The Alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan
had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.
The Alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who
knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated
by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot
where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.
He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the
forest appeared and found the lake, which has been fresh water, transformed
into a lake of salty tears.
“Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked.
“I weep for Narcissus”, the lake replied.
“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus”, they
said, “for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could
contemplate his beauty close at hand”.
“But.. was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.
“Who better that you to know that?” the goddesses said in
wonder. “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate
himself!”
The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:
“I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus
was beautiful. I weep because each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see
in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”