* * * * * We now come to a personage of some celebrity, who seems to have been a court jester, without being exactly a court fool. I allude to John Heywood, of North Mimms, in Hertfordshire, whom Sir Thomas More introduced to the King as Sir William Neville did Scogan, and whose introduction was followed by similar circumstances,--his appointment as “jester” to the sovereign. More had known Heywood early. The latter was a student at what was then called Broadgate, Oxford, now Pembroke. Heywood’s spirit of fun, his humour, and his readiness at repartee made him a favourite with More, who was fond of spending leisure hours with him,--a man of whom it was said that “he had wit at will, and art was all he missed.” Heywood, moreover, was a good vocalist, and no mean instrumental player. Previous to his introduction to the King, More presented him to the lady (afterwards Queen) Mary, who found his merriment so irresistible “that it moved even her rigid muscles,” says Warton; “and her sullen solemnity was not proof against his songs, his rhymes, and his jests.” Mary, however, was more easily moved to mirth than Warton and those whose opinions were followed by him, suspected. Even in her womanhood, when we are accustomed to think of her as one solemnly severe, she could (albeit moody and melancholy at times) laugh heartily at a mountebank. In 1556, Strype speaks of her as holding a grand military review in Greenwich Park, at which “came a tumbler, and played many pretty feats, the Queen and Cardinal (Pole) looking on; whereat she was observed to laugh heartily.” Long ere she had ascended the throne, she had learned to laugh at, with, or through John Heywood. Of the latter, Warton says that “he was beloved and rewarded by Henry VIII. for his buffooneries;” and, indeed, that monarch was so satisfied with the quips of his daughter’s favourite, that, as previously stated, he named John “King’s Jester.” He seems to have been a favourite also in the mansions and at the tables of the nobility; and a specimen of his wit there is offered us by Puttenham. “The following happened,” he says, “on a time, at the Duke of Northumberland’s board, where merry John Heywood was allowed to sit at the board’s end. The Duke had a very noble and honourable mind to pay his debts well, and when he lacked money, would not stick to sell the greatest part of his plate. So had he done some few days before. “Heywood being loath to call for his drink as often as he was dry, turned his eyes towards the cupboard, and said, ‘I find a great miss of your Grace’s standing-cups.’ The Duke, thinking that he had spoken it of some knowledge that his plate was lately sold, said somewhat sharply, ‘Why, Sir, will not _these_ cups serve so good a man as yourself?’ Heywood readily replied, ‘Yes, if it please your Grace, but I would have one of them stand still at my elbow, full of drink, that I might not be driven to trouble your man so often to call for it.’