De dief (1974) - full transcript

Twenty-four hundred years ago,
when the Greek writer Herodotus lived,

the world already looked like this.

But he didn't know that.

The world he knew,
did not go much further

than a few countries
around the Mediterranean.

The cradle of our civilization,
as we learned later.

But Herodotus didn't know that either.

He did know that nothing is as
inconstant as societies on earth.

That people who are able
to form a civilization,

are always able to destroy
that civilization again.

Egypt, for example.
3000 years before Herodotus



a civilization had already developed
as a gift of the Nile

which seemed to have eternal life.

The land fertile, the soil rich,
the people patiently and cheerful

in the certain knowledge that
their souls and their bodies

could continue to live beyond death.

Raised above them, the Pharaoh.

Son of a god, therefore divine himself.

Hence the pyramids,
the temples and the royal tombs,

where one day his mummy
was to be preserved forever.

A seemingly imperishable society,
but still of people.

People who centuries ago too
were honest or deceitful,

power hungry, gentle,
jealous, scared, or stupid.

Or clever, as this man from
the people of Thebes, 1500 BCE.

Soon his father will die, and
the circumstances will then make him



the most feared Egyptian ever at
the court of the great divine pharaoh.

I thought you were allowed
to kiss my feet?

My turn was yesterday, pharaoh.

Is there a difference between
today and yesterday,

between yesterday and tomorrow,
are not all days the same in my kingdom?

Are they not all full
of glory and happiness?

Yes pharaoh.

Inappropriate humility then.

The wearer of the crocodile head is no
longer the wearer of the crocodile head.

THE THIEF

After Herodotus' Histories
Book II, 121

Hey! Your father is dying!
You need to go home!

He is dying! But we have nothing!

How can we have him embalmed?
We need white linen.

We need to bring him across
the river, but we have nothing!

He does not even have
a grave on the other side.

We write the year
seven of my kingdom.

I'm so exhausted by the benefactions
that I am preparing for my people,

that the gods in solar orbit do not
understand how Pharaoh still endures,

and what do I have around me?

Drawings of my tomb,
my temple, my eternal home.

Because this is my grave.
Yes.

Don't nod yes.
Is this my tomb?

Am I holding stone in my hand, gold?

Is this space?

Can a god sleep in it?

Papyrus!

Rightly you throw away
the paper, pharaoh.

Paper is a dream.

Thousands stands ready
to build reality.

Expeditions from Nubia are underway
with granite and alabaster.

Your builders are ready
and wait for your approval.

Before your empire has reached
its eighth year,

your temple will have arisen
on the other side of the river.

- So fast?
- Faster, if needs be.

You expect that I will die soon then.

We lack insight into the plans

of you and your divine
brothers and sisters.

Priest talk! Always know everything,
until it comes down to it,

and then suddenly pious
and stupid, but in a hurry!

The certainty that your temple has
been built, will give you the strength

to remain on this side of life
to stay with us infinitely long.

I should think not.

Explain to me the drawings,
and meanwhile amuse me.

I want to talk... alone...
with my sons.

I built the wall for Pharaoh.

The wall of his treasury.

What wall?

The wall to the morning sun.

What are you telling us?

The treasures, many.

You can go inside.

How?
Where?

Take one hand of silver.

One hand is enough...
for my dead body.

But how?

One hand of silver, no more.

Promise me that it won't be more.

But how do we get in?

Promise it. No more than one hand.

We promise. Only for the embalming.

Listen, the wall to the east, right?

But where? Is there a way? A tunnel?

A stone.

Yes. Walls and corridors, I get the idea.

Every brick maker can think
of a house for eternity.

But is it written what I have to bring
in my grave? Is everything in it?

There are three rooms,
pharaoh, three rooms for...

What? Where is the clerk
of the inventory?

Come, let's see, is it written
what I need to bring?

How can I talk about my grave
between these women's bodies?

Everything is written down, pharaoh.

- Is everything in it?
- Everything, pharaoh.

- My throne?
- Your throne.

- My beds? Pottery?
- Your beds. All the pottery.

- The women I've loved?
- Statues have been made

of all women whom you could
long for in the beyond.

And how are they dressed?

In the garment of the great
queens, some naked.

And if the soil needs to be tilled
in the fields of Yalu?

There are dozens of images
of farmhands and labourers.

If you wish hundreds,
hundreds will be made.

And my excrements?

There is a golden bucket
for your immortal relief.

Walls, huh? Hallways, huh? Samples, huh?
But is my the temple protected?

Your temple will lie hidden in
the sand cliffs on the other side.

Hidden, while everyone can
see where you are building.

Twelve fake doors deceive the unfortunate,

who would want to assault your grave.

So he takes the thirteenth door.

A maze leads to your tomb,

and the entrance to the tomb
is closed by a granite block.

Your body will be safe,
your mummy inviolable.

Priests, architects, clerks!

Have you ever seen the tomb
of the god Cheops? Looted.

The tomb of the god Chephren?
Looted.

Djoser?
Looted.

What happened to their mummy, where
is their soul that seeks the body?

Have you protected it with
your giant granite blocks,

you giant fake doors,
you giant mazes?

The gods themselves will want
to watch over your tomb ...

Soothe me not,
I do not wish be soothed.

Rather have the tongue cut of
everyone who is building there,

and let my grave be guarded
until the fiftieth generation

by blind soldiers, for they hear
the footsteps of the beetle in the sand.

Why is there no more dancing?

Let us live! Wine, wine!

Wine!

What happens if Amun-Ra
calls me to him at this time

and strikes me with death?

How will he find my priests
in the moment of truth?

Do they mutter prayers of the dead?

Do they say the incomprehensible
route of the underworld?

Are they overcome with grief?

Are their tears in their eyes?

Do they think of the heart
of their pharaoh,

as it will soon be weighed
against the feather of the dog god

while the destroyer is watching?

I don't think so!

The priests drank wine, and rejoiced

at the sight of dancing women,

while their pharaoh died in
a cloud of troubles and concerns...

Pharaoh lives.

His benevolence is so immense that
he will not abandon us here alone.

Pharaoh dies.

The funeral ship is adrift below the Nile.

Pharaoh doesn't know the way,
because his priests have neglected

to teach him the map of the other world.

Your priests are ready
to teach you everything.

We pretend I'm dead before it is too late.

Open my mouth, that I breathe forever.

Open my eye, that I see forever.

Now, that's enough.

Why always this talk about death,
am I alive or aren't I?

You have always lived,
you will live forever.

Exactly, and remember that.

I praise your sketches, builders,
my imagination was lacking.

Will it be the most brilliant
temple for all eternity?

Let's see, my tomb will be
80 fingers long and wide.

Cool as the night.

Texts are chiselled which tell of my
actions and sing of my benevolence.

Is there enough space?

There is enough space, if not you
can put some of the exterior walls.

Imagine my emotion, I approve it,
I approve everything.

Priests, priests, I approve everything!

My children!
- Your children, Pharaoh?

Yes, did you not hear me,
shouldn't my children see it.

- All your children?
- All my children.

The priests gather the children of Pharaoh.

And they forget the one.

And who is the one?

Who is the only one?

You, of course, you.

Come and see the sketches of my temple.

I don't want to approve them without you.

Those over there can only
watch while you see them.

- They can go.
- They can go.

There's too much light.

The moon is on the opposite side.
The wall is in the shade, come.

I really do not understand
why you would like

to rule this country, it is all trouble.

And what else couldn't you be?

The big sister of Pharaoh,
the great daughter of Pharaoh,

the great mother of Pharaoh.

The great bed mate of Pharaoh.

Anything is better than Pharaoh
himself. It is an ongoing concern.

It is my concern.

And then wars, what to do as a girl
alone in all those tiresome campaigns?

Are campaigns required?

For months in the scorching heat
between rough soldiers

and fight and fight.

- You've never fought.
- Oh no, and the Nubians then?

That was Ramses, two generations back.

Well, I mean the Asians.

That was the big Tutmoses.

Well so what,
you're pharaoh, you're god.

But why don't you marry?
You have enough brothers.

Do I need a man to be a goddess?

You need a man to stay Pharaoh.

A bald priest maybe, who is forging
plans behind his Ibis head

to seize power?
- For instance.

It would mean a lot to me if someone
kept him in his bedroom at night.

- Afraid?
- No, I'm not afraid.

I'm tired.

Tired of paying attention,
of vigilance, of listening.

What does that priest say to the gods
in the temple of Tah in the morning?

What assignments does he give on
the tour of the lands of Amon-Ra?

How much grain does he list
for the barns of the palace?

You have to keep up with it all.

- Have him checked.
- By who?

By people who also need to be checked,

and then officials
for auditing the auditors

of the auditors,
and so on and on and on...

And you end with Pharaoh himself.

No, daughter.

Our divine ancestors already
knew, power is a pyramid.

Power is what others fear.

Power is what others want.

- It's too little.
- It is enough.

Have you seen what was in there?

It was too dark to see.
This is enough.

We promised that it wouldn't be more.

He cemented that stone that way,
he wouldn't have done that for nothing.

I don't care. We promised something,

to take no more than is
needed to embalm his body.

- Free?
- No, his body must live.

The gods must recognize him.
- They all I want that.

Only it is costly.
- We have enough.

Enough for what?
You don't look very rich.

- He has saved.
- No doubt.

They all save.
Only they die prematurely.

- How much do you need?
- Let's see what you got.

What do you want for that?
Palm Wine? Myrrh?

Should I save his heart
for that? save his kidneys?

For this I can just wash his gut, just!

Do you want to get rich from what
a poor old man managed to save

in his lifetime?
- Don't get excited, man.

Did the old man ever
do wrong in his life?

Probably not, or he
would have more left.

And the gods know that too,

they turn a blind eye when
they see a wretch approaching.

But a first rate mummy,
now that arouses suspicion.

I will wash his gut,
and because it is you,

I leave him in lye for thirty days.

- We want more.
- More?

Then you will have to bring me more.
- How much more?

If you want to have his gut
washed, and his heart saved,

and his kidneys, and skin
cared for, twice as much.

- Agreed.
- But fast.

- When?
- Within 14 days.

There is still no drinking water
in the gold mines of Nubia.

The workers cannot work.

Or refuse to work?

There is no question of refusal.

- Are they wrong?
- judges Pharaoh.

Pharaoh ruled that
the organization fails,

that wasn't done what
could have been done,

that you are responsible,
therefore you're wrong.

Water is needed.

A prince of Judah offers
his sister to Pharaoh.

- Old?
- Young.

- How young?
- 12 years.

We accept this gift in gratitude.

Land is donated to the temple
of Tanis for 12,000 cubits square.

Did I think of that?

Have it checked if I thought of that.

Sixty gold bracelets have
arrived, a gift from Babylon.

Ah, they registered?

- Yes.
- I want to see them.

- Do you want to inspect all treasures?
- Are the lists at hand?

- I can send for the officers.
- Send for them, this bores me.

That is not possible.

They are empty.

What is that continuous mumbling.

- There's something wrong.
- What is it?

- Two urns are empty.
- Here is the list.

These urns.

How can that be? How can that be?
- They're empty!

What are you doing, what are you doing?

Pharaoh...

Incomprehensible!

It is incomprehensible,
but according to the list...

Turn everything upside down,
they cannot be gone!

- Everything, everything, everything.
- Everything upside down.

These are beautiful.
Here, take it, have one.

I cannot take it, I do not deserve it.

How I dislike humble people.

Here, go on, take it, take it.

- Pharaoh's too good.
- I am, yes.

Get everything upside down,
they cannot be gone!

- Everything!
- Impossible, it is incomprehensible!

It is incomprehensible, but they are empty.

What's all that, what's happening
there? What's there ...?

They're ... they're checking something.

What are they trying to check then?

What's this?

What, what, what is going on here?

Two urns are empty.

Two little urns.

- That is not possible!
- Of course that's impossible!

- That's what I said.
- But they are empty.

- But they were on the list.
- But now... they are empty.

Then, then Pharaoh was robbed.

Pharaoh was robbed!

The silver is gone!

That was intended for
the tomb of Pharaoh!

How should pharaoh die now?

Destitute?

Embalmed as a farmer with
ramanaswater in his belly?

And I can come to Osiris
in the hall of the 42 gods,

and Osiris will ask me:
Who are you?

I am Pharaoh, Osiris,
the wearer of the double crown.

Ah yes, I can see that.

No, alas, divine brother,
you cannot see that.

I stand here as a penniless farmer.

Because on Earth from the
treasury of my palace in Thebes

my silver was stolen from me.

Hello hello, and who did it?

I do not know, Osiris, so strike me dead.

What? Have pharaohs nowadays no
faithful servants to watch out?

Slackers, Osiris, slackers,
that's what they are.

It's good you should
hear that for once.

Faithful servants!

You give them bracelets from Babylon,

you give them 1200 cubits
of land from Tanis!

You fight the Nubians for
them, you conquer Asia!

And what do you get in return?

Theft, betrayal, infidelity!

Save your words.

Do you want even more land for your
temples? Do you want to comfort me?

I will not listen.
I want the thief!

I want the thief within 30 days

or else the divine falcon will
peck your eyes on the 31st day.

Go!

Two urns.

Do you think it is too little?

It's not much, and you
still have something left.

It's not about much, or
little, it is about theft.

Who steals two urns of silver?

Should I know? I have hundreds
of soldiers, they should say.

The doors were not destroyed,
the seals were unbroken.

No trace was left.
- And?

You have to be smart
to still get inside there.

Who can do that,
is after more than two urns.

He will come back, and no soldiers are
needed to make him walk into a trap.

We should not have gone.

We have no more time. It has to be now.

Otherwise, go home. I'll do it alone.

What is it?

I'm trapped!

- It's not working.
- It's a trap.

I can't stay here.

If they find me, they'll find you too.

If they find you alive.

That's what I meant.

Even if they find you dead,
they will recognize you.

And come after me.

Is it my fault that we have no choice?

I told you last time,
it's not enough.

But you wanted to leave, you didn't
dare take whatever you could grab.

Say something!

Do we have a choice!

What are you doing?

They can't recognize you.

Admit that I have no choice.

And, and, and?

I hesitate to speak, pharaoh.

We know that Osiris,
who was the god of all light,

was slain by his brother,
the ruler of the night.

He was horribly maimed.

His head was cut off.

His sisters went out and
gathered the scattered limbs.

When the body was recovered,
Isis took the form of a bird.

She landed on the dead Osiris,
and conceived the god Horus,

who would avenge his father.

Are you saying that this is a god?

It could be a sign from the gods.

What sign, why, what for?

Perhaps the prayers teach us,
or a sign from the heavens.

Pharaoh is robbed and you are praying,

and prying at the stars,
while nothing happens!

Out of love and respect for you,
Pharaoh, I implore you to be careful.

There might be a God who would punish me?

Who wants to warn us.

It is a man.

His body is beautiful.

There should be a woman
who recognizes it.

Perhaps more than one.

...if you recognize the body,
falsehood will be punished.

Look and feel if you recognize the
body, falsehood will be punished.

Look and feel if you recognize the
body, falsehood will be punished.

Look and feel if you recognize the
body, falsehood will be punished.

Look and feel if you recognize the
body, falsehood will be punished.

Look and feel of your recognize...

- A God.
- Is a God not a man?

And if that priest is right ...

Then he asks treasures
to propitiate the gods,

12,000 cubits here, 12,000 cubits there,
double the 12,000 cubits and triple it.

- Should I refuse that?
- It's a man.

He was not alone.
He walked into the trap,

and they cut off his head
for fear that he would talk.

People are bad!

They have the peace and prosperity
of this empire, and they stay bad.

Am I failing?

How perfect should I overn my
country to make the people good?

They stay bad.

I know what you're here to say,
you want to treasure

to appease the gods, new treasures, yes?

12,000 cubits, double, triple?

Very well, I offer everything you propose.

But I say something else.

The divine falcon will eat

your eyes and intestines
if the thief is found.

There must be a woman.

Somewhere in Thebes, there must be a woman
who recognizes the body if she sees it.

They're taking his father across
the river, and he is not there.

You're last seen him.

Am I responsible for
what my brother does?

You were away together during
the night. What has happened?

No women's work.

I saw bags and cloth at your bed.

You wanted your husband's body embalmed.

That it would be preserved.
It has happened.

Egypt faces a mystery.

The greatest of the empire
are together in fear and doubt,

tripping over their own feet,

kneel before stone cats
and cluck like chickens.

But there is no mystery,
great counsellors of Pharaoh.

There is only a thief.

- Maybe it's a god.
- Can't a thief be a god, priest?

He may have a purpose.

Of course he has a purpose.

Every thief has a purpose.

He wants wealth, and he wants
power over life and death.

Like the gods, like me, like you.

Therefore he is a rival.

Therefore, we must know who he is,

to reconcile him or
to neutralise him.

But who is he?

A sensible question, priest.

Who is he, and where can we find him?

Outside? In the houses of Thebes?

In the desert?
On the temple fields of Tanis?

Among millions of Egyptians?

Or maybe inside, here beside you,
or behind you, or there, in that corner.

Arrest them all!

Maybe someone wants to confess?

Is everyone too cowardly to confess?

They are not cowards,
pharaoh, they are stupid.

More stupid at any rate than the man
who could penetrate your treasury,

who took your silver,
beheaded his companion,

and also made your soldiers drunk
in order to steal the body.

Hundreds of soldiers were sent
out to track down the body.

Your zeal is greater
than your sense, General.

Would you dig up all of Egypt
to find a dead body,

study the stomachs of all
crocodiles swimming in the river,

take all the people of
this great empire captive?

You mock! Mockery can offend the gods.

We are responsible for the divine
Pharaoh and all his subjects.

And for the goods of the divine pharaoh,

for the silver that was stolen
from him to mention just one thing.

I've already told him that the
divine falcon will pick his eyes out.

You are the one that mocks, priest.

You mock the rules of law and order.

You dare accuse a god of theft,

without having the slightest
idea which god that would be.

I defy you to go through that
door, while I count to ten,

and come back with the thief,
before I've reached nine.

You can't.

You have thousands of officials
and thousands of soldiers,

and thousands of priests,
and you cannot do that,

because you lack what
your rival has: Fantasy.

Have you ever thought about him, priest?

I think he is young.

He must be fast and stubborn.

His soul is tough, his body limber.

He is poor, at least poorer than you.

He is ambitious, even
more ambitious than you.

And bold.

Because he is poor, he wants wealth.

Because he's ambitious,
he wants much wealth.

And because he is bold,
he goes to the place

where all the riches of
the world are collected.

Can you imagine him,
advisors of Pharaoh?

I am afraid not.

You will not meet such people
in your temples, or in the harem,

or in your armies that are made
from obedient stone sculptures.

But they are there! They live and
swarm in this nation! He's there.

You cannot imagine that, because
you would not have dared half of it.

He dares, an incredible man, priest.

He pulls a corpse from our eyes. Why?

Because he knows that someone
can come along that shows grief,

and that is a risk he cannot take.

But he also steals the body
because he wants to show

that he's smart, smarter than
the officials of Pharaoh,

smarter than the priests of Pharaoh,
smarter than Pharaoh himself.

He wants to prove that he is
not afraid, that he dares.

A man, priest, your compatriot.

I know what you want to say,
perhaps a god.

And does that make a difference?

You cannot find him if he's a man.

How should you find
him if he were a god?

Do not trouble your brains.

This is too much for a man
who by the accidental grace

of Pharaoh has become priest,

or general, or first officer
of the empire.

This can only be done
by whoever is chosen

with divine breath, by a god on earth.

By me.

Unless somebody else here wants
to take responsibility?

What can you do, you are a woman.

I will give myself as befits a god.

Yourself?

You do what I tell you to.

You have the word spread far and
wide that the daughter of Pharaoh,

the sole heir of Pharaoh, the
new pharaoh, gives her body,

not for gold or silver,

but for who dares to confess
his most wicked deed.

That is a sacrifice, priest.

That should please you.

You have spoken well.
I could have said it myself.

There is no difference between
a pharaoh and his successor.

The greatness of Egypt is
that nothing ever changes.

Did you see his face, that high priest?

But what if you do not find
the thief, if he does not come?

I will find him.

Do you really want to...?

Jealous of the men who come to
confess their wicked deeds to me?

He will come.

He is the only one who dares,
who wants to dare.

You know what they're saying in town.

Old wives' tales.

They're looking for the man who
took away the body of your brother.

Let them look.

- You did it.
- Didn't you want it?

You wanted him buried. It happened.

They say that the daughter of Pharaoh
is entertaining men to sound them out.

What should I do if they
take you from me too?

I won't be taken from you.

- He keeps us waiting, you thief.
- He will come.

I hear the priests whisper and mumble.

They are growing more
confident again every day.

Soon they'll be right, and then what?
- He will come.

And if he doesn't?

He will come.

Boffle, wouldn't you like
to sleep with a princess?

You must first invent a story, no?

Me sleep...

- Want to hear a story?
- To sleep...

Then I'll tell you a story.

Let me, let me, let me, let me sleep,

beheaded, decapitated, beheaded, sleep,
sleep, decapitated, beheaded, sleep!

A simpleton.

- But he cried decapitated, beheaded.
- Yes, he knew something.

You could have tortured him.

If we had ripped his arms and
his legs from his stupid body,

he would not be able to utter
more than sleep and decapitated.

He is smart, your thief.

Yes, very smart, but he has a weakness:
he wants to show it.

He has shown it now.

But his ambition is not yet satisfied.

He wants more, he wants
to dare and come himself.

One day he will come.

After how many hot, dirty men, with bumps,
pustules, and nodules in their eyes?

They're dragged out of your room
like dogs before they can touch you?

And what's wrong with hot men,
even if they are dirty and deformed?

And if he comes, your thief?

I hear lust in your voice.

But he will not touch you either.

Especially not him.

If my thief comes I am here.
I bring the sacrifice.

What are you doing here? Who are you?

No priest who hides
behind an animal mask.

Who are you?

Are you the princess who they say
wants to hear a wicked deed?

I want to know who you are.

I'm the one you're looking for.

They all say that. Tell your story.

How do I know you will fulfil
your promise if I tell my story?

Your doubt the promise of a princess?

How do I know you're a princess?

You will know if you tell me your story.

You know my story, otherwise
you wouldn't want to hear it.

- Who are you?
- Does that matter?

Perhaps a god, perhaps a thief,
I'm the one you're looking for.

I believe it.

- Your hand is cold.
- Yours is trembling.

- You are my prisoner.
- Is this the promise of a princess?

- How do you know I'm a princess?
- I know that you're not.

Instantly, you have to call.
Soldiers will storm the room.

This is him, you say, grab him.

And they drag me out
to cut me into pieces, yes?

I do not know.

That was him, thief! Get him!

What is he mumbling?

There is no trace of the
thief on the east side.

- Let them search on.
- He cannot escape.

I come from the south wall. Nothing.

That is the side where he ran,
are you blind?

Maybe he took a way inside, and
is wandering inside the palace now.

He hasn't got a chance!

Don't listen, speak aloud,
has he been found?

Not yet, but he must be trapped.

No man can escape here.

- No man?
- What do you mean?

You know very well what I mean.

He was seen, she heard his voice,

she touched him, felt his breath.

He had the hand of a dead man.

What is going on here?

Are your agents deficient?

Am I still safe here,
or is magic involved?

Where is he? I demand that he be found.

Pharaoh, I beg you,
let us return to humility,

and appease the gods.

The signs do not deceive.

All guards are dispatched,
they find nothing.

We can send entire armies,
they will find nothing.

What we are looking for,
we can find in the temple.

I beg you to come with us and to
sacrifice what the gods ask of us.

He was seen, he was heard,
he was touched, but he's gone.

Can a person untraceably
ascend into heaven?

Can a man invisibly walk through walls?

We go to the temple.

I am here for he who dares to
confess his most wicked deed.

Your god, does this looks like a god?

Have I priests in my service,
who think a god looks like this?

Are you a god?

- No.
- Be silent.

This is not a god.

And Pharaoh, who built pyramids,

who erected temples in the name
of his divine father Amun-Ra,

who defeated the Nubians,
who conquered Asia for you,

who each year faithfully
lets the Nile overflow its banks

to make the land fertile,
Pharaoh has unmasked the thief,

had him captured, and
brought in to punish him.

And what do we do with him?

Do we hang him outside
for the falcons?

Do we put him cage and all in the
desert until his tongue is dust,

or leopards have eaten
through the bars?

Do we want his blood, his soul,

or do we only want his dead body?

Think of something, priest.

I want to keep him.

Did I not think so, keep him,
what do you want with it?

Kneel, dog, and kiss
the ground before her feet.

He is bad, pharaoh,
but he has sense.

I know bad people in your
palace who are less sensible.

Pharaoh is entitled
to sensible servants.

Remember what happens
to unwise priests.

I wanted to feed you to the falcons
in case the thief was found,

but in my infinite goodness I
have now decided to let you live.

Go after your lower priests
and keep an eye on them.

What do you want from him, after
you curiosity has been satisfied,

and his body starts resembles
the body of all mortals?

I thought you wanted me to keep
a priest in my bedroom?

What does it matter?

You can sleep and marry whomever you want.

Honest fools, royal children,
priests, thieves, they disappear.

We remain.

Egypt remains.