s as
before, "I really am not losing time, and I do full justice to the
repast."

"How do you like this bread?" asked the Barmecide. "I find it
particularly good myself."

"Oh, my lord," answered my brother, who beheld neither meat nor bread,
"never have I tasted anything so delicious."

"Eat as much as you want," said the Barmecide. "I bought the woman who
makes it for five hundred pieces of gold, so that I might never be
without it."

After ordering a variety of dishes (which never came) to be placed on
the table, and discussing the merits of each one, the Barmecide
declared that having dined so well, they would now proceed to take
their wine. To this my brother at first objected, declaring that it
was forbidden; but on the Barmecide insisting that it was out of the
question that he should drink by himself, he consented to take a
little. The Barmecide, however, pretended to fill their glasses so
often, that my brother feigned that the wine had gone into his head,
and struck the Barmecide such a blow on the head, that he fell to the
ground. Indeed, he raised his hand to strike him a second time, when
the Barmecide cried out that he was mad, upon which my brother
controlled himself, and apologised and protested that it was all the
fault of the wine he had drunk. At this the Barmecide, instead of
being angry, began to laugh, and embraced him heartily. "I have long
been seeking," he exclaimed, "a man of your description, and henceforth
my house shall be yours. You have had the good grace to fall in with
my humour, and to pretend to eat and to drink when nothing was there.
Now you shall be rewarded by a really good supper."

Then he clapped his hands, and all the dishes were brought that they
had tasted in imagination before and during the repast, slaves sang and
played on various instruments. All the while Schacabac was treated by
the Barmecide as a familiar friend, and dressed in a garment out of his
own wardrobe.

Twenty years passed by, and my brother was still living with the
Barmecide, looking after his house, and managing his affairs. At the
end of that time his generous benefactor died without heirs, so all his
possessions went to the prince. They even despoiled my brother of
those that rightly belonged to him, and he, now as poor as he had ever
been in his life, decided to cast in his lot with a caravan of pilgrims
who were on their way to Mecca. Unluckily, the caravan was attacked
and pillage