And
she pined, and pined, until her body wasted quite
away, and nothing but her voice was left. And
some say that even to this day her voice lives in
lonely caves and answers men's words from afar.
Now, when Narcissus fled from Echo, he came
to a clear spring, like silver. Its waters were
unsullied, for neither goats feeding upon the
mountains nor any other cattle had drunk from it,
nor had wild beasts or birds disturbed it, nor had
branch or leaf fallen into its calm waters. The
trees bent above and shaded it from the hot sun,
and the soft, green grass grew on its margin.
Here Narcissus, fatigued and thirsty after his
flight, laid himself down beside the spring to
drink. He gazed into the mirror-like water, and
saw himself reflected in its tide. He knew not
that it was his own image, but thought that he
saw a youth living in the spring.
He gazed on two eyes like stars, on graceful
slender fingers, on clustering curls worthy of
Apollo, on a mouth arched like Cupid's bow, on
blushing cheeks and ivory neck. And as he gazed
his cold heart grew warm, and love for this beautiful
reflection rose up and filled his soul.
He rained kisses on the deceitful stream. He
thrust his arms into the water, and strove to
grasp the image by the neck, but it fled away.
Again he kissed the stream, but the image mocked
his love.
Pages:
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115