Do you hear, David?
DAVID.
I hear.
DANCING-MASTER.
Please, monsieur Naum. One—two—three.
Plays on his violin.
NAUM.
Out of breath.
One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.
He turns around, and then, suddenly, almost falls down. He stops. His face is exhausted, deathly pale; he is seized with a fit of coughing. Then he resumes dancing.