As soon as they were gone, Noor ad Deen, little suspecting the resolution they had formed never to see him again, went directly to the fair Persian’s apartment; to whom he related all the steward had told him, and seemed extremely concerned at the ill state of his affairs.  “Sir,” said the fair Persian, “allow me to say, you would never take my advice, but always managed your concerns after your own way, and now you see the fatal consequences.  I find I was not mistaken, when I presaged to what a miserable condition you would bring yourself at last:  but what afflicts me the more is, that at present you do not see the worst of your misfortunes.  Whenever I presumed freely to remonstrate with you, ‘Let us be merry,’ you replied, ‘and improve the time that Fortune offers us; perhaps she will not always be so prodigal of her favours:’  but was I to blame in telling you, that we are ourselves the makers of our own fortunes by a prudent management of them?  You would not hearken to me; and I was forced, however reluctantly, to let you go on.”

“I must own,” replied Noor ad Deen, “I was extremely in the wrong in not following the advice which with such admirable prudence you gave me.  It is true, I have spent my estate; but do you not consider, it is among a chosen set of friends, whom I have long known, and who, I am persuaded, have more generosity and gratitude than to abandon me in distress?” “Sir,” replied the fair Persian, “if you have nothing but the gratitude of your friends to depend on, your case is desperate; for, believe me, that hope is ill-grounded, and you will tell me so yourself in time.”

To this Noor ad Deen replied, “Charming Persian, I have a better opinion of my friends’ generosity:  to-morrow I design to visit them all, before the usual time of their coming hither; and you shall see me return with a round sum that they will assist me with.  I am resolved to alter my way of living, and, with the money they lend me, to set up in some business.”

Next morning, Noor ad Deen visited his ten friends, who lived in the same street.  He knocked at the first door, where one of the richest of them resided.  A slave came to the door:  but before he would open it, asked who was there.  “Tell your master,” said he to the slave, “it is Noor ad Deen, the late vizier Khacan’s son.”  The slave opened the door, and shewed him into a hall, where he left him, in order to inform his master, who was in an inner room, that Noor ad Deen was come to wait on him, “Noor ad Deen!” cried he, in a disdainful tone, loud enough for him to hear:  “go tell him I am not at home; and whenever he may come again, be sure you give him the same answer.”  The slave returned, and told Noor ad Deen he thought his master was within, but was mistaken.

Noor ad Deen came away in the greatest confusion.  “Ah! base, ungrateful wretch!” cried he, “to treat me so to-day after the vows and protestations of friendship that he made me yesterday.”  He went to another door, but that friend ordered his slave also to say he was gone out.  He had the same answer at the third; and, in short, all the rest denied themselves, though every one was at home.