In the following reign the masque became a highly beautiful and exquisite entertainment, encouraged by the fine taste of Charles I., and aided by such cultured men as Buckingham, Jonson, Lawes the musician, and Inigo Jones. The masque at this period was produced at an enormous outlay, and one presented at Whitehall by the Inns of Court in the year 1633 cost the prodigious sum of £21,000. In the masque of “The Night and the Hours,” the first scene represented a double valley, one side with dark clouds hanging before it, on the other a green vale, with trees, nine of which were covered with gold, and were fifteen feet high. From this grove towards the “state,” or seat of the King, extended a dancing-place, with the bower of Flora on the right, and the house of Night on the left. The bower of Flora was decorated with flowers and leafy branches, whilst Night appears in her house, “her long black hair spangled with gold, amidst her hours, their faces black, and each bearing a lighted black torch.” On another occasion the Lords’ masque was performed, which was also divided into two parts, the lower being first discovered, in which there was seen a wood in perspective; and on the sudden fall of a curtain there appeared a heaven of clouds of all hues, whilst from a bright and transparent cloud eight maskers descended with the music of a full song. On reaching the ground the cloud broke in twain, and, after the manner of a transformation scene, a series of changes took place. With these gorgeous entertainments was usually presented the anti-masque, a humorous parody of the more solemn show. And to the popularity of this species of exhibition we owe Milton’s “Comus and Arcades.”[74] During the reign of Charles II. masquerading was the rage, and it is recorded how the King and Queen and all the courtiers went about masked, and so completely disguised that no one, unless in the secret, could distinguish them. They were carried about in hackney-chairs, entered houses where merry-makings were going on, and danced about with the wildest frolic. On one occasion the Queen got separated from her party, and her chairmen, not knowing her, went away. Much frightened, she returned to Whitehall in a hackney-coach, or, according to some authorities, in a cart. The Earl of Manchester--the Lord Chamberlain--well aware that she was surrounded by spies who were ready to make the most of the slightest indiscretion on her part, did not hesitate to tell her that “it was neither decent nor safe for her to go about as she had done of late.” The Duke of Buckingham seriously proposed to Charles that in some nocturnal frolic they should carry the Queen off, and send her to the plantations, to which, according to Burnet, the King would have had no objection had she retired voluntarily into a convent.