They laughed at him, saying, 'It was the heaviness of that crown which
overweighted thee in the bridge of the abyss, and few be they that bear
it and go not to feed the Roc.'

Now, they feasted together, interchanging civilities, offering to each
other choice morsels, dainties. And the anecdotes of Shibli Bagarag, his
simplicity and his honesty, and his vanity and his airiness, and the
betraying tongue of the barber, diverted the youths; and they plied him
with old wine till his stores of merriment broke forth and were as a
river swollen by torrents of the mountain; and the seven youths laughed
at him, spluttering with laughter, lurching with it. Surely, he
described to them the loquacity of Baba Mustapha his uncle, and they
laughed so that their chins were uppermost; but at his mention of Shagpat
greater gravity was theirs, and they smoothed their faces solemnly, and
the sun of their merriment was darkened for awhile. Then they took to
flinging about pellets of a sugared preparation, and reciting verses in
praise of jovial living, challenging to drink this one and that one,
passing the cup with a stanza. Shibli Bagarag thought, 'What a life is
this led by these youths! a fair one! 'Tis they that be the sons of
Aklis who sharpen the Sword of Events; yet live they in jollity, skimming
from the profusion of abundance that which floateth!'

Now, marking him contemplative, one of the youths shouted, 'The King
lacketh homage!'

And another called, 'Admittance for his people!'

Then the seven arose and placed Shibli Bagarag on an elevation in the
midst of them, and lo! a troop of black slaves leading by the collar,