raid that something unpleasant must have happened, though he can't
think what the matter can be. But _he_, one feels sure, would never have
lifted up his hand against a woman, unless she had richly deserved it on
the strictest patriotic scores, as in the case of Helen, when his mamma
fortunately interfered. On the other hand, Lancelot was "of the Asra who
die when they love" and love till they die--nay, who would die if they
did not love. But it is certain (for there is a very nice miniature of
it reproduced from the MS. in M. Paulin Paris's abstract) that, for a
moment, he drew his sword on Elaine to punish the deceit which made him
unwittingly false to Guinevere. It is very shocking, no doubt, but
exceedingly natural; and of course he did not kill or even (like
Philaster) wound her, though nobody interfered to prevent him. Many of
the incidents which bring out his character are well known to moderns by
poem and picture, though others, as well worth knowing, are not. But the
human contrasts of success and failure, of merit and sin, have never, I
think, been quite brought out, and to bring them out completely here
would take too much room. We may perhaps leave this other--quite
other--"_First_ Gentleman in Europe" with the remark that Chrestien de
Troyes gives only one side of him, and therefore does not give him at
all. The Lancelot of board and bower, of travel and tournament, he does
very fairly. But of the Lancelot of the woods and the hermitage, of the
dream at the foot of the cross, of the mystic voyage and the just
failing (if failing) effort of Carbonek, he gives, because he knows,
nothing.

[Sidenote: Guinevere.]

Completed as he was, no matter for the moment by whom, he is thus the
first hero of romance and nearly the greatest; but his lady is worthy of
him, and she is almost more original as an individual. It is true that
she is not the first heroine, as he is, if not altogether, almost the
first hero. Helen was that, though very imperfectly revealed and
gingerly handled. Calypso (hardly Circe) _might_ have been. Medea is
perhaps nearer still, especially in Apollonius. But the Greek romancers
were the first who had really busied themselves with the heroine: they
took her up seriously and gave her a considerable position. But they did
not succeed in giving her much character. The naughty _not_-heroine of
Achilles Tatius, though she has less than none in Mr. Pope's supposed
innuendo sense, alone has an approac