Scene 2
Adham-Uti, Vurko, Zeneli

Vurko (in a huff): Zeneli, has Skëndo Bey arrived yet?
Zeneli: No, Vurko, and I don’t think he is coming at all. Wait for a moment though in case there is any work for you.
Vurko (sitting down): I’ll wait until he comes.
Adham-Uti (pompously): I shall wait a little longer too, although I really have much work to be done!
Vurko (whispering into Zeneli’s ear): Who is he?
Zeneli (in a loud voice): What? You don’t recognize him? This gentleman is DOCTOR A-DHAM U-TI from Frashëri, the famed village Naim Bey comes from, and...
Adham-Uti (interrupting him): Naim Frashëri is not from my village at all. Don’t talk nonsense!
Zeneli (with a smirk): Oh, I am so sorry, milord, but... (bowing his head) I am so dreadfully sorry, Dr Adham-Uti!
Vurko (snickering): Crocodile tears, Zeneli? What kind of name is that anyway?
Adham-Uti (scowling): You do not seem to like it.
Vurko (gently): On the contrary, milord, it would seem to be a splendid name. Adham comes from the biblical Adam, our forefather, and Uti must be related somehow to Odysseus of Homeric fame...
Zeneli (surprised): Oh, you have an education after all. Silly me, I thought his name was just Albanian... The doctor is a gentleman of the Christian faith, if I am not mistaken. Who knows when we will begin to say our prayers to Saint Adham-Uti, ‘forever and ever, amen’!
Adham-Uti (solemnly) However my name may sound to you (glaring at Vurko), I have always lived up to it!
Zeneli (looking at Vurko): Oh, yes, I see. The gentleman is a famed healer!
Adham-Uti: And a writer and a poet to boot!
Vurko (sitting down): How admirable of you, Doctor Adham-Uti. It is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And a great honour, too, believe me! My name is Vurko. I am a correspondent of the newspaper ‘Lightningg.’
Adham-Uti: Oh, a reporter, are you?
Vurko: Tell me, sir, what do the great figures of the nation have to say about the Albanian question nowadays. I would like to publish a report on the issue in our newspaper.
Adham-Uti: You mean you want me to give you an interview?
Vurko: Yes, sir, something I can publish in ‘Lightningg.’
Adham-Uti: Stop pronouncing it ‘Lightningg,’ it is ‘Lightning.’ Lightningg, lightning, singingg, singing. I shall have to inform Skëndo Bey about your bad pronunciation. The language you people use nowadays is not Albanian at all. Our poor language has fallen into bad hands indeed. And the alphabet you use is quite unacceptable!
Vurko (dumbfounded): I don’t understand! It is the alphabet decided upon at the Congress of Monastir.
Adham-Uti (furiously): Congress of Monastir? What Congress of Monastir? Who even attended it? Was I there?
Vurko (with a smile): Why did you not attend, sir?
Adham-Uti: Hah! First you call me ‘Doctor Efendi’ and now I am only a ‘sir’ because I told you the truth. I am telling you things the way they are. And you dare to ask me for an interview! No, no, no! I am not in the habit of giving interviews to newspapers such as yours.
Vurko: I never imagined... I did not think for a moment that you would be opposed to newspapers!
Adham-Uti: Well, now you know, and can tell the whole world with a bolt of your ‘Lightning,’ if there actually are people who read such a rag! These are my final words on the matter!
Vurko: And quite a surprise they are!
Adham-Uti (in a fit): What do you mean, a surprise? That’s it! I have had it. Who the devil do you think you are, young man? Listen to me! What would I possibly have to gain by your writing an article about me: "Doctor Adham-Uti, the famed healer, author of innumerable scholarly works, discoverer of a new tonic for fever and yet another tonic, even more amazing and more desperately needed for sterility among women, is on the verge of publishing a new and definitive alphabet for the Albanian language, involving totally new letters. He has worked for ten years and three months to perfect this alphabet." What is it to me? I do not seek praise from anyone! And if I did, I would well receive it for revealing to you what I have come to discuss with Skëndo Bey here today... to show him this alphabet and find out whether the Young Turks would like it or not, whether they would give it their approval to be used in schools throughout Albania, whether they would be willing to purchase it from me, and whether I can expect any support from the government in Istanbul for this great service I have rendered to the nation. Skëndo Bey asked me bring the alphabet to the club today so that he and Miss Lulushe, who is a school mistress for girls, could have a look at it. If they agree to it, they will want to introduce it into the girls’ school to start with and then to submit it to the Young Turks who, for their part, will certainly take great delight in it and wish to compensate me for my troubles and perhaps even send for me to become a Member of Parliament in Istanbul!...
Vurko: But why do you want to introduce the alphabet into the girls’ school only?
Zeneli: Yes, why indeed?
Adham-Uti (arrogantly): Don’t you understand at all?
Vurko: No, I swear I don’t.
Zeneli (triumphantly): I know! Because girls are women, and therefore...
Adham-Uti: Therefore what?... Keep going!
Zeneli: Well, they are cleverer than the boys and will be better at learning the alphabet. Am I right? Is that why?
Vurko: It is as logical as two times two is four.
Adham-Uti (emphatically): You fool! The real reason is that girls turn into women... and men do what women tell them to do...I have written a whole book on this subject.
Vurko: Then, the decision on the alphabet would be entirely in the hands of Miss Lulushe, wouldn’t it?
Adham-Uti: And in the hands of Skëndo Bey because he has good relations with the Young Turks, some very close friends.
Vurko (amazed): Friends indeed!
Adham-Uti: That, I tell you, is why I am not talking to anyone else and certainly not to your rag of a newspaper!
Vurko: Nor to the ‘National Unity,’ nor to "The Sun" either?
Adham-Uti: No!
Vurko: Nor to the ‘Lightning,’ nor to ‘The Staff’?
Adham-Uti: Not at all!... Good Lord, why do you keep on about it? You’ll get nothing out of me. I do not seek the admiration and praises of anyone. No matter what they tell you, healers such as I are a rare breed. I can heal eyes, ears, noses, hands and legs. There is not an disease I cannot conquer. You may say that I do not have many ‘clients.’ Let them stay away. Let them languish in their illnesses. Whose fault will it be if they do?
Vurko: But why do you want to sell your alphabet to the Young Turks? Why don’t you give it to Albania for free?
Adham-Uti: For free? What an insane idea! I have been working on that alphabet for ten years now, day and night! And I should give it away? To whom? To the Albanians who have never even heard of me? Think of all the Albanians who have striven for years to create an alphabet and have not come up with a thing. I alone have found the solution, and I’m keeping it in my pocket. Miss Lulushe, if she has a brain in her head at all, will be amazed when I show it to her. She will be overwhelmed!
Vurko: I imagine she will be quite startled! Is she coming today, too?
Adham-Uti: Indeed she is. Skëndo Bey gave me his word.
Vurko: Do you know Miss Lulushe?
Adham-Uti: Of course I know her. Her mother had a fever last year. But the tonic I discovered, as I told you, is a wondrous drug. Anyone can be cured, unless he dies in his sleep first without making an effort, without giving it a fair try. And so, when Lulushe’s mother took it...
Vurko and Zeneli (together): She was cured!
Adha-Uti: No, she died. She died in her sleep, as I told you!
Zeneli: What a wondrous drug! One times one...
Adham-Uti (turning to Vurko): Such are my deeds, gentlemen. I have no need of your praises. Words are ephemeral. Deeds, gentlemen, deeds! What ever comes of newspapers? Nothing, so don’t waste your time. You’ll never get a word out of me!
Vurko (with a slight grin): What you have told me is quite sufficient, milord. I bid you good day. Farewell, Doctor Efendi! (he departs in a rush).
Adham-Uti (angrily): Damn. He got me talking after all! I didn’t even want to give him an interview. Oh, if I ever get my hands on that fellow...