He begins a series of elaborate obeisances designed at once to propitiate the ire which he supposes the inanimate coconut to nurse, and cover the stealthy approach which he nevertheless makes towards it. He grins facetiously as his silly antics gradually bring him nearer the object of his desires. With a final prostration he achieves his purpose, and sprawls delightedly over the nut, just as the Dancer, fresh from her rejection of Pétrouchka’s fervent but ill-proffered advances, enters the apartment. Coquettishly in her hand the Dancer carries a toy trumpet, and with this to her lips, sounding a lively gallop, she foots it merrily to and fro. The Blackamoor, who took but little notice of her entry, is distracted from his fervent occupation with the coconut. Beguiled by the inspiriting strains of the trumpet, he watches her movements with increasing interest, rolling his goggle eyes from side to side as she trips it up and down. [Illustration] With sudden ardour the Blackamoor starts up, and flinging away his wretched plaything, seizes and embraces his fascinating visitor. The latter seems nothing loth, and gratified by this easy conquest the Blackamoor seats himself to receive the homage of a further dance. The lady, eager to make the most of opportunity, exerts herself in even livelier fashion than before, and finds occasion to fall provocatively into her admirer’s arms. The Blackamoor is now entirely captivated, and when the Dancer begins, to a sugary, sentimental strain, a _pas de fascination_ of which his sluggish wits at length realise himself to be the object, his fondness is grotesquely manifested. From the edge of his divan he fatuously ogles the fair one, and is thrown into transports of delight when she accepts a rapturous invitation to sit upon his knee. The flirtation receives unwelcome interruption by the unexpected arrival of Pétrouchka. Fired by jealousy, and impelled by his infatuation for the Dancer, he has escaped at last and come to seek her in the hated rival’s domain. But the poor fellow is so ineffectual that he cannot make even a passably impressive entry. In his blundering haste he gets caught in the swinging door and hangs there, half in the room, half out, an object of derision to his inamorata and her dusky swain. Even when he has struggled free of this embarrassment and confronts the guilty pair, Pétrouchka is pathetically at a loss. Tortured by vague fears, he has yielded to a vague impulse, only to find himself unable to deal with the situation he has so rashly sought.