tap, tap, tap, death continues, endlessly scraping his shrill violin a veil has slipped! the dancer’s naked! her partner clasps her amorously.

they say she’s a baroness or marchioness, and the callow gallant a poor cartwright. good god! and now she’s giving herself, as though the bumpkin were a baron!

tap, tap, tap, what a saraband! circles of corpses all holding hands! tap, tap, tap, in the throng you can see king and peasant dancing together!