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Narcissus and Echo
Join with Ovid as he tells his version of the tale of Narcissus and Echo (Metamorphoses 3. 342-510) ;
The river-god Cephisus once embraced the nymph Liriope in his winding stream and, enveloping her in his waves, took her by force. When her time had come, the beautiful Liriope bore a child with whom even as a baby the nymphs might have fallen in love. And she called him Narcissus. She consulted the seer Tiresias, asking whether her son would live a long time to a ripe old age; his answer was ; "Yes, if he will not have come to know himself." For a long time this response seemed to be an empty prophecy, but as things turned out, it's truth was proven by the unusual nature of the boy's madness and death.
The son of Cephisus had reached his sixteenth year and could be looked upon as both boy and young man. Many youths and many maidens desired him, but such a firm pride was coupled with his soft beauty that no one (either boy or girl) dared to touch him. He was seen once as he was driving timid deer into his nets by the talkative nymph, who learned neither to be silent when another is speaking nor to be the first to speak herself, namely the mimic Echo.
At that time Echo was a person and not only a voice; but just as now, she was garrulous and was able to use her voice in her customary way of repeating from a flood of words only the very last. Juno brought this about because, when she might have been able to catch the nymphs lying on the mountain with her Jove, Echo knowingly detained the goddess by talking at length until the nymphs could run away. When Juno realized the truth she exclaimed: " The power of that tongue of yours, by which I have been tricked, will be limited; and most brief will be the use of your voice." She made good her threats; Echo only gives back the words she has heard and repeats the final phrases of utterances.
And so she saw Narcissus wandering through a secluded countryside and burned with passion; she followed his footsteps furtively, and the closer she pursued him, the nearer was the fire that consumed her, just like the tops of torches, smeared with sulpher, that can catch blaze up when a flame is brought near. O how often she wanted to approach him with blandishments and tender appeals! Her very nature made this impossible, for she was not allowed to speak first. But she was prepared to wait for his utterances and to echo them with her own words - this she could do.
By chance the boy became separated from
his faithful band of companions and he cried out : "Is there anyone there?" Echo replied "There!"
He was dumbfounded and glanced about in all directions; then he shouted at full voice: "Come!" She called
back to him with the same word. He looked around but saw no one approaching; "Why do you run away from me?"
he asked. She echoed his words just as he had spoken them.
He was persistent, beguiled by the reflection of the other's voice, and exclaimed : "Come here and let us
get together!". Echo replied, "Let us get together," and never would she answer any other sound
more willingly. She merged from the woods, making good her very words and rushed to throw her arms about the neck
of her beloved. But he fled and in his flight exclaimed, "Take your hands off me; I would die before I let
you possess me." She replied with only the last words "Possess me."
Thus spurned, she hid herself in the woods where she had lived in solitary caves. Nevertheless, her love clung fast and grew with the pain of rejection. Wakeful cares wasted away her wretched body, her skin became emaciated, and the bloom and vigor of her whole being slipped away on the air. Her voice and her bones were all that was left. Then only her voice remained; her bones, they say, were turned to stone. From that time on, she had hidden in the woods; she is never seen on the mountains, but she is heard by everyone. The sound of her echo is all of her that still lives.
Narcissus had played with her so, just as he had previously rejected other nymphs sprung from the waves or the mountains, and as well males who had approached him. Thereupon one of those scorned raised up his hands to the heavens and cried: "So may he himself fall in love, so may he not be able to possess his beloved!" The prayer was a just one, and Nemesis heard it.
There was a spring, it's clear water glistening like silver, untouched by shepherds, mountain goats, and other animals, and undisturbed by birds, wild beasts, and fallen tree branches. Grass grew round about, nourished by the water nearby, and the woods protected the spot from the heat of the sun. Here the boy lay down, tired out by the heat and his quest for game and attracted by the pool and the beauty of the place. While he was trying to quench his thirst, it kept coming back again and again, and as he continued to drink, he was captivated by the reflection and the beauty he saw.
He fell in love with a hope insubstantial, believing what was only an image to be real and corporeal. He gazed in wonder at himself, clinging transfixed and emotionless to what he saw, just like a statue formed from Parian marble. From his position on the ground he looked at his eyes, twin stars, and his hair, worthy of both Bacchus and Apollo, and his smooth cheeks, his ivory neck, and the beauty of all his face, a flush of red amid snowy whiteness. He marveled at all things that others had marveled at in him. Unwise and unheeding, he desired his very self, one and the same person approving and being approved, seeking and being sought, inflaming and being inflamed. How many times he bestowed vain kisses on the deceptive pool!" How many times he plunged his arms into the midst of the waters to grasp the neck of what he saw!" But he could not catch hold of himself in their embrace. He did not understand what he was looking at, but was inflamed by what he saw, and the same illusion that decieved his eyes aroused his passion.
Poor deluded boy, why do you grasp at your fleeting reflection to no avail? what you seek is not real; just turn away and you will lose what you love. What you perceive is but the reflection of your own image; it has no substance of it's own. With you it comes and stays, and with you it will go, if you can bear it to go. No concern for food or rest could drag him away from his post, but stretched out on the shady grass he looks at this deceptive beauty with insatiable gaze and destroys himself through his own eyes.
He raised up a little and stretching out
his arms to the surrounding woods exclaimed : Has there ever been anyone smitten by more cruel a love? Tell me,
O trees, for you know since you have provided opportune for countless lovers. In the length of your years, in the
many ages you have lived, can you remember anyone who has wasted away like me? I behold my beloved, but what I
see and love I cannot have; such is the frustration of my unrequited passion. I am all the more wretched because
it is not a cast sea or lengthy road or impregnable fortress that separates us. Only a little water keeps us from
each other. My beloved desires to be held, for each time that I bend down to kiss the limpid waters, he return
strains upward with his eager lips. You would think that he could be touched; it is such a little thing that prevents
the consumption of our love. Whoever you are, come out to me here. Why, incomparable,boy,
do you deceive me? When I pursue you, where do you go? Certainly you do not flees from my youthful beauty, for
nymphs loved me too. You promise me some kind of hope with your sympathetic looks of friendship. When I stretch
forth my arms to you, you do the same in return. When I laugh,, you laugh back, and I have noted your tears in
response to my weeping. and as well you return my every gesture and nod; and as far as I can surmise from movements
of your lovely mouth, you answer me with words that never each my ears. I am you! I realize it; my reflection does
not deceive me; I burn with love for myself, I am the one who fans the flame and bears the torture. What am I to
do? Should I be the one asked or to ask? What then shall I ask for? What I desire is with me; all that I have makes
me poor. O how I wish that I could escape my body! A strange prayer for one in love, to wish away what he loves!And
now grief consumes my strength; the time remaining for me is short, and my life will be snuffed out in it's prime.
Death does not weigh heavily upon me, for death will bring and end to my misery. I only wish that he whom I cherish
could live a longer time. As it is, we two who are one in life shall die together!"
He finished speaking and, sick with longing, turned back again to his own reflection. His tears disturbed the waters and caused the image to be less distinct. When he saw it disappearing he screamed: " Where are you going? Stay here, do not desert me, your lover. I cannot touch you - let me look at you, give me the nourishment at least in my misery and madness." As he grieved, he tore his garment in its upper part and beat his bare chest with his marble-white hands. And his chest when struck took on a rosy tinge, as apples usually have their whiteness streaked with red, or grapes in various clusters when not yet ripe are stained with purple. As he beheld himself in the water that was once again calm, he could endure it no further; but, as yellow wax is wont to melt under the touch of fire and the gentle frost under the warmth of sun, so he was weakened and destroyed by love, gradually being consumed in its hidden flame. His beautiful complexion, white touched with red, no longer remained nor his youthful strength, nor all that he had formerly looked upon with such pleasure. Not even even his body, which Echo had loved, was left.
When Echo saw what he had become, she felt sorry, even though she had been angry and resentful. Each time that the poor boy exclaimed "Alas" she repeated in return echoing "Alas." and as he struck his shoulders with his hands, she gave back the same sounds of his grief. This was his last cry as he gazed into the familiar waters: "Alas for the boy I cherished in vain!" The place repeated these very same words. And when he said "Farewell," Echo repeated"Farewell," too. He relaxed his weary head on the green grass; night closed those yes that admired the beauty of their owner. Then too, after he had been recieved in the home of the dead below, he gazed at himself in the waters of the Styx. His sister Naiads wept and cut off their hair and offered it to their brother; the Dryads wept, and Echo sounded their laments. Now the pyre and streaming torches and the bier were being prepared, but the corpse was nowhere to be seen. They found instead a yellow flower with a circle of white petals in its center.
This story is very powerful because it is a good example of beauty only being skin deep. it also represents two insubstantial elements one being sound and the other vision or sight or something along those lines. Narcissus was not capable to love others, and the love he contained for himself was empty without form or substance not all that unlike water which has no shape of its own. Echo had earned his attention by reflecting his own words and he yearned to discover who returned his voice and was challenging him, when he learns that the voice does not reflect anything more than his voice and felt decieved. He then refuses to share his being and give himself over to her the same as it had been for every other nymph that had made advancements upon Narcissus. He knew not love, nor did she did as wholly as someone who has it retuned might feel. They both die lonely and in despair having been refused that which they both desired. They knew each others pain and that may be why she was moved with some sympathy at his death. Her love was more real then as she was not as absorbed in her own grief and feelings. True love however is mutual and there is trust within a relationship of give and take.
Another part of the story that stands out is the jealous male nymph and that if he could not have him no else will and that Narcissus feel the pain of unrequited love. He learns his own rejection.. It is somewhat shocking to see the truth in that. The saying we always want what we can not have also comes to mind. And thus it becomes an obsession.
Echo
By: Sir Philip Sidney
FAIR rocks, goodly rivers, sweet woods, when shall
I see peace? peace.
Peace! what bars me my tongue? who is it that comes to me so nigh? I.
Oh, I do know what guest I have met, it is Echo. 'Tis Echo
Well met, Echo, approach; then tell me thy will too. I will too.
Echo, what do I get yielding my spite to my grieves? Grieves.
What medicine may I find for a grief that draws me to death? Death.
O poisonous medicine! what worse to me can be than it? It.
In what state was I then, when I took this deadly disease? Ease.
And what manner a mind which had to humour a vein? Vain.
Hath not reason enough vehemence the desire to reprove? Prove.
Oft prove I : but what salve, when reason seeks to be gone? One.
Oh, what is it? what is it that may be salve to my love? Love.
What do lovers seek for, long seeking for to enjoy? Joy
What be the Joys which for to enjoy they went to the pains? Pains.
Then to an earnest love, what doth best victory lend? End.
End! but I can never end, Love will not give me leave? Leave.
How be the minds dispos'd that cannoth taste thy physick? Sick.
Yet say again thy advice for evils that I told thee? I told thee.
Doth the infected wretch of his harm the extermity know? No.
But if he know not his harms, what guides hath he whilst he be blind? Blind.
What blind guides can he have that leans to a fancy? A fancy.
Can fancies want eyes, or he fall that steppeth aloft? Oft.
What causes first made theses torments on me to light? Light.
Can then a cause be so light that forceth a man to go die? Ay.
Yet tell what light thing I had in me to draw me to die? Eye.
Eyesight made me to yeild; but what first pierced to my eyes? Eyes.
Eyes hurters, eyes hurt; but what from them to me falls? Falls.
But when I did fall, what brought most fall to my heart? Art.
Art! what can be that art? that grows by the words? Words.
O, much more than words: those words served more to me to bless. Less.
Oh when shall I be known where most be known I do long? Long.
Long be thy woes for such news; but how recks she my thoughts?? Oughts.
Then, then what do I gain, since unto her will I do wind. Wind.
Wind, tempests, and storms, yet in end what gives she such desire? Ire.
Silly reward! yet among woman hath she of virtue the most? Most.
What great name may I give so heav'nly a woman? A wo-man.
Wow, but seems to me joy, that agrees to my thoughts so. I thought so.
Think so, for my desired bliss is only the course. Curse.
Curs'd be thyself for cursing that which sends me joys. Toys.
What sweet creatures where lowly demands be not heard? Hard.
What makes them be unkind?speak, for though hast narrowly pried? Pride.
Whence can pride come there, since springs of beauty be thence? thence.
Horrible is this blasphemy unto the most holy. O lie.
Thou liest, false Echo! their minds as virtue be just. Just.
Mock'st thou those diamonds which only be matched by the gods? Odds.
Odds! what an odss is there!since them to the heaveans I prefer. Err.
Tell yet again me the names of these fair form'd to do evils? Devils.
Devils! if in hell such devils abide, to the hell I do go. Go