Narcissus, a Twelfe Night Merriment

In Short

This curious work is a "Twelfe Night Merriment," a short, boisterous play written and performed by students at S. John’s College, Oxford, in 1602. Based on the third book of Ovid's Metamorphoses, it recounts the familiar tale of Narcissus, the youth who pines for his own reflection. Unlike a standard classical tragedy, the play is peppered with anachronistic humor, hunting songs, and meta-theatrical jokes. It has survived as a vibrant, idiosyncratic artifact, preserving a moment of collegiate spontaneity that bridges the gap between academic exercise and popular performance.

The Story

The narrative begins with a domestic consultation. Cephisus and his wife Liriope, the parents of the beautiful youth Narcissus, seek the counsel of the prophet Tiresias. Dressed in a bishop’s rochet, Tiresias delivers a cryptic warning: Narcissus will live a long life only if he does not come to know himself. Liriope, skeptical and sharp-tongued, dismisses the prophecy as the rambling of a dotard, confident that her son will thrive regardless.

The tone shifts quickly from mythic foreboding to collegiate banter. Two students, Dorastus and Clinias, navigate the world with a mixture of academic arrogance and street-smart posturing, mocking the prophet and flattering Narcissus for his striking looks. Their cynicism is mirrored by the nymphs Florida and Clois, who attempt to woo the youth. Narcissus, however, is consumed by a "dira superbia"—a dire pride—and rebuffs their advances with cold, haughty indifference. He has no interest in love, preferring the company of his dogs to the pursuit of goddesses.

The play’s central conflict arrives with the entrance of Echo. Unlike the classical figure of silent longing, this Echo engages in a spirited, acerbic verbal sparring match with the other characters. Her dialogue is characterized by the repetition of the final syllables of her interlocutors' words, turning their insults into taunts. She becomes the instrument of the youth's undoing when he encounters a magical well.

As Narcissus gazes into the water, he falls instantly in love with his own image, unaware that it is a reflection. His decline is rapid; he wastes away, his beauty fading as his obsession deepens. In his final moments, he laments his vanity, declaring, "I dye; farewell, O boy belov'd in vaine." But the play refuses to remain a pure tragedy. As he dies and sinks into the earth, he resurfaces—not as a ghost, but as a "daffa downe dilly," a daffodil. The play concludes with a meta-theatrical epilogue delivered by the College Porter, who dismisses the effort as inferior to professional theatre, yet insists on his own importance to the night's festivities. The text is rounded out by the Porter’s own humorous apologies for his various collegiate misdeeds, including letting fiddlers into the hall.

How It Unfolds

The prophecy of the river The parents of Narcissus consult Tiresias, who warns that their son’s life depends upon self-ignorance. The parents react with frustration, while Liriope stubbornly vows to defy fate.

The vanity of youth Dorastus and Clinias enter, using the prophecy as a springboard for jests and shallow flattery. They introduce the theme of Narcissus’s legendary pride, setting the stage for his rejection of the local nymphs.

The rejection of the nymphs Florida and Clois attempt to woo the handsome youth, only to be met with biting sarcasm. Narcissus dismisses their love as an "ungodly" distraction, preferring the hunt to the heart.

The echo of the forest Echo engages in a series of sharp verbal duels with the male characters, echoing their own insults back at them. This sequence serves as a comedic bridge, heightening the tension before the youth reaches the fateful well.

The transformation Narcissus encounters the well and falls into his own trap of self-love. His physical decay is swift, leading to his metamorphosis into a flower.

The Porter’s curtain call The college porter takes the stage to offer a critique of the performance. He reminds the audience of his own stature, ending the night with a blend of self-importance and irreverent charm.

The People

Narcissus stands at the center as a figure of "dira superbia." He is not a tragic hero of great depth but a beautiful, scornful youth whose singular fault—an inability to look past his own reflection—leads to his literal transformation into a plant.

Tiresias acts as the voice of traditional authority, though his bishop’s robes reveal the play’s penchant for dressing antiquity in contemporary academic attire. He is less a divine mouthpiece and more a reluctant advisor to a family that refuses to take him seriously.

Dorastus and Clinias function as the play's chorus and comic relief. They are "towne borne lads" who represent the intellectual and social energy of the student body. Their desire for entertainment and their penchant for "oddes" (quarrels) provide the drive that pushes the plot forward.

Finally, the Porter acts as the link between the stage and the audience. A "privileged humourist," he is a shrewd, combative figure who speaks directly to the audience, grounding the airy myth in the gritty, specific realities of a college servant’s life.

In Its Own Voice

The play’s dialogue frequently slips into playful, nonsensical vernacular that captures the students' improvisational spirit.

"A gull is hee that weares a velvett gowne, And when a wench is brave dare not speake to her."

The author provides this biting definition of a "gull" or fool in the supplementary epigrams, setting a tone of sharp, youthful mockery that pervades the entire collection.

"O furious fates, O three thread-thrumming sisters, O fickle fortune, thou, thou art the mistres Of this mishapp; why am I longer liver?"

Cephisus laments the destiny of his son in this mock-heroic style, which perfectly illustrates the play’s tendency to treat classical tragedy with a knowing, humorous wink.

What It's Really About

At its heart, the play explores the tension between classical tradition and the irreverent reality of collegiate life. By transplanting Ovid’s myth to a university setting, the authors ask what happens when "high" art is filtered through the minds of young, ambitious, and occasionally bored students. It addresses the vanity of youth, not just in the character of Narcissus, but in the performance itself—a display of wit, learning, and self-consciousness. The central question is whether the "wise" pronouncements of antiquity have any relevance to the "gulls" and "skipiackes" of the modern world, suggesting that while the myths persist, the humans who perform them will always bring their own, very different, baggage to the stage.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the meta-theatrical playfulness of A Midsummer Night’s Dream will find much to love here. It offers an unfiltered glimpse into the headspace of early 17th-century students—a world of Latin tags, bawdy jests, and intense, competitive wit. The experience of reading it is similar to uncovering a time capsule that hasn't been polished for a modern audience; you encounter the rough edges, the peculiar spellings, and the occasional confusing colloquialism, all of which lend it a genuine, human quality.

However, the reader must be prepared for the hurdles of its period language and the "irregular spelling" that characterizes the manuscript. It is a dense, sometimes cryptic text that demands patience and a willingness to engage with the explanatory notes. Because it was written for a specific audience at a specific moment in history, some of the jokes—particularly the satirical jabs at college figures—may feel distant. Yet, for those interested in the history of English drama or the enduring power of the Narcissus myth to remain a source of both tragedy and comedy, the work offers a rare, intimate connection to the academic spirit of the past. It is an imperfect, charming, and deeply honest piece of theater.