The Masque of the Red Death


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phantasm--much of what has been since seen in "Hernani". There were  
arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were  
delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the  
beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the  
terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.  
To and fro in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a multitude of  
dreams. And these--the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from  
the rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the  
echo of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which  
stands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is  
still, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are  
stiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they  
have endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdued laughter floats  
after them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the  
dreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue  
from the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the  
tripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,  
there are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning  
away; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;  
and the blackness of the sable drapery appals; and to him whose foot  
falls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a  
muffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches their ears  
who indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.  
But these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat  
feverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until  
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