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He strode on; all felt envious of him and pressed upon him in

pursuit; he would have been glad to steal away from the throng

with his lady; at times he stood still, courteously raised his

hand, and humbly begged them to pass by; sometimes he meditated

withdrawing adroitly to one side; he often changed his course,

and would have been glad to elude his comrades, but they

importunately followed him with swift steps, and encircled him

from all sides in the evolutions of the dance: so he grew angry,

and laid his right hand on his sword hilt, as if to say: "I care

not for you; woe to those who are jealous of me!" He turned about

with a haughty brow and with a challenge in his eye, and made

straight for the throng; the throng of dancers did not dare

withstand him, but retired from his path-and, changing their

formation, they started again in pursuit of him.-