ly
extendest thine; when I smile, thou smilest in return; often, too, have
I observed thy tears, when I was weeping; my signs, too, thou returnest
by thy nods, and, as I guess by the motion of thy beauteous mouth, thou
returnest words that come not to my ears. In thee 'tis I, I {now}
perceive; nor does my form deceive me. I burn with the love of myself,
and both raise the flames and endure them. What shall I do? Should I be
entreated, or should I entreat? What, then, shall I entreat? What I
desire is in my power; plenty has made me poor. Oh! would that I could
depart from my own body! a new wish, {indeed}, in a lover; I could wish
that what I am in love with was away. And now grief is taking away my
strength, and no long period of my life remains; and in my early days am
I cut off; nor is death grievous to me, now about to get rid of my
sorrows by death. I wish that he who is beloved could enjoy a longer
life. Now we two, of one mind, shall die in {the extinction of} one
life."

{Thus} he said, and, with his mind {but} ill at ease, he returned to the
same reflection, and disturbed the water with his tears; and the form
was rendered defaced by the moving of the stream; when he saw it
{beginning} to disappear, he cried aloud, "Whither dost thou fly? Stay,
I beseech thee! and do not in thy cruelty abandon thy lover; let it be
allowed me to behold that which I may not touch, and to give nourishment
to my wretched frenzy." And, while he was grieving, he tore his garment
from the upper border, and beat his naked breast with his palms, white
as marble. His breast, when struck, received a little redness, no
otherwise than as apples are wont, which are partly white {and} partly
red; or as a grape, not yet ripe, in the parti-colored clusters, is wont
to assume a purple tint. Soon as he beheld this again in the water, when
clear, he could not endure it any longer; but, as yellow wax with the
fire, or the hoar frost of the morning, is wont to waste away with the
warmth of the sun, so he, consumed by love, pined away, and wasted by
degrees with a hidden flame. And now, no longer was his complexion of
white mixed with red; neither his vigor nor his strength, nor {the
points} which had charmed when seen so lately, nor {even} his body,
which formerly Echo had been in love with, now remained. Yet, when she
saw these things, although angry, and mindful {of his usage of her}, she
was grieved, and, as often as the unhappy youth said, "Alas