not be said,” replied the Barmecide, “that I will abandon you, nor will I have you leave me.”  “Sir,” replied my brother, “I swear to you I have not eaten one bit to-day.”  “Is it true,” demanded the Barmecide, “that you are fasting till now?  Alas, poor man! he is ready to die for hunger.  Ho, boy,” cried he, with a loud voice, “bring a basin and water presently, that we may wash our hands.”  Though no boy appeared, and my brother saw neither water nor basin, the Barmecide fell to rubbing his hands as if one had poured water upon them, and bade my brother come and wash with him.  Schacabac judged by this, that the Barmecide lord loved to be merry, and he himself understanding raillery, and knowing that the poor must be complaisant to the rich, if they would have any thing from them, came forward and did as he was required.

“Come on,” said the Barmecide, “bring us something to eat, and do not let us wait.”  When he had spoken, though nothing appeared, he began to cut as if something had been brought him upon a plate, and putting his hand to his mouth began to chew, and said to my brother, “Come, friend, eat as freely as if you were at home; come, eat; you said you were like to die of hunger, but you eat as if you had no appetite.”  “Pardon me, my lord,” said Schacabac, who perfectly imitated what he did, “you see I lose no time, and that I play my part well enough.”  “How like you this bread,” said the Barmecide; “do not you find it very good?” “O! my lord,” replied my brother, who saw neither bread nor meat, “I have never eaten anything so white and so fine.”  “Eat your belly-full,” said the Barmecide; “I assure you the woman who bakes me this good bread cost me five hundred pieces of gold to purchase her.”

The Barmecide, after having boasted so much of his bread, which my brother ate only in idea, cried, “Boy, bring us another dish:”  and though no boy appeared, “Come, my good friend,” continued he, “taste this new dish; and tell me if ever you ate better mutton and barley-broth than this.”  “It is admirably good,” replied my brother, “and therefore you see I eat heartily.”  “You oblige me highly,” resumed the Barmecide; “I conjure you then, by the satisfaction I have to see you eat so heartily, that you eat all up, since you like it so well.”  A little while after he called for a goose and sweet sauce, made up of vinegar, honey, dry raisins, grey peas, and dry figs, which were brought just in the same manner as the others had.  “The goose is very fat,” said the Barmecide, “eat only a leg and a wing; we must save our stomachs, for we have abundance of other dishes to come.”  He actually called for several others, of which my brother, who was ready to die of hunger, pretended to eat; but what he boasted of more than all the rest was a lamb fed with pistachio nuts, which he ordered to be brought up in the same manner.  “Here is a dish,” said the Barmecide “that you will see at nobody’s table but my own; I would have you eat your belly-full