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Updated: July 22, 2025
My brother became the slave of a man who beat him daily, hoping to drive him to offer a ransom, although, as Schacabac pointed out, it was quite useless trouble, as his relations were as poor as himself. At length the Bedouin grew tired of tormenting, and sent him on a camel to the top of a high barren mountain, where he left him to take his chance.
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."
She had so great a custom of toying and jesting with the miserable Schacabac, whenever she saw him, that one day she happened to do it in presence of her husband.
Pardon me, my lord, said Schacabac, who perfectly imitated what he did, you see I lose no time, and that I do my part well enough. How like you this bread? said the Bermecide; do not you find it very good? O, my lord, said, my brother, who neither saw bread nor meat, I never ate any thing so white and so fine.
"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."
My brother was then taken as a slave by one of the Bedouins, who put him under the bastinado for several days, to oblige him to ransom himself. Schacabac protested that it was all in vain. "I am your slave," said he, "you may dispose of me as you please; but I declare to you that I am extremely poor, and not able to redeem myself."
Schacabac made as if he ate it, and said, "My lord, there is no want of musk here." "These lozenges," replied the Barmecide, "are made at my own house, where nothing is wanting to make every article good." He still bade my brother eat, and said to him, "Methinks you do not eat as if you had been so hungry as you complained you were when you came in."
O! it is wonderful! replied Schacabac, for here we taste all at once, amber, cloves, nutmeg, ginger, pepper, and the most odoriferous herbs; and all these tastes are so well mixed, that one does not hinder us from perceiving the other: O how pleasant it is. Honour this ragoo, said the Bermecide, by eating heartily of it, Ho, boy! cried he; bring us a new ragoo.
I have now only to relate the story of my sixth brother, called Schacabac, with the hare lips. At first he was industrious enough to improve the hundred dirhems of silver which fell to his share, and went on very well; but a reverse of fortune brought him to beg his bread, which he did with a great deal of dexterity.
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?"
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