Scene 6
Zeneli, then Miss Lulushe

Zeneli (to himself): Adham-Uti will be delighted. When people see things in print, they always believe them, like angels in the Koran. (Miss Lulushe enters saying): Hello, Zeneli.
Zeneli: How are you? My boss hasn’t come back yet, but make yourself comfortable because he should be here soon. While you are waiting, have a look at the newspapers and articles on the table. I’ll clean up the office in the meantime.
Miss Lulushe (Looking at the newspapers, she spots the article about Haxhi Aliu and cries out): Why, Haxhi Aliu has died! That poor Member of Parliament. I feel so sorry for him.
Zeneli: Don’t feel too sorry for him, Miss Lulushe, there is still hope.
Miss Lulushe: Hope? Are the healers going to bring him back to life again?
Zeneli: If only they could.
Miss Lulushe: Well, what do you mean then?
Zeneli: Haxhi Aliu hasn’t exactly died yet.
Miss Lulushe: May the Lord protect him. How am I then to understand what you are saying? If he has not died, why then have you written his obituary?
Zeneli: Because he is at death’s door and we have to prepare the obituary so that we are not caught empty-handed when he does die.
Miss Lulushe: And what happens if he survives?
Zeneli: We store the obituary with the others and it gets published when the time comes. You must realize, Miss, that we have obituaries prepared in advance for all figures of importance, men and women alike, for kings and queens, Members of Parliament, because you never can tell when they’re going to kick... the bucket.
Miss Lulushe (indignant): A fine custom indeed.
Zeneli: We are not doing anything wrong. We let them die whenever they want. We just have to be ready to find the right words of praise in time for their... departure.
Miss Lulushe: Say whatever you want, but I would not be very amused to find out that someone was writing my obituary while I was still alive and... kicking, as you say.
Zeneli: Oh, I cannot imagine for a moment that my boss would have neglected to write an obituary about such a fine lady as yourself!
Miss Lulushe: He has written about me too?
Zeneli: I have no doubt about it. You are a person of some significance.
Miss Lulushe (to herself): I wonder what he could have written about me? Something good, or something bad? What will he possibly have to say about me when I die? (To Zeneli): Zeneli, do you really think he’s already written a text about me?
Zeneli: I quite sure of it, and I should know, because I work for him.
Miss Lulushe: Listen then!
Zeneli: I am listening, Miss. What would you like?
Miss Lulushe: Could you show it to me?
Zeneli (pretending not to understand): Show you what?
Miss Lulushe: The obituary.
Zeneli (shaking his head): I’m afraid not.
Miss Lulushe: Why not?
Zeneli: Because you would be quite insulted!
Miss Lulushe: Please, Zeneli, do it for me.
Zeneli: Ask me for something else, anything else, but not that! My boss would throw me out of the club. No, never!
Miss Lulushe: How can I get my hands on it?... I just want to read it and then I’ll put it back where I found it. For your assistance, I would be willing to give you five silver coins.
Zeneli: Five silver coins, you say? That is quite a different matter then. I think it might be arranged.
Miss Lulushe: I’m so grateful. I must be off now, the carriage is waiting for me. I have to visit a friend of mine who is ill. You try to find it in the meanwhile. Don’t lose time. Thank you so much, Zeneli! (she departs)