depose as follows: One evening at sunset a week before the death of Hadji-Ghafour, we were going all four of us to pay a visit to the houses of the dead. In passing before the house of Hadji-Ghafour we saw him standing at his gate and holding in his arms a babe in long clothes. We saluted him, and asked him how his health was? “Whose child is that?” we said to him. “It is my own,” he answered, “he was born three weeks ago. He is my only son; I have no other child.”
The Inspector [turning to the witnesses]. Do you understand, boys?
Hepou. Yes, we understand.
Aga-Merdan. Can you repeat the story as I told it?
Hanife. Undoubtedly so; there are no far-fetched expressions to puzzle us.
Aga-Merdan. Very good, my friends. May God bless you!
Cheida. How in the name of everything, Aga-Merdan, would God bless such a transaction as this?
Aga-Merdan. Why not? My dear friend, if you were acquainted with the whole affair you would certainly say yourself that God would bless it. The unhappy widow of Hadji-Ghafour has been for ten years mistress of his house and fortune. Would it be just that a sickly wench should carry off all this money, and proceed to enjoy it with a base loafer, a heretic, and for the sole reason that the latter is to have criminal relations with her? According to the words of your doctors, the Sunnites are excluded from the court of heaven.
Cheida. Now, by God, but you speak the truth!
The Inspector. Come now, Aga-Merdan, fix the fee to be paid the boys.
Aga-Merdan. What? Has not Aga-Kerim done so? I said that I would give thirty tomans to each of those gentlemen. You know, yourself, what your share is to be.
The Inspector. Yes, but you must advance to the lads the half of their fee.
Aga-Merdan. Most willingly, if you will now retire. Aga-Kerim will bring your fifty tomans for yourself, as well as half of the fee to be paid to each of these young men.
The Inspector. Very good. God protect you. [The Inspector retires with his followers, then the door opens again, and four soldiers enter with Aga-Kerim.]
Scene XII
The Soldiers. Good-day, sir.
Aga-Merdan. Good-day, my lads. Be good enough to take a seat. You are extremely welcome. Excuse the trouble which I have given you.
One of the Soldiers. Don’t mention it, sir; it is ours to be grateful for the honor of entering the house of a man so honorable.
Aga-Merdan. A well-educated man is well received anywhere. Have you lunched?
The Soldiers. No, we arrived before luncheon time.
Aga-Merdan. Aga-Kerim, send someone to the bazaar to purchase for the boys four portions of rice of kebah, likewise of ice and citron cup. See there be an extra supply of kebah, for they are very hungry. You’ll like a great deal, won’t you?
A Soldier. Why take all this trouble, my lord? We will repair ourselves to the bazaar, and eat a bit there.
Aga-Merdan. What trouble is it, my dear friend? It is lunch time, why should you wish to leave my house fasting and famished? Please God, my plan is best.
The Soldier. My lord, what do you desire of us?
Aga-Merdan. Nothing much, my lad; I only wish to ask you a plain question.
The Soldier. Speak, my lord—two if you like.
Aga-Merdan. Did you bear to burial Hadji-Ghafour?
The Soldier. Yes, my lord, it was we who buried him. Why do you ask?
Aga-Merdan. Ah, I congratulate you on your generous conduct. Your company is always a great honor, not only because you are the defenders of Islam, but also because you do good service to all people in their days of distress. While the cholera prevailed there remained scarce a living soul in the town; you alone did not quit it, making in advance the sacrifice of your lives. May the Thrice Holy Majesty of God reward you worthily for this! But did you ever see Hadji-Ghafour when he was alive, my son?
The Soldier. Yes, my lord, we saw him alive.
Aga-Merdan. In that case, you must also at his side have seen his little son in long clothes, who was then a month old.
The Soldier. No, my lord, we never saw him.
Aga-Merdan. Perhaps he was at that moment in his mother’s arms?
The Soldier. No, my lord. We asked Hadji-Ghafour how many children he had, sons or daughters, big or little, and he answered that only a sister would survive him.
Aga-Merdan. That is possible; he did not count his son because the latter was only a baby, one month old. But this babe was then in the arms of his mother; other people have seen him there; and I believe that you have also seen him. There is no harm done; it is all right. But in this case what testimony will you give? For, as you know, there is a lawsuit between the heirs as to the rights of succession.
The Soldier. We will testify of what we have been informed. The advocate of Hadji-Ghafour’s sister has already questioned us on this point, and we have corroborated his account.
Aga-Merdan. Ah, I understand why you speak thus; it is because the discourse of this wretched renegade has produced an impression on your mind. Therefore you deny the existence of the child. He has doubtless promised you for this twenty tomans, and has advanced you ten.
The Soldier. No, my lord, he did not promise us a penny, and even when we asked for a little present he told us that a witness ought to be disinterested, and that we ought to expect our recompense from God alone.
Aga-Merdan. Oh, the accursed rogue! See how mean, grasping, and close he is! He won’t let anyone profit by a penny excepting himself, and while he tries unjustly to obtain evidence in his favor, in a suit for 60,000 tomans, he grudges to spend twenty or thirty tomans on such kind young fellows as you! By God, there is not in the whole world another wretch like him! May God punish him by utter ruin! His work is unjust, and his conduct ignoble, and he himself a skinflint and a robber.
The Soldier. How is his work unjust, my lord?
Aga-Merdan. Because he evidently wishes to deny the existence of the little seven months’ old child of Hadji-Ghafour. He wishes to cast out this child, and deprive him of his patrimony, in order that the sister of Hadji-Ghafour may get it. But God will not favor this action; he will prove that the child is still alive, and that his existence cannot be overlooked. Can such a thing be denied? I am the defender of this poor little orphan. I have sworn to give thirty tomans to whoever will testify in favor of this child, and as I know and believe that you have seen him I have this sum ready here, in cash. But what good is it after all, since you say that you have no recollection of the child? Yet perhaps if you were to see him now, your mind might recall him.—Aga-Kerim, go into the house, take the child from the arms of its mother, Zeineb-Khanoun, and bring him here. [Aga-Kerim soon returns with the little boy, whom he has found in the next room.]
Scene XIII
Aga-Merdan.
