"I am truly she," she answered. "Have you quite forgotten me, that you have allowed so long a time to elapse without asking after me? But what have you done with your turban? Let us see."
She took it from his head, sought in the folds, and pulled out the little bag with the talisman.
"Oh, oh!" cried she, returning his turban, "do you carry such things about with you? You will not want it any more: I will keep it." And she sprang forward.
He ran after her and caught her, begging her to return his pouch, explaining that it contained a talisman which had hitherto preserved him from every danger.
"Well," said she, when he paused, "and the only error is, that you have met with me again to-day."
She assured him that she would never return the talisman, and began many games with him as they had done in the garden at Balsora. At dinner-time he asked her to go into the palace to take some refreshment. She looked at him with a scornful laugh, and said, "I? Go under a roof—sit to table with you to partake of meats prepared from the flesh of animals and the flour of wheat? What can you mean? Do you not recollect the fig that we ate together? It still nourishes me; but I know that you need more."
She went to a neighbouring bush, plucked a white blossom, and offered it to him. "There, drink honey," said she.
When he took the flower, it changed into a silver-gilt goblet filled with delicious drink. He drank, and felt himself quite refreshed, strengthened, and satisfied. They again played many childish games together, and the maiden always invented new pastimes. The day passed by, and Jussuf did not perceive how the hours flew away: the sun was just sinking; then his playfellow sprang over a neighbouring bush, and cried, "Good night."
As she passed over the flowers of the bush, she disappeared from Jussuf's eyes, and he saw only the butterfly flying. When he returned to the palace, his servants were much rejoiced. They had waited for him since noon, and had searched for him in the gardens, as an embassy had been sent from the capital to bring him news that the Princess had suddenly fallen ill. He caused the messengers to be brought before him, to learn from them all the attendant circumstances. He discovered from them that she had retired to rest early the preceding evening, and had risen quite well in the morning after a peaceful slumber; but hardly had the sun shone half an hour, when she fell, and was obliged to be carried to her apartments. She soon came to herself, but felt very weak, and informed her sorrowing father that she must die. Jussuf was very thoughtful, for he remembered her warning about the talisman, and also recollected that it was exactly the same hour in which the maiden had taken it from the folds of his turban. He resolved early the next morning to desire the talisman from her earnestly, and then to hasten to the city; and commanded the embassy to return at sunrise the next day, to announce his arrival in the evening. In the loneliness of night he felt angry with himself. But the loss of the talisman, which exceedingly disquieted him, was not the only reason: it was a mortifying feeling to him that he had passed the whole day in childish sports, according to the caprice of his playfellow. He thought over all the words they had spoken, and found nothing in them but excessive frivolity.
He arose the next morning by daybreak, and at sunrise he again stood in the garden. Scarcely had the sun's rays dried the dew, when the beautiful butterfly hovered over the beds. Once more it settled on a poppy. Jussuf covered it with his turban—the change was again completed—the maiden once more stood before him. He immediately demanded of her the little bag with the talisman.