ONE OF the more obscure(d) early clown traditions emerges, to begin with one extraordinary instance, in an account from the court of Elizabeth I. It can be dated to April of 1566, when signs of strain appeared in the relationship between Elizabeth I and her longtime visitor, Princess Cecilia of Sweden. Once a favorite at the English court, Cecilia had overstayed her welcome during an extended visit (through her extravagant free-loading), and had abruptly left the country to rejoin her husband. She was unwilling to accept any blame for the rift, however, and presented a retaliatory list of complaints to her brother John, newly become Swedish king, who then forwarded it to Queen Elizabeth's secretary Cecil. More than its revelation of fractured diplomatic relations, and especially since political power is not really my interest in this study, by far the most striking grievance here is Cecilia's statement that, “beinge bydden to see a comedye played, there was a blackeman brought in, … full of leawde, spitfull, and skornfull words which she said did represent…her husband.” Certainly, this reference to a comic depiction of a “blackeman,” apparently “represent[ed]” by an actor in blackface, raises a number of questions, e.g., Why should Cecilia's husband have been represented as black at all? Or, at least, why would she think that he had been? Was blackface a mechanism for ridicule?