4 Marie de France "Lanval"

  • The adventure of another lay,
  • Just as it happened, I’ll relay:
  • It tells of a very nice nobleman,
  • And it’s called Lanval in Breton.
  • King Arthur was staying at Carduel–
  • That King of valiant and courtly estate–
  • His borders there he guarded well
  • Against the Pict, against the Scot,
  • Who’d cross into Logres to devastate
  • The countryside often, and a lot.
  • He held court there at Pentecost,
  • The summer feast we call Whitsun,
  • Giving gifts of impressive cost
  • To every count and each baron
  • And all knights of the Round Table.
  • Never elsewhere so many, such able
  • Knights assembled! Women and land
  • He shared out with generous hand
  • To all but one who’d served. Lanval
  • He forgot: no man helped his recall.
  • For being brave and generous,
  • For his beauty and his prowess,
  • He was envied by all the court;
  • Those who claimed to hold him dear,
  • If Fortune had brought him up short,
  • Would not have shed a kindly tear.
  • A king’s son, he’d a noble lineage,
  • But now, far from his heritage,
  • He’d joined the household of the King.
  • He’d spent all the money he could bring
  • Already. The King gave him no more–
  • He gave just what Lanval asked for.
  • Now Lanval knows not what to do;
  • He’s very thoughtful, very sad.
  • My lords, I don’t astonish you:
  • A man alone, with no counsel–or bad–
  • A stranger in a strange land
  • Is sad, when no help’s at hand.
  • It was that year (I think I can say)
  • After St. John’s or Midsummer’s Day,
  • Some thirty knights–knighthood’s flower–
  • Went out to do some playing
  • In the orchard near the tower
  • Where Queen Guinevere was staying;
  • Among these knights was Gawain,
  • And his cousin, handsome Yvain.
  • Gawain said (valiant, frank and free,
  • The love of every man held he),
  • “In God’s name, my lords, we sin
  • Against Lanval, our companion,
  • So courtly and generous in everything–
  • And his father’s a wealthy king–
  • He should be here; we’ve done him wrong.”
  • Right away they all turned back;
  • To his hostel they followed the track,
  • And begged Lanval to come along.
  • At a window, framed in stone,
  • The Queen leaned out–not alone,
  • But with three ladies. Lo and behold,
  • She spotted the knights of the King’s household.
  • She recognized, and stared at, Lanval.
  • She gave one of her ladies a call.
  • She wants a group of maidens collected,
  • For beauty and manners they’re selected,
  • To stroll and play with the Queen
  • In the orchard, where the knights were seen.
  • Thirty girls she leads, or more.
  • Down the steps and out the door.
  • Here to meet them come the knights,
  • Greatly gladdened by such sights.
  • Hand-in-hand, their conversations
  • Are free of low-class intimations.
  • Lanval goes off all alone,
  • Far from the others; for his own
  • Friend he just can’t wait–not much–
  • For her kiss, her embrace, her touch.
  • Little he cares about others’ delight
  • When he can’t enjoy his own!
  • The Queen saw him go off alone,
  • And she headed straight for that knight.
  • She sat near him, she called him over,
  • She spoke as her heart would move her:
  • “Lanval, I really do respect you,
  • I really care, I really love,
  • And you can have all my love.
  • Tell me what you want! I expect you
  • Must be happy at what I say.
  • I’m offering to go all the way.”
  • “Lady,” he said, “Let me go!
  • I never thought to love you so!
  • I’ve served the King for many a day;
  • His faith in me I won’t betray.
  • Not for you, your love, or anything
  • Would I ever act against my King!”
  • The Queen’s heart filled with anger;
  • Furious, she spoke a slander:
  • “Lanval,” she said, “I think they’re right.
  • You don’t care much for such delight;
  • People have told me again and again
  • That women offer you no pleasure–
  • With a few well-schooled young men
  • You prefer to pass your leisure.
  • Peasant coward, faithless sinner,
  • My lord the King is hardly the winner
  • In letting your sort hang around;
  • He’s losing God’s own grace, I’ve found!”
  • Lanval is anguished by these lies;
  • Quickly the accused replies.
  • He says a thing, in that angry moment,
  • Of which he’ll many times repent.
  • “My lady: That job–don’t doubt it,
  • I wouldn’t know how to go about it.
  • But I do love–I alone love
  • A lady who’d win the prize
  • Over all women I’ve known of.
  • And I’ll tell you this, without disguise,
  • Just because you need to know:
  • Her serving maids, a poor or low
  • One, even, the poorest in her train,
  • Is better than you are, Lady Queen:
  • In beauty of body and of face,
  • In goodness and in well-bred grace.”
  • Away now went the Queen,
  • Up to her room, all crying.
  • Pain and anger drove her wild–
  • She’d been insulted and reviled.
  • Sick with it, she took to her bed.
  • Never would she get up, she said,
  • Unless the King her complaint oversaw,
  • And gave her justice according to law.
  • The King had just come home from the wood;
  • His day’s hunting had been good.
  • He went into the Queen’s chamber.
  • She cried out, loud, when first she
  • Saw him, fell at his feet, begged mercy,
  • Accused Lanval–he had shamed her!
  • He’d asked her for a love-affair,
  • She’d said no, with this result:
  • He’d offered her an ugly insult.
  • He boasted of a friend so fair,
  • So full of pride, breeding, honor,
  • That the chambermaid who waited on her–
  • The lowliest, poorest of the poor–
  • Compared to the Queen, was worth far more.
  • The King was angry, to the core.
  • His oath against Lanval he swore:
  • In court he’d prove he was no liar,
  • Or else he’d hang, or die by fire.
  • The lady rides in at the palace door,
  • Lovelier than any, since or before,
  • To come there. Up to the King she rides,
  • And dismounts, so she can be seen from all sides.
  • She drops her cloak upon the floor,
  • So that they all can see her more.
  • The King, well-bred and most polite,
  • Stands up to meet her, as is right.
  • The others, after they observe her,
  • Crowd up to honor her and serve her.
  • Once they’ve all tired out their eyes,
  • And praised her beauty to the skies,
  • She began to have her say there,
  • For she didn’t want to stay there:
  • O King, I have loved your vassal,
  • This one, here! I mean Lanval.
  • In your court he’s accused of crime.
  • I didn’t want him to have a bad time
  • For what he said; all along,
  • You know, the Queen was in the wrong;
  • He never asked anything of her.
  • As for his boasting of his lover,
  • If the law’s satisfied by what you see,
  • May your barons set him free!”
  • The King approves in advance
  • Any judgement the barons make.
  • They decide–and it doesn’t take
  • Long–Lanval’s made the perfect defense.
  • He is freed by their verdict,
  • And the maiden makes her exit.
  • The King can’t keep her there at all;
  • She has enough servants of her own.
  • There was set, outside the hall
  • A great dark marble mounting-stone,
  • For an armed knight to climb on his horse,
  • When from the castle he set his course.
  • Lanval had climbed up there to wait.
  • When the maiden came out the gate,
  • Lanval made his leap, at full speed,
  • Up behind her, onto her steed.
  • With her he’s gone to Avalon–
  • Or so say the poets in Breton–
  • To the fair island far away
  • She ravished that noble youth;
  • No-one can say any more with truth,
  • And I have no more to tell of this lay.
  • Source:

    De France, Marie. “Sir Launfal.” Guingamor, Lanval, Tyolet, Le Bisclaveret: Four Lais Rendered into English Prose from the French of Marie De France and Others. Trans. Jessie L. Weston. London: David Nutt, 1910. HathiTrust. 30-51. Web. 12 Apr. 2016. <http://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp.39015008318621>

    License

    Icon for the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License

    Anthology of Medieval Literature Copyright © 2021 by Christian Beck is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License, except where otherwise noted.

    Share This Book