By the ladies’ grace there lived a maker of fine cloths who had three sons. Now it so happened that this weaver suffered from a wasting disease which would one day kill him, so he established what was to be done with his fortune when he was dead, and what provision should be made for his sons. And the day came when the man died and his sons learned his will concerning the disposition of his fortune.
To the first son, who was restless, he left his sword and his horse, that his first son might travel and fight and perhaps win renown and wealth of his own.
For his second son, who was indolent, the weaver arranged a marriage with another rich and prosperous merchant with whom he had done much business in the past, that he might always be taken care of.
And to his third and youngest son, who was steadfast and hard-working, the weaver left his home and shop and all the primary workings of his craft.
And so, after the funeral of their father, the three brothers parted: the eldest to journey as he chose, the second to a life of luxury and ease, and the youngest staying where he had grown to manhood and continuing in his father’s work, though he felt he had much rather married or gone adventuring. Nevertheless, since he was indeed hard-working and steadfast, the third son flourished in his father’s trade, and for a while he was content.
But it happened on a time that, receiving from his eldest brother tidings of the great deeds he had done and the fortune he had won thereby, and from his second brother of the company he kept and the festivals he enjoyed, the young weaver became bitter, for a day, concerning his lot and the distribution of his father’s wealth. And it so happened that he had, that very morning, spread over the roof of his shop a fine length of colorful cloth to tempt the passersby inside. And, though a storm blew up from the ocean and the wind was strong, in his bitterness he gave little heed. But when the storm caught up the cloth and blew it away, the weaver repented his mood and went forth to chase after it, for it was very valuable.
And he came to a lake, and beside it a tall tree that he could not climb standing alone, wherein the cloth had become entangled. And as he gazed up at it in despair, a paruseji appeared at his side and asked, “What do you look for in the tree?”
And the weaver replied, “My length of fine cloth, which has been blown there by the storm.”
Then seeing the distress of the young man, the paruseji took up a swan that sailed upon the water, and took its wings, saying, “Take this and fly, and recover what you have lost.”
So the weaver, taking the wings, straightaway joined them to his own back and flew. And when he had recovered the length of cloth, he thanked the paruseji with great honor. And the paruseji said, “I leave these wings in your keeping for the time while I need them not, and may they aid you… Only be ready to yield them up when we meet again.”
The weaver agreed that it should be so, and they parted.
And now he found that so unusual was he, with his great swan’s wings, that folk would come from far and wide to see him. Often it chanced that they would buy his wares simply for the novelty of it, so that whatsoever effort he put into his craft was sufficient because the quality was of no concern to his buyers. But the people of his own town shook their heads, and went to another town to buy their cloth.
So the merchant prospered for some time, and felt that his life was good. It transpired, however, that the paruseji appeared one day and requested the return of his wings. The weaver knew that to give up his wings was to give up his unusual prosperity, and also he had grown pleased with them and the ability of flight that they bestowed. Nevertheless, as he had promised so would he do, and accordingly he returned to the paruseji the wings.
And the paruseji said, “As it happens, I am in need of a length of fine blue silk. And though I must take these wings from you, I would do you a service and make my purchase here.”
And the merchant, thinking on his manner of business since he had first obtained the wings, hung his head and said in shame, “I have nothing fine enough for you.”
So the paruseji took his departure.
Now again was required of the merchant the care and activity for his work he had shown prior to the time when he had wings, and for this he had been prepared in his mind. But he found also that his legs, through absence of use as he traveled rather by flight, had become crippled. So his work was now harder than ever it had been. Indeed, in order for him to produce the quality of goods that had once been his wont, he was forced to work twice as hard as before. And so he spent his days in great weariness and toil, lamenting bitterly the hour of carelessness that had caused his troubles.
Now it so happened at about this time that the merchant’s second brother was accused by his husband of unfaithfulness, and the debate thereof came to blows, in the which the second brother, his indolent lifestyle having left him little conditioned for bodily strife, came out much the worse. Indeed, he was blinded, and fled the rich house of his husband in distress and shame. After many difficulties, he returned to the house of his father, and there was welcomed sadly by his younger brother.
Misfortune fell also upon the first brother at this time, for in his travels he had grown arrogant of his own prowess with the sword, and continually sought to do battle with opponents of greater strength. In so doing he came upon a bandit prince renowned throughout the land for his skills in combat, and challenged him to a duel. The bandit prince laughed, and easily defeated the first brother. Indeed, he cut off his hands and took from him his sword and his horse and all the riches the first brother had gained thus far through his life of adventure. And so the first brother too returned in distress and shame to the house of his father, where he too was welcomed sadly by his youngest brother.
So now there were three brothers together again working at their father’s trade of weaving, and as each was in some manner crippled the work was tiring and difficult. But they managed, by dint of great effort and dedication, to make a living for themselves and even in a small way to prosper. Still they greatly rued their departure from the hard-working ways their father had always endeavored to teach them, which had brought them to such a pass, and had not many hours of great happiness.
And it happened on a particular day, after they had been thus occupied for the better part of a year, that a proxy doing the work of the divine in their town learned of the sad tale of the three brothers. Unnoticed by them he observed them to discover the truth of the report, and learned to his sorrow that what he had heard in the town was in fact the case. And he went before the divine ladies in the blue courts of eternity, and laid before them the entire story.
On the following day, the proxy appeared to the three brothers in glory, not disguising what he was, and spoke to them. “I have seen your trials, and I have seen the change that has come over you because of your hardships. And because of this, I have spoken to our creators and protectors the divine ladies, and interceded on your behalf, for such is the privilege of a proxy. And the ladies in their mercy, touched by your sad story, have granted me special license to heal you of your wounds and set things aright for you.” And so saying, he touched the arms of the first brother, and the eyes of the second, and the legs of the third, and they were made whole.
And he said, “This warning also I give you: that if you should forget the lesson you have learned during this time of trial, if you should once again rely upon circumstances other than your own honest work to be your means of provision, you shall find yourselves crippled again forever.”
The three brothers, finding themselves again whole and without pain, rejoiced greatly and gave great thanks and praise to the proxy and to the divine ladies. And they took to heart the warning the proxy had given them, and thenceforth worked industriously at their father’s trade. And though they became mightily prosperous, they never forgot the lesson they had learned, and relied always upon their own industry, which never faltered, and never found themselves crippled again. The End.