hen Juno perceived all this, she ordered the troublesome Nymph away
from her court, and banished her to the wildwood, bidding her never
speak again except in imitation of other peoples' words. So Echo dwelt
in the woods, and forever mocked the words of youths and maidens.

One day as Narcissus was wandering alone in the pathless forest, Echo,
peeping from behind a tree, saw his beauty, and as she gazed her heart
was filled with love. Stealthily she followed his footsteps, and often
she tried to call to him with endearing words, but she could not speak,
for she no longer had a voice of her own.

At last Narcissus heard the sound of breaking branches, and he cried
out: "Is there any one here?"

And Echo answered softly: "Here!"

Narcissus, amazed, looking about on all sides and seeing no one, cried:
"Come!"

And Echo answered: "Come!"

Narcissus cried again: "Who art thou? Whom seekest thou?"

And Echo answered: "Thou!"

Then rushing from among the trees she tried to throw her arms about his
neck, but Narcissus fled through the forest, crying: "Away! away! I will
die before I love thee!"

And Echo answered mournfully: "I love thee!"

And thus rejected, she hid among the trees, and buried her blushing face
in the green leaves. 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