The caliph was not to be diverted from his purpose by this rude behaviour.  He well knew the law Abou Hassan had imposed on himself, never to have commerce again with a stranger he had once entertained; but pretended to be ignorant of it.  “I cannot believe,” said he, “but you must know me again; it is not possible that you should have forgotten me in so short a time.  Certainly some misfortune has befallen you, which inspires you with this aversion for me.  However, you ought to remember, that I shewed my gratitude by my good wishes, and that I offered you my interest, which is not to be slighted, in an affair which you had much at heart.”

“I do not know,” replied Abou Hassan, “what your interest may be, and I have no desire to make use of it:  but I am sensible the utmost of your good wishes ended in making me mad.  In God’s name, I say once more, go your way, and trouble me no more.”

“Ah! brother Abou Hassan,” replied the caliph, embracing him, “I do not intend to part with you thus, since I have had the good fortune to meet with you a second time; you must exercise the same hospitality towards me again that you shewed me a month ago, when I had the honour to drink with you.”

“I have protested against this,” said Abou Hassan, “and have so much power over myself, as to decline receiving a second time as my guest, a man like you who carries misfortunes with him.  You know the proverb, ‘Take up your drum and begone.’  Make the application to yourself.  How often must I repeat my refusal.  God be with you!  You have been the cause of my sufferings, and I will not trust myself with you again.”  “My good friend Abou Hassan,” said the caliph, embracing him, “you treat me in a way I little expected.  I beg of you not to speak to me thus harshly, but be persuaded of my friendship.  Do me the favour to tell me what has happened to you; for I assure you I wished you well, and still do so; and would be glad of an opportunity to make you any amends for the trouble I have caused you, if it has been really my fault.”  Abou Hassan yielded to the solicitations of the caliph.  “Your incredulity and importunity,” said he, “have tired my patience; and what I am going to relate will shew you that I do not accuse you wrongfully.”

The caliph seated himself by Abou Hassan, while he told him all that had happened to him, from his waking in the palace to his waking again in his own house, all which he described as a mere dream, and recounted all the circumstances, which the caliph knew as well as himself, and which renewed his pleasure.  He enlarged afterwards on the impression which the dream of being caliph and commander of the faithful had made upon him, which, he said, threw him into such extravagancies, that his neighbours were obliged to carry him to a mad-house, where he was treated in a manner which he deemed most barbarous and inhuman.  “But,” said he, “what will surprise you, and what you little think of, is, that it was