An admirable item in the programme of the fancy-dress ball is the quadrille, the lancers, or the cotillon, which shall be danced by people clad in costumes of the same period, such harmony being a special pleasure to the beholder, who may nevertheless also glean some entertainment from the spectacle of the nineteenth-century Columbine hobnobbing with the fourteenth-century monk; and may no doubt get some satisfaction from the sight of Cleopatra in the arms of the Devil.
But I will linger no longer lightly in the realms of fancy dress, but penetrate the dark depths of Dominoes and Masks, leaving the many illustrations in these pages culled from the centuries to speak the last word of selection with most fluent and expressive tongue.
CHAPTER XVI
OF DOMINOES AND MASKS
Italian in conception, the domino is of ecclesiastical origin, and as such has retained its monkish aspect throughout the many changes rung by fashion. In its primitive form it consisted of a long, loose robe of black material with a cowl attachment which completely covered the head. During the middle ages, and, in fact, as late as the sixteenth century, it constituted the popular travelling costume of those engaged upon secret missions. Disguised in the habit common to the countless hordes of monks and other pious mendicants who infested the country, it was an easy matter to go, unnoticed, from end to end of Europe, the garb protecting its wearer and ensuring him immunity from criticism or inquiry.
Its serviceable shape and virtue of concealment led to the universal adoption of the domino, until it actually became as much an institution as the toga of ancient Rome. Clad in its all-enveloping folds, the hood drawn well forward and the face masked, the domino formed an ideal dress for intrigue, love adventures, conspiracy, ball, rout, procession, and evening wear in general over a gala costume. It owed its first entry into le monde où l'on s'amuse to those Venetian orgies and wild midnight revels encouraged by the Council of Ten as a means whereby the attention and energies of the youth of the capital of the Adriatic might be diverted from politics.
When the gay world made the domino its own, fashion decreed that it should retain its original shape, and this it has continued to do down to the present. The same conservatism did not extend to colour. As a matter of fact it has, at one time and another, appeared in all shades, and in every appropriate variety of texture, lined or unlined; in two or more tones, self-coloured, trimmed, or plain, sumptuous or severe, according to the tastes and inclination of the wearer. A man's domino, as typical of to-day as of five hundred years ago, consists of a long, ample robe of scarlet cashmere gathered into a plain yoke piped with satin. Three small cashmere buttons fasten it snugly from the throat downwards, and satin ribbon ties it across the chest. The peaked hood is lined with satin and weighted with a heavy silk tassel, and over the shoulders falls a short, pleated cape. Of the "angel" order, the wide, pointed sleeves are turned back to allow a narrow glimpse of satin, the fold held in place by a cord loop and a diminutive gold button sewn to the under arm seam immediately above the wrist. That the religious origin of the domino was never lost sight of is illustrated by the anecdote of the dissipated young reveller who, leaving a masked ball in the grey dawn, was met by an indignant father, who proceeded to load him with reproaches on the subject of his dissolute mode of life. After listening for some time in filial silence, the son made the witty answer:
Beati qui moriuntur in Domino.