The caliph, the more to blind Abou Hassan, said to him, “Place confidence in me; I promise you on my honour I will not break my word.  You need not hesitate to trust a person who wishes you all happiness and prosperity, of which confidence you will see the effects.”  “I desire not that,” said Abou Hassan, stopping him short.  “I yield to your importunity; but I dispense with your good wishes, and beg you in God’s name to form none for me.  All the mischief that has hitherto befallen me arose from those you expressed for me, and from your leaving the door open.”  “Well,” replied the caliph, still laughing at the misguided imagination of Abou Hassan, “since you will have it so, I promise you I will form none.”  “You give me pleasure by speaking so,” said Abou Hassan; “I desire no more; I shall be more than satisfied provided you keep your word, and I shall forgive you all the rest.”

As soon as Abou Hassan entered his house, he called for his mother and for candles, desired his guest to sit down upon a sofa, and then placed himself by him.  A little time after, supper was brought up, and they both began to eat without ceremony.  When they had done, Abou Hassan’s mother cleared the table, set on a small dessert of fruit, wine, and glasses by her son, then withdrew, and appeared no more.  Abou Hassan first filled out his own glass, and then the caliph’s:  and after they had drunk some time, and talked of indifferent matters, the caliph, perceiving that his host grew warm with liquor, began to talk of love, and asked him if he had ever felt that passion.

“Brother,” replied Abou Hassan, familiarly thinking his guest was his equal, “I never looked upon love or marriage but as a slavery, to which I was always unwilling to submit; and must own to you, that I never loved any thing but good cheer and good wine; in short, to divert and entertain myself agreeably with my friends.  Yet I do not tell you that I am indifferent to marriage, or incapable of attachment, if I could meet with a woman of such beauty and sweetness of temper as her I saw in my dream that fatal night in which I first received you into my house, and you, to my misfortune, left my door open, who would pass the whole night with me drinking, singing, and playing on some instrument, and in agreeable conversation, and who would study to please and divert me:  I believe, on the contrary, I should change all my indifference into a perfect attachment to such a person, and, I think, should live very happily with her.  But where is such a woman to be found except in the caliph’s palace, or in those of the grand vizier or some great lords of the court, who want not money to provide them?  I choose therefore to stick to my bottle, which is a much cheaper pleasure, and which I can enjoy as well as the greatest.”  Saying these words, he filled out his own and the caliph’s glass, and said, “Come, take your glass, and let us pursue this charming pleasure.”