, my little
untouchable.

My Harijan, one of
the children of God.

Now, tell me, Ashok,
what am I?

(speaking Urdu)

(speaking Urdu)

No.

I am a servant
of Our Lord Jesus.

He is our mother
and our father.

You don't understand.

It's too long ago and far away.

The world we live in is corrupt.

I offer you my love, and you
take it as fortune smiling.

But your heart is beating
in expectation of rupees.

Mine hardly beats at all.

It's very tired and old
and far from home.

Ashok.

Chalo.

You take my case and find
a rickshaw wallah.

Jaldi.

My little unknown Indian.

Memsahib,

Sarah Mem.

Hello, Barbie.

I must look a... a sight.

I'm clearing up.

Trying to create
some sort of order.

It's quite a task.

Oh, I am sorry.

Is there anything
I can help with?

We'll have some tea.

Unless you're in a hurry?

Oh, I should love some tea.

Aziz has probably
anticipated.

Tea outside.

Have you not, Aziz?

Han, Barbie
Mem, tea.

Thank you, Aziz.

My last day at Rose Cottage.

I shall be out of here
after breakfast tomorrow.

Aziz will be ready to go, too.

He'll wait behind to hand over
the keys to Captain Coley.

Yes, I see.

I'll tell Mother.

Will you pour?

Susan's home again,
with the baby.

She's well?

They both are.

Mother's brought in an ayah
to help look after him.

She's our
houseboy's niece.

Only a child herself.

Her name's Minnie.

Susan's giving the baby
all Teddie's names.

So he'll be Edward
Arthur David Bingham.

And shall you be happy
out here, all of you?

I don't know, Barbie.

I don't know at all.

You wanted once
to get away.

Yes, I did.

Perhaps in a way I have.

What about you?

Oh, I shall
be all right.

I've written
to the Mission.

No doubt they'll have
something for me,

something to do.

Clarissa...

...told me your news
about poor Captain Merrick.

Yes, it's sad.

I forgot to tell you--

he talked a bit
about Miss Crane.

Edwina?

What did he say?

He told me about
going to her bungalow

after her death,

and finding that picture
of Queen Victoria,

the one you have as well.

The Jewel in the Crown.

He seemed to think
in some way

it was to do
with Teddie's death--

the kinship between
sepoys and officers.

He used a phrase:

"I am your mother
and your father."

Ma-bap.

Mother and father.

The relationship
between us and India.

What else?

And death by fire.

The way that
Teddie died,

and the way Miss Crane
killed herself.

Was that to do with Ma-bap, too?

No.

What was it?

Despair.

Yes, that fits.

It reminded me
of something, too--

the scorpion.

The scorpion?

Years ago when Susan and I
were children,

we had another houseboy then.

He was always telling us
stories.

He told us a scorpion
would kill itself

if it was cornered
and there was no way out.

I don't think we really
believed him,

'til one day, Susan and I
were in the garden.

He called us over.

He had a little pot of
something and poured it

in a circle on the ground
and set it alight.

We saw the scorpion strike

and kill itself.

Well, that's how it seemed.

In a ring of fire.

Years later, Auntie Mabel
told me that it wasn't true--

that it's the fire
that kills.

But it always
seemed to me

a brave thing to do
if there was no way out.

I am sorry, Barbie,
about Auntie Mabel--

that I wasn't here.

I don't suppose
you've heard yet.

She remembered you
in her will.

What?

Only a small annuity
to help with the pension.

You'll get a letter
soon from the bank

in Rampur.

Well, she shouldn't have.

Why not?

Well, it's taking it away
from the rest of you.

I didn't expect...

That's very kind.

Very kind.

Oh, Barbie, don't.

And I have no problems.

Except what I think you call
nowadays a problem in logistics.

My little room at Clarissa's,

it has its limitations,
and I have my trunk.

I had thought of leaving it
here in the garden shed

until I could send for it.

But if I were to ask permission
of your mother,

it would certainly
be refused.

Would honor be satisfied,
do you think,

if I were to ask it of you?

I should think so.

It only contains
bits of my past--

my years in India.

My shadow, as you might say.

I'll tell the mali
to keep an eye on it

so there'll be
a minimum of fuss.

And I can come and visit you
at Clarissa's.

It might be better
if you didn't.

My room is very small
for entertaining guests.

And I don't want to push
my luck, as the saying is.

Not for a while, at least.

Not for a while.

(knock at door)

MAN (outside door):
Captain Merrick?

Get out!

God rot this
stinking piece of tin!

Oh, did you ring, sir?

This damn thing doesn't fit.

I told those idiots in Poona.

What the hell
do you want?

Well, I was hoping for a bit
of peace and quiet, sir.

But if this goes on,
I shall ask to be put

back on active service.

Better being raped by
little yellow ones in Burma

than picking bits of glass
out of me perm.

Get out, Dixon.

I'm not amused
by your song and dance act.

I'll get a sweeper.

I said get out!

One ashtray,
officers for the use of.

Sister's not going
to like this at all.

Got a fearful
temper, that one.

Frightens the life
out of us ladies

when she's roused.

If you'll excuse me, sir.

Yes, Corporal?

Maybe you've tried to do
too much, sir,

too soon after.

You ought to get
out of doors.

After all, that's
what they sent you

out to Pankot for, sir--
the fresh air of the hills.

I don't suppose it's
occurred to you, Corporal,

that I might not
choose to exhibit myself

in public yet.

Has such an unlikely
idea occurred to you?

No, sir.

There now.

Almost forgot why I came.

A letter for you,
Captain Merrick.

Been all round
the houses, too.

From Pankot down
to the hospital

in Kal and forwarded all
the way back here again.

Shall I?

Yes, all right.

Oh!

It's from a Corporal.

Corporal S. Somebody.

Could it be Sandra?

Or it could be Sophie,
like me?

Nah.

Some other bird.

Miss Layton.

Get out, Dixon.

Very good, sir.

"Dear Ronald,
excuse the army issue.

"Susan asked me to let you know
that she has a baby son

"and both seem
to be doing well.

"We are not sure when
the christening will be

and Susan has not chosen
his name yet."

Well, I said to Sister,
"Wasn't that careless of me?"

Might've done myself
a serious injury.

Mind you, not so nasty as
my first accident this morning.

You all right, sir?

Yes, of course.

Who do I bump into
but our Senior Surgeon?

Me, with a bedpan
in me hand.

Well, she was drenched!

And me flat on me bum
and all.

"Is that Corporal Dixon?"
she says to Matron.

"Yes," says Matron.

So the surgeon says, "Well,
it was not entirely his fault,

so we won't hold it
against him."

Well, as to that, I think,
chance would be a fine thing.

Are we ready, sir?

Just get on.

You know
the idea, sir.

Toughen up the bits
that aren't too tender.

If yours truly can
avoid the bits that are.

Mind you, it's a lovely stump.

And I've seen one or two, sir.

Someone in Calcutta's
very proud of this.

Or my name's not
Sophie Dixon.

Sorry, sir.

In point of fact,
Corporal Dixon,

I've been finding out
quite a bit about you.

There are some
fearful gossips, sir.

You shouldn't
pay attention.

I've been hearing about
your active service record

in the Arakan.

According to my informant,
you were the one who kept on

joking, risking your neck
to bring in the wounded

under fire.

"They should've given
Sophie Dixon the MM."

It's what
I've been told.

Oh, that would
never do, sir.

And where would
they pin it?

Cheeky things.

So what I'm wondering, Dixon,
is how all this adds up.

Still getting a bit
of pain here, are we, sir?

Pity you're not staying
with us a little longer.

I know a thing or two
about this job.

Very good with
my hands, sir.

Massage, manipulation.

Helps you relax.

So what's the truth, Dixon?

Are you a hero?

Or a bloody pansy?

I don't think,
Captain Merrick,

that's the kind
of question

we ought to ask
ourselves, do you, sir?

I remember what our dear
Winnie Churchill told us.

"Give us the tools," she said,
"and we'll finish the job."

MINISTER:
Almighty God,

who art a strong tower
of defense unto thy servants

against the face of
their enemies, we yield thee

praise and thanksgiving
for our deliverance

from those great and apparent
dangers

wherewith we were encompassed.

And especially today for our
deliverance from the Japanese,

and their expulsion
from the soil of India.

We acknowledge it, thy goodness.

(organ playing)

Aren't we going home?

No, I think we're going
for a drink at the Club.

Well, I don't want
to be too long.

Dicky, have you
got the roses?

I brought them for
Auntie Mabel's grave

because I missed
the funeral.

How very thoughtful.

Who's looking
after little Teddie?

The ayah.

She's quite capable
of seeing the brat

comes to no harm.

Are you coming on
to the Club?

Mmm, Madras curry.

It's Minnie's first time
in charge, so we shan't

stay for lunch.

And I'm calling him
Edward, not Teddie.

I hate diminutives
for men.

Let's take the flowers.

Is Susan all right?

Susan's fine.

Well, I hope
you've all got

your bibs and
tuckers ironed

for the christening
tomorrow.

Well, I've treated
myself to a new dress

but we're not going to
get all starchy about it,

are we?

Far from it.

I'm afraid the party
afterwards will be

very informal.

We're surrounded by packing
cases at the moment.

When do you move
to Rose Cottage?

0900 hours on Tuesday.

Now that woman
is finally out.

I've got it all
worked out.

The little spare will
make an excellent nursery.

Edward's even more effective
than a bugle for getting us out.

All on parade
at 6:00 a.m. prompt,

isn't it, Sue?

Most children
wake at 6:00.

I did.

But then, you're Army.

Yes.

Relax, darling.

You simply must learn
to trust Minnie

and stop thinking
about next feed time.

Are you cold?

No.

I thought you shivered.

I hope you're not
sickening for anything.

No, I'm relaxing.

How has your dog taken
to the baby, Mrs. Layton?

Sometimes they're
jealous.

Oh, Panther's taken
quite a shine to him.

Won't let Kevin
get a ...

Well, that was clumsy of you,
wasn't it?

Bearer!

(speaking Urdu)

Do you want a mop?

You'll have to change
when you get home.

Aren't you madly
uncomfortable?

No, Mother.

Well, go to the cloakroom
and use a towel.

Then you can come back
and have another nimbu.

I don't want another nimbu.

Well,
go and dry off.

Do you want any help?

No, it's all right.

Do you think I ought
to run her home?

My dear boy, finish
your drink in peace.

It's only
a broken glass.

(baby crying softly)

It's all right.

It's all right.

I'm here now.

(speaking Urdu)

We don't want Panther,
silly dog.

Getting fat.

Don't want Minnie, silly girl.

Can't understand.

Do you know what this is?

Auntie Mabel's christening gown.

She gave it to me.

See?

Butterflies caught in a web.

Poor prisoners.

Poor prisoners.

We'll set them free.

(baby crying)

(baby crying)

(screams)

Mahmoud!

Free, little prisoner.

Mahmoud!

Go free.

(baby crying)

Go free.

Mahmoud!

Go free.

Go free.