It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince Prospero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven rooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and the music had
become hushed at the waving of his hand.
It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary
cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that
had seized upon all.
When the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image (which, with a slow and solemn movement, as
if more fully to sustain its role, stalked to and from among the waltzers) he was seen to be convulsed, in the first
moment with a strong shudder either of terror distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.
But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he
summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his
court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys.