Often, because the vacationer meditates beside it, or the artist, seated close to the mouldering wall which separates it from the highway, transfers its noble proportions to his canvass or his sketch-book, the cheerful voices of girls come on his ear from the latticed easement of the dwelling by which it’s instantly ignored: nor can he fail to really feel that he’s himself the topic of their innocent mirth; his overseas and tasteless garb, liis unturbaned head, his beardless chin even the very nature of his occupation, is meals for laughter and for jest; whereas the understanding of a gift to outdated Akif, which is rarely refused by those that go to his basic backyard, provides, in no inconsiderable diploma, to the gratification of his harem, when the apparition of a wandering giaour comes to alleviate the tedium of their existence.
Method of Akif
Outdated Akif himself can also be a worthy topic for the easel of the artist; he appears to have grown gray with the column, and to have withered with the olive-tree. The improvements of late years have wrought no reform within the garb or method of Akif; he appears like an Asiatic Turk who had by no means gazed on the glories of the “ Golden Metropolis.” His turban is giant and loosely folded; his tchalvar are of the widest dimensions; his open sleeves of the extremest size ; his waist- scarf is freighted with an ample tobacco-purse; and he leans upon his chibouque with an air of sturdy and majestic independence finely demonstrative of his proud and self-centered disposition.
He does the honours of the monument like one who’s acutely aware that he’s conferring a favour. He neither murmurs on the heartless haste, nor on the tedious delay of his guests; and he in the end receives the gratuity of his departing visitors with all of the quiet and unmoved composure of a creditor tendering his hand for the fee of a well-won debt. The venerable Akif isn’t any antiquarian in spirit; to him stones are stones, and inscriptions which don’t deal with of the Koran a mere waste of phrases; and because the smoke from his chibouque curls slowly over his lengthy white beard, many a thought in all probability passes via his placid mind, not altogether flattering to the earnest Frank who scrambles in regards to the destroy, in search of for traces of a time and other people now handed away for ever.
That shine beneath, whereas darkish above The unhappy however residing cypress glooms And withers not, although department and leaf Are stamp’d with an everlasting grief, Like early unrequited love.”