Sometimes, to oblige his friends after a more particular manner, Noureddin would send for the Fair Persian to entertain them; who, notwithstanding her obedience to his command, never approved of his extravagant way of living, and often took the liberty of speaking her mind freely. Sir, said she, I question not but your father has left you abundance of riches; but, how great soever they are, be not angry with your slave for telling you that, at this rate of living, you will quickly see an end of them. We may indeed sometimes afford to treat our friends, and be merry with them; but, to make a daily practice of it, is certainly the high road to ruin and destruction. Therefore, for your own honour and reputation, you would do much better to follow the footsteps of your deceased father, that, in time, you may rise to that dignity by which he acquired so much glory and renown.
Noureddin hearkened to the fair Persian’s discourse with a smiling countenance; and, when she had done, My charmer, said he, with the same air of mirth, say no more of that; let us talk of nothing but mirth and pleasure. In my father’s lifetime I was always under restraint, and I am now resolved to enjoy the liberty I so much sighed for before his death. It is time enough for me to think of leading a sober regular life; and a man of my age ought to taste the pleasures of youth.
What contributed very much towards ruining Noureddin’s fortune, was his unwillingness to reckon with his steward; for, whenever he brought in his accounts, he still sent him away without examining them. Go, go, said he, I trust wholly to your honesty; therefore only take care to let me have wherewith to make merry.
You are the master, sir, replied he, and I but the steward; however, you would do well to think upon the proverb, He that spends much and has but little, must at last insensibly be reduced to poverty. You are not contented with keeping an extravagant table, but you must lavish away your estate with both hands: and were your coffers as large as mountains, they would not be sufficient to maintain you. Begone, replied Noureddin; your grave lessons are needless; only take care to provide good eating and drinking, and trouble your head no farther about the rest.
In the mean time Noureddin’s friends were constant guests at his table, and never failed making some advantage of the easiness of his temper. They praised and flattered him, extolling his most indifferent actions to the very skies. But, above all, they took particular care to commend whatever belonged to him and his; and this, they found, turned to some account. Sir, says one of them, I came the other day by your estate that lies in such a place: certainly there is nothing so magnificent, or so handsomely furnished, as your house; and the garden belonging to it is a paradise upon earth. I am very glad it pleases you, says Noureddin. Here, bring me pen, ink, and paper: but, without more words, it is at your service, and I make you a present of it. No sooner had others commended his house, baths, and some public buildings erected for the use of strangers, the yearly revenue of which was very considerable, than he immediately gave them away. The Fair Persian could not forbear letting him know how much injury he did himself; but, instead of taking any notice of it, he continued his extravagances, and, upon the first opportunity, squandered away the little he had left.
In short, Noureddin did nothing for a whole year together, but feasted and made himself merry, wasting and consuming, after a prodigal manner, the riches that his predecessors, and the good vizier his father, had, with so much pains and care, heaped together and preserved.
The year was but just expired, when somebody one day knocked at the hall door, where he and his friends were at dinner together by themselves, having sent away their slaves, that they might enjoy a greater liberty and freedom of conversation.
One of his friends offered to rise, but Noureddin stepped before him, and opened the door himself. It seems it was the steward; and Noureddin going a little out of the hall to know his business, left the door half open.
The friend that offered to rise from his seat, seeing it was the steward, and being somewhat curious to know what he had to say to Noureddin, placed himself between the hangings and the door, where he plainly overheard the steward’s discourse to his master. Sir, said the steward, I ask a thousand pardons for my coming to disturb you in the height of your joys; but this affair is of such importance, that I thought myself bound in duty to acquaint you with it. I come, sir, to make up my last accounts, and to tell you that what I all along foresaw, and have often warned you of, is at last come to pass. Behold, sir, says he, (showing him a small piece of money,) the remainder of all the sums I have received from you during my stewardship; the other funds you were pleased to assign me are all exhausted. The farmers, and those that owe you rent, have made it so plainly appear to me that you have assigned over to others whatever remains in their hands due to you, that it is impossible for me to get any more from them upon your account. Here are my books; if you please, examine them: and if you think fit to continue me in the place I am now in, order me some other funds, or else give me leave to quit your service. Noureddin was so astonished at this discourse, that he gave him no manner of answer.
The friend who had been listening all this while, and had heard every syllable of what the steward said, immediately came in and told the company what he had lately overheard. It is your business, gentlemen, says he, to make use of this caution; for my part, I declare it openly to you, this is the last visit I design to make Noureddin. Nay, replied they, if matters go thus, we have as little business here as you; and, for the future, shall take care not to trouble him with our company.