g at the
remembrance of her merry chatter and her tricksy humour.
It was an evil day for Echo when she crossed the path of Hera, queen
of the gods. The jealous goddess sought her errant husband, who was
amusing himself with some nymphs, and Echo, full of mischievous glee,
kept her in talk until the nymphs had fled to safety. Hera was furious
indeed when she found out that a frolicsome nymph had dared to play on
her such a trick, and ruthlessly she spoke fair Echo's doom.
"Henceforth," she said, "the tongue with which thou hast cheated me
shall be in bonds. No longer wilt thou have the power to speak in
greeting. To the tongues of others shall thy tongue be slave, and from
this day until time shall cease thou shalt speak only to repeat the
last words that have fallen on thine ears."
A maimed nymph indeed was Echo then, yet whole in all that matters
most, in that her merry heart was still her own. But only for a little
while did this endure.
Narcissus, the beautiful son of a nymph and a river god, was hunting
in a lonely forest one day when Echo saw him pass. To her he seemed
more fair than god or man, and once she had seen him she knew that she
must gain his love or die. From that day on, she haunted him like his
shadow, gliding from tree to tree, nestling down amongst thick fern
and undergrowth, motionless as one who stalks a wild thing, watching
him afar off while he rested, gladdening her eyes with his beauty. So
did she feed her hungering heart, and sought to find contentment by
looking on his face each day.
To her at length came a perfect moment when Narcissus was separated
from his companions in the chase and, stopping suddenly where the
evening sun chequered the pathway of the forest with black and gold,
heard the nymph's soft footfall on the rustling leaves.
"Who's here?" he called.
"_Here!_" answered Echo.
Narcissus, peering amongst the trees' long shadows and seeing no one,
called "Come!"
And "_Come!_" called the glad voice of Echo, while the nymph, with
fast-beating heart, felt that her day of happiness had come indeed.
"Why do you shun me?" then called Narcissus.
"_Why do you shun me?_" Echo repeated.
"Let us join one another," said the lad, and the simple words seemed
turned into song when Echo said them over.
"_Let us join one another!_" she said, and not Eos herself, as with
rosy fingers she turns aside the dark clouds of night, could be fairer
than was the nymph as she pushed
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