In the collections of earlier date, John Thorpe’s and Smithson’s, the bulk of the drawings may safely be attributed to Thorpe and Smithson respectively; which makes the absence of drawings by Jones all the more remarkable. And it must be remembered that although there are few architectural drawings by him there are many of other kinds, notably of the scenery for masques and of the human figure.[32] Indeed, to judge only by his drawings one would regard him as a painter rather than an architect. His surviving architectural drawings may be reckoned by dozens; those for masques, figure studies, and drapery by hundreds. His figure studies and drapery are executed with great vigour and a masterly touch. His sketches for the numerous masques, of which he designed the setting, are spontaneous and bold (Fig. 43). Many of them have an architectural character, and, needless to say, the architecture is always classic in style. There is one, however, which represents a scene near London; the wings are composed of old houses, the backcloth is a distant view of London itself with old St Paul’s as the principal feature.[33] It is interesting to see that the houses in the foreground are Jacobean in treatment, yet Jacobean with a larger infusion of classic detail than houses of the period actually exhibited. The artist’s hand instinctively sought a classic expression. [Illustration: FIG. 43.--Masque by Inigo Jones. From the Burlington-Devonshire Collection at the R.I.B.A.] Jones, indeed, designed most of the masques presented at court during the reigns of James I. and his son, and collaborated with several of the different poets who wrote the words of these fanciful plays; with Ben Jonson, Samuel Daniell, Thomas Campion, George Chapman, and Aurelian Townshend. One of his efforts was less successful than could have been wished, although it was for an occasion when expectation was particularly high--the masque on Twelfth Night 1618, when the prince was to take a part for the first time. Gossiping letters dubbed it poor, said that Inigo Jones had lost reputation, and that it was indeed so dull that the poet, Ben Jonson, ought to return to his old trade of brick making.[34]