and in an instant she said
more than four thousand magpies.
It will be the same with Echo,
because if speech is a defect in
females, such a bad habit is
not lost so quickly.
FEBO: I don’t believe you, and
I’m going into these woodlands
in search of her.
(Music is heard
within, far away) But what is this?
SIRENE: The remarkable sound of
diverse sorts of music
is coming this way.
FEBO: I don’t want to stop to know the reason,
because when I cry,
singers make me even sadder.
Febo exits.
SIRENE: What reason is there today,
Bato, for such a celebration?
BATO: In congratulation for silencing
a woman. What more is needed?
Narcissus enters, with the musicians.
NARCISSUS: Here, friends,
the music must be,
as this clear spring is the sphere
of a sun that scorches with its ice-filled light.
Do not approach it until I first go call to her,
because the music is no good
if she is not there to hear it.
BATO: Narcissus, what is this?
NARCISSUS: Did I not already tell you in passing
when you stayed here with Echo?
BATO: Well, tell me now in staying.
NARCISSUS: My conquered heart loves
the nymph of these waters.
I saw her as I was coming for a drink.
With gestures she gave me
permission to love her, because
her voice makes no sound within
the water. I bring her music,
Bato, to entertain her, and
I am going to see if she is there.
BATO: How I would enjoy seeing her,
because even though I have
heard him say that there are
nymphs and elves,
I have not seen a single nymph or elf.
NARCISSUS: Wait here, as it could anger her
if you come to see her,
and she might not even come out.
Let me draw closer alone.
And if at the sound of my voice
that calls to her she comes out,
you will secretly come to look at her.
Crystalline deity whom
my heart idolizes,
come out at the sound of my voice.
BATO: Did she emerge?
NARCISSUS: Yes. I do not know how to say
how great is my happiness
at seeing how quickly you come to
the sound of my voice.
I bring you music, and to find out
what pleases you, I would bring you
all the gifts that these fields produce.
Doesn’t that desire please you?
Say yes. That sign was enough.
BATO: Can I come closer now?
NARCISSUS: While I go to tell the musicians
to sing, you will be
able to see her, Bato. But
make sure you come so quietly,
that she does not hear you.
Splendid beauty, I am going to
tell the musicians they may
come closer. Wait here.
(
to Bato) Come, as she is staying here.
Narcissus exits.
BATO:
I approach with so much fear
and so much shame, since this
is the first time that I’ve come
to the spring, so great has been
the dislike I have had for water
and the faith I have had in wine.
(looking at What a most grotesque face
himself in the for a nymph! My own face could
spring) surely be no worse, nor even
quite as bad.
Narcissus enters.
NARCISSUS: Come. Speak your praises to my darling
(offstage to the from right here.
musicians)
(
to Bato) Have you seen her?
BATO: I have seen her.
NARCISSUS: Is her beauty not extraordinary?
BATO: Very much so, sir, if she had…
NARCISSUS: Go on, what?
BATO:
Her beard done, because as it is
she has more than I must have.
NARCISSUS: How strange is your simple-mindedness!
Sing, men.
They sing, and Echo responds from within.
Listen, my darling, to what they sing
to you.
MUSICIANS: The pleasures of love…
ECHO: Love.
MUSICIANS: Have in jealousy…
ECHO: Jealousy.
MUSICIANS: Freed the sorrows…
ECHO: Sorrows.
MUSICIANS: That, in my soul, I feel.
ECHO: I feel.
MUSICIANS: Oh, I die of jealousies and loves!
Oh, I die!
ECHO: Oh, I die!
NARCISSUS: Listen to that. What second voice,
repeated on the winds, duplicates
your intonations, swiftly
cutting through the air?
BATO: I don’t know. Astonished,
I heard it with great fear.
NARCISSUS: What were the lyrics saying
that your tune sang?
MUSICIANS: The pleasures of love…
ECHO: Love.
MUSICIANS: Have in jealousy…
ECHO: Jealousy.
MUSICIANS: Freed the sorrows…
ECHO: Sorrows.
MUSICIANS: That, in my soul, I feel.
ECHO: I feel.
MUSICIANS: Oh, I die of jealousies and loves!
Oh, I die!
ECHO: Oh, I die!
NARCISSUS: It seems that, in repeating
the ends of these verses,
someone is lamenting their own
misfortunes, saying in so many words:
“I feel love, jealousy, sorrow! Oh, I die!”
BATO: Who could it be?
SIRENE: Some deity, because it would
not speak without being seen
unless it was a deity.
NARCISSUS: May we see you all sing
a second time…
Liríope enters.
LIRÍOPE: Sing no more. I say, to whom,
Narcissus, do you give this music
in this ever balmy grove?
NARCISSUS: To the greatest beauty
the heavens ever saw,
in whom I have my life
secured from the fates
since, if my atrocious end
lies in a voice and a beauty,
here the heavens bestow upon me
a beauty without a voice.
LIRÍOPE (
aside): There is no doubt that he seeks
to love Echo, since the
unhappy Echo now can
only say what she hears spoken,
and so is a beauty without a voice.
NARCISSUS: The deity of this spring, mother,
is the one I adore. She is
inside it, and I know you will nobly
appreciate such lofty devotion.
LIRÍOPE: But when did you see the deity?
NARCISSUS: As I was drinking her crystal,
I was able to see her scorching
within the water, and she so
favored me upon learning of my
love for her that she laughs
when I laugh, and if I cry
she too is filled with sorrow.
LIRÍOPE: Your ignorance has, from the indications
you have given me, had you
enamored of your own reflection.
NARCISSUS: How can that be?
LIRÍOPE: Come to the crystal so that
you will see it and, though
disappointed, you will stop fooling
yourself and leading yourself
astray with your own caution.
Narcissus approaches the fountain.
NARCISSUS: You come here. She is inside.
LIRÍOPE: Am I in the water right now, Narcissus?
NARCISSUS: No.
Liríope now arrives at the fountain.
LIRÍOPE: And am I now in it?
NARCISSUS: Yes. And my equivocal desire
construes strange reasonings
when I see you on land and
in the water at the same time.
LIRÍOPE: Well, in the same way that you
see me there, you see yourself.
That which you take to be a
deity is only your reflection.
Acknowledge that your love
has been madness, that it was
you yourself whom you loved.
NARCISSUS: Heaven forbid! I, then,
have such exquisite beauty?
And I cannot – oh, how terrible! –
be the one who can possess it, or who
aspires to merit it? Heavens,
is this how it is?
ECHO (
within): It is.
NARCISSUS: Who responds to my voice?
LIRÍOPE: Echo, whom the wilderness hides,
responds with what she hears.
NARCISSUS: And she pardons me not?
ECHO: Not.
NARCISSUS: Well, listen, Echo, even though
you die…
ECHO: You die.
NARCISSUS: Jealously, of me enamored…
ECHO: Enamored.
NARCISSUS: I will not remind myself of you.
ECHO: Of you.
NARCISSUS: But – oh, heavens! – if I
join together the syllables
just heard, Mother, and you
consider them, the last three said:
“You die enamored of you.”
And I fear it was heard by heaven.
ECHO: Heaven.
NARCISSUS: Since it is necessary that
heaven gives me…
ECHO: Gives me.
NARCISSUS: On myself, my vengeance…
ECHO: Vengeance.
NARCISSUS: And now, increasing my distrust
even more, the repeated last
syllables are now saying:
“Heaven gives me vengeance.”
This impossible beauty…
ECHO: Beauty.
NARCISSUS: And that beauty and voice…
ECHO: And voice.
NARCISSUS: Simultaneously have killed me.
ECHO: Have killed me.
NARCISSUS: As the oracle of the desert
so clearly warned me they would.
As my sorrows compete with each other,
indeed Echo repeats with me:
“Beauty and voice have killed me.”
Oh, what unhappiness – I am dying!
ECHO: I am dying.
NARCISSUS: My very own reflection, loving…
ECHO: Loving.
NARCISSUS: And a voice, loathing…
ECHO: Loathing.
NARCISSUS: By which it is made clear
that fate has executed its threats.
I want to flee from myself, but already
I am dying loving and loathing.
Narcissus exits.
LIRÍOPE: Listen, Narcissus, wait.
BATO: He has entered the wilderness,
fleeing.
LIRÍOPE: Oh, how mortals wish in vain
to understand the heavens!
All of the methods with which
I today tried to hinder the determination
of his destiny have only made it
come about all the easier;
since Echo’s voice afflicts him
and coming here to flee from her,
his beauty gives him death,
with which I see it fulfilled
that beauty and voice are killing him,
loving and loathing.
Febo and Silvio enter.
FEBO: Amazement of these valleys…
SILVIO: Wonder of these woodlands…
FEBO: Having come here a beast…
SILVIO: You have returned to your beginnings…
FEBO: What spell have you cast on Echo…
SILVIO: What anguish, what venom…
FEBO: That, fleeing from other people, she dies…
SILVIO: Completely mad, in those wastelands?
LIRÍOPE: No anguish, no spell, no venom
more fierce than her own love!
That, gentlemen, is what has killed her.
FEBO: You lie, since your magical sciences…
SILVIO: With their noxious fumes…
FEBO Y SILVIO: Have stolen her sanity and her life.
LIRÍOPE: If they were strong enough to do that,
they would be strong enough for Narcissus
not to suffer the same fate.
Since he dies of a love no less
unusual, it is certain that neither
has been my effect.
FEBO: Yes, it has been, since this effect
is the vengeance of the gods on
Narcissus, who have punished
your audacity through him.
SILVIO: And I must avenge her on you,
and on them.
FEBO: She will be the victim
of my cruel justice first.
As the two of them attack her, Anteo enters and stops them.
ANTEO: Stop! He who brought her here
is responsible for her life.
FEBO: Anteo, do not defend her
when you see the reasons we have
for attacking her.
SILVIO: And because you said it best,
look again at Echo, raving mad,
how she goes fleeing into the
wilderness in search of caves.
LIRÍOPE: To see how little blame I have,
see how Narcissus returns to
the woodlands also, and no less mad than she.
Echo enters, raving.
ECHO: Where can I try to hide
from my own loathsome self
if I come with myself no matter where I go?
Narcissus enters.
NARCISSUS: In love with myself,
I return to gaze at my reflection in the spring.
ANTEO: Were they yours,
such feelings would not be equal to one another.
FEBO: Having already defended her life,
you will see that I defend another’s.
I intend to cure Echo, the nobility
of my love coming to the aid of her health.
SILVIO: I dedicate the arrogance of my love,
cruel and fierce, more to her vengeance
than to her cure. It will give death to
she who caused Echo’s misfortunes.
LIRÍOPE: Oh Fortune, when will my magic
take effect? Let the charm disrupt
the intentions of my son’s actions.
FEBO: Pretty Echo…
(taking hold
of her)
SILVIO: Unhappy youth…
FEBO: I will try to give you life.
SILVIO: And I will give you death.
ECHO: What for, if I hate it?
NARCISSUS:
You arrive late, since
my misfortunes have already killed me.
ECHO: And in order for you not to
succeed, in desperation, I will
throw myself into that abyss.
NARCISSUS: And that I may never be your trophy,
I will throw myself
into those waters.
FEBO: Come with me.
ECHO: It is a vain attempt…
SILVIO: Die by my steel.
NARCISSUS: It is in vain…
LIRÍOPE: What are the elements waiting for?
ECHO: I, abhorred by myself, will
try to avenge myself on myself.
NARCISSUS: I, in love with myself, will
die of my own self-love.
FEBO: I will stop you.
SILVIO: I will give you death.
With Febo taking hold of Echo, and Silvio of Narcissus, Echo flies above everyone and Narcissus falls on the stage as though dead. The sound of an earthquake is heard, the theater is darkened, and as it ends, a flower arises from the ground that suggests that of Narcissus, hiding the body that fell on the stage.
ALL: But what is this?
ANTEO: The sun, dimming the day,
has become dark shadows.
SILVIO: What amazement!
It thunders.
FEBO: What a marvel!
LIRÍOPE: What a wonder!
ANTEO: What a miracle!
It thunders.
ALL: What has happened here?
FEBO: Echo has turned into air
in my arms.
SILVIO: And Narcissus, in his waters and
before my rage could reach him, has died.
ALL: In their funeral rites,,
Heaven and earth mourn them.
The theater is cleared, and the flower appears.
LIRÍOPE: Fate followed through on its threats,
availing itself of the instruments
that I put in its path to prevent it,
so that a voice and a beauty were,
were the ruin of both of them,
both of them now being air and flower.
BATO:
And there will be fools
who believe it.
But, whether it be true or not,
such is the fable of Narcissus and Echo.
Pardon the many faults,
of him who, kneeling at your feet,
will reminds you of the excuse
that his errors are in obedience.