Маска Червоної Смерті

           Hisplanswereboldandfiery,andhisconceptionsglowedwithbarbariclustre. Therearesomewhowouldhavethoughthimmad.Hisfollowersfeltthathewasnot. Itwasnecessarytohearandseeandtouchhimtobesurethathewasnot. 

           Hehaddirected,ingreatpart,themoveableembellishmentsofthesevenchambers,uponoccasionofthisgreatfete; anditwashisownguidingtastewhichhadgivencharactertothemasqueraders. Besuretheyweregrotesque. Thereweremuchglareandglitterandpiquancyandphantasm—muchofwhathasbeensinceseenin“Hernani.” Therewerearabesquefigureswithunsuitedlimbsandappointments. Thereweredeliriousfanciessuchasthemadmanfashions. Therewasmuchofthebeautiful,muchofthewanton,muchofthebizarre,somethingoftheterrible,andnotalittleofthatwhichmighthaveexciteddisgust. Toandfrointhesevenchamberstherestalked,infact,amultitudeofdreams. Andthese—thedreams—writhedinandabout,takinghuefromtherooms,andcausingthewildmusicoftheorchestratoseemastheechooftheirsteps. And,anon,therestrikestheebonyclockwhichstandsinthehallofthevelvet. Andthen,foramoment,allisstill,andallissilentsavethevoiceoftheclock.Thedreamsarestiff-frozenastheystand. Buttheechoesofthechimedieaway—theyhaveenduredbutaninstant—andalight,half-subduedlaughterfloatsafterthemastheydepart.