The composer of “Le Pavillon d’Armide” is Nicolas Tcherepnin, who has been much associated with the Ballet, and from whom, therefore, peculiarly appropriate music for the dance is to be expected. Charming in itself, it lacks nothing requisite to show the dancers at their best. It would be wearisome to enumerate the several dances which this central scene of the ballet introduces. The more memorable are perhaps the _valse noble_, performed by the entire court, the nimble drollery of the seven jesters, and of course the wonderful efforts of Nijinsky, a superb exposition of the famous “ballon” style of dancing. Not the least delightful number is the valse duet between Nijinsky and Karsavina towards the ending of the scene. As the revels proceed, Armida leaves the dais to mingle in the throng of courtiers. The enraptured Vicomte follows at her elbow, and eagerly submits to be invested with the golden scarf which the fair one casts about him. Wearing this fateful badge, he suffers himself again to be led to the dais, this time to receive the blessing of the aged seigneur on the ardently sought betrothal. Nuptial garments are brought in by slaves, and as Armida herself knots the scarf upon his breast the young man swoons in ecstasy. The brilliant picture fades. Silently the Hours steal back, and Cupid yields his sway to Saturn. The Vicomte de Beaugency awakes. Gone the glittering court of Armida, and in its place only the dull tapestry that hangs before his eyes. It is daylight--and with the memory of the night still burning hotly in his brain, the young man starts to his feet. A dream--could it have been a _dream_? He turns impetuously, expectantly, to the tapestry, but all is still. It _was_ a dream! And yet, and yet---- As he strives to steady his reeling thoughts, his fingers touch some object at his breast. He glances down--it is Armida’s golden scarf! And even as he fingers the fateful knot, there enters the Marquis, urbane but sinister, come to inquire how his guest has passed the night. The Vicomte turns distractedly towards his host, and with a flash of intuition penetrates his disguise. An awful light breaks on him--he sways, staggers, and drops dead at the magician’s feet. And as he falls he clutches vainly at the golden knot which has sealed him yet one more of the witch Armida’s victims. [Illustration] POLOVTSIAN DANCES FROM “PRINCE IGOR.” MUSIC BY A. BORODIN. DANCES BY MICHEL FOKINE. SCENERY AND COSTUMES DESIGNED BY N. ROEHRICH. The Polovtsian Dances which recur so frequently in the Russian repertoire belong properly to an excerpt from the second act of Borodin’s opera “Prince Igor.” But the passage at full length requires the services of singers, and for this reason it is the usual custom to present the dances detached.