Yes, there are the dances; but there is no one to dance.
FISHERMAN.
Though there be no dancer, yet even I—
CHORUS.
For drums—the beating of the waves.
For flutes—the song of the sea-dragon.
For dancer—this ancient man
Despite his furrowed brow
Standing on the furrowed sea
Floating on the green waves
Shall dance the Sea Green Dance.
FISHERMAN.
And the land of Reeds and Rushes....
CHORUS.
Ten thousand years our land inviolate!
[The rest of the play is a kind of “ballet”; the words are merely a commentary on the dances.]