The masque was therefore one of the highest intellectual delights of an intellectual age. Whilst Jonson composed the dialogues, in which “the soundest moral lessons came recommended by the charm of numbers,” the chief artists of the realm were employed in decorative scenery, the construction of which was at its climax in the time of James. Lawes, and other noted composers, set the songs to music; the masque was the courtly recreation of gallant gentlemen, and ladies of honour, striving to exceed one another in their measures and changes, and in their repasts of wit. Notwithstanding the efforts of Inigo Jones, under whose guidance many of the accompaniments were framed to preserve it, and those of Aurelius Townshend, the masque fell again into the pageant and masquerade after the death of James, and, in spite of an effort made by Charles II. to revive it, ceased to exist. The “Vision of Delight,” one of the most fanciful and beautiful of Jonson’s masques, was performed on Twelfth Night, and the expenses of the representation were defrayed by Buckingham. It was to celebrate his new dignity as a Marquis, to which James had resolved to elevate him, that the following lines, spoken by Delight, seen afar off, with his attendants, Grace, Love, Harmony, Revel, Sport, Laughter, and followed by Wonder, were composed, and sung in a recitative solo:— “Let us play, and dance, and sing, Let us now turn every sort Of the pleasures of the Spring To the graces of a court. From air, from cloud, from dreams, from toys, To sounds, to sense, to love, to joys; Let your shows be new, as strange, Let them oft and sweetly vary, Let them haste to their change, As the seers may not tarry; Too long to expect the pleasing’st sight, Doth take away from the delight.” The “Vision” concluded with a dance of ladies, in which Aurora appeared, and this epilogue followed:— _Aurora._ “I was not wearier when I lay By frozen Tithon’s side to-night, Than I am willing now to stay, And be a part of your delight; But I am urged by the day, Against my will, to bid you come away.”[219] Footnote 219: Ben Jonson’s Works. At this masque Buckingham acted, and assumed his place as a Marquis, taking, it appears, a precedence to which he was not entitled. “It is thought strange,” Levingston wrote to Carleton, “amongst the old lords that he should take precedence of them.”[220] Footnote 220: Calendar of State Papers, vol. cv., 4.