It is an image t s ists soul. In me, too, Narcissus, suco express one day and so you.quot;

    quot;rayed unknoo ps secrets.quot;

    quot;Youre mocking me.quot;

    quot;O exist noive mind, but y, it exists as an image in tists soul. tly ;

    quot;Yes, t sounds quite plausible.quot;

    quot;ell, and no you o ideas and to basic images, you are on mind-ground, in t t, at ter of ttlefield of life, at ter of tence, ts tive mind. Look, I o to me as a boy. In you, t t of a t t of an artist. But it is mind, and it is t  of ternal seesa and despair. Ao ed for it—since t your teaco be yourself. No;

    It seemed to Goldmund t  it  from above, clearly seeing its teps: urn, tion, turity and .

    t ting relationso Narcissus. It ions one of equality and reciprocity.  of t ion, since tion to tive poimes he also worried.

    quot;Narcissus,quot; ;Im afraid you dont knoer. Im no monk, nor do I  poverty, but I love neitity nor obedience; tues dont seem very manly to me. And I  all left of piety. I  confessed or prayed or taken communion in years.quot;

    Narcissus remained calm. quot;You seem to   afraid of t. You need not pride yourself any longer on your many sins. You  la Im not inviting you to enter ting you to be our guest and to set up a  forget t, during your adolescent years, it o tever y as  to see o ask you to leave again.quot;

    Goldmund ion every time ed t,  assurance and a  of mockery of people and life in t Narcissus rue, a man of te  a man