As soon as they were gone, Noureddin, little suspecting the resolution they had made of never visiting him, went directly to the Fair Persian’s apartment, to whom, in private, he related all the steward had told him, and seemed extremely concerned at the ill posture of his affairs. Sir, said the Fair Persian to him, you would never take my advice, but always managed your concerns after your own way, and now you see the fatal consequences of it. I find I was not mistaken, when I presaged to what a miserable condition you would bring yourself at last; but what afflicts me the more, is, that at present you do not see the worst of your misfortunes. Whenever I presumed freely to impart my thoughts to you, Let us be merry, said you, and in pleasures improve the time that fortune has kindly given us; perhaps she will not always be so prodigal of her favours. But was I now to blame in telling you that we are the makers or undoers of our own fortunes, by a prudent or foolish management of them? You indeed would never hearken to me; so, at last, much against my will, I was forced to desist, and let you alone. I must own, replied Noureddin, I was extremely in the wrong in not following the advice that you, out of your abundance of prudence and discretion, was pleased to give me. It is true I have spent my estate; but do you not consider it is among friends of a long acquaintance, who, I am persuaded, have more generosity and gratitude in them than to abandon and forsake me in distress? Sir, replied the Fair Persian, if you have nothing but the gratitude of your friends to depend on, you are in a desperate condition; for, believe me, that hope is vain and ill-grounded, and you will tell me so yourself in a very little time. To this Noureddin replied, Charming Persian, I have a much better opinion of my friends’ generosity than you. To-morrow I design to make a visit to them all, before the usual time of their coming hither, and you shall see me return with a vast sum, that they will raise among them to support me. I am resolved to change my way of living, and, with the money they lend me, set up for a merchant. The next morning, Noureddin failed not to visit his ten friends, who lived in the very same street. He knocked at the first door he came at, where one of the richest of them lived. A slave came to the door; but, before he would open it, he asked who was there? Go to your master, says he to the slave, and tell him it is Noureddin, the late vizier’s son. Upon this the slave opens the door, and shows him into a hall, where he left him to go and tell his master, who was in an inner room, that Noureddin was come to wait on him. Noureddin! cried he, in a disdainful tone, loud enough for Noureddin to hear it with surprise. Go, tell him I am not at home; and whenever he comes hither, be sure you give him the same answer. The slave came back, and told Noureddin he thought his master was within, but he was mistaken.