l
be so," but she said it so low that the Childe heard her
not.

[_Here follows (with a very little surplusage removed
perhaps) the scene which Dante has made world-famous, but
which Malory (I think for reasons) has "cut." I trust it is
neither Philistinism nor perversity which makes me think of
it a little, though only a little, less highly than some
have done. There is (and after all this makes it all the
more interesting for us historians) the least little bit of
anticipation of_ Marivaudage _about it, and less of the
adorable simplicity such as that (a little subsequent to the
last extract given) where Lancelot, having forgotten to take
leave of the Queen on going to his first adventure, and
having returned to do so, kneels to her, receives her hand
to raise him from the ground, "and much was his joy to feel
it bare in his." But the beauty of what follows is
incontestable, and that Guinevere was "exceeding wise in
love" is certain._]

[Sidenote: The scene of the kiss.]

"Ha!" said she then, "I know who you are--Lancelot of the
Lake is your name." And he was silent. "They know it at
court," said she, "this sometime. Messire Gawain was the
first to bring your name there...." Then she asked him why
he had allowed the worst man in the world to lead him by
the bridle. "Lady," said he, "as one who had command neither
of his heart nor of his body." "Now tell me," said she,
"were you at last year's assembly?" "Yes, Lady," said he.
"And what arms did you bear?" "Lady, they were all of
vermilion." "By my head," said she, "you say true. And why
did you do such deeds at the meeting the day before
yesterday?" Then he began to sigh very very deeply. And the
Queen cut him short as well, knowing how it was with him.

"Tell me," she said, "plainly, how it is. I will never
betray you. But I know that you did it for some lady. Now,
tell me, by the faith you owe me, who she is." "Ah, Lady,"
said he, "I see well that it behoves me to speak. Lady, it
is you." "I!" said she. "It was not for me you took the
spears that my maiden brought you. For I took care to put
myself out of the commission." "Lady," said he, "I did for
others what I ought, and for you what I could." "Tell me,
then, for whom have you done all the things that you