He made as if he poured out wine, and drank first himself, and then pouring out for my brother, presented him the glass, saying, “Drink my health, and let us know if you think this wine good.”  My brother made as if he took the glass, and looked as if the colour was good, and put it to his nose to try the flavour:  he then made a low salute to the Barmecide, to signify that he took the liberty to drink his health, and lastly he appeared to drink with all the signs of a man that drinks with pleasure:  “My lord,” said he, “this is very excellent wine, but I think it is not strong enough.”  “If you would have stronger,” answered the Barmecide, “you need only speak, for I have several sorts in my cellar.  Try how you like this.”  Upon which he made as if he poured out another glass for himself, and one for my brother; and did this so often, that Schacabac, feigning to be intoxicated with the wine, and acting a drunken man, lifted up his hand, and gave the Barmecide such a box on the ear as made him fall down.  He was going to give him another blow, but the Barmecide holding up his hand to ward it off, cried, “Are you mad?” Then my brother, making as if he had come to himself again, said, “My lord, you have been so good as to admit your slave into your house, and give him a treat; you should have been satisfied with making me eat, and not have obliged me to drink wine; for I told you beforehand, that it might occasion me to fail in my respect for you.  I am very sorry for it, and beg you a thousand pardons.”

Scarcely had he finished these words, when the Barmecide, instead of being in a passion, fell a laughing with all his might.  “I have been long,” said he, “seeking a man of your character.”

The Barmecide caressed Schacabac mightily, and told him, “I not only forgive the blow you have given me, but I desire henceforward we should be friends, and that you take my house for your home:  you have had the complaisance to accommodate yourself to my humour, and the patience to keep the jest up to the last; we will now eat in good earnest.”  When he had finished these words, he clapped his hands, and commanded his servants, who then appeared, to cover the table; which was speedily done, and my brother was treated with all those dishes in reality, which he ate of before in fancy.  At last they cleared the table, and brought in the wine, and at the same time a number of handsome slaves, richly appareled, came and sung some agreeable airs to their musical instruments.  In a word, Schacabac had all the reason in the world to be satisfied with the Barmecide’s civility and bounty; for he treated him as his familiar friend, and ordered him a suit from his wardrobe.