"Then eat heartily," said the Barmecide. "You cannot please me better."
After this came the des-sert. The Barmecide spoke of sweet-meats and fruits; and Schacabac made believe that he was eating them.
"Now is there anything else that you would like?" asked the host.
"Ah, no!" said poor Schacabac. "I have indeed had great plenty."
"Let us drink, then," said the Barmecide. "Boy, bring on the wine!"
"Excuse me, my lord," said Schacabac, "I will drink no wine, for it is for-bid-den."
The Barmecide seized him by the hand. "I have long wished to find a man like you," he said. "But come, now we will sup in earnest."
He clapped his hands. Servants came, and he ordered supper. Soon they sat down to a table loaded with the very dishes of which they had pre-tend-ed to eat.
Poor Schacabac had never had so good a meal in all his life. When they had fin-ished, and the table had been cleared away, the Barmecide said,—
"I have found you to be a man of good un-der-stand-ing. Your wits are quick, and you are ready always to make the best of everything. Come and live with me, and manage my house."