Hearken again, fair friends, to a tale perhaps less grievous than that of dear Meriaduc. Bend close, then, and hear of the brave knight, Sir Lanval, and his lovely faery friend.
Now, as you might know, good King Arthur kept Sir Lanval in his employ. Though Lanval was of a royal lineage and noble in demeanor and acts, he hailed from a faraway land and was little known in Breton. One day King Arthur thought to put on a banquet for his knights to do them honor, and he awarded a great many titles and trophies and the like, and the event was lavishly grand. But the good King had forgotten his loyal knight, Sir Lanval, and the man in his sorrow spent the afternoon of the banquet out riding alone, finally stopping to rest in a grassy meadow.
He lay down among the grasses while his horse grazed, but in his melancholy he mightn't sleep. Lifting his eyes, dear Lanval glimpsed two sweetest maidens approaching, so he rose and greeted them most chivalrously. Never before had his eyes beheld such loveliness as these two possessed.
"Accompany us," said the elder of the maidens, "to our mistress, for she has traveled far to seek you and eagerly awaits your company."
Curious, brave Lanval did follow them, and they led him to a silken tent resembling a fluttering castle. Inside, a lady fair as snow reclined on her couch, her beautiful visage turned graciously toward him. Now, dear listeners, you must understand that this beautiful woman was, in fact, a faery, and the most beautiful of all the faeries at that. As such, she was indeed the loveliest creature who had deigned to step foot upon this humble earth, and no living being surpassed her in face nor figure. Lanval fell immediately to kneel in her service.
"Arise, dear knight," spake the lady, "for 'tis you whom I sought. I am come for this purpose alone: to offer you my love and friendship, if you would have it. I have seen how you are mistreated in the Court, but I know of your heart, and your goodness bade me come."
Pressing his lips to the fair lady's hand, Lanval rapturously offered up the whole of his love, body and soul, and expressed his immeasurable joy at such a privilege. The two spent the day together, and before dear Lanval was obligated to leave her side, the faery confided two promises in him which swelled his breast in happiness. The first was that our dear knight, having been nearly reduced to poverty at the hands of his mistreatment in the King's service, should never again find his purse empty, no matter the sum he might choose to spend. The second, and this the greater joy, was that he might seek his fair friend at any time and she should appear; or should he speak to her, he would hear her melodic voice answer in his ears.
There was but one condition, and if you know much about the faery folk, dear friends, you will have already guessed it. As the faeries are a private people, the lady bid Lanval never to tell of her to anyone, nor speak of their love. Happily he acquiesced, then she dressed him in a fine raiment and he departed.
Now Lanval, being a good-hearted and generous man, elected to spend from his bottomless pouch for the benefit of all, such that nary a traveler found himself without lodging, nary a captive without ransom, and nary a troubled man without help in all the city. Lanval's heart was full of love and purpose, and oft he called upon his sweet friend to while away their time by basking in one another's presence.
Some weeks later the other knights held a celebration, and good Sir Gawain admonished the others for having excluded Lanval from prior festivities,;thus they invited him. In a garden 'neath the window of Queen Guinevere, the knights enjoyed music and revelry, but Sir Lanval caught the Queen's eye, and she descended to catch him alone.
"Long have I admired you, dearest Lanval," she confessed, "Be mine, and I shall show you the love of a Queen."
Good Lanval rebuffed her request, citing his loyalty to the King. Enraged, Guinevere harassed him, insulting him and accusing him variously.
"You do not know, then, how to love a woman," she cried, "or perhaps women do not catch your fancy at all!"
Sir Lanval, angered by her brazenness, boasted that he already loved a woman so beautiful and good that her lowliest handmaid might cause the Queen to appear as naught but a hag. Immediately, he realized his error and fled, but the Queen went weepingly to her husband, claiming that Lanval had attempted to seduce her, and at her rejection had damaged her pride by claiming he had a lover more beautiful than she.
Furious, King Arthur brought Lanval before the court, and despite the many testimonies to his goodness, Lanval was despondent. The King set a date for trial, declaring that if Lanval could not prove the existence and beauty of this mysterious lover, he should be banished from the land forevermore for making adulterous advancements upon the Queen and injuring her pride so terribly.
Lanval despaired, knowing that his beloved would never come to him again, and none of the other knights could console him.
On the day of the trial, Lanval hung his head low, but a procession began through the town. Several pairs of beautiful ladies appeared, each bidding the King prepare a room for their noble mistress. Finally, Lanval's fair friend revealed herself, and all confessed that her beauty far exceeded that of the Queen, as did that of many of her handmaidens.
"Despite his hasty words," her voice rang, "Sir Lanval has my heart." And she bore him off on her steed toward Avalon.
*Author's Note:
This is a retelling of the Lay of Sir Lanval by Marie de France, though told through the voice of a minstrel and with a few minor changes. This story is far more similar to its original than the adaptation of the Lay of Guigemar found on the previous page, for this reason: my aim in these retellings is to examine the presence of adultery in the Lais of Marie de France with a modern ethical perspective, and in this lay that standard was already mostly met. In the original Lay of Guigemar, adultery is celebrated and encouraged; in the original Lay of Sir Lanval, the Queen's offer to engage in a love affair with Lanval is rebuked, and the Queen is ultimately punished through the loss of her pride and honor. The space I had in which to write this story was quite limited, and I was unable to place the emphasis I wanted on the ending, so I will elaborate slightly here: in the ending of the original Lay, the time for the court and trial is much more drawn out. During this time, as the faery lady's handmaidens begin to arrive, many of the King's court mention that even these women are so lovely as to outdo the Queen, and when the faery finally does arrive, every man, young and old alike, in the entire city comes to gaze upon her beauty. Even Arthur must admit that she is more beautiful than Guinevere (he even tries to persuade her to stay for awhile and visit, which she refuses). Ultimately, Guinevere is placed in ridicule by the proceedings, which is presented as due justice for her actions.
In this retelling, I wanted to focus also on the moral code of the man who denies the attempt at adultery, which is why I devoted more space to detailing his relationship with the faery lady and to his altruism with the money she grants him. While in the Lay of Guigemar Marie de France portrays adultery as good or acceptable because the lady's husband is "bad" by her standards and is not the lady's true love, here it is presented as wrong because Lanval's lady is good/kind/generous, and is Lanval's true love. By placing these two stories side by side, I hope to highlight this duplicity in the ideals of courtly love, which was the driving principle behind much of Marie de France's work.
Source story: "The Lay of Sir Launfal" from Lays of Marie de France and Other French Legends, translated by Eugene Mason (1911). Web Source.