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.