Well, then, my friend, replied the Bermecide, we must drink now, after we have eaten so well.  You drink wine, my lord, replied my brother; but I will, if you please, drink none, because I am forbidden.  You are too scrupulous, replied the Bermecide, do as I do.  I will drink then out of complaisance, said Schacabac; for I see you will have nothing wanting to make your treat noble:  but, since I am not accustomed to drink wine, I am afraid that I shall commit some error in point of breeding, contrary to the respect that is due to you, and therefore I pray you once more to excuse me from drinking any wine; I will be content with water.  No, no, said the Bermecide, you shall drink wine; and at the same time he commanded some to be brought in the same manner as the meat and fruit had been brought before.  He made as if he poured out wine, drank first himself, and then pouring out for my brother, presented him the glass:  Drink my health, said he, and let me 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 if it had a good flavour; he then made a low bow to the Bermecide, to signify that he took the liberty to drink his health, making all the signs of a man who 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, said the Bermecide, 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 to himself, and then to my brother; and did this so often, that Schacabac, feigning to be drunk with the wine, took up his hand, and gave the Bermecide such a box on the ear as made him fall down; he lifted up his hand to give him another blow; but the Bermecide, holding up his hand to ward it off, cried to him, What! 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 great treat; you should have been satisfied in making me eat, and not have obliged me to drink wine; for I told you beforehand that it might occasion me to come short in my respect:  I am very much troubled at it, and beg you a thousand pardons.  He had scarcely finished these words, when the Bermecide, instead of being in a rage, fell a laughing with all his might.  It is a long time, said he, since I wished a man of your character.

The Bermecide caressed Schacabac mightily, and told him, I not only forgive the blow you have given me, but am willing henceforward we should be friends; and that you take my house for your home:  you have been so complaisant as to accommodate yourself to my humour, and have had the patience to bear the jest out 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