According to this project, Abon Hassan took care every morning to provide whatever he designed for night, and towards the close of the evening went and sat on Bagdad bridge; and, as soon as ever he saw a stranger, of whatever condition he was, he accosted him civilly, and invited him to sup and lodge with him that night; and, after having informed him of the law he had imposed upon himself, took him home with him. The repast with which Abon Hassan regaled his guests was not costly, but always plain and neat, with plenty of good wine, and generally lasted till the night was pretty well advanced; when, instead of entertaining his guest with the affairs of state, his family or business, as is too frequent, he affected to talk of indifferent subjects, and was naturally of so gay and pleasant a temper, that he could give the most agreeable turns in conversation, and make the most reserved and melancholy persons merry. When he saw his guest again the next morning, he always said to him, God preserve you from all sorrow wherever you go: when I invited you yesterday to come and sup with me, I informed you of the law I have made; therefore do not take it ill if I tell you that we must never see one another again, nor drink together, for reasons best known to myself: so God conduct you.
Abon Hassan was very exact in the observation of this oath, and never looked upon, or spoke to, any stranger he had once entertained, wherever he met them; and had lived for a long time after this manner, when one afternoon, a little before sunset, as he was sitting upon the bridge, according to custom, the caliph Haroun Alraschid came by so disguised that nobody could know him: for that monarch, though his chief ministers and officers of justice acquitted themselves of their duty very punctually, yet would take notice of every thing himself; and, to that purpose, often disguised himself, and walked through the city and suburbs of Bagdad; and that day was dressed like a merchant of Moussel, who had but just disembarked, and was followed by a slave.
As the caliph had in his disguise a grave and awful air, Abon Hassan, who thought him to be a Moussel merchant, went directly to him; and, after having saluted him with a smiling countenance, and kissed his hand, said, Sir, I congratulate you on your happy arrival, and beg of you to do me the honour to go and sup with me, and repose yourself at my home this night, after the fatigue of your voyage; and, to oblige him not to deny him that favour, he told him his custom of entertaining the first stranger he met with. The caliph found something so odd and singular in Abon Hassan’s taste, that he was very desirous to know the bottom, without quitting the character of a merchant; and told him, that he could not better answer that great civility, which he did not expect at his arrival at Bagdad, than by accepting the obliging offer that he made him.
Abon Hassan, who knew not that the guest which fortune presented to him was so very much above him, treated him as his equal, carried him home, and led him into a room very neatly furnished, where he set him on a sofa, at the upper end of a table that was ready laid for supper, which was soon after sent up by Abon Hassan’s mother, who took upon herself the care of the kitchen, and consisted of three dishes. The first was a capon and four large pullets, which were set in the middle; and the second and third, placed on each side, were a fat roasted goose and boiled pigeons, all dressed very neatly, and with proper sauces.
Abon Hassan sat down over against his guest, and he and the caliph began to eat heartily of what they liked best, without speaking or drinking, according to the custom of the country. When they had done eating, the caliph’s slave brought them water to wash their hands; and, in the mean time, Abon Hassan’s mother sent up a dessert of all sorts of dried sweetmeats, and all the fruits then in season, as grapes, peaches, apples, pears, &c. As soon as it grew dark, wax-candles were lighted, and Abon Hassan, after charging his mother to take care of the caliph’s slave, brought bottles and glasses.
Then Abon Hassan, sitting down with the pretended Moussel merchant again, filled out a glass of wine, before he touched the dessert; and holding it out in his hand, said to the caliph, You know, sir, that the cock never drinks before he calls to his hens to come and drink with him; so I invite you to follow my example. I do not know what you may think; for my part, I cannot reckon him a wise man who does not love wine: come, let us leave those sort of people to their dull melancholy humours, and seek for mirth, which is only to be found in a brimmer.
While Abon Hassan was drinking, the caliph, taking the glass that was set by him, said, Now I like you, you are an honest fellow; I am mightily taken with your pleasant temper, and expect you should fill me as much. Abon Hassan, as soon as he had drunk, filled the caliph’s glass, and giving it to him, Here, sir, said he, taste this wine; I will warrant it good. I am very well persuaded, replied the caliph, laughing, that you know how to make choice of the best. O, replied Abon Hassan, while the caliph was taking off his glass, one may easily find that you know what good living is, and have seen the world. Alas! how happy is my house in your presence, and how overjoyed am I for meeting with a man of so much merit.
The caliph, who was naturally a merry man, was mightily diverted with these sallies of Abon Hassan, and took great pleasure in promoting drinking, often asking for wine, thinking that when that began to work, he might penetrate so far into his discourse as to satisfy his curiosity. Therefore, to enter into conversation, he asked him his name, his business, and how he spent his life. My name, sir, replied he, is Abon Hassan: my father, whom I buried, was a merchant of Bagdad; and though he was not the richest, yet he lived very well. When he died, he left me enough in my station to live free from ambition; but as he always kept a very strict hand over me in his life-time, I was willing, when he was gone, to make up the time I thought I had lost.
But notwithstanding, continued Abon Hassan, in this I was more prudent than most young people are, who give themselves unto debauchery without any thought, and who reduce themselves to the utmost poverty, and are forced to do penance all the rest of their lives after. Now I, to avoid this misfortune, divided what I had left me in two parts, and with one bought an estate, with a resolution not to finger my rents at that time; and kept the other in ready money to pursue my extravagances with. I associated myself with young people of my age, and with my ready money, which I spent profusely, treated them every day; and, in short, spared for no sort of pleasure. But these feastings did not last long; for by that time the year was out, I had got to the bottom of my cash, and then all my friends vanished. I made a visit to every one of them, and represented to them the miserable condition I was in, but none of them would relieve me. Upon this, I renounced their friendship, and retrenched so far as to live within the compass of my income, and obliged myself to keep company with none but the first stranger I could meet with, coming that day into Bagdad, and to entertain him but one night. I have told you the rest before; and I thank my good fortune this day for meeting with a stranger of so much worth.
The caliph was very well satisfied with this information, and said to Abon Hassan, I cannot enough commend the measures you have taken, and the prudence with which you have acted, by forsaking your debauchery; a conduct rarely to be met with in young persons; and I esteem you the more for being so just to yourself as you have been. It was a slippery path you trode in; and I cannot enough admire, how, after having seen the end of your ready money, you had so great a command over yourself not to enter upon your estate. In short, I must own I envy your happiness: you are the only happy man in the world, to enjoy every day the company of some one honest man, with whom you can discourse freely and agreeably, and to whom you give an opportunity to declare, wherever he goes, how handsomely he was received by you. But we talk too long without drinking; come drink, and pour out to me.