Elizabeth Laird THE FATEFUL MIRROR

       The Story of Echo and Narcissus

      In ancient times, when the old gods ruled from Mount Olympus, a handsome young hunter roamed the earth, trapping in his nets any prey that came within his reach.

      He was sixteen years old, and already many young women, and men too, had fallen in love with him.

      His name was Narcissus.

      In the forest where he hunted, a young girl wandered, looking for flowers. She talked as she ran about, and her tongue, like her feet, was never still. But her speech was meaningless, for the goddess Juno, angered by the girl’s endless chatter, had cruelly condemned her only to repeat the words that others spoke.

      Her name was Echo.

      One day, worn out by the hunt, Narcissus lay down in the shade of a spreading tree and closed his eyes. Echo ran past and saw him. She stopped at once when she saw the boy, then crept towards him and stood looking down at him, at the dark curls falling over his high forehead, the blush of red on his cheek, and the slender strong hands that still held his nets as he slept. And as she gazed at him, she fell in love.

      She longed to touch his hand, to wake him and tell him that she loved him, but she could not. The only words she could utter would be echoes of his own.

      She crept away and hid behind a tree.

      I’ll wait, she thought. When he wakes up I’ll follow him and listen. Perhaps he’ll say something I can repeat, to show him that I love him.

      At last Narcissus opened his eyes, sighed, sat up and stretched himself. Then he looked round. With the sharp senses of the hunter he knew he was not alone.

      ‘Who’s there?’ he called out.

      Echo trembled at the sound of his voice, lightly shaking the branch she was holding. The leaves rattled and a leaf fell to the ground.

      ‘Who’s there?’ Narcissus called again.

      He thought a wild animal must be lurking in the bushes, ready to leap out at him, so he snatched up his nets and ran forward to catch it. Echo stepped silently aside and hid herself under an overhanging rock.

      Puzzled, Narcissus moved on through the forest and, flitting noiselessly from tree to tree, Echo followed him. Often he stopped and looked over his shoulder, and she froze in her tracks, so that in the dappled light that shone through the leaves overhead, he would mistake her for the trunk of a young sapling, or a shaft of light, shining on a boulder.

      All day she followed him, waiting for her chance, her heart brimming over with love and longing.

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