They all crowded around Byblis and spoke to her, for they were frightened because the river of the child’s tears had traced in the earth a sinuous track which was slowly extending towards the plain.
But now Byblis could hear nothing, neither voices, footsteps, nor the night wind. Her attitude little by little became eternal. Her skin had assumed beneath the deluge of tears the smooth white tint of marble washed by the waters. The wind would not have disturbed one of her hairs which were as long as her arms. She died like pure marble. A vague light still illuminated her vision. Suddenly it went out; but fresh tears still flowed from her eyes.
In that way was Byblis changed into a fountain.
LÊDA
There was not light enough in which to clearly see any creature or thing; it was twilight, the time of the gauzy haze that haunts our dreams.
Moonbeams were beginning to light up the blackest branches of trees: moonlight and the shine of flinching silver stars.