THE STORY OF CANACÉ AND THE THREE BROTHERS
There was a great lady in Fairyland, Agapé by name, who had three sons,
born all of them at one birth; and the names of the three were Priamond,
Diamond, and Triamond. Also she had a daughter, Cambina by name. Now the
Lady Agapé greatly desired to know how long her sons should live, for
they, having a mortal for their father, must needs die some day, whereas
she, being of fairy race, was immortal. Having, therefore, this thought
in her mind, she made her way to the place where the three Fates sit by
the distaff spinning the lines of Life. One sister draws out the thread,
and another turns the spindle, and yet another, sitting by with the
shears in her hand, cuts the thread when the due time is come. Deep in
the hidden places of the earth was the dwelling of the three, and the
way thereto was dark and hard to find; but Agapé had in her heart all
the wisdom of Fairyland, nor did she fail to accomplish her purpose.
When she had come to the place she sat awhile, and watched the sisters
at their work. At last, having seen all that they did, she declared why
she had come: “I have three sons,” she said, “mortal men, though I
myself am immortal; and I greatly desire to know how long they will
live.” One of the sisters, she that held the shears, was very angry when
she heard these words: “You have done ill,” she said, “in coming here on
this errand. These things are not for anyone, mortal or immortal, to
know. You deserve to be smitten with the Curse of Jupiter—you and your
children with you.”
[Illustration: Agapé approaching the Dwelling of the Fates.]
Agapé was greatly frightened at these words. Still she held to her
purpose, and with many prayers and entreaties prevailed upon her that
held the spindle, for she was less hard of heart than the sister who
held the shears, to show her the threads of the three youths. When she
saw them she cried, “I pray you draw them out longer and of a stouter
thread.”
“Nay,” said the sister, “think you, O foolish one, that the purposes of
the Fates may be changed as are the purposes of men? It is not so; what
they decree stands fast for ever; the gods may not move it by one
hair’s-breadth, no, nor the ruler of the gods himself.”
Then answered Agapé: “If this be so, if you cannot add one jot to the
thread of any man’s life, still there is a boon which you can give me. I
see the thread of my eldest son, and it is, I perceive, the shortest of
the three. Grant that when it is cut with the shears, it may be added to
the thread of the second, and that in like manner when the thread of the
second is cut, it may be joined to the third. So shall he have a treble
portion, and yet the whole shall not have been increased.”
The sisters said, “This shall be so.” Thereupon the Lady Agapé departed
to her own home. She told her sons nothing of this journey which she had
taken, or of the things which she had seen and heard, or of the boon
which had been granted to her in the matter of their lives. But she said
to them, not at that time only, but after, whenever she could find
occasion: “O my sons, be careful and walk in safe ways; but, above all
things, love one another, whatever may befall.” And this they did all
their lives. Never was there any strife between them, but only great
friendship and concord, of which the most signal proof is now to be
told.
There was a fair lady in those parts, Canacé by name, who was wiser than
all the women of her day. She knew all the powers of nature, and could
see beforehand the things that should come to pass, and knew the speech
of beasts and birds. And as she was wise above all others, so also did
she excel in goodness. To these things she added also a singular beauty,
so that many lords and knights of the land came to woo her. To these she
bare herself rightly courteously, but favoured none, no, not so much as
by a word or a look. But it came to pass, as is the way in such matters,
that the more she held herself aloof, the more eagerly did these lords
and knights urge their suit upon her. And not a few quarrels came about
on her account, one suitor meeting another in battle. Now this Canacé
had a brother, Cambell by name, as brave and stout a knight as ever
lived. And he, seeing that great mischief might arise out of these
quarrels concerning his sister, caused all her wooers to come together,
and made this proclamation among them:
“Ye Lords and Knights that seek my sister Canacé in marriage, choose now
from among yourselves the three whom you judge to be the boldest and
most skilful in battle among you, and let them meet me in combat, man by
man, and it shall be that whosoever of the three shall prevail over me
shall have my sister to wife.”
Now this Cambell was, as has been already said, a brave knight and a
stout; yet for all his strength and courage he had scarcely dared to
stand up in this fashion against so many. For, indeed, it might well
come to pass, such are the chances of battle, that one or other might
prevail over him, not being the better man, but by reason of some
accident. But there was that which encouraged him to dare so much, to
wit, a magic ring which his sister had given him. It was a ring of many
virtues, but the chief of them all was this, that if he who wore it
should be wounded, this ring straightway staunched the bleeding.
Now this matter of the magic ring and its marvellous virtues was known
to all, and the suitors of the Lady Canacé were, for the most part,
terrified by it, so that they would not venture on the battle. “Fair she
is without doubt,” they said, “but it would be a fool’s part to venture
life even for her.” Nevertheless there were three among them who were
not of this way of thinking, and these three were the brothers Priamond,
Diamond, and Triamond. They all loved the Princess, and yet, so
brotherly were they in heart and mind, that there was not a thought of
anger or jealousy among them. “Let her choose,” said they, “between us,
and we will be content with her choice. Or, if the judgment be left to
the sword, then let him be preferred who shall overcome this her brother
Cambell.”
So the three addressed themselves to the battle in the order of their
age. First came Priamond, the eldest, a stout knight to hold his place,
but he was not so strong to strike as are some. He loved to fight on
foot, and his arms were the spear and the battle-axe. Next to him was
Diamond; he was one to deal mighty blows, but he was not so good in
holding his ground. Whether he were on horseback or on foot he cared
not, so that he had his battle-axe in hand, for with this he loved to
fight. Last of all came Triamond. There was no man better than he,
whether to stand or to strike; the fight on horseback pleased him best,
and his arms were spear and shield.
On a set day the lists were prepared. Barriers were made to keep off the
press of the people. At one end sat six judges, who should see that all
things were done decently and in order, and that neither this warrior
nor that should take undue advantage; and at the other was set the fair
Canacé on a stage, that she might see the battle and herself be seen.
The first that came into the lists was Sir Cambell. Noble was his mien
and assured his look, as of one that knew certainly that he should
prevail. After him advanced the three brothers, bravely attired and
shining in arms, each with his banner borne before him. Thrice did they
bow themselves before the fair Canacé, and then a blast of the trumpet
gave the signal for battle.
First of the three to meet Sir Cambell came Priamond; well skilled in
arms were the two, and for long they fought without advantage to one or
the other. Mighty the blows that they dealt, but both had watchful eyes
and ready skill to turn the deadliest stroke aside. The first gain fell
to Sir Priamond, for his spear, whether by good fortune or by skill it
were hard to say, passed by his adversary’s shield and pierced the
shoulder where a joint of the armour gave it access. Deep was the wound,
and though no blood flowed therefrom—such was the virtue of the magic
ring—it stung the warrior to the quick with keenest pain. There are
whose spirit is quelled with pain; but Sir Cambell was not of these. The
smart did but rouse his courage to the utmost, and put new strength into
his arm. Straightway he drave his spear close underneath Sir Priamond’s
shield and smote him on the thigh. The coat of mail did not stay it, but
that it made a grisly wound, and the stout knight tottered with the
blow, even as an old oak, withered and sapless, rocks with every blast
of the wind. Nor did Cambell fail to use the occasion. He smote him yet
again upon the side, making another deadly wound, and though the spear
brake with the blow, he did not abate his onset, but drave the shaft
through the visor of Sir Priamond’s helmet, and laid him low upon the
ground. So fell the first of the three brothers; yet did not his soul
depart, but by virtue of the gift of the Fates it passed into the bodies
of the two that yet remained, making them stronger and more eager for
the fray.
Nevertheless, when Sir Diamond addressed himself to the battle, the
lists having been cleared afresh, and the trumpet sounded a second time,
he fared no better than his brother. For a while the two stood face to
face, giving and receiving equal blows, but without advantage either to
the one or to the other. But then a great gust of wrath swept through
Sir Diamond’s soul, driving away all thought but of how he might most
speedily avenge his brother. And, indeed, the very soul of the brother
stirred within him. So he lifted high his mighty battle-axe, swinging it
over his head, and bringing it down on his adversary with all the force
that was in his body. And, surely, had the blow fallen as it was meant,
there had been an end of strife. No magic ring had availed to stay so
dreadful an onset. It had crushed out Sir Cambell’s life, whether with
or without the shedding of blood. But fortune helped him in his need,
for judging where the axe would fall, he swerved aside, so that the
stroke missed the mark, and the striker’s right foot slid from under
him. So we may see a hawk strike at a heron with all his might; so
strong is the blow, that it would seem as if nothing could turn it
aside; but the heron, a wary bird, sees it come, and lightly avoids it,
so that the hawk is well-nigh brought to the ground ere the force of his
onset is sped. So fared it with Sir Diamond; not only so, but while he
reached forward with his left arm to recover himself, he left his side
unguarded by the shield. Which thing Sir Cambell did not fail to
perceive, for swinging his axe, he smote him between the topmost rings
of the coat of mail and the lowest rings of the helmet, which spot is
ever dangerous to the warrior, how well soever he be armed. There did
Sir Cambell smite Sir Diamond, with an arm so sure and deadly that he
shore his head from his body.
And now ensued the fiercest fight of all, yea, and also the strangest.
Well might a man wonder to see how Sir Cambell stood up, neither faint
nor weary, for all that he had been changing blows for the space of an
hour and more. Yet did he seem even fresher and brighter than at his
first taking of arms, just as some great serpent wakes from the long
sleep of winter, when the warm breath of spring has touched him, and
throws off the ragged skin of his old estate, and raises himself in the
sunshine with all the glory of his youth renewed. Such freshness and
vigour did the magic ring work in calling out all the strength that he
had, for all the magic in the world had not availed to help a coward or
a sluggard. Against him stood a worthy foe, with the might of three
stout champions in his heart and in his limbs. Once and again, yea, many
times, did it seem that this or that warrior had prevailed. Now was
Cambell beaten to his knee, till all the company thought he must needs
lose the day, and now was Triamond stretched upon the ground, like to
one who has received a mortal wound. And once, indeed, the two lay
together at full length, as though they had been dead. The judges rose
from their place, and the marshals of the lists came forward as to carry
the two corpses to the appointed place, and the fair Canacé cried out in
her despair, for it seemed as if both brother and lover had been taken
from her at once. But lo! in a moment the two were standing on their
feet again, and addressing themselves anew to the battle. What had been
the end, whether the virtue of the magic ring had overcome the triple
might of him in whom dwelt the spirits of three brave men, who can say?
For now there was heard such a clamour, such a confusion of voices, such
a shouting of men and wailing of women and shrill crying of children,
that all turned their faces to look, and the two champions by common
consent stayed their hands till they could see what strange things had
happened. And, indeed, it was a marvellous sight that they saw. There
came speeding along the ground, fast as a thunder-cloud that rides the
sky, a chariot richly adorned with gold and purple in the Persian
fashion. Two lions from the forest drew it, mighty beasts, such as could
not be surpassed for strength and fierceness in any land, but now they
had forgotten their savageness to obey the pleasure of their driver. And
this was a lady of wonderful beauty, and not less wise than fair, for
she had been taught all the arts of wholesome magic by the fairy, her
mother. In her right hand she carried a wand with two serpents twined
about it, and in her left a cup filled to the brim with nepenthe, the
wondrous drink of which he that tastes straightway forgets all grief and
anger and care.
This was the Lady Cambina, daughter of Agapé, and sister to Sir
Triamond, and she, knowing by her art in what deadly peril her dear
brother stood, came to his help. All the people made a way for her to
pass, so that she could approach the lists. These first she struck with
her wand, and they fell at the stroke. Then she said to the two
champions, “Cease now your strife and be at peace.” And when they would
not hear, but made as if to renew the battle, she cast herself upon her
knees and besought them with many prayers and tears to cease from their
anger; and when they still hardened their hearts, she smote them lightly
with her wand. So soon as they felt the touch, the swords dropped from
their hands. Then, as they stood astonished, not knowing what had
befallen them, she gave the cup first to one and then to the other; and
they, as being consumed by mighty thirst, drank each a mighty draught.
Straightway the magic liquor turned all their strife to love; they
clasped hands, and plighted troth to each other, and swore that they
would be friends for ever. And such indeed they were to the end of their
days; ay, and Cambell took to wife Cambina, and Triamond wedded the fair
Canacé.