As in one's hand a lighted match blinds you before it comes aflame and sends out brilliant flickering tongues to every side -- so, within the ring of the spectators, her dance begins in hasty, heated rhythms and spreads itself darting flames around.
And suddenly the dance is altogether flame!
With a fierce glance she sets her hair alight. Unexpectedly she turns with daring artfulness the swirling flounces of her dress within this conflagaration, out of which her upheld naked arms, clapping the castanets, appear like serpents striking.
And then, afraid her fire were diminishing, she gathers it all up and flings it down with an imperious haughtly gesture, and watches as it lies there writhing on the ground, unyielding and unwilling to concede the dance has ended. Yet she show victory in her sweet swift smile as she lifts up her face, while with her small firm feet she stamps out the last of the dying embers.