300 THE MYTHS OF CREATION: THE GODS
Echo and Narcissus, by Nicolas Poussin (1594-1665); oil on canvas, ca. 1630, 29V 4 X 39V2
in. Narcissus lies along the edge of the pool with his flowers growing near his head, while
Echo, waiflike, fades away in the background. The Cupid's burning torch is more fitting
for a funeral than for the celebration of love. (Paris, Eouvre.)
The river-god Cephisus once embraced the nymph Liriope in his winding stream
and, enveloping her in his waves, took her by force. When her time had come,
the beautiful Liriope bore a child with whom even as a baby the nymphs might
have fallen in love. And she called him Narcissus. She consulted the seer Tire-
sias, asking whether her son would live a long time to a ripe old age; his an-
swer was: "Yes, if he will not have come to know himself." For a long time this
response seemed to be an empty prophecy, but as things turned out, its truth
was proven by the unusual nature of the boy's madness and death.
The son of Cephisus had reached his sixteenth year and could be looked upon
as both a boy and a young man. Many youths and many maidens desired him,
but such a firm pride was coupled with his soft beauty that no one (either boy or
girl) dared to touch him. He was seen once as he was driving the timid deer into
his nets by the talkative nymph, who had learned neither to be silent when an-
other is speaking nor to be the first to speak herself, namely the mimic Echo.
At that time Echo was a person and not only a voice; but just as now, she
was garrulous and was able to use her voice in her customary way of repeating
from a flood of words only the very last. Juno brought this about because, when