It was she, in truth, who saw him dance as she peered out the window at the end of the great corridor to which she had come from the windowless, servant's quarters and there she saw the moonlight, shattered into icy shards, reform and become dancers, covered with black and white, brown, red, grey spotted, streaked and speckled goat skins...dancing to the pipes the old shepherd moved across his full lips.
She looked into his face for one brief moment and found herself unable to remain at the window looking out...without joining in the movement herself and soon found herself on the great lawn moving with total abandon.
The other dancers at first paid no attention to her but gradually included her in the dance...and she spun and leaped, to the time of the music she heard, to sink, writhing, to the ground, and rise once more and spin and leap again... At first, the other dancers were as pieces of light, shaping and reshaping themselves into forms she thought she recognized in the rapidly changing patterns created by the clouds that scudded across the face of the moon.
This patch of light became light footed antelopes and that, a leaping, twisting dog, and yet another, grotesque creatures with human heads and animal bodies...all spinning, leaping, twirling in the moonlit night...all to the tune of the shepherd who no longer appeared old and gray but whose thick, arched eyebrows, fiery eyes, sensual lips were offset top and bottom by a tangle of hair, alive, as he moved his lips across the pipes, like snakes in a pit, while his feet, which were graced each with its hoof, delicately pointed and ashine, moved ever up and down in time to the music.