"He loved chivalrye, Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisye. And of his port as meek as is a mayde, He never yet no vileinye ne sayde In al his lyf, unto no maner wight. He was a verray parfit gentil knyght." The Cabell case belongs to comedy in the grand manner. For fifteen years or more the man wrote and wrote--good stuff, sound stuff, extremely original stuff, often superbly fine stuff--and yet no one in the whole of this vast and incomparable Republic arose to his merit--no one, that is, save a few encapsulated enthusiasts, chiefly somewhat dubious. It would be difficult to imagine a first-rate artist cloaked in greater obscurity, even in the remotest lands of Ghengis Khan. The newspa…
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