For years he hung in countless homes all over the country, the symbol of gallant, rakish manhood. Now, after years of relegation to chocolate-box tops and advertisements, he seems little more than a representative of bygone bad taste.
Michael Kitson traces the Cavalier's rise to fame, in relation to Hals's work as a whole. Does he still, perhaps, deserve a little more respect than we allow him?

[Repeat]