THE BARBER’S SECOND BROTHER. 233

gentle pats with her hand, which at length she applied so for-
cibly, that he grew angry at 1. At this moment the old woman,
who had brought my brother there, looked at him in such a way
as to make him understand that he was wrong, and had forgot-
ten the advice she had before given him. The slaves now began
to take a part in the sport. One of them gave poor Bakbarah
a fillip on the nose with all her strength ; another pulled his ears
almost off, while the rest kept giving him slaps, which passed the
limits of raillery and fun.

My brother bore all this with the most exemplary patience :
he even affected an air of gaiety, and looked at the old woman
with a forced smile. The young lady then spoke to her attend-
ants: “ Bring,” cried she, “ perfumes and rose-water.” At these
words two slaves went out and instantly returned, one with a
silver vase, in which there was exquisite aloe-wood, with which
she perfumed him, and the other with rose-water, which she
sprinkled over his face and hands.

When this ceremony was finished, the lady called another
slave, and ordered her to take my brother with her, saying,
“You know what to do; and when you have finished, return
with him to me.” Bakbarah, who heard this order given, im-
mediately got up, and going towards the old woman who had
also risen to accompany the slave, he requested her to tell him
what they wished him to do. “Our mistress,” replied she, in a
whisper, “is extremely curious, and she wishes to see how you
would look disguised as a female; this slave, therefore, has
orders to paint your eyebrows, shave your mustachios, and
dress you like a woman.” “You may paint my eyebrows,” said
my brother, “as much as you please, because I can wash them
again; but as to shaving me, that, mind you, I will by no
means suffer.” “Take care,” answered the woman, “how you
oppose anything that is required of you. You will quite spoil
your fortune, which is going on as prosperously as possible.
She loves you and wishes to make you happy.”

Bakbarah at length yielded to the old woman’s arguments ;
and without saying another word, he suffered the slave to con-
duct him to an apartment, where they painted his eyebrows red.
They shaved his mustachios, and were absolutely going to shave
his beard. But the easiness of my brother’s temper did not
carry him quite so far as to suffer that. “ Nota single stroke,”