Ah! he is near his death now.
Do you remember how the dancers surrounded you, and how tenderly, how bewitchingly, the music played? It played like this.
[The Old Women form a semicircle around the Man, and begin softly to hum the tune which was played at his ball.]
Let us have a ball ourselves. It is so long since, I had a dance!
Very well. "Imagine this to be a palace—a supernaturally beautiful palace."
First of all we must call the musicians. One cannot have a proper ball without music.
The musicians?
Yes, certainly. Do you not remember them?
[The Old Women give a shrill cry, and instantly there are seen coming down the ladder the same three musicians who played at the Man's ball. The fiddler folds a handkerchief on his shoulder, to form a pad for his fiddle, and they begin to play with extraordinary energy. Yet the music is soft and low, as in a dream.]
Now we can have our ball!