Schemseddin Mohammed, who was naturally passionate, did not fail, on this occasion, to display his anger. He went forthwith to his sister-in-law’s tent, and making up to the eunuch, What! said he, you pitiful wretch, have you the impudence to abuse the trust I repose in you? Schaban, though sufficiently convicted by Agib’s testimony, denied the fact still. But the child persisting in what he had affirmed, Grandfather, said he, I can assure you we not only eat, but we eat both of us so heartily, that we have no occasion for supper; besides, the pastry-cook treated us also with a great bowl of sherbet. Well, cried Schemseddin, turning to Schaban, after all this, will you continue to deny that you entered the pastry-cook’s house, and eat there? Schaban had still the impudence to swear it was not true. Then you are a liar, said the vizier, I believe my grandchild before I believe you; but after all, said he, if you can eat up this cream tart that is upon the table, I shall be persuaded you have truth on your side. Though Schaban had crammed himself up to the throat before, he agreed to stand that test, and accordingly took a piece of tart; but his stomach rising against it, he was obliged to spit it out of his mouth. Yet he still pursued the lie, and pretended he had over-eat himself the day before, so that he had not recovered his appetite. The vizier, irritated with all the eunuch’s frivolous pretences, and convinced of his guilt, ordered him to lie flat upon the ground, and to be soundly bastinadoed. In undergoing this punishment, the poor wretch shrieked out aloud, and at last, confessed the truth. I own, cries he, that we did eat a cream tart at the pastry-cook’s, and that it was much better than that upon the table. The widow of Nourreddin Ali thought it was out of spite to her, and with a design to mortify her, that Schaban commended the pastry-cook’s tart: and accordingly said, I cannot believe the cook’s tarts are better than mine: I am resolved to satisfy myself upon that head. Where does he live? Go immediately, and buy me one of his tarts. The eunuch having received of her what money was sufficient for that purpose, repaired to Bedreddin’s shop, and addressing himself to Bedreddin, Good Mr. Pastry-cook, said he, take this money here, and let me have one of your cream tarts; one of our ladies wants to taste them. Bedreddin chose one of the best, and gave it to the eunuch: Take this, said he; I will engage it is an excellent one, and I can assure you that no person is able to make the like, unless it be my mother, who perhaps is still alive.