ĐĎॹá>ţ˙ ţ˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙ěĽÁ‘a řż—íjbjbA]A] ­b+?+?ąÔĘ˙˙˙˙˙˙ˆřřřř –¤ěDŞŇOŇOŇO€RP|ÎPDŞ$‘2V(FV\V\V\V7W7W7W{}}}}}},V’R¨”zŠř7W7W7W7W7WŠ{řř\V\VŰž*{{{7W" ř\Vř\V{{ÔôČâřřřř7W{{{řř{V SnŚĂŇOYc"-{{č<$‘{"•{"•{{˘ ŞŞä4ŽNDŞŞŽNECHO AND NARCISSUS A Play by Pedro Calderón de la Barca Translated by Bronwyn Lewis, Duke ‘08 in the spring semestre, 2006 in consultation with Margaret R. Greer Translation based on the edition of Eco y Narciso of Charles V. Aubrun Paris: Centre de Recherches de l’Institut d’Étudies Hispaniques, 1963 Please send suggestions for corrections or improvements to:  HYPERLINK "mailto:bronwyn.lewis@duke.edu" bronwyn.lewis@duke.edu and  HYPERLINK "mailto:mgreer@duke.edu" mgreer@duke.edu Characters Narcissus Febo, a young shepherd Silvio, a young shepherd Anteo, a young shepherd Sileno, an old shepherd Bato, a commoner Echo, a young woman Liríope, a young woman Laura, a young woman Nise, a young woman Libia, a young woman Sirene, a commoner Musicians Accompaniment Act I The curtain is raised to reveal a forest. Silvio enters from one side in shepherd’s clothing. SILVIO: Woodlands of Arcadia, how prominently you raise up to the heavens your elevated brow, the great eminence of which reaches so high that though it begins as a woods, it is crowned by clouds, your forelock of hair and your footprints being a carpet of roses and a canopy of stars… Febo, another young shepherd, enters from the other side of the stage. FEBO: Beautiful Arcadian jungle, how floridly you are always garnished by shades of color, without your pomp, at all times green, ever reminded of December nor June , May being the crown of your sphere and your season being year-round springtime… SILVIO: Birds, that fleetingly paint the air with the hues of a living bouquet, and, adding colors to colors, become the singing flowers of the trees… FEBO: Sheep, that scattered on the mountain are music of shearing and bleating and on the bank of that little stream are white pieces of sculpted snow. . .… SILVIO: My happiness, in the the good fortune of this day, comes to request your congratulations: today Echo, the most beautiful young woman that ever saw the light of the sun, in completing this latest circle of her years, evokes a flowery disenchantment of mortality. FEBO: My sorrow come to convey to you my condolences that the rare and unique beauty Echo, disabused of immortality, today has completed this circle of her years such that, although filled with happiness, each added year is one less grace remaining. Bato, a commoner, enters from the opposite side of the stage. BATO: Jungles of Arcadia, beautiful exalted forest, sheep and birds of this horizon, I come to ask your congratulations and to give you today my fitting condolences. The congratulations, because to today’s florid celebration of her birth Echo invites us and in her vanity promises to all a sumptuous banquet. The condolences, because – alas! – she will promise us no other until a year from now. FEBO: Oh, Silvio! SILVIO: Oh, Febo! BATO: Oh, Bato! FEBO: You name yourself, you crazy man? BATO: Well, if no one else mentions me, what am I to do? And my style should not surprise you, since the times are so foolish and troublesome that it is necessary for everyone to honor themselves. FEBO: Silvio, where are you coming from? SILVIO: I come with pleasure and filled with great happiness to this pretty cabin that, twice straw-colored, the sun bathes in light. FEBO: I also come to it, and upon seeing you here, too, I am jealous that already my love is disappointed that you also live in love with Echo. SILVIO: Oh, heavens, how much more quickly am I met with Jealousy before I am met with my love! BATO: With such similar strategies, what hypocrites lovers become in each others’ company! FEBO: Why do you say that? BATO: Even though I want to say it, I cannot, because all of this music, this noise, tells me that Echo has come out, celebrated by all the young men. SILVIO: I will offer my congratulations in troubled tones until my confessions may speak more clearly. FEBO: Who ever saw such noble jealousy in a peasant’s love? The musicians enter, singing and dancing, followed by Sileno, Anteo, Nise, Sirene, and Eco. MUSICIANS: Each of the happy years of Echo’s life, divine and beautiful goddess of the jungle, May gladly represents with flowers, while the Sun proudly tells their story with the stars. SILVIO: Gorgeous Echo, in wise nature condensed the most outstanding beauty that Arcadia ever set eyes upon, the circle that dawn completes in your pretty lights is so superior to any other brilliance or radiance… SILVIO AND MUSICIANS: May gladly represents with flowers, while the Sun proudly tells their story with the stars. FEBO: May your florid springtime ignore cold Winter, ignore blazing Summer, in order that it may endure pleasantly in its greenness, such that the marks of death do not change your pretty roses, but rather its clear daybreaks, that… FEBO AND MUSICIANS: May gladly represents with flowers, while the Sun proudly tells their story with the stars. BATO: My tongue does not advise you to live long, for that is a mistake. To die young is better, than becoming an old woman, And so leave off aging that, as it passes you by, the tinges and colors of that age of the greatest beauty… BATO AND MUSICIANS: May gladly represents with flowers, while the Sun proudly tells their story with the stars. ECHO: I am very pleased by the festivities with which you honor me, And to ensure that you are in charge of me I will only laud that life as you repeat it in song; but I should also complain at this time about he who, with the strangest style, has not offered me congratulations at my birthday celebration. ANTEO: If what you say is about me, I am a rustic shepherd. I never learned how to speak about love, but rather how to fight wild animals. Since I have been quiet here, I will go to the forest in your name. I will bring back as much as I am able to hunt. In this way, with noble actions, I will communicate in deeds what I cannot say in words. SILVIO: If I too have been the cause, Echo, of the complaint you have made, be not surprised that my concern has me so paralyzed. Today also marks the anniversary of my greatest grievances, and so in their devotion my sufferings do not offer you flattery from my lips, but tears from my eyes. Twelve years has Liríope, my lovely daughter, been missing from these valleys, and all that time I have had no news of her. Today marks that anniversary. Therefore, do not be astonished to see in my sorrows such incongruous sentiments, this same day (if this luck lasts!) that your beauty turns a year older, my misfortune grows a year longer as well. BATO: Today is not a day for tears. SIRENE: May the surprise of your remarkable sorrow not rob us of our shared happiness. NISE: Let sweet harmony return to inhabit the winds. ECHO: Today I am offered to Jupiter’s temple, which lies hidden in the uncultivated woods. Since I go accompanied by all, I want to fulfill the offering now, for I could hardly do it alone without fearing the horrible, ferocious monster that hides within them. FEBO: Even though I infer how much it is a serious affliction to want to penetrate the mountaintop where this temple is nestled, its opulent structure lifts its fire to the sun. Let’s go, so that in going with you, love will make easy the greatest difficulty. SILVIO: I say the same thing to you. BATO: I do not; I am not obliged to go where an enchanted monster so many times surprised our men and our livestock. SIRENE: May the music return, and let no shepherd remain in the meadow who does not go along. SILENO: I also want to arrive at the temple, Since in it I await pity. NISE: Let the congratulations continue. FEBO: Oh, divine Echo, who could oblige your severity! SILVIO: Who could win your favor! ECHO: Who might not see herself loved! SILENO: Who might turn away his crying! BATO: Who might not have fears! MUSIC: The happy years of Echo, divine and beautiful goddess of the jungle, May gladly represents with flowers, while the Sun proudly tells their story with the stars. They exit. Narciso enters dressed in animal skins, with Liríope, also dressed in animal skins and bearing a bow and arrow, trying to detain him. LIRÍOPE: You cannot pass beyond here. NARCISSUS: How is it that you wish to detain me, when those birds that I hear generate such strange and new music to my ears that it carries me, fascinated, after its intonations? I never heard such tender voices, though I’ve listened countless times to the birds that awaken with the sun. LIRÍOPE: Those voices that you have heard, and that you take to be birds, are not. NARCISSUS: Then what are they, Mother? LIRÍOPE: It is not advisable that you know, because the fates have placed your greatest danger in them. NARCISSUS: What danger is that, if the greatest danger would be to no longer hear them? Let me follow them, to find out who so suavely breathes the intonations of their voice, uttering in tender clauses: NARCISSUS AND MUSICIANS: The happy years of Echo, divine and beautiful goddess of the jungle… LIRÍOPE: Naturally carried along by affection, he mimics them. NARCISSUS AND MUSICIANS: May gladly represents with flowers, while the Sun proudly tells their story with the stars. LIRÍOPE: That in so many years there was no one who dared to pass through this intricate denseness, and today they come with such music! NARCISSUS: Mother of mine, allow me to follow them. LIRÍOPE: Hold on! NARCISSUS: Let me go! How can I hold myself back, hearing them return to say… NARCISSUS AND MUSICIANS: May gladly represents with flowers, while the Sun proudly tells their story with the stars? LIRÍOPE: Don’t you know that you cannot venture farther than this rock, which is the dark grey barrier that conceals the threshold of this cave where the two of us live? How can you intend to break the code of my rules, the laws of my obedience? NARCISSUS: That novelty, Mother, has given me license, not merely to violate them and break them, but to speak to you more clearly. Listen to me carefully. I, from this rock, which is the line to which you ordain that I may come, have seen the various effects of this great nature. One day above that brown mountain range I spied a bird that is doubtless the queen of all the others, judging from the pride with which she lives, and the height at which she flies. This bird had, on a green nest made of straw and grass, some chicks that she fed with her own mouth while they remained naked of feathers. She scarcely saw them dressed and with wings, when, her mercies turned to rigors, she threw them from the nest, so that necessity would be their teacher throughout the course of their lives. Between those two rocks (the fault is still visible) and on the skins of other wild animals, a lioness raised some cubs that, bleeding her fierceness to them from her breasts, nourished them, until, they acquired strength, and she threw them from herself, caring for them with pride so that they would know well what she gave them as their heritage. Now, if a lioness and a bird from their bed and the nest throw out their children so that they learn to live without their mother, why, seeing as I already have the wings that within me give rise to speech (reason), and the vigor that my youthfulness flaunts, do you not send me off? Have you not told me yourself that there is more to the world than these mountains, more houses than this cave, more people than these brutes, more population than these jungles? Why then, Mother, do you rob me of liberty and deny me the gift that a bird and a lioness concede to their children, the wealth which heaven gives to those who have been born on the earth? LIRÍOPE: It pains me greatly, Narcissus, that today you reason so resolutely, because you force me to give you a response to those questions. I will do it, but not now, since I want to leave before the sun is too darkened for hunting to nourish you. On returning, I will tell you of the dangers that threaten your beauty, and the reasons why I have raised you this way; that, in coming to this understanding, you will know ho to guard yourself against them. The only thing that my voice, along with my tears, begs of you now is that you do not stray from here until I return to see you. NARCISSUS: I offer it to you on one condition, that that seductive voice I heard does not come again to my ears, because it will take much not to follow behind it, if it once more returns to say in tones so suave and tender: NARCISSUS AND MUSICIANS: The happy years of Echo, divine and beautiful goddess of the jungle, May gladly represents with flowers, while the Sun proudly tells their story with the stars. Narcissus exits. LIRÍOPE: The day that I always feared has come, that forces me to relate to Narcissus the events of my life and of his star. Gods, bestow luck today on the points of my arrows, since it was never more important to me to return quickly to our resting place. They enter from one side. Anteo enters from another side with a javelin. ANTEO: The one day that I have wanted to hunt with most diligence, my desire has not found any game, even though penetrating the entrails of this confusing undergrowth that has never or not lately felt the tread of human feet. I shall not return home without bringing back some game that I would be able to give to Echo, since I came here in her name. Liríope returns onstage. LIRÍOPE: Scarcely a timid rabbit runs about today, nor does a cowardly partridge fly. Never does game come slower than when it is hurriedly sought after. ANTEO: I sense a stirring among those branches. LIRÍOPE: I’ve heard a murmur among those leaves ANTEO: In whatever it may be I shall leave the blade of this spear bloody. LIRÍOPE: In whatever it should be, I shall see stained the tips of my arrows. But it is a man i – oh dear! Don’t shoot! Hold on! Wait! ANTEO: It has well been necessary to hear your tongue pronounce a human voice in order to suspend the action of my arm. LIRÍOPE: And well did I need to see you with all the markings of a man in order for impulse to loosen the strings of my bow. ANTEO: Human monster, who are you? LIRÍOPE: I am an unknown wild animal of these forests. And now, before you have more news of me, go back, because if you try to take another step, from my quiver of arrows to your chest you will see them fly so rapidly that they alone can stop themselves. ANTEO: If your physical markings do not deceive me, I have known by your markings that you are the wonder whom all of this region quakes in fear of. And as such, although my distrust fears two deaths together here, the first by your harpoons, the other by your strangeness, I shall knock down them both; because my admiration of you does not only intend to finish off, strange monster, whoever you are, but to carry you off with me, since I made the offer to a young lady of that which I catch today on the mountain; and it will be a noteworthy undertaking to offer you at her feet in protection of the land. LIRÍOPE: Do not desperately attempt so grand an act, for you risk your life. ANTEO: It is already impossible to stop attempting it. LIRÍOPE: Think before doing that which you dare. ANTEO: There is nothing I do not dare to do. LIRÍOPE: It will be such a risk as that of life and death. ANTEO: What are you waiting for? Shoot! LIRÍOPE: Yes, I will. Heavens! But with the excessive violence with which I wanted to endow the shot, I broke the string of the bow. ANTEO: Without a doubt, the gods desire that I achieve this victory. LIRÍOPE: Well if you have triumphed with my misfortunes, not over all my strengths. I will pummel you into a thousand pieces before you defeat me a second time. The two begin fighting. ANTEO: You do not know at all who the youth is that fights with you, who will humiliate your pride, though you might be the lioness of these mountains. LIRÍOPE: Oh, cruel world! Since I am already subject to your valor, no not bring me with you alone, let me carry with me the other half of my life. Narcissus! ANTEO: Close your lips, do not call out to one who might protect you, because, without them defending you, I shall achieve this good fortune. LIRÍOPE: Narcissus! ANTEO: Silence your tongue. They begin fighting again. Narcissus enters. NARCISSUS: I have heard the voice of my mother moaning sorrowfully, calling to me. If she herself ordered that I do not leave the cave, how is it that she calls me? Liríope shouts from far away. LIRÍOPE: Narcissus – oh, God! – my fates take me away from you! NARCISSUS: What do I hear? How is it, Mother, that you leave me, telling me from afar, without me knowing where you are, that the fates have set out to take you away from my love? The day that my soul and my life were most contentedly awaiting you, because they were waiting to find out who I am and how it is that you deny me my liberty, only your cries return, and even they are not complete, the wind usurps half of them from me. LIRÍOPE, inside: Narcissus, oh God! NARCISSUS: Oh, dear! What am I supposed to do without you alone in these woodlands, not knowing who I am and what manner of living men have, since you teach me nothing except how to speak? And even that I would pardon you for now, so that my misfortunes might not have the consolation of complaints in their payment. For my well-being, Mother, lady, come back, return to me. Do not be so ungrateful that you leave me to live among these rocks, companion of the tree trunks, of the brutes and the wild animals. What anger have I given you for you to flee from me in this manner? Have I not always lived attentive to your obedience? Do I know any more than what you, Mother, have wanted me to know? Then why do you punish me with such a strange sentence? Oh, goodness! What will I do? The voice was heard from over there. After her I will go, since I do not doubt that my tears give her pause. Travel quickly, sighs! Say that my crying is on its way, that she wait a brief moment, that only it is going to move her. But how sad it is that I do not know if I guess the course correctly or if I err in the direction of my steps, since, as this is the first time that I have left the cave, I don’t know if I guess wrongly or guess correctly. Gods, guide my feet, heavens, relieve my sorrows, sun, illuminate my senses, stars, bend my judgment, beasts, grieve at my pain, birds, echo my moaning, mountains, give me passage, trees, tell me the path, that an unhappy youth, whose own mother leaves him behind, will be justly protected by gods, heavens, sun, stars, beasts, birds, mountains, trees, rocks, and jungles. He exits. The theater is changed, now having in the foreground the door of the temple. Febo and Silvio enter first, grasping a ribbon, with Echo detaining them. Then Laura, Sirene, Libia, Sileno, and the musicians enter. FEBO: I will lose my life before I hand over the ribbon. ECHO: Look, I am here. SILVIO: May your beauty pardon me and not prevent me from keeping this ribbon, since, having fallen from your hair, I have been the one who arrived first to pick it up on that occasion. FEBO: Love never ranks its creditors in their favors; and even though I arrive last, I shall take it BATO: Don’t you realize..? FEBO: What? BATO: That it is very uncivilized to fight for a ribbon, when a yard of it costs twenty cents in a store? SILENO: If you two blamed my prolonged concern for today reminding me of my grief, and telling me that the day you see is not one for tears, how is it that you want to convert into sorrow the happiness with which we return to the temple? SILVIO: No matter what the occasion, jealousy excuses even greater extremes. ECHO: Listen to me, without having more quarreling or insisting. If the ribbon, since it is mine, is so admired by you two, be advised that right now it does not merit that appreication, for the ribbon that the wind took flying by chance from my hair is no favor, since, even though I understand nothing about love, the occasion is supposed to be taken, and the favor given. In this way, until I give it freely, please do not hold it as a favor. Returning it to me is better, so that I will later give it from my hand to one whomever I want to have it with my approval. FEBO: Even though my fears prevent me from ever hoping for such good fortune, I return the ribbon to you. He gives it back to her. SILVIO: I do as well, even though I do not believe that my desire will ever again be seen with your favor. BATO: If having returned it to you here is so that you can give it to the one who is handsomest, come then, for it is clear that it is for me. SILENO: You the most handsome? BATO: Why not? What more do I need to be it except for all the rest to agree on it today as I do? SILVIO: Since the two of us have restored to you that iris of colors, that with such glittering has been the flattery of the wind, I implore that today your beauty give us your word. Declare which of the two of us it is, as you offered to do. FEBO: Do not give such a sentence and know that, if I returned it to you, it was only in order to obey you and not because I ever presumed to merit it. That being the case, I warn you not to bestow it, since I come to be so unhappy in loving and suffering that I even fear I will lose the hope that I do not even have. SILVIO: I have not had it either, but rather more distrust, having wished to see my suffering made known. But if I have to die surrendered to doubt, it is better that my faith come stripped of its illusions to the harm (injury?), to die of disenchantment if I must die of doubt FEBO: I guess that both doubt and disillusion are necessary today. And since it is not possible for me to have the happiness for which I do not hope, I want to live today full of doubt rather than disillusioned, that in my unhappy state it is a less painful occurrence to be blessed in doubt than in certainty unfortunate. SILVIO: He loves little who, consoled in his illusion, does not love the favors of his lady. FEBO: He who has no fear of disillusionment loves even less. SILVIO: Doubt is a strange sort of pain. FEBO: I want to suffer it. SILVIO: To want to doubt is not to love. FEBO: To want to know is not to love. SILVIO: Well, I do not want to doubt. FEBO: And I do not want to know. ECHO: You declare your love for me, and you request my silence, and I will equalize the two of the doubt that you are in. May the blind god here give me the ability both to speak and remain silent. Only this way can one judge both speaking and remaining silent. I will give the ribbon to the one who gives me the greatest display of his love. FEBO: I accept the condition, and only that condition could manage to be the thing that gave wings to my boasting. I base it on this reason: it is not within me to deserve it, but it is within me to serve, and so I am able to have hope, that it is not within me to deserve it, but it is within me to make demonstrations of my love. SILVIO: I do not accept the condition, because, if I were so happy to be able to make displays of my love, I would not save them for this purpose. A perfect love never reserved them. This being the case, I fear the condition, that my steadfast heart will not be able to make one greater than what it has done thus far. Anteo enters with Liríope. ANTEO: Beautiful Echo, upon whom the heavens bestowed such favors, pretty damsels, shepherds, honor of the Arcadian soil, live, live without distrust of that monster that astounded you so painfully every time that you saw it, as it is now humble and defeated, kissing Echo’s feet. In your name I went into the wilderness, and in the wilderness I found it. Not for its admiration have I brought it here to you, nor to see how it is covered in hair, nor must you admire how it walks, but instead to hear it speak, for it is that it has a human voice like ours, that makes it so singular. Ask it questions, talk with it, and it will respond to everything. ECHO: If you know how to speak, tell us now, who are you, cruel monster? FEBO: Let your horror speak to us truthfully, how much it feels its captivity. SILVIO: Of what different species are you? SILENO: Do you know where you are? LIRÍOPE: As I can remain silent no longer, listen to me attentively: I, shepherds of Arcadia, am not, as you all presume, an irrational monster, but an unfortunate woman. If the deception has not been very obvious, if you realize that it is only because I was born to be a monster of fortune. These valleys, which are always filled with one shade of color or another, since all year round they know no month but April, were my first cradle. Would that this crystalline blueness, had then been my tomb and my cradle. I was young, and my beauty had scarcely begun to discover in its first daybreaks some pleasing charm, (permit me to say this) that the sun never saw a happy beauty. when Céfiro also began to discover it. Céfiro, a handsome young man, a son of the subtle breeze by name, because his father must have called this too, saw me in the meadow one afternoon, and, having fallen in love with me, courteously gave me to understand his love, to which the carmine of my cheeks responded, not talkative, but silently. From then on he was my shadow, and I his light, although I did no more than scorch, and he did no more than follow. Oh, how many times, how many, I saw him give hundreds upon hundreds of sighs to the winds, thousands upon thousands of tears, with neither the chisel of perseverance nor the file of attendance able to work its mark within my heart because in the end it was a diamond protected even from the nicks of the chisel and the file! His love being in despair by not being able to win my love, and driven to despair also by suffering and emoting, one afternoon that I went out to the pasture to feed a herd little white lambs, which in frolicking celebrated freedom from the fold, Céfiro approached me, and, hugging me to him like ivy to a wall, like a grapevine to an elm, said: “That which humble homage has not been able to obtain, violence will now take.” And in that moment (dearest me!) the west wind seized the two of us with such a subtle movement that I found myself flying toward the clouds without wings; since it was his father, he lent him his wings so that he would not watch his son die of love. Look, what despicable devotion! Who ever saw a campaign of love so novel? Well, while the two of us were flying like this, like a frightened partridge in the talons of a falcon, like a heron in those of a hawk. Finding myself fainting to measure our distance from the earth, I shut my eyes and I held tight to the traitorous son of the wind Oh, what embrace is as despicable as that which necessity makes one give but that one does not feel! With this fate the commanding ship of the air arrived with me to this haughty peak, the neck of which that entire turquoise globe is overwhelming with its weight. There is a dark cave in its harsh interior. Here, in its empty depths, docked the human ship, which an old man came out to receive. I will tell you all who he was later because now it is only necessary to say that he arrived, making the treachery honest with the civil excuse of love, the notion that causing us anger is rendering us homage… understand, and cover my shame with things that do not need to be heard. in order to be known, Who would believe that such a strange beginning of love had an end so close that its being born was its dying? Believe it all, for another dawn had scarcely arrived, crowned by jasmine – I don’t know whether to cry or to smile – when, absent from my arms, I saw Céfiro no longer. Why must one trust he who pretends, if he who loves proceeds this way? In the power of that failing old man, I remained. Now listen to me with more attention, because another case no less strange begins here. This was Tiresias, the clever magician, of whom you have heard it said so many times that he amazed the gods with his science, such that he read the secrets of that bound book of eleven sapphire pages, and many times I saw him announce and warn of contingent futures. How many times did he the sun, placed on its zenith, eclipse? And how many times did he make it shine radiantly from its nadir? How many times did he dresst in crimson the white moon? And how many times did he dress the stars in the gold of Ofir? Because he wanted to be the equal of Jupiter, Jupiter had him made blind and imprisoned him there. Consider me now as a captive there, and blind as well, loathing my life; and you will see the tears with which I felt my sorrows. Only one utility could my solitude procure; which was to learn his science, of events, principally by their causes in nature, to which I was more inclined. There is not a stone, a flower, a blade of glass, or a leaf, in the end, who denies its nature … but this is not for here. One day, then, that failing skeleton spoke to me in this way: “I have found through my studies that I am close to drawing my last breath. Today is when I have to die. I have nothing to leave you, oh gentle companion of my fate, except that which I am now going to tell you. You are pregnant. You will give birth to a gorgeously handsome young man. A voice and a beauty will seek his end, loving and loathing. Guard what he sees and hears.” I, already seeing the first signs of the prediction fulfilled in my childbirth and my son’s great beauty, I feared all the rest of it. In this way, without ever wanting him to stray from that cave, I lived protecting Narcissus from his dangers, raising him without letting him come to know or surmise more than I wanted him to, and in the end, without ever seeing another human being aside from me. This is the reason why I was taken to be your monster, the shepherds perhaps seeing me fleeing through the forest. But, since the heavens have wanted my secrets to be discovered, conquered as I have been by that young man, come all of you with me after my son, as it is necessary for him to live among you; aside from that fact, his reason already begins to affect him, and I do not doubt that his misfortune will kill him, seeing himself without me. And in order for you to believe me in everything that I repeated to you, that if you have heard my life sometimes referred to, and there is at least one among you who now remembers me, I, who ran through such grave storms in the restless seas of fortune, I who gave so many stories to the never-silent bugle of the fleeting fame, I who was a laughable tragedy to the theater of the world, I, paragon of suffering, I, epilogue of tormented emotion, I, figure of sighing, of crying and moaning, I am the daughter of Sileno, the unfortunate Liríope. SILENO: Oh, daughter of my soul! Let me embrace you a thousand and one times. I am Sileno. And I well deserved that the dead girl for whom I cried lives on to be embraced, to see and hear, let death come, as now I have nothing more to live for. LIRÍOPE: I am humbly at your feet , though my shame here weighs a great deal on the happiness there is within me. ECHO: Let my embrace be congratulations for such a happy event. FEBO: Here silence says more than speech is able to say. SILVIO: Until I see you all stripped of the skin that you wear, I do not dare to hug you. ANTEO: I was fortunate a thousand times over, that I managed to bring such happiness to the valley. LIRÍOPE: It will be better when you all see my son, in whom clever nature invests its perfections. Come with me to the cave where he awaits me. You will find there the most beautiful diamond yet uncut, the greatest ruby not yet polished. They exit. SILENO: Guide the way, my Liríope. ECHO: All of us will go together. FEBO: Who would stay behind rather than see the end of this adventure? BATO: Me: if one must not trust a docile woman, I say, than who would trust that one, who is so untamed and animal-like? SILVIO: We are all going. ALL: We are all going. LIRÍOPE: Let’s go then. Follow my steps. Narcissus, do not despair of my absence. I am already coming for you. Act II Liríope, Sileno, Echo, Febo, Anteo, Bato, and Sirene enter, along with all the others present at the end of the first act. LIRÍOPE: I was unhappy a thousand times over. FEBO: Listen. SILENO: Wait. ECHO: Take note. SILVIO: Take a moment. NISE: Look. ANTEO: Notice. SIRENE: Consider. LIRÍOPE: There is no consolation for me, with such a new misfortune having followed the last, that Narcissus is missing from the cave. He has never left it except for today alone, and already I suspect his death. Narcissus! Narcissus! I shout out to the heavens in vain. Without a doubt he struck out from the cave in light of me having been so late in coming here. Oh, caution, kill me! ANTEO: Do not fret, since as he has to be on this mountain, I will know how to search for him for you. ALL: We will all go. LIRÍOPE: Mine has been a cruel fortune. Narcissus! I’m nearly dying! SILENO: Oh, gods! When will complete happiness occur (or – be complete)? SILVIO: Let’s go roaming through this forest, calling for him, as he will be sure to respond. LIRÍOPE: He will not because, if we search for him in this way, he, who has never seen people, is more likely to hide than to respond to the voices. But listen to what my wit has thought up. In order for him to come in search of us, a ploy must be had. ALL: What must it be? LIRÍOPE: There is nothing that has more power to attract him than to hear music, and this being the case, dividing up, from here, singing in order to move him; let’s all go. FEBO: With Laura along for the ride,  I’ll run throughout this mountainside. SILVIO: And with Sirene I will go, penetrating that lush grove. ANTEO: And I with Libia will climb the mountain’s peak in little time. SILENO: And I, with Echo, have to measure her greatest source of pain, not pleasure. BATO: And I, with Nise, must as well enter in that leafy hell. And if our song is liked the least, we’ll howl for Echo like a beast. LIRÍOPE: Lacking law, without advice, I will search all over twice. Each one sings what he knows best. Narcissus! Oh, Narcissus! LAURA (singing): As this mountain’s hillside strums the tune of my cries, speak to me of Narcissus, oh fountains and flowers. NISE (singing): As the happy forest hums my song, of Narcissus speak to me, oh flowers and fountains. SIRENE (singing): As the mountain’s summit plays to measure my intonation, speak to me of Narcissus, oh shadows and sunshine. ECHO (singing): And as the cliffs fiddle my affection, of Narcissus speak to me, oh sunshine and shadows. LAURA: To the hillside! NISE: To the forest! SIRENE: To the summit! ECHO: To the cliff! LIRÍOPE: Hear all the men and women say it: LIRÍOPE, MUSICIANS, AND ALL: Narcissus! To the hillside, to the jungle, to the summit, to the cliff! All exit. Narcissus enters. NARCISSUS: Although it seems to me that that I hear the smooth voice of my mother, it is but a shadow that the lively breeze offers me without her body, since I have not been able to find her however far I have descended the mountain, and I am already out of breath. I will die here defeated by Weariness, though it is not he who fatigues me most, but rather Thirst. For this reason I follow the sound of the water in order for it to give me relief, which runs while saying… Music is heard within. LAURA (singing): Speak to me of Narcissus, oh fountains and flowers. NARCISSUS: But what voice is this, that so arrests me? NISE (singing): Speak to me of Narcissus, oh flowers and fountains. NARCISSUS: How does it now,from two directions want me to listen? SIRENE (singing): Of Narcissus speak to me, oh shadows and sunshine. NARCISSUS: And even three, since this other says… ECHO (singing): Speak to me of Narcissus, oh sunshine and shadows. NARCISSUS: In following after all, I follow after none. ALL: To the hillside, to the forest, to the summit, to the cliff! LIRÍOPE: Hear all the men and women calling: LIRÍOPE, MUSICIANS, AND ALL: Narcissus! NARCISSUS: How is it that, if you all call to me, rich and beautiful voices, you return from whence you came fleeing so rapidly? And not only do you not give relief to my emotions, but, turning them into insults, you hamper my speech because I follow my hearing? And as I cannot discern from which directions you speak, may the sound that the crystalline water makes among these rocks, no less sweet, give me its relief, this being the first time that to find water has caused me effort, since I never left the cave until today, where a cork oak was a less flattering basin than the one I am looking at, garnished by grasses and branches, where… LAURA (singing): Speak to me of Narcissus, oh fountains and flowers. NARCISSUS: The voice returns, speaking, to stop me… NISE (singing): Of Narcissus, speak to me, oh flowers and fountains. NARCISSUS: If it is me that you search for, why do you run from me? SIRENE (singing): Speak to me of Narcissus, oh shadows and sunshine. NARCISSUS: Since you do not give me relief, why do you block my way? ECHO (singing): Speak to me of Narcissus, oh sunshine and shadows. LIRÍOPE: Different tones chanting at one time. Hear all the men and women calling: LIRÍOPE, MUSICIANS, AND ALL: Narcissus! NARCISSUS: Well, as I hear them all and see no one, I am returning to the water. But how can I, if I still hear this voice? LAURA (singing): The illusion is a traitor and the disillusionment true. One is pain without sickness, the other sickness without pain. NARCISSUS: That voice alone would be able to hold back a thirsty man. I want to follow after the flattering music of its intonation. NISE (singing): If my ravings perhaps should reach your threshold, may pity for their suffering erase the horror of their being mine. NARCISSUS: But this one sounds closer, though I love all of them, and that one sings so sweetly. But this other one drives me out of my mind, because it has more sweetness and gives me more pleasure. Searching for it in this green denseness suits me. SIRENE (singing): Come, Death, so hidden, that no one may feel you coming, so the pleasure of dying does not bring me back to life. NARCISSUS: Upon the highest of those rocks, another sweet voice rang out that erased anew all traces of those past. ECHO (singing): Only the silence must bear witness to my torment. And yet all that I feel does not fit within all that I do not say. NARCISSUS: Heaven help me! This voice is the queen of them all, that, though I judged those I heard until now both sweet and beautiful, I swear this one has arrested me with more force. How gorgeous must be its owner, who wins through the ear two affect that are, strictly speaking, unequal in potency… LAURA (singing): One is pain without sickness, the other sickness without pain. NARCISSUS: Voice, my spirit humbling, you increase my mortal sickness… NISE (singing): May the shame of them being an illness quench the horror of it being mine. NARCISSUS: I would not want to see my life exhausted by such emotion… SIRENE (singing): So that the pleasure of dying might not bring me back to life NARCISSUS: The suffering I feel, I force myself to say it with my breath… ECHO (singing): And yet all that I feel does not fit within all that I am not saying. NARCISSUS: Divided into a thousand parts, my cares are the spoils of the wind. See something, eyes, or do not hear so much, ears. Each one sings her verse again and Echo enters. ECHO: Going in this direction, I will enter the pleasantest part of this tangled growth, saying time and time again: (singing) Only the silence must bear witness to my torment. NARCISSUS: Bird of these mountains, that with your smooth intonations are so sonorously the sweet confusion of the wind, if, between the ear and the lips, I am left, doubtful, captivated, and paralyzed, without knowing for whom is my strongest affect, to hear the crystalline water that thirstily called my name, the tune that I return to drink thirstily calls to me as well. How have you altered so my affects for the one thirst and the other that, rather than lips and ears drinking water and music, you have made my eyes drink fire, and so poisonous a fire that, to explain it, one must think that, in your own mode… NARCISSUS AND ECHO (singing): Only the silence must bear witness to my torment? ECHO: Oh uncut diamond that, poorly polished, you let shine through the soul you hide within this coarse, crude suit, I was left no less arrested upon seeing you, since, captivated, frozen, and confused, I only manage to respond to you with the same line I was just singing… (singing) And yet all that I feel does not fit within all that I am not saying. NARCISSUS: Similar, according to that, is our enthrallment so much that we both will say, you, if you respond to me, and I, if I resemble you… NARCISSUS AND ECHO (singing): Only the silence must bear witness to my torment. NARCISSUS: Who are you? ECHO: A woman. NARCISSUS: The second I have ever seen. One could even say the first, since, as I understand it, the first that I saw was no woman to me, since she never ignited in my chest such a raging fire as your voice and your appearance have ignited in my chest. Where are passing through here to go? ECHO: I come only to look for you. And in desiring to find you, as I understand it, I would value not having found you because today in you, more than I find you, I lose. NARCISSUS: Did you know me? ECHO: Not I. NARCISSUS: Well how is it that you search in this wasteland for someone you do not know? It is normal in this world for women to search for someone they do not know? ECHO: Soon you will know the cause that has brought me here. NARCISSUS: Well, say it. ECHO: Sileno! NARCISSUS: Who are you calling for? What are you trying to do? ECHO: Febo! Bato! Silvio! Anteo! NARCISSUS: You want to kill me, as if you had not already killed me. ECHO: Sirene! Liríope! Nise! Come all of you to this spot, as I have just found Narcissus! All enter. SILVIO: Called by your voice, I come. ANTEO: I come, brought by your voice. SILENO: Your intonations have given me wings. FEBO: Here is where the beautiful Echo called out. BATO AND SIRENE: As all the others arrive, let us arrive. NARCISSUS: There are so many people in the world? LIRÍOPE: It makes me happy to see you. NARCISSUS: But how is it, Mother, that you come in search of me with all of these people? SILENO: Pieces of my heart, embrace me. NARCISSUS: Hold it, all of you. And if someone must embrace me, may it be she who I am now looking at. Tell me who she is, and what you intend, Mother, because I am paralyzed, seeing such a remarkable range of faces and outfits. LIRÍOPE: Slowly you will come to know your story. SILENO: You speak well, since now is no time to tarry here. Together let us descend to the valley. There you will change your garments and hear of all the events that concern you, my handsome Narcissus. FEBO: Pardon my impudence, Sileno, and give me permission, to give to the lad, while you are making clothes for him, an animal hide that since it is new will be more suitable SILENO: I thank you very much for this courtesy. FEBO: I will go ahead to send it. (aside) And no longer busied with this, oh Love, conjure demonstrations of affection to perform for your lovely lady. Febo exits. SILVIO (aside): Oh Desires, give me lessons on how to oblige disdain. Silvio exits. SILENO: Blessed I am that I have lived to see this. ANTEO: I have had great fortune to be the instrument of this fate. Anteo exits. LIRÍOPE: Follow my steps, Narcissus, as this wilderness is no longer our homeland. Liríope exits. NARCISSUS: I have admired many things, but only one has killed me. Narcissus exits. ECHO (aside): But, judging from the sorrows that I feel within my soul, Narcissus and Echo come to be the latest of the world’s great stories. Echo exits. BATO: Sirene! SIRENE: What do you want from me? BATO: The fact that I love you, in order that you may know what bad taste I have. SIRENE: If I loved you back, mine would be worse. BATO: I deny that, with each thing in its proper amount, all is bad and nothing is good. But, this aside, as we meanwhile go about following our masters and mistresses, you will not tell me the truth? SIRENE: I am telling it. BATO: You will not keep to it, since you are not taught to do so. But let it go. I, Sirene, am a very large fool. SIRENE: Very large indeed! BATO: I swear to the sun, as I have now realized it, since I am seeing things that they are things that I am seeing without understanding them, Sirene. SIRENE: What things? BATO: Well, is there an occurrence so strange as my master Sileno having today found his savage daughter with a savage little grandson, and me having to go home now to live with them? SIRENE: Well, what does that matter? Tell. BATO: From this reaction, you clearly do not know what it is like to deal with savages. SIRENE: Bato, they are not savages, but a woman and a man. BATO: Those, as I understand it, make the worst kinds of savages once they become them. SIRENE: Have you ever seen in your life a more handsome and beautiful young man than Narcissus? BATO: You are already enamored of him, but it is nothing new for women to be pleased by savages. SIRENE: Oh, an evil fire on your tongue! What kind of woman has come to be pleased by them? BATO: What kind of woman? All of these Sirene, that I will go about saying: There is a woman who falls in love with a self-flagellator, seeing that he is such a savage that he inflicts violence on himself. There is a woman who falls in love with an acrobat, not caring that he is such a savage that he walks on air, despite the ground. There is a woman who falls in love with a bullfighter, realizing that he is such a savage that he seeks out body-to-body contact. There is a woman who falls in love with a dancer, knowing that he is such a savage that he grinds his bones to a pulp…to a beat. There is a woman who falls in love with a fencer, knowing that he is such a savage that he puts his eyes at risk. There is a woman who falls in love… SIRENE: Hold your tongue. I do not want to know any more. BATO: But I was only just beginning. SIRENE: Entertained, in effect, by your lunacies, we have arrived in the valley. BATO And having left the two of them (looking inside): at home, our company departs. SIRENE: Each one will want to go to tend to his flock. BATO: Except for Febo, who returns only to solitude. Febo enters. FEBO: Sirene, I’ve come in search of you. SIRENE: How can I be of service to you? BATO: I am leaving so as not to be in the way, and also in order to go see what our new guests are doing. Bato exits. FEBO: Since nobody, Sirene, in all of the valley knows not of the fervor with which my attentions adore Echo’s rare beauty, I will not need to repeat it now. And since you were here when – oh, goodness! – she placed a request for a demonstration of love, I am trying to win her through you. Sirene, since you are the lass whom Echo has loved the most, and that you are the preferred onein her graces. If you would like to give life to a corpse, find out for me how I will be able to most please her, since the best way to measure demonstrations of love are not by their size, Sirene, but by the occasion on which they are made. SIRENE: You need not say more. Whatever I may learn, you will see that my lips withhold nothing from you. FEBO: My longing begs this of you. SIRENE: I already told you that I will do it. And I will keep nothing from you. Sirene exits. FEBO: Who endures a greater torment than he who hopelessly adores a beauty with no faith in love? Scarcely has grey and frozen Winter turned these woodlands grey with snow when Springtime blooms, and what was frozen is now seen to be cheerful. Spring passes, and Summer suffers and endures the sun’s severity. Fertile Autumn arrives and enriches the woodlands with its greenness, the plains with its fruit. All lives subject to change. The illusions of one day after another complete a year, and this year stretches to another. A woodland endures disillusionments that, were it in lacking in hope, would already have surrendered under the weight of the years. Febo exits. Liríope and Narcissus enter. LIRÍOPE: Have you been paying attention? NARCISSUS: Yes, and all you have told me I have written in my memory and on my heart. And just so you know, Mother, having been born in the wilderness and having grown up in such seclusion, all of it relates to my having foretold in the stars that a voice and a beauty with two distinct effects, one enchanting me and one hating me, are my greatest dangers. LIRÍOPE: Well try to save yourself from them, Narcissus, considering… NARCISSUS: What? LIRÍOPE: That only you can protect yourself. NARCISSUS; Already warned of everything, Mother, I ask of you permission to go see in the valley that which I have seen on other occasions. I could learn from the shepherds such diverse practices: the way to feed the livestock, the manner of farming the land. And since I look at myself as free, today let my natural instinct owe something to my eyes, so that I do not have to get all news from my ears. LIRÍOPE: Although with some fear, I grant you permission. But, so that you may not go alone, I want one of my father’s servants to go with you that will keep you informed and give you advice on everything. Bato! Bato enters. BATO: Ma’am? LIRÍOPE: Today my fears place their trust in your clear-sightedness. Narcissus wants to go to see all the common pastures and meet the shepherds who are residents of this valley. Take him to and from there. (Aside to Bato) Do not leave him. Listen and be advised, Bato, of what I am telling you only here. Do not leave him alone speaking with any girl. BATO: I do not expect myself to do that, only because the role of the “third wheel” is a very unpleasant one, and I am contrarily inclined to it. But in the end it is making people happy, And I die to be well-liked. LIRÍOPE: You will do what I have ordered you to do. Divine gods, make better the menaces of destiny! Liríope exits. BATO: Your mother has given me a good commission. Who would have guessed that the Batos of the world might be nannies? NARCISSUS: Let’s go, Bato my friend, and walk throughout the entire valley. BATO: Let’s hit the town. NARCISSUS: What building is that over there? BATO: There? A temple of Apollo, eminent and rich. NARCISSUS: It is very fair for the gods to have their sacred space elevated, since even in the material world they should have preference over men. I will not know how to tell you how much I value having seen this golden building amidst all the other ones of straw. Anteo, within. ANTEO: I will put you all at peace, I swear to the sun, if I undo my sling. NARCISSUS: What is that? BATO: Two of Anteo’s strong young bulls are fighting over there, and he breaks them up with the sling and the whistle. NARCISSUS: Who is Anteo? BATO: A young man, the most valiant as has ever been seen in all of Arcadia. NARCISSUS: And what is it to be valiant? BATO: His having said it. NARCISSUS: Who does that flock belong to? BATO: If you must kill me with questions, Narcissus, would it not be better to just take that knife and slit my throat with it rather than bore me to death with such nonsense? NARCISSUS: I promise that I will not ask you any more. Whose flock is that one there, That from those woodlands to this valley descends in so excessive a number that it drives the very cliffs insane? BATO: It belongs to Febo, the most discreet and learned man as has ever been seen in all of Arcadia. NARCISSUS: And, tell me, what does being a learned man entail? BATO: In getting others to say it, because the same piece of wisdom, when said by two people, is seen as wit in one, and nonsense in the other. NARCISSUS: And that flock arriving there, menacingly, to the river that will exhaust its flow? BATO: Who has joined me up with you? It belongs to Silvio, the most handsome of the shepherds. NARCISSUS: And what does it mean to be handsome? BATO: In seeming to be so, a fine figure and spirit being in style. NARCISSUS: There are styles in figures? BATO: Yes. I remember having seen chests to be in fashion one year and ankles the next. And this is nothing, since in the end I recall that the dresses were what mattered, more so than faces, women having such diverse styles. NARCISSUS: Fashions, in the faces that nature made? BATO: During a time that the fasion was sleepy eyes, there was no beauty in wakefulness and everything was looking as if cross-eyed. Almond-shaped eyes were later the style, and they used to open them so wide that they made even themselves afraid. Little mouths then were of highest value, and all lips would walk through the streets puckered. Then big ones became in fashion and in that same instant mouths spread wide open, and leaving what was attractive in smallness, they placed their perfection in the cleanliness of greatness, even to showing teeth, molars, and canines. Echo is heard within. ECHO (singing): The sun and the air stir up my color; they do it from envy,, the air and the sun. NARCISSUS: Who is this (girl), who brings a flock of little white lambs, that give the impression that they are letting ermines graze? BATO: This is Echo, the most beautiful woman that the sun has ever seen. NARCISSUS: What is this, that in seeing her I lose all of my senses, and this grief, which I take pleasure in and value, descends on me, leaving me deceived by it, believing that it is happiness? BATO: Look there! those are extreme expressions of love! Try to resist them at the beginning, because you will only be able to in the beginning. ECHO (singing): The sun and the air stir up my color, they do it from envy, the air and the sun. NARCISSUS: If a voice and a beauty threaten me with punishment, let us flee from that voice and that beauty, Bato. Echo and Sirene enter. ECHO: Narcissus! NARCISSUS: Yes, lovely lady? ECHO: I much appreciate seeing you in this outfit. How do you come to be in the valley? Is this not a more pleasant place than the woodlands where you were born? NARCISSUS: If in it I may admire your beauty, not only is it better than the woodlands, but it is better than the Elysium. May God keep you. ECHO: Why are you leaving so quickly? NARCISSUS: I imagine that it is important for me to make my exit. ECHO: How so? NARCISSUS: It seems that, a voice and a beauty having been my two greatest dangers, and finding that both coexist in you, it is necessary that I flee from you; your voice is a charm and your beauty a spell. Narcissus exits. BATO: The young man wants to take care of himself. Bato exits. ECHO: Sirene, what is this that I see? There is a young man that, when I give him occasion to speak with me, – I tremble to say it! – he leaves me there, fleeing from our conversation? And no, it is not even as strange that he is able to – I am losing all sense – force himself away, but that I, seeing him depart from me, cannot help but feel it. Me, the most celebrated shepherdess that Arcadia has ever seen! I who have seen myself idolized by so man men, with all of the arrogance I have cut down, and all the vanities with which I prostrate so many, at the snub of a young boy as coarse as he is handsome do I really confess that I feel it? But alas, what has afflicted me? No one feels more acutely the rebuffs of another than she who has arrogantly destroyed the slavelike passion of all; because, in effect, it is necessary that the style be surprising when the style is another’s. SIRENE: Do not feel so much for an incident that may have happened by chance. ECHO: If you only knew what I feel within my heart – oh, Sirene! – you would not blame these extreme emotions you have seen. From the instant I laid eyes on Narcissus’ beauty, I have lived judging that I have died, and have died judging that I live. Silvio and Febo enter on either end of the stage. FEBO: What do I hear, heavens? Is it you, moaning? SILVIO: Is it your emoting? Heavens, what do I see? FEBO: You, crying? SILVIO: You, feeling? FEBO: You, tears? SILVIO: You, sighs? ECHO: This is the only thing I was missing. SILVIO: Seeing that your divine eyes collect more pearls than does the dew at daybreak, I will ask the heavens for their reward. FEBO: I, seeing that in two beautiful strings of pearls all the Olympian lands are today undone, I will give the heavens our condolences. SILVIO: I surrender happily to your voice, because this mild crying, in its tenderness, has told me that your heart knows how to feel. FEBO: Today I humble myself sadly at your feet, because this crying has told me that there is something that you have felt. ECHO: Oh, how cruel you are, Love, that having two loathsome suitors has not managed to satisfy you to give me a lover! SILVIO: Oh Febo, if I compete with you in the desire to make demonstrations of love, in this activity Echo has been more inclined to me. FEBO: In what way? SILVIO: In this way: (to Echo) Listen, and the judgment is yours to make. ECHO (aside): To hide my woes I will necessarily have to hear it. SILVIO: So rare, so unusual is the proud beauty of Echo that, not believing her to be human, I adored her as though she were divine. Today, in being inclined to cry, she raises my love’s greatest hopes: therefore, with confidence, my thoughts should so esteem her affliction since my hope is born from it. FEBO: I, from the moment I first saw Echo, always loved her as though she were divine. And even though today I witnessed her crying, I still did not believe she was human. In order to persuade me, I regret my audacity because to be divine is sufficient: my hope should therefore die of her affliction. SILVIO: That which is common in sickness is common also in love. Hence he feels no pain who knows not what pain is. Therefore, feeling that seeing her here so moved with emotion was an error, since seeing that she is indeed so moved, what she feels will be able to oblige her more compassionately to have pity on me. FEBO: I concede that only he who suffers pain may feel pity for another’s pain. And in this way my love for her feels her anguish. If her pain offers you relief because she may take pity on you, I it was the opposite.. Because it is more right that I feel her pain than that she feel pain for me. SILVIO: If I were able to remedy her anguish with my anguish, it would be wrong not to do it. FEBO: I would want to feel her pain no matter what. SILVIO: Doing it for your own benefit is not against decorum. FEBO: I do not know that. What would show greater carelessness than my profiting from the pain of the woman I love? ECHO: I have listened attentively to the tiresome competition of one and then the other, yet neither dedicates himself to my care. Neither in you nor in you have I gathered any consolation or compassion; and since the affections of one who lauds and one who cries are equals, as of now the ribbon belongs to neither. Echo exits. SILVIO: May it please Love, since in being offended you employ yourself in insulting me, that whoever you may love, might see you as whiny and loathsome. Silvio exits. FEBO: This my voice shall not ask of the heavens. It is better that you loathe in this way, as it is here what my fierce sorrows want most, that in exchange for you loving no one, you might abhor me. Oh, Sirene! Tell me, what will I do, if there is something you have found out that could give me some relief in this sea of my misfortunes? SIRENE: Just one thing. FEBO: What is it? SIRENE: Forgetting about it. FEBO: Without a doubt you have seen my desires to be hopeless, since the prescription is forgetting, which is love’s sepulcher. SIRENE: I would do wrong if I did not tell you what I know, since you have confided your pain to my heart. Echo cannot love you. And her disdain has not been so general that she has not prostrated herself before… FEBO: Whom? SIRENE: …Narcissus. FEBO: Oh, Sirene! You have done a bad thing… SIRENE: In doing what? FEBO: In having told me that. SIRENE: Haven’t you asked me for it? FEBO: Yes. But you should not have told it to me all the same, since whatever the jealous man wanted to know, he really did not want to know. And since it was not in my power to not ask you, it was in yours not to tell me. SIRENE: Even though, Febo, you give me this lesson too late, I propose that I repay you for it with another. Never desire to learn what is hidden from a woman, if you must regret hearing it. Sirene exits. FEBO: Flowers of this pleasant valley, trunks of these tall cliffs, birds of this gentle wind, brutes of these haughty woodlands, shepherds of these fertile shores, flocks of these ? folds, beauties of this rolling countryside, crystals of these flowing rivers, all of you were witnesses to my fortunate love, may you now also be witnesses to my unfortunate jealousy. Bato and Narcissus enter. BATO: Where are you going? NARCISSUS: I do not know what it is, but no matter how hard I resist, I cannot any longer. I am going back to see that beauty that I left behind. BATO: But she is no longer here. NARCISSUS: Tell me, my shepherd friend, (to Febo) who rests upon your staff seeming so arrested and confused, if you have seen Echo, the honor of these mountains, anywhere throughout these valleys? FEBO: Answer to this staff of holly, (threatening him dyed in your purple hue. with his staff) Well, no, I ought not make you unhappy because your love makes you glad. Live, arrogant and vain young man, as I do not want to take vengeance on anyone but myself. You are not to blame for loving the one who loved you, and I am for having loved the one who loathed me. Febo exits. NARCISSUS: What is this, Bato? BATO: What do you expect, if you inadvertently ask a man who adores Echo about her? NARCISSUS: What a cold venom have you given me in that word running straight from my ear to my heart, so varied that at once I am scorched and I shiver, alternating between burning ice and freezing fire? BATO: You gave as much to Febo. NARCISSUS: And tell me, Bato my friend, is Febo loved by Echo? BATO: No, she has always detested him. NARCISSUS: You have lifted half the weight from my senses, so that though the ice burns, it is made tepid, and though the fire freezes, it is made warm. Echo enters. ECHO: It is better that my pain be professed at once. Narcissus, I come in search of you. NARCISSUS: Seeing that she comes looking for me, (aside) took away the other half, since had she not come in search of me, I would have gone for her. How can I serve you? ECHO: By listening to me. (aside) I will sing it to him, the better to oblige him with my voice. BATO: I want to give Liríope warning of these extreme expressions of love, since I am not strong enough to resist them. Bato exits. ECHO (singing): Most handsome Narcissus, who brings harshness to these pleasant valleys of the woodlands in which you were born, listen to my sorrows, as they should oblige you – not because they are mine, but only because they are sorrows. Love knows with how much shame I come to speak with you, and I neither doubt nor fear that you also know it, if you pay attention to the color rising in my cheeks to give me away, the violet blush and the pale whiteness alternating moment by moment, because in each breath, which are effectively only air, my face is changed like a chameleon of love. Since the very first day I went looking for you in the wilderness and I was the first to find you in its lonely retreats, my life surrendered its liberties to your beauty, your strangeness making a charm for my arrogance, so that, even though the diamond of your heart was so coarsely uncut, it offered a glimpse of your many carats. I am Echo, the most sumptuous shepherdess of these valleys. Beautiful my misfortunes could say, because, in the worship of the altars in the temple of Love, few lamps burn of those both beautiful and happy. That entire ocean of fleeces is mine which, with its woolen waves, ebbs and flows from that tall rock to this green riverbank, grazing among emeralds and drinking crystals. It is all mine. No shepherds tend to it who do not live on my wages both attentively and loyally. I offer all of it at your feet; and do not imagine because my affections come to beg you today that they are born, in my practice, of any habit of frivolity: knowing, handsome youth, that nothing can oblige me except to be your wife, but rather to declare my love, so that you have in me someone always firm and steadfast, a soul that would adore you, a heart that would love you, a faith that would laud you, a knot that would wrap around you, attention that would serve you, love that would shower you with gifts, desire that would oblige you, concern that would please you. And if these submissions cannot oblige you, sorrowful, confused, blind, mute, captivated, cowardly, unhappy, afflicted you will see devote myself to my feelings so much that my lamenting complaints. the air mingled with my cries may boast because the enamored Echo has been transformed into air, NARCISSUS: Your intensity had created experiences within my heart, all the more to your advantage. It is bad, divine Echo, that you have declared to me your love, since I so clearly deduce that, my free will laid before you, I now would have told you of my own love for you if you had kept silent about yours. In searching for you my vexed sorrow brings you grief comparable to your own, with which, the tables already turned, you may see the distance that exists between begging and being begged. Without taking notice of fate, my love came to you already conquered. What I see in good favor is so much more than I used to see despised. In this way, do not tell me of your love, nor hope in your lifetime to see that your light has scorched me, since with the knowledge that you love me. I will live happily. ECHO: Listen, wait, pause, take a moment. NARCISSUS: Let go of my hand. As she grasps his hand, Silvio enters. SILVIO: What is it that my eyes see here? ECHO: Listen to me. NARCISSUS: It will be in vain. ECHO: Oh, Narcissus, my love, my treasure! NARCISSUS: I will not hear you. SILVIO: How is it that I suffer my offenses in this way? NARCISSUS: Leave me be. ECHO: Do you run from me? NARCISSUS: Yes. SILVIO: Who ever saw greater misfortune? ECHO: May the heavens avenge me on you. SILVIO: If you ask that the heavens avenge you, – how cruel! – my torment can request with greater sorrow that they avenge me on both you and him. I suppose, vixen, that he offended you here, and since both of you together offended me, I will avenge myself on him, since I cannot avenge myself on you. Upstart of a young man, who alone from this eminent wilderness increases my rage, son of the wind, you descend, and even though it is not your fault that Echo comes to love you but rather hers, and even though I have to partly be grateful to you, seeing how much good fortune you spurn as your own master, how far outside the realm of reason it is that the laws of jealousy must order that he who is beloved dies and not the one who loves. Without any doubt it was a woman who first introduced those laws, since they condemn the instrument and not the one who does the offending. In this way, having already been accepted, that the grievances that women cause us be avenged on men, I am forced to avenge myself on you even though it must pain me that you are such a tender young man that in vanquishing you I do nothing. ECHO: Silvio, look…! I am dead! NARCISSUS: Oh, my unhappiness! ECHO: I warned you…! She puts herself in front of him. SILVIO: However much you defend him, you irritate me to kill him all the more. NARCISSUS: Do not defend me anymore. Leave it so that he meet my arms, since what valor there is in my arms that will know, Echo, how to defeat him. The two men fight, and Narcissus falls. SILVIO: How is that, since you are already at my feet? Die happily, since it is the crime for lovers to be happy. He goes to take the dagger in hand and finish him. Febo enters and intervenes, stopping him. FEBO: Hold it! Do not kill him! SILVIO: You will stop it? FEBO: It is only because you do not have news of my cause for doing so. Febo, if you had them, you would help me kill him. FEBO: I would not, since I save him knowing rather than not knowing. Being loved by someone does not merit dying. SILVIO: Oh, what pitiful jealousy you have, that you do not desire a million deaths on the man whom your lady loves! FEBO: On the contrary, my jealousy is noble, as it today seeks to open the world’s eyes to the error suffered on that part. Wanting what I want, almost coming to be flattery, since it proves my good taste. Being fortunate in being loved is a boon of good luck. Why must I make unfortunate he whom the heavens made more fortunate? Aside from that, all that is the pleasure of my lady is always so sacred to me (although my taste seem strange, whether I err in this or get it right), that I have to defend it, in order to not give her the sorrow of offending that which she loves. SILVIO: In love, Febo, there is no sophistry. And be warned that in jealousy there is never nobility. A man feels what he feels. And so I must kill him because she favors him, even though I may have to appreciate the fact that he scorns Echo. FEBO: He scorns Echo? SILVIO: Yes. FEBO: Now I too will give him his death, because she whom I love must not be a man who despises her. SILVIO: Now I will defend him, being aware that my love is thus obliged. FEBO: Oh, what a despicable love you have, that you want to kill him who Echo loves, and save him who despises her! And thus I am obliged to avenge her of this rebuff. SILVIO: I must keep it by him. FEBO: Let he who wins follow his own opinion. Febo and Silvio begin to fight. ECHO: What great disorder do I see? Shepherds of this mountain, come bestow your help on me, halting the misfortune that now transpires before my eyes. Anteo, Sileno, Bato, Liríope, and the others enter. ANTEO: What is this? Silvio, Febo, control yourselves now that I am here. SILENO: Narcissus, you already have a fight in the valley? NARCISSUS: I have two, as two enemies here are trying to kill me. LIRÍOPE: With what hurry the fates do declare to us that you have your risk in a beauty! BATO: I, without being an astrologer, said it, because “Who does not always have his risk in a beauty a thousand times over, or even in a hag? SILENO: What is all this about, pretty Echo? ECHO: Only about being unfortunate. Echo exits. ANTEO: What is all this about, Silvio? SILVIO: It’s me being unhappy. Febo, you tell them about it. Silvio exits. LIRÍOPE: What is all this about, Febo? FEBO: I don’t know. Narcissus can explain it. Febo exits. SILENO: Narcissus, what is all this about? NARCISSUS: I don’t know what’s happening to me. Narcissus exits. ANTEO: Bato, since you went to call for us, tell us as clearly as you can what this is all about. BATO: Being unfortunate. That’s what those people will tell you. Bato exits. SILENO: Let us follow them, so that they may not come see each other again before they are made to be friends. Sileno exits. ANTEO: Let us go, even though it appears to me that it will be impossible to be friends when a lady intervenes: friendships that survive jealousies have rarely been seen. Anteo exits. LIRÍOPE: Heavens, since you are already giving me such clear indications that the danger that your stars predicted for Narcisso lies in Echo’s beauty, give me the courage to remedy the threats before the executions begin. Make useful that which I have learned so that the harm is corrected: before it happens, I must put a thousand obstacles in its path, if – arrogant, daring, and intense – I know how to disrupt all of the orbs of that celestial machine, my prodigies seeing it fall from its regular axes. Liríope exits. Act III Febo, Silvio, and Anteo enter. ANTEO: You all must do this for me, since you have no reason not to be friends. FEBO: Little do you know what it is to love deeply, since you say that the two of us have no reason not to be friends when we both love the same scornful woman. SILVIO: How is it possible for a man to be friends with one who loves who he loves, his jealousy filled  with rage over it? ANTEO: Although I understand little of love’s heartache, it seems to me that when you see that both of you are equally detested and neither is preferred, you can be friends, since that which obliges such jealous feelings in any lover is the fact that he wins the hope or desire that you lose. With neither of you having more favor or hope than the other, to want to work out the duel is more than what the law commands. FEBO: That is a good enough reason not to quarrel with him, but not enough to be his friend. SILVIO: Febo has answered well in that friendship is one thing, but competition is another. ANTEO: Well, according to that distinction, I am content with you not being enemies, if you do not want to be friends. FEBO: I regretfully give you my word. SILVIO: I do as well. But I warn that the larger quarrel remains; just because, Anteo, I give my word with respect to Febo, who is equal with me in my sorrows, I do not with respect to Narcissus. If Echo loves him, I have to avenge myself of her on him. FEBO: And I, but not because she appears to adore him, which is his good fortune and not his fault; instead, because he disdains her, since I have to see that no one treats badly the one I love the most. ANTEO: Before talking to the two of you, I spoke with the same young man you speak of, and he offered to prevent any further occasions in which he displeases one of you, either by scorning her or loving her. And since the three of you are ageed on this count, note that your competition is now my charge, and see that he who breaks their word will have to quarrel with me later. Anteo exits. SILVIO: Who ever arrived at greater misfortune than the handsome youth who came face to face with disappointment? FEBO: Who ever arrived at greater happiness than the lover who came to have a failed love affair? SILVIO: Well, he who was deceived lived happily, because it is one thing to not to know and another to suffer. FEBO: Well, as much as the deceived one loved, he was unfortunate, because there is no evil like he who kills in secret without being known. SILVIO: Oh, he who, being deceived, loved all his life… FEBO: Oh, he who had this same disappointment that he had before… SILVIO: So that the pain is never felt… FEBO: So that the cruel pain had always been felt… SILVIO: That in a love… FEBO: A faith… SILVIO: There is nothing like not knowing it! FEBO: There is nothing like knowing it! Echo enters. ECHO: Silvio and Febo are here. How much I regret that I must hear once more their tiring competition! FEBO: Echo is what my eyes see. SILVIO: Echo is what I see. FEBO: Give me the courage, feelings, to stop seeing her. SILVIO: So as not to talk to her, moans, make an effort. FEBO: Echo, may the gods watch over you. Febo exits. SILVIO: May the heavens give you life. Silvio exits. ECHO: How is it that the two of them, without speaking to me, walk away in this fashion? Who will believe that I regretted finding them here when I arrived, since I was just afraid that they would talk to me of their love, and now afterwards I feel bad that they absented themselves without mentioning it? But what a thing, what a thing if in effect the woman who has forgotten the most suitors has most loathed them, even the complaints of that which she disdains sound good, which is a ceremonious vanity to see oneself wanted, one that is not appreciated, annd later, it is missed. Bato and Narcissus enter. BATO: Where are you going? NARCISSUS: I am going hunting in the woodlands, Bato, since I want to see if with absence I can better defeat this cruel passion, because in all my life I am not to listen to her nor talk to her, since my danger resided within her. ECHO: Here he comes. What will I do? NARCISSUS: She is here. Let us flee before she comes to speak with me. ECHO: But what is this? Do I doubt what I have to do? Do I not here come to feel that the two I detested left just now without speaking to me? Well, that which was venom in them shall be medicine for him. Take courage, heart. Prevail at least once. Narcissus! NARCISSUS: What is you want, Echo? ECHO: That the heavens give you life. Echo exits. NARCISSUS: How do you leave without saying anything more to me? BATO: By walking on her feet. NARCISSUS: Does she already not feel the disappointments I handed her, Bato, since she gives me no complaints? BATO: It seems to me that she does not. NARCISSUS: Who would come to sorry about the one she came to woo? BATO: She who courted one who she was to regret. ECHO: Is this being in love? Yes. But, by hiding it and because Narcissus also judges that I feel nothing for him, in singing I want to undo him. If she who sings scares away all her evils, how is it that I frighten away what I most want? Echo exits. NARCISSUS: But what does it matter that she leaves like this? BATO: Nothing, if you look hard at it. NARCISSUS: It doesn’t matter, except it matters very much. BATO: Mind it, and (Narcissus control your hand. hitting him) ECHO: If all is suffering for (singing within) those who deeply love, and if there is no happiness in loving deeply, loving be damned! NARCISSUS: Amen! BATO: Amen! But what are you so annoyed by? NARCISSUS: By the song. BATO: You speak well, that singing is very bad form for a spurned woman. NARCISSUS: Let us flee from here, Bato, since if I hear it again it will carry me to it. BATO: You speak beautifully. Let us go to the woodlands. ECHO (inside): Lovers be damned! NARCISSUS: Amen! BATO: Amen! NARCISSUS: Hold a moment. That voice is a bugle of love that has collected all my desires in my ear. Leaving me behind without paying attention to me, so ferocious and so cruel, yet singing so happily and freely…it is necessary that one feels it. Come with me, I want to make you a witness to my protests. BATO: Well, where must we go? NARCISSUS: Following her. BATO: She obliges you now? NARCISSUS: I don’t know; but, I am sad to see that she is happy, just because she sings I would follow even if she did not sing well. Pretty Echo, wait, listen… Liríope enters and stops him. LIRÍOPE: Hold your tongue and your step, Narcissus. NARCISSUS: How is that possible, when I heard her say… Echo, inside, and Narcissus, outside, repeat the verse: ECHO AND NARCISSUS: If all is suffering for those who deeply love, and if there is no happiness in loving deeply, lovers be damned! Amen! Amen! LIRÍOPE: Is it possible that, knowing how the influence of your fate, which so cruelly threatens you, is written in that blue canopy with golden pens and rosy letters, you still want to open its pages and read from its chapters? Don’t you know that that beauty and that voice at some point began to declare themselves your enemy when on the heels of two jealous lovers you arrived to defend one danger in the other? Well, believe the warning there, thanking the heavens that are so much on your side as to make sure you listen to the voice of thunder before it strikes you with lightening. NARCISSUS: I confess to you that you are right to distrust and to fear. But to conquer oneself, I ask, “Who could have managed it?” LIRÍOPE: He who, seeing the harm in advance, fled from it. NARCISSUS: If that is enough, I will flee. I am going to the woodlands to hunt, and I will not return to the valley until I can return having forgotten this dubious faith, that one day is all loving and the next, all loathing. And so, in another sense, I will go with her saying… ECHO AND NARCISSUS: If all is suffering for those who deeply love, and if there is no happiness in loving deeply, lovers be damned! Amen! Amen! Narcissus exits. LIRÍOPE: Even in this todday the heavens give you a most loyal warning, that in loathing and loving Destiny is yours also. Go with him, Bato. BATO: I am going. A bad commission it is of following around a master who hands out sorrow and loves deeply. Bato exits. LIRÍOPE: Heavens, his fortune has already been declared. And since I came to recognize the cause of Narcissus’ endangerment, how will it have served me if I cannot remedy that cause, how will it have served me how much I learned from Tiresias, how much I read about and studied in solitude? Let us take advantage of the knowledge for knowledge, if left unused, serves nothing. His two great dangers are seen in Echo’s voice and beauty. Let us destroy one of them in order that to leave the other imperfect. Among the things I know about the great natural world, I know a venom, the most cruel that any infinite abundance of power ever produced. This hinders the tongue in such a way that it renders its victim incapable of speech, for the reason that it uses neither pronouncing nor learning anything but the last thing she hears. This powerful, crude venom, part opiate and part venomous flower, is so powerful that it must produce lethargy in Echo. So efficiently does it do its harm that it will not be necessary that she drink it, it will be enough that she step on some in order for it to run quickly to the heart through its contact with her foot. I have it concocted, and I will put it on the path she walks upon. Let Echo’s voice die, but it is her voice that could so move Narcissus, which, since I could not manage to raise him without his seeing a woman, I must save him in some other way, and if this is not enough to produce the effect that I want, I will leave behind the secrets produced by the earth, and my miracles will rise to this clear canopy of the heavens. I will unfasten the stars from their epicycle, and this great loyal horde of celestial bodies will lose its rosiness. I will stain the face of the moon, I will disorder the sun’s complexion and, the heavens growing tongue-tied, I will cause ruin to threaten the grand, pretty republic from one end to the other so much so that the globe of the earth may fear whether it will fall or not fall to one movement or another. Liríope exits. Narcissus and Bato enter. BATO: Follow that deer that still flies like the wind, though struck by an arrow. NARCISSUS: How, transformed into a bird, flying today with only one wing as flawlessly as you are, oh deer, and with your back so mortally wounded, do you return with equal promptness, when you go about leaving coral in how many emerald footsteps? BATO: It has entered into the denseness, to die by bleeding out in the stream. NARCISSUS: You go. Finish it off, because I, exhausted and fatigued, can go no further than here. BATO: I can’t either. And I believe now that it must the truth… NARCISSUS: That says what? BATO: That running makes you tired, because it has surely tired me out. NARCISSUS: Let’s stay among those pretty branches a little while, since impede the red glow of the sun, while the Dog Star of the heavens barks at the sun. BATO: You speak very well. Let us rest here a short while, as the place invites us to. And since we see ourselves with no other thing to talk about, why don’t we talk about hunting? Is there any greater foolishness than following a buck in this heat, sir, if the hunt in the shade of a dispensary hunt is much better and less tiring NARCISSUS: No, because the pleasure of killing it is what is valued here. BATO: I thought the pleasure was in broiling it or breading it. NARCISSUS: Listening to you I think offends a noble exercise such as this. BATO: Just imagine that there is no forest like a kitchen, or woods like a pantry. NARCISSUS: Leave the subject of the hunt alone. BATO: What, then, if this so pains you, will you talk about? NARCISSUS: About Echo I would like… BATO: Well, that is also a kind of hunt, though it’s a hunt of large game. NARCISSUS: Forever…But what noise is this? BATO: The wounded deer bathed in foam and blood, has returned this way. NARCISSUS: You collect it, as I am so exhausted that I cannot. BATO: I will do it, sir, and as I will go to collect it, provided he wants to pay himself to me. Bato exits, and Narcissus discovers the spring. NARCISSUS: I will wait on the gratifying banks of this spring. Will I dare to drink the crystals of its fountain, without distrusting or fearing that my feelings will perhaps be arrested for a second time by the nymph of these waters? But it will not happen, and it cannot be an insult for me to come to her for a drink, if she is offfering it to me. Oh, I was born such a naďve boy! Oh, what a stupid fool I was raised to be! I never heard from anyone whether he who dared to drink their crystal insulted the nymphs or flattered them. But, if it is a flattering deity, to relieve my suffering, it must necessarily be generous. Oh you, the first water nymph whom I thirstily came to asking for consolation and relief, do not take offense now that I dare to come to you myself! Who ever saw a beauty equal to the one I now see? Her arrow-wielding nymph (how fortunate!) is a living fire within the pure snow. Not without fright and distrust do my fears come to see in another world of ice, other trees and flowers, other woodlands and other heavens. (He shows As she heard my voice, himself at the she came out in order to respond to me. fountain) A beautiful surprise, for whom it is right that I now sacrifice my life and soul, tell me if I will be able to – oh, goodness! – quench my thirst in the crystal waters you are guarding. She says yes, now though only with gestures. although my speech and my will understand them, I trust,, there is no doubt in them, since, although on speaking to her, she is silent, she laughs when I laugh. I never saw such divine beauty. I will drink, since you give me your permission. As I drew nearer to the crystal, she drew closer as well. Her beauty (how admired!) is dressed like me. Two trees rightly dress in the same bark if they have a single heart. I will drink, then. But, annoyances, why do I find contrary insults in your clear remains? How is it that what is ice on one’s lips is fire in their eyes? How is such fire set upon me when I come to the water? How (I am mute, I am blind), if fire kills water, does water here ignites the fire? From the moment I saw you, oh beauty, I felt that I had died. This praise alone comes well here that I love you as I love myself, and since I do not love myself more than you, I would die for you. Why do you neither talk nor respond? But from you hiding your voice I infer a second kind of good fortune, because, if my harsh fate in voice and beauty seeks an atrocious end of my life, your not having a voice results in you having another kind of beauty. Do you want to give me your hand? Love lives, she brings it near! Today I win great favor. But – oh, goodness! – it is in vain that achieve such a prize, because – oh, incomparable sorrow! – in going to grasp it, mad with love, her celestial light is unsettled; And I touch only the crystal and not the crystal’s soul. Narcissus remains distracted by the brook. Echo enters. ECHO: From the company of the valley, that is more tiring than amusing, my anxieties come fleeing. to the solitude of the woodlands, I come crying to this brook, in whose calm surroundings my melancholy is in the habit of’ amusing itself, because, the water is an instrument of sorrows, and this, in sweet accord, with string of glass plays golden frets and ambar bows. Many times I came here to distract myself from my misfortunes, but of all of them – oh, heavens! – none with greater cause, such that, restlessly confused, I don’t know what I feel in my soul like the blows within my chest are tearing out my heart. But, what do I see? Narcissus arrested by it with such rapt attention that I believe he is actually the spring’s statue I do not want him to be persuaded that I have followed him, so I must hide myself among these green branches. NARCISSUS: As you, beautiful prodigy, only look at me and remain silent, I do no more than look at you and remain silent. But this is enough, because, since I can see you, what greater happiness could I want? ECHO: Who is he talking to, and telling such loving things? Were the rebuffs not enough, but now I must endure jealousy too? But what instance of love lacks jealousy? I want to get closer, since he has his back to me and will not see me. My foolish distrust has no doubt that on the other side there is some beautiful lass that he is talking to. NARCISSUS: What a divinity you are, what a sovereign deity! Echo seemed pretty to me before I saw you. But since I’ve seen you, she is not even your shadow. ECHO: What does my suffering await that isn’t already cried aloud, seeing how he showers another with praise at my cost? But I see no one. And since I cannot see from here, I must attempt to see her from behind him, if he who slowly kills me also leaves me the courage. Echo appears behind Narcissus at the spring. NARCISSUS: Echo is lovely, but you… Oh, how terrible! In naming her, she set herself beside the one I adore. Echo is within the water. How is it possible? But – oh, what a shame! – my misfortunes will have facilitated Echo’s entrance, or her jealousy, in my nymph’s crystal palace. Do not believe what she says to you about my offense, because she deceives you in everything she tells you. ECHO: She does not deceive, Narcissus. NARCISSUS: Heavens! Who has been seen in such doubt! How is it that, if her body is over there, her voice sounds as if it is here? What the soul endures is a strange confusion in this case. How are you here if you are in the crystalline palace of these waters? Have you two bodies at once? My sight, shocked to see you in two places, is frightened with wonder. He looks again at Echo, and leaves the spring. ECHO: Listen! NARCISSUS: Leave me. But my voice insults you in vain. Pretty Echo of my eyes, if you want me, if you love me, if you come to look for me in the woodlands, make your great demonstrations of love in telling me how you entered this silver palace, and how you left it so quickly, so that I may go where you departed from to see the sovereign deity of these waters. ECHO: Wait, Narcissus, pause, stop, since as great as my sorrow is, your ignorance is even greater. Who do you see in this spring, and with whom in this spring are you speaking, if the only thing inside it is a false shadow, the reflection that the water offers to our eyes, since it is a crystal that draws a portrait of our bodies feigns that object of sight? NARCISSUS: I know, Echo, that you deceive me, because you intend to dissuade me from my love and my hope. I have seen the gorgeous nymph of these waters, whose rare perfection gave snow to the woodlands, purple dye to the carnation, mother-of-pearl to the rose, candor to the jasmine, rosiness to the dawn, golden plaits to the sun itself, and silver hands to the crystal. It is no pretend shadow, no, but her in her considerable estate, among other forests and heavens, other woodlands and other plants, which she has left in order to see me. Come, come to see her, since she is here even now. ECHO: Oh, if the pain would give me relief so that I could dispel your ignorance in order to once and for all take revenge on your vanity! But the pain itself may give me the strength to do it, so that I, in spite of his cruelty, will know how to defeat him. Narcissus, that deity in the water that you see… Oh! I don’t know what I was about to say. What strange sorrow! To carry on, remind me of what I was talking about. NARCISSUS: The deity in these waters. ECHO: Yes, that. That shadow, that your fantasy vainly presumes is the nymph that guards this place, is … How will I tell you this? I lack even an explanation. I so readily doubt what I am at the same time saying truthfully, and not only the concept, but also the words… Who are you that is here with me? NARCISSUS: Why do ask that if you are talking to me? I am Narcissus. ECHO: Narcissus. NARCISSUS: Why are you frightened? ECHO: Frightened? NARCISSUS: Well, mustn’t I be frightened to see in you such a change? What were you saying? ECHO: Saying? NARCISSUS: Yes. Don’t keep anything silent. ECHO: Silent. (aside) But I am lying, since I am going to say a thousand things and my baffled tongue will pronounce only what it hears. NARCISSUS: What strange confusion! Echo! ECHO: Echo! NARCISSUS: What is this? ECHO: This? NARICISSUS: What do you feel? Speak. ECHO: Speak. NARCISSUS: There is no doubt that, since she wanted to offend the sovereign deity of these waters, the nymph has taken this vengeance, seizing her voice from her. It already astonishes me to see her. I will flee from her. She holds me back, and can only profess her pain in signs. She tears at her heart with her own hands. What is it that you want? ECHO: You want? NARCISSUS: You detain me and call out to me? You tell me. ECHO: You tell me. NARCISSUS: Let go! ECHO: Let go! NARCISSUS: Enough! ECHO: Enough! Bato enters. BATO: I have not been able to return earlier, because … but I won’t have been missed if you have been so well entertained, sir. NARCISSUS: I have not, but very poorly, because I do not know what is happening to my life. Speak with Echo. Perhaps she will here be able to talk to you in a less baffled manner than with me. And keep her from following after me, as I am going throughout all of those mountains in search of musicians, who can come to sing for the sovereign nymph of these waters, to whom I gave over my being, my life, and my soul. Narcissus exits. BATO: Now we have another story! What nymph or what gourd, my lady, is this? ECHO: This? BATO: Yes. ECHO: Yes. BATO: What lovely coolness you use . Do not follow him. ECHO: Do not follow him. Echo wants to go after Narcissus, and Bato detains her. BATO: Do not follow him, and your soul, which I must keep with me, a bit must wait. ECHO: Wait. BATO: I said, what is it, my lady? ECHO: My lady? BATO: Me a lady? She must be drunk. (aside) I just said what you were thinking. ECHO: You were thinking? BATO: I wasn’t thinking anything. ECHO: Anything. BATO: You say what you hear? Since when are you a parrot? She makes desperate gestures. Filled with mortal anxieties, she beats her breast. Fear of her already pushes me away. ECHO: Away. (aside) On the inside,to myself, I can speak without articulating a single word, my vocal organ lacking the ability to pronounce them, even though I have no idea why. For the rest of my life, no human being will see my face. Fleeing from populated areas, I will go to the harsh mountains and, hidden in the deepest caverns, within them, sad and confused, repeating to those who pass by only the last syllable of what they say. Harsh mountains of Arcadia, noble shepherds, pretty lasses, white flocks of sheep, green tree trunks, clear fountains, Echo your friend is already departed from you. Do not look for her, for she goes to live somewhere hidden in the harsh depths of the woodlands, hopelessly enamored of Narcissus. But if you want to know about her, speak to her from the valleys, and I here give my word to respond to all, crying with those who cry, and singing with those who sing. Echo exits. BATO: Men, what is this that has struck Echo, that she does not speak anything except what she hears? Oh, would that I might know the cause to sell it! Because think how many men would pay me their weight in gold so that their women and ladies, no matter how much they talk to them, might never respond with even a single word all day! And how many women, how many would also pay for the cure, that their men would not say anything but what they wanted them to! Sirene enters. SIRENE: They said that Echo was here, and I’ve come looking for her. BATO: Oh, if misfortune today had such (aside) good taste that it had stolen speech from Sirene too! What is it, Sirene? SIRENE: Oh, how this stupid fool (aside) fatigues me! I do not want to speak to him so that he will leave me be and go elsewhere. BATO: What, you don’t respond to me either? And what, you speak in signs, also? You don’t talk? What a beautiful thing! Congratulations, gentlemen! From today onward, all the women of the world are quieted! A general plague has come to carry off all their speech. SIRENE: A pox on you, since I will say, every afternoon and morning anything that comes into my noggin. BATO: I was already frightened of being so fortunate. Febo enters. FEBO: Where do my anxieties carry me after a divine impossibility, lacking both good fortune and hope? Bato! BATO: What is it, Febo? FEBO: By any stroke of luck, in the midst of this intricate denseness, which diverse Nature coarsely knitted knowing that sometimes what is without art is most wise, have did you see the divine Echo? BATO: I didn’t see her, but I saw Echo the human, because if she were divine she wouldn’t have suffered such misfortunes. FEBO: What misfortunes? BATO: The greatest that could happen to a lass, Febo. FEBO: How? Was there some tyrannous horror of a beast that bled out her life? BATO: Worse. FEBO: Did she fall from one of these mighty cliffs? BATO: Worse. FEBO: Did the torrent of this river become her silver sepulcher? BATO: Worse. FEBO: Worse than drowning, falling from a cliff, and being mauled? BATO: Yes. FEBO: What was it? BATO: She lost her ability to speak, which for a woman is the worst of all. FEBO: A thousand and one curses on you, for now speaking to me in jest! BATO: I was speaking truthfully just now, because I saw her here lacking the ability to say more than a single word. FEBO: Her sorrows may have been the reason for that. BATO: But do not be too distressed, as Sirene was silent here also, 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.      PAGE 1 monte alto means woodlands or forest. lines 13-16 - A lovely translation and image sculpted isn't a literal translation of "cuajada" – but the Diccionario de Autoridades defines “cuajar la nieve, y otras cosas” as “lo mismo que unirse sus partículas y solidarse. = the hut dedicated? pagan,, not human sacrifice?  (if you say “woods” These uses of the past subjunctive all serve to declare a counter-factual wish. discurso can be speech, or reason - English makes us choose, unfortunately Spanish uses definite articles where English employs frequently employs personal pronouns or possessive adjectives. I think you could say "Well have I needed..." or something of the sort. past subjunctive this is a request, subjunctive a thousand times unhappy (?) – I think this expresses degree, not repitition.  I like your experiment with rhyming, even if it’s not literal. “tocar” in these several instances here doesn’t mean to play, but it fell to me, it’s my lot, my turn. As in the hillside fell to Laura, etc. You’ve put a lot of imagination in these verbs ‘tho, so let’s leave it. sweet? affect is an old word for passions of the soul, stronger than affection today you can use either “do not say” or “am not saying” here and before, as you prefer. zagalejo can also mean “lad” or really “laddie” but since we don’t use that in American English, best to stick to lad. The idea this suggests is that he was first attired Tarzan style in some old hide, and Febo means to give him a new one. technically “master”, in courtly love discourse – if you translate it literally, and with handsome, it sounds like queer love, and the object of his affections is Echo, so I’d say lovely. The structure of these sentences is really, “there is a woman” Or just The woman who falls in love… He refers to the favor she said she’d give to whom she chose when Febo and Silvio were fighting over a ribbon the wind took from her hair. So I’d say “it” rather than her. literally, it does say “stops” or ends, but that ‘s not the cause and effect relationship at work here Perfect! Also means neighbors, but “vecinos” is the technical word for residents in early modern Spain Excellently done passage The standard scene of court plays for a humble village was a scene of straw-roofed little houses, so I think Calderón is painting that scene with words here, in contrast to the temple. literal – my dictionary says jarife is a variente of jerife, which can mean descended of Mohammed, and I think I remember that little mouths were considered a beauty sign in Arab culture, so there may be a play on that, but it would take more research than we have time for now!  Or youth; but rapaz does mean a bird of prey too, ‘tho, so you could use it; “albricias” are the gift or reward given to one bringing good news, or in celebration of a happy event playing with two meanings of sentir, to feel joy and feel regret, sorry, grief I like your addition of an adjective, like fertile, rolling, etc. to balanee the first lines, but I can’t think of one for a sheepfold; beastly sounds negative – maybe guarded? secure? certain? vacillating sounds more poetic, but the icy fire of love is a Petrarchan commonplace perfect! Las soledades is a famous poem by Góngora - about unpopulated countryside to which a rejected courtly lover retreats another commonplace in early modern Spanish literature, that beauty always brings misfortune drinking crystalline waters? for the rhythm? content? This isn’t literal, but the impersonal subjunctive sounds really awkward in English This is logical, but grammatically, “a tu dama” means the man who loves your lady. I’m not sure here , but the pronoun “le” seems to indicate that Anteo is saying he will now defend Narcissus Same meaning, although technically, it says “jealousy being rage” I think the punctuation of the edition we’re using is wrong, that this sentence continues . I think it should be spring rather than fountain here, since this is a pastoral setting a voces means cried out or loudly or you could say fickleness, changeableness, or inconstancy He doesn’t dive into the waters or - feeling or, is already absent from you? de estancia – as stay or sojourn – as word play against “de paso” the preposition “a” indicates that Echo is the object, that he seeks Echo’s love, not vice-versa. alto empleo here means high-placed profession (or dedication, or use) in love. You may fine a better way to translate it, ‘tho. I would suggest “self” instead of “reflection,” since the ignorance is not knowing what a reflection is. 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