4- The Story of Abou Hassan - Page 2

He
went melancholy and thoughtful, his countenance expressive of
deep vexation, into his mother's apartment, and sat down on the
end of a sofa at a distance from her. "What is the matter with
you, son?" said his mother, seeing him thus depressed. "Why are
you so altered, so dejected, and so different from yourself? You
could not certainly be more concerned, if you had lost all you
had. I know you have lived very extravagantly, and believe all
your money is spent; you have still, however, a good estate; and
the reason that I did not so much oppose your irregular way of
living was, that I knew the wise precaution you had taken to
preserve half your property. I do not, therefore, see why you
should plunge yourself into this deep melancholy."

At these words Abou Hassan melted into tears; and in the midst of
his sighs exclaimed, "Ah! mother, I see at last how insupportable
poverty must be; I am sensible that it deprives us of joy, as the
setting of the sun does of light. As poverty makes us forget all
the commendations passed upon us before our fall, it makes us
endeavour to conceal ourselves, and spend our nights in tears and
sorrow. In short, a poor man is looked upon, both by friends and
relations, as a stranger. You know, mother, how I have treated my
friends for this year past; I have entertained them with all
imaginable generosity, till I have spent all my money, and now
they have left me, when they suppose I can treat them no longer.
For my real estate, I thank heaven for having given me grace to
keep the oath I made not to encroach upon that. I shall now know
how to use what is left. But I will, however, try how far my
friends, who deserve not that I should call them so, will carry
their ingratitude. I will go to them one after another, and when
I have represented to them what I have done on their account, ask
them to make up a sum of money, to relieve me, merely to try if I
can find any sentiment of gratitude remaining in them."

"I do not pretend, son," said Abou Hassan's mother, "to dissuade
you from your design; but I can tell you beforehand, that you
have no ground for hope. Believe me, you will kind no relief but
from the estate you have reserved. I see you do not, but will
soon, know those people, who, among persons of your sort, are
generally called friends, and I wish to heaven you may know it in
the manner I desire, for your own good." "Mother," replied Abou
Hassan, "I am persuaded of the truth of what you say, but shall
be more certain of a fact which concerns me so nearly, when I
shall have informed myself fully of their baseness and
insensibility." Abou Hassan went immediately to his friends, whom