So let us leave them, going home by the light of torches, huge and crimson in the night, to the strumming of guitars.
(José Rizal, Noli Me Tangere, tr. Leon Ma. Guerrero, ch. 24)
The lantern’s black frame would be scored into a template of cutout human forms, and red cellophane would be stretched underneath this cardboard scaffold. It was to be mounted on bamboo poles and lit from within, casting crimson shadows of quivering human forms.
(Susan F. Quimpo, ‘Lantern parade’, in Subversive Lives)
Wearing the jacket over a simple black dress, I met my mother at the opera house. …We entered the concert hall, smelt the fresh flowers on the way and sat huddled upon crimson chairs in a corner; we experienced the concert performance.
(Boi Huyen Ngo, ‘The uniting of pieces: Sewing Vietnamese Australian women’s identities’, Southerly 74.3)
the scaffold mounted by the Constable of Saint Pol is richly shrouded with black velvet strewn with fleurs-de-lis; the cloth with which his eyes are bandaged, the cushion on which he kneels, are of crimson velvet
(J. Huizinga, The Waning of the Middle Ages, ch. 2)
The crimson brick lodge came first in sight, up to its eaves in dense evergreens. Tess thought this was the mansion itself till, passing through the side wicket with some trepidation, and onward to a point at which the drive took a turn, the house proper stood in full view. It was of recent erection—indeed almost new—and of the same rich red colour that formed such a contrast with the evergreens of the lodge
(Thomas Hardy, Tess of the d’Urbervilles, ch. 5)