The good old man loved a cheruping cup to his heart, but was ashamed to drink among strangers. He often went to the tavern in private, as abundance of people do; and now his hand being once in, without any more ceremony, or round-about ways, as Noureddin had instructed him, he goes directly to the next inn, where he was very well known, and fetches some more wine (the night serving him instead of a cloak) with the money that Noureddin had ordered him to give the messenger that went for the first.
As soon as Scheich Ibrahim had taken off his cup, and made an end of the piece of apple, the Fair Persian filled him out another, which he received with less difficulty than the former, but made none at all at the third. In short, he drank four times before ever Noureddin discovered his pretended sleeping; but then bursting out into a violent fit of laughter, he rose up, and looking upon him, Ha! ha! said he, Scheich Ibrahim, are you caught at last? did you not tell me you had forsworn wine? and now you have drank it all up from me.
Scheich Ibrahim, not expecting to be surprised after that manner, blushed a little: however, that did not spoil his draught: but when he had done, Sir, said he to Noureddin, laughing, if there is any crime in what I have done, it lies at this fair lady’s door, not mine; for who could possibly resist so many charms?
The Fair Persian, who knew well enough what Noureddin would be at, took Scheich Ibrahim’s part: Let him talk, said she; Scheich Ibrahim, take no notice of him; but let us drink on, and be merry. A while after, Noureddin fills out a cup for himself and the Fair Persian; but when Scheich Ibrahim saw that Noureddin had forgot him in his turn, he took his cup, and presenting it to the Fair Persian, Madam, said he, do I pretend I cannot drink now?
At these words of Scheich Ibrahim’s, Noureddin and the Fair Persian were ready to split their sides with laughing. Noureddin poured him out some wine; and there they sat laughing, chatting, and drinking, till pretty near midnight. About that hour, the Fair Persian began to take notice of there being but one candle upon the table. Scheich Ibrahim, said she to the good old officer, methinks you might have afforded us another candle, since there are so many wax-lights yonder: pray do us the favour to light some of them, that we may see a little better what we are doing here.
Scheich Ibrahim making use of the liberty that wine gives a man, when it gets up into the crown-office, and not caring to be interrupted in his discourse with Noureddin, bid the Fair Persian light them herself: It is fitter for you to do it than me, said he: but, hark ye, be sure not to light above five or six; for this is enough. Up rose the Fair Persian immediately, and taking a wax-candle in her hand, lights it with that which stood upon the table; and, without any regard to Scheich Ibrahim’s orders, set fire to the whole fourscore.
By and by, while Scheich Ibrahim was entertaining the Fair Persian with some other discourse, Noureddin took his turn to desire him to light up some of the candles in the branched candlesticks, not taking notice that all the wax-lights were already in a blaze: Certainly, replied Scheich Ibrahim, you are lazier, or less vigorous, than I am, that you are not able to light them yourself: get you gone; but be sure you light no more than three. To work he went; but, instead of that number, he lighted them all, and opened the shutters of the fourscore windows, before Scheich Ibrahim, who was deeply engaged with the Fair Persian, knew any thing of the matter.
The caliph Haroun Alraschid being not yet gone to bed, was in a parlour at his palace by the river Tigris, from whence he could take a side-view both of the garden and pavilion. By chance, he opened the casement, and seeing the pavilion was illuminated, was mightily surprised at it; and at first, by the greatness of the light, thought the city was on fire. The grand vizier Giafar was still with him, who only waited for his going to rest, and then designed to go home too. The caliph, in a great rage, called the vizier to him: Careless vizier, said he, come hither, look upon the pavilion of pictures, and tell me the reason of its being illuminated, now I am not there.
The grand vizier Giafar, upon this news, fell into a violent trembling, fearing something else was the matter; but, when he came nearer, and with his own eyes saw the truth of what the caliph had told him, he was more astonished than before. However, being obliged to make some excuse to appease the caliph’s anger, he said, Commander of the true believers, all that I can say to your majesty about this matter is, that about five or six days ago, Scheich Ibrahim came to acquaint me, that he had a design to call an assembly of the ministers of his mosque, to assist at a ceremony he was ambitious of performing in your majesty’s auspicious reign. I asked him if I could be any way serviceable to him in this affair; upon which he entreated me to get leave of your majesty to perform the ceremony in the pavilion. When he left me, I told him he might do it, and I would take care to acquaint your majesty with it; but indeed I had quite forgot it, and I heartily ask pardon. Scheich Ibrahim, continued he, has certainly made choice of this day for the ceremony; and, after treating the ministers of his mosque, he was willing to divert them with the sight of this illumination.
Giafar, said the caliph, with a tone that plainly showed his anger was a little mollified, according to thy own words, thou hast committed three faults that are unpardonable: the first, in giving Scheich Ibrahim leave to perform his ceremony in my pavilion; for a person in so mean an office as his, is not worthy of so great an honour: the second, in not acquainting me with it: and the third, in not diving into the bottom of the good old man’s intention. For my part, I am persuaded he only did it to try if he could get any money towards bearing the charge of it; but perhaps that never came into thy head: and sure I shall not wrong him, in forgiving him the expense of the night’s illumination, which will be some amends for thy presenting him with nothing.