Anonymous

Turkish Literature; Comprising Fables, Belles-lettres, and Sacred Traditions


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toward Hadji-Ghafour.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. I am delighted to find, Aga-Kerim, that you have not forgotten the claims of friendship, and that in the present emergency you have remembered the sister of an old friend.

      Aga-Kerim. Ah yes, madame, friendship is a valuable thing in these days. I have seen how things stood, for this Aga-Merdan is a rogue and a scheming rascal whose equal is to be found neither in earth nor in heaven. I therefore decided to come, and in a friendly spirit to warn you beforehand of their intrigues, for if they are permitted to carry them out, there will be no cure for the consequences.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. But, Aga-Kerim, what can Aga-Merdan do against me?

      Aga-Kerim. What can he do? I am told that he is the advocate of your sister-in-law, and intends to sue you at law in her name. He is very clever and resourceful in affairs of this sort; you would be no match for him. It is very difficult to get ahead of him.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. What can he do in this lawsuit? My brother has no child to inherit his fortune. On the other hand, a woman who has been no more than temporary wife can make no claim to the heritage. However clever Aga-Merdan, or anyone else, may be, what injury can they do me in a case which is so clear?

      Aga-Kerim. You have had very little experience in affairs of this sort. Aga-Merdan will find means to accomplish his ends. You must not let him take you at a disadvantage in the struggle.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. But how can we help being taken at a disadvantage?

      Aga-Kerim. Well, tell me in the first place who your advocate is, so that I may see him, and make him acquainted with some of the tricks of Aga-Merdan. If he is intelligent he won’t let himself be caught napping.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. We do not know whom to take for our advocate.

      Aga-Kerim. How is that? You don’t know whom to take, and have not appointed anyone to defend you in this case?

      Sekiné-Khanoun. No, we do not know whom to choose; we are just on the point of considering the question.

      Aziz-Bey. Could not you, Aga-Kerim, name someone to whom we could intrust our case?

      Aga-Kerim. No, I know no one who would be able to hold his own against Aga-Merdan. I thought you had your advocate already on hand.

      Aziz-Bey. No, we have not appointed anyone. We were merely on the lookout for a man of great ability whom we could intrust with the defence of our interests. But think again; cudgel your brains. Have you no idea of anyone?

      Aga-Kerim. No, I can think of no man who is of great ability. There are plenty of advocates, but there is none of them who could cope with Aga-Merdan. But stay; there is someone, if he would consent to be your advocate, for he has retired for some time from business of the kind. He alone would be able to hold his own with Aga-Merdan.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. Who is he?

      Aga-Kerim. He is Aga-Selman, the son of the sieve-maker. Intrust your case with him if he will undertake it.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. Who would be able to see him and speak to him about it?

      Aga-Kerim. It is not necessary to delegate anyone to see him. Send for him, and speak to him yourself here. Perhaps your arguments may persuade him to accept the case; the discourse of a woman has so much influence.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. Aga-Kerim, could you not see him yourself, and send him to us?

      Aga-Kerim. No, madame. I have fallen out with him about a trifling matter. Send somebody else to fetch him.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. But how can you in this case give him certain information which you wish him to have?

      Aga-Kerim. If you had another advocate, I should deem it necessary to instruct him in these matters; but in the case of Aga-Selman it is superfluous. He is clever enough to make slippers for the devil himself. Although I have quarrelled with him, I cannot deny his merit. God grant that your lawsuit may succeed.

      Aziz-Bey. I shall go and fetch him myself. [Aziz-Bey and Aga-Kerim rise from their seats and prepare to go out.]

      Aga-Kerim. God preserve you, madame.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. Thanks for your kind visit.

      Aga-Kerim. I shall never forget your goodness. [Aga-Kerim goes out with Aziz-Bey.]

      Scene XIV

      Sekiné-Khanoun. Goul-Sebah! bring in a lounge, and lay a cushion on it. [Scarcely has Goul-Sebah brought in the lounge and placed a cushion on it, when a sound of footsteps is heard in the vestibule. Aziz-Bey enters the room with Aga-Selman. Sekiné-Khanoun takes a seat at the back of the stage; Goul-Sebah stands by her side.]

      Scene XV

      Aga-Selman. Good-day, madame!

      Sekiné-Khanoun. Good-day, sir. You are welcome, Aga-Selman, and your visit gratifies me exceedingly. Have the goodness to take a seat. [She points with her finger to the lounge. Aga-Selman seats himself at the foot of the lounge and Aziz-Bey takes a place by his side.]

      Sekiné-Khanoun [in a melancholy voice]. Aga-Selman, I am the sister of Hadji-Ghafour. I hope that you will treat me as your daughter, and will not refuse me your support in this day of misfortune.

      Aga-Selman. Speak, madame, tell me what is your desire?

      Sekiné-Khanoun. You know, Aga-Selman, that seven or eight months ago everyone forsook the city and fled in every direction because of the cholera. Hadji-Ghafour was a man full of confidence in God; he declared he would not leave, but as a precaution he took to the President of the Tribunal and placed on deposit with him, in exchange for vouchers, and in the presence of witnesses, a sum of 60,000 tomans, laid up in strong-boxes. “If I should happen to die,” he said, “you must give this money to my legal heir.” The President of the Tribunal took charge of the money, and then, like everybody else, he quitted the city. All our neighbors also left. No one was at home but my brother and I, with a woman whom he had espoused in temporary marriage. It happened that my brother fell sick. No one was left in the town but some soldiers whom the government had left to guard the houses of the inhabitants, and to carry the dead to the cemetery. On that day four soldiers came to our house, and my brother said to them: “I am dying, and I have no other heir in the world but my sister here. After my death take me away to the cemetery.” Then my brother departed to the other world. Meanwhile my sister-in-law, who is no more than a mistress to whom no legacy can fall, pretends to be the heiress of my brother, and institutes a suit against me. Her advocate is Aga-Merdan, the son of the confectioner, and I hope that you will be willing to undertake the task of defending me.

      Aga-Selman. Madame, I have retired from practice, and do not intend henceforth to be anyone’s advocate.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. This business will not take long, Aga-Selman; it will soon be finished; it is matter for a single session. If witnesses are required to testify to the words of my brother, there are the soldiers—you can summon them as witnesses. I hope that you will undertake my case out of mere good-will toward me.

      Aga-Selman. Do you know the names and addresses of these soldiers?

      Sekiné-Khanoun. Yes. Aziz-Bey will write the information on a sheet of paper and will hand it to you.

      Aga-Selman. Since you depend upon me, I accept the case; but on condition that it is not to turn out a long one, for if it is likely to last for any period, it will not be possible for me to devote myself to it.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. It is matter for a single day, and in recompense for your trouble I will give you a fee of 500 tomans.

      Aga-Selman. That is scarcely necessary, madame. I engage in this business purely out of regard for you, and without motives of self-interest.

      Sekiné-Khanoun. I know it, Aga-Selman, but I offer you this sum as pocket-money for your children.

      Aga-Selman. Allow me