There, too, was Echo, once a wood-nymph who angered the goddess Juno
with her waste of words, and was compelled now to wait till others
spoke, and then to say nothing but their last word, like any
mocking-bird. One day she saw and loved the youth Narcissus, who was
searching the woods for his hunting companions. "Come hither!" he
called, and Echo cried "Hither!" eager to speak at last. "Here am
I,--come!" he repeated, looking about for the voice. "I come," said
Echo, and she stood before him. But the youth, angry at such mimicry,
only stared at her and hastened away. From that time she faded to a
voice, and to this day she lurks hidden and silent till you call.

But Narcissus himself was destined to fall in love with a shadow. For,
leaning over the edge of a brook one day, he saw his own beautiful face
looking up at him like a water-nymph. He leaned nearer, and the face
rose towards him, but when he touched the surface it was gone in a
hundred ripples. Day after day he besought the lovely creature to have
pity and to speak; but it mocked him with his own tears and smiles, and
he forgot all else, until he changed into a flower that leans over to
see its image in the pool.

There, too, was the sunflower Clytie, once a maiden who thought nothing
so beautiful as the sun-god Phoebus Apollo. All the day long she used
to look after him as he journeyed across the heavens in his golden
chariot, until she came to be a fair rooted plant that ever turns its
head to watch the sun.

Many like were there. Daphne the laurel, Hyacinthus (once a beautiful
youth, slain by mischance), who lives and renews his bloom as a
flower,--these and a hundred others. The very weeds were friendly....