There is a laughable account of one of these chicken-dances, as the Americans call them, in the first volume of the late Mr. T. Keast Lord's 'The Naturalist in British Columbia.'
chicken-dances,
No I could not! Kate looked at Max sternly. I am not a cheat and I am not a serial monogamist.
No I could not!
I am not a cheat and I am not a serial monogamist.
And behind Spenser's poem is a further implication: that in the timeless realm beyond history, in which all things shall one day be upfolded, the imagined and the real will become one, the crooked images be absorbed into their archetypes.
The other extreme is a cattle call audition, when dozens or even hundreds of performers are auditioned in groups, only getting a chance to speak a few lines, sing a few bars, or dance a few steps.
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