The young ladies of the palace now prostrated themselves with their faces to the ground before Abou Hassan, and those who had instruments of music in their hands wished him a good morrow, by a concert of soft flutes, hautboys, theorboes, and other harmonious instruments, with which he was enchanted, and in such an ecstacy, that he knew not whether he was himself; but reverting to his first idea, he still doubted whether what he saw and heard was a dream or reality.  He clapped his hands before his eyes, and lowering his head, said to himself, “What means all this?  Where am I? and to whom does this palace belong?  What can these eunuchs, handsome well-dressed officers, beautiful ladies, and musicians mean:  How is it possible for me to distinguish whether I am in my right senses or in a dream?”

When he took his hands from his eyes, opened them, and lifted up his head, the sun shone full in at the chamber window; and at that instant Mesrour, the chief of the eunuchs, came in, prostrated himself before Abou Hassan, and said, “Commander of the faithful, your majesty will excuse me for representing to you, that you used not to rise so late, and that the time of prayer is over.  If your majesty has not had a bad night, it is time to ascend your throne and hold a council as usual; all your generals, governors, and other great officers of state, wait your presence in the council-hall.”

At this discourse, Abou Hassan was persuaded that he was neither asleep nor in a dream; but at the same time was not less embarrassed and confused under his uncertainty what steps to take:  at last, looking earnestly at Mesrour, he said to him in a serious tone, “Whom is it you speak to, and call the commander of the faithful?  I do not know you, and you must mistake me for somebody else.”

Any person but Mesrour would have been puzzled at these questions of Abou Hassan; but he had been so well instructed by the caliph, that he played his part admirably.  “My imperial lord and master,” said he, “your majesty only speaks thus to try me.  Is not your majesty the commander of the faithful, monarch of the world from east to west, and vicar on earth to the prophet sent of God?  Mesrour, your poor slave, has not forgotten you, after so many years that he has had the honour and happiness to serve and pay his respects to your majesty.  He would think himself the most unhappy of men, if he has incurred your displeasure, and begs of you most humbly to remove his fears; but had rather suppose that you have been disturbed by some troublesome dream.”

Abou Hassan burst out laughing at these words, and fell backwards upon the bolster, which pleased the caliph so much that he would have laughed as loud himself, if he had not been afraid of putting a stop too soon to the pleasant scene he had promised himself.