The myth of narcissus
adapted from ovid
1
he was a beautiful young man, this narcissus of thespiai, son of the river god kephisos and the fountain-nymph liriope, and none who looked upon him could deny it. his admirers—and make no mistake, all who saw him were his admirers—reflected his beauty back to him in their captivated stares, their blushing cheeks. though narcissus had never seen his own image, he knew very well he was beautiful, and this made him contemptuous of those who desired his company but whom, he thought—because of their lesser beauty—did not deserve it.
2
one day, in the woods where narcissus sometimes hunted, a fountain sprang up, and so fresh were its waters, so pure and untouched, that the pool it made was as still and shining as a mirror. luscious grasses grew up alongside it and trees shaded it, though none had the audacity to drop even so much as a leaf onto its pristine surface.
3
here narcissus, hot and tired from the hunt, paused to take refreshment. he lay down upon the soft grass, and when he bent to the pool to quench his thirst, he was startled by a face moving toward his beneath the surface of the water. such a face he had never seen before. eyes sparkling with the celestial glory of the brightest stars, hair more lustrous than apollo’s, a complexion fair and smooth as marble, the strong and elegant lines of cheek and neck. a truly beautiful face. here at last was kindred loveliness. narcissus could not draw his eyes away. moreover, the face beneath the water seemed just as fervent in its admiration of him.
4
no other sight in the world could hold narcissus so rapt, not the depthless, wine-dark sea nor the mountains reaching ever toward the gods. no other beauty upon the earth could rival this, and so here narcissus stayed, gazing with irrepressible yearning after his own image. “have you ever seen anything so lovely? ” he called out to the whispering forest around him, and the whispering forest gave no answer. “i would be miserable if ever i had to leave such beauty behind.”
5
he did not know that the face he saw beneath the water was not real, had no life of its own; he did not know that should he only depart, the beautiful face would also go, and the pool would be empty as it was before, as it had been all along.
6
but the nymphs who lived in these woods had watched this scene unfold, and they knew the truth that narcissus did not. perhaps out of pity or perhaps out of scorn, as a blessing or a curse, they transformed this beautiful young man into a flower, the flower that still bears his name, its elegant head on bending stem, gazing always at its own reflection.
the disciple
by oscar wilde
1
when narcissus died the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the oreads came weeping through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it comfort.
2
and when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses of their hair and cried to the pool and said, “we do not wonder that you should mourn in this manner for narcissus, so beautiful was he.”
3
“but was narcissus beautiful? ” said the pool.
4
“who should know that better than you? ” answered the oreads. “us did he ever pass by, but you he sought for, and would lie on your banks and look down at you, and in the mirror of your waters he would mirror his own beauty.”
5
and the pool answered, “but i loved narcissus because, as he lay on my banks and looked down at me, in the mirror of his eyes i saw ever my own beauty mirrored.”