(Polkan sticks his head out from behind the tent, but dares not to approach.)
King Dodon
(seeks a reconciliation).
Do not get angry, darling!
Although I do not know how to dance,
I shall not spare myself.
Queen of Shemakhan.
Well, let us begin. People, come hither!
Our Dodon is going to dance.
(Polkan and the Warriors cautiously draw near to the carpet, stand in a circle and try not to look at Dodon. The female slaves begin a measured and graceful dance; The Queen with a tambourine joins in, slowly and light as air.)
Queen of Shemakhan
(dancing).