When his companions saw in what an evil plight he was, they hastened to his help, and put him on his steed, for mount himself he could not, and held him up as he rode. Ill-content he was that he had ventured so much and won so little.
After that they had journeyed awhile, they saw two knights coming towards them across the plain. When Sir Blandamour perceived them, he grieved more than ever for his late mishap, for he saw that one of them was his old enemy Sir Scudamore, knowing him to be such by the device that he wore, to wit, the god of love with his wings spread out on this side and on that. “Here,” he said to himself, “is evil fortune! Yonder is my enemy, and I am so bruised with this late encounter that I cannot do battle with him.” Then he said to Sir Paridell: “My friend, will you, of your affection, do somewhat for me, even as I have done for you? My hurts keep me back from battle, but I have just cause of enmity against yonder knight. Will you, therefore, maintain this my cause against him?”
Sir Paridell answered: “Trouble not yourself. There is a proverb that the left hand rubs the right. As you have fought for me, so will I for you.” Forthwith he laid his spear in rest, and charged, swift as an arrow from a bow. Nor was Sir Scudamore slow to make himself ready. So they met in fierce encounter, and with so great a shock, that both were driven from their saddles, and they lay stretched upon the ground. Sir Scudamore was soon on his feet again, and said to the other: “Laggard, why lie you so long?” But Sir Paridell lay tumbled in a heap, without sense or speech, all unheeding of his adversary’s reproach. Then his companion ran to him, and unlaced his helmet, and loosened his coat of mail, and so brought him back to feeling; but not a word did he speak. Then said Sir Blandamour:
“False knight, you have overcome by craft a better man than yourself. It is well for you that I am not in such good case to-day that I can avenge him.”
To this Sir Scudamore made no answer, though there was great anger in his heart. Then the false Duessa, not seeing how her ends would be served by a quarrel between these two, would have made peace between them. But, on the other hand, Até made up a fresh contention, for she turned Sir Scudamore against Amoret, slandering that true lady with false tales of how she had given her love to a stranger knight, who, indeed, was none other than Britomart. Nor was she content with this, but she made a quarrel also between Paridell and Blandamour. And the contention between these two grew so hot that they were ready to do battle with each other. What had been the end thereof none can say, but by good luck there came that way a certain squire who was well known to both, and not a little beloved by them. No easy thing was it for him to get hearing from the two, so full of fury were they. Yet, at the last, he persuaded them to stay their hands. This done, he said: “Brave knights, you ought to be at peace and not at variance. There are those that seek your harm, and you would do well to ally yourselves against them.” Thus he persuaded them to swear friendship again. So being reconciled, they pursued their journey. After a while they saw two knights and two ladies with them, and they sent on their squire to inquire who these might be. And when the squire came back to his company he said: “These are two famous knights, brave Cambell and stout Triamond; and the ladies are Cambina, who is wife to Cambell, and Canacé, who is wedded to Triamond. But would it please you, gentle sirs, to hear their story, for I know it well, and it is worth the hearing?”
Sir Blandamour answered, “Speak on.” So the squire told this tale that follows.
CHAPTER XX
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.”
Agapé approaching the Dwelling of the Fates.