"Thou jestest, high daughter of a genius," exclaimed Jussuf, sinking on his knees: "thy incomparable beauty testifies that thou art no ordinary mortal, if even the wonderful manner in which thou hast appeared had not fixed it beyond all doubt."
"It may be," replied the maiden, "that thou hast rightly guessed. But that is no matter; I am come here to-day to help to banish your idle thoughts: come, run a race with me."
Immediately she threw the poppy which he had covered with his turban roughly in his face, and ran away. Jussuf remained irresolute, and looked after her; then she stopped her pace, and called back to him,
"Art thou transformed into a statue? canst thou not run? run, and catch me, if you can."
Her mischievous manner gave her an irresistible grace, which urged him to begin the race, even although he did not wish to join in it. She flew on, allowing him sometimes to approach her, and then turned suddenly aside out of the way, and ran over the turf to avoid him: she did not even spare the flower-beds; and when she wanted to escape from him, she passed over them without caring for the finest plants. The more she provoked him in different ways, the more he exerted all his strength to catch her. At last she appeared exhausted, and threw herself, breathing heavily, on a bank of turf. "Here is an asylum," exclaimed she.
Tired and breathless with the unusual exertion of running, he followed her example, and sat down near her on the bank. While they were resting, she plucked some flowers and branches of a flourishing shrub, which had spread itself from the bank into a green roof over their heads, and skilfully wove a garland.
"Come," said she to Jussuf, when the wreath was ready, "come, let us throw up the garland."
She arose at these words and led him to the nearest open space; she leaped around, dancing in a circle and holding the garland on high in her right hand, and then threw it up high into the air. The garland of flowers rose while she sang these words:
"Rise, thou garland fresh and fair,
Blend thy hues in liquid air:
Downward sinking, may'st thou be
A fairy coronal for me."
High above the shoots of the surrounding trees it seemed to remain hovering in the sunshine which lighted the colours of the flowers, inducing a very peculiar splendour. Then it sank down gradually in soft vibrations, and settled on her head, as if she had placed it there herself as a crown. She took it from her locks and handed it to Jussuf.