Phantastes, A Faerie Romance - Page 86/147

There was in all this, however, no solution to the sound of dancing; and

now I was aware that the influence on my mind had ceased. I did not

go in that evening, for I was weary and faint, but I hoarded up the

expectation of entering, as of a great coming joy.

Next night I walked, as on the preceding, through the hall. My mind was

filled with pictures and songs, and therewith so much absorbed, that

I did not for some time think of looking within the curtain I had last

night lifted. When the thought of doing so occurred to me first, I

happened to be within a few yards of it. I became conscious, at the same

moment, that the sound of dancing had been for some time in my ears. I

approached the curtain quickly, and, lifting it, entered the black hall.

Everything was still as death. I should have concluded that the

sound must have proceeded from some other more distant quarter,

which conclusion its faintness would, in ordinary circumstances, have

necessitated from the first; but there was a something about the statues

that caused me still to remain in doubt. As I said, each stood perfectly

still upon its black pedestal: but there was about every one a certain

air, not of motion, but as if it had just ceased from movement; as if

the rest were not altogether of the marbly stillness of thousands of

years.

It was as if the peculiar atmosphere of each had yet a kind

of invisible tremulousness; as if its agitated wavelets had not

yet subsided into a perfect calm. I had the suspicion that they had

anticipated my appearance, and had sprung, each, from the living joy of

the dance, to the death-silence and blackness of its isolated pedestal,

just before I entered. I walked across the central hall to the curtain

opposite the one I had lifted, and, entering there, found all the

appearances similar; only that the statues were different, and

differently grouped. Neither did they produce on my mind that

impression--of motion just expired, which I had experienced from the

others. I found that behind every one of the crimson curtains was a

similar hall, similarly lighted, and similarly occupied.

The next night, I did not allow my thoughts to be absorbed as before

with inward images, but crept stealthily along to the furthest curtain

in the hall, from behind which, likewise, I had formerly seemed to hear

the sound of dancing. I drew aside its edge as suddenly as I could, and,

looking in, saw that the utmost stillness pervaded the vast place. I

walked in, and passed through it to the other end.