Orpheus and Euydice

I am Orpheus, son of a king and a muse, pupil of Apollo and the greatest of singers. I taught humans to make music and play the lyre. My music charmed animals, birds and fish, made trees and rocks dance, and caused mighty rivers to change course. My songs have tamed wild men and beasts. I voyaged with Jason, silenced the sirens and taught men divine secrets. No mortal was my equal in the art of music.

"Orpheus", Roman mosaic, c. AD 200–250
(Regional Archaeological Museum Antonio Salinas, Palermo)

However, all such achievements are nothing compared to the love I had for the beautiful Eurydice. Words and song almost fail the passion and devotion she inspired in me. However, our time together was fated to be short. On our wedding day, while my beloved was dancing with the nymphs, she was bitten by a snake. I saw her fall and I rushed to her side; already, however, the serpent’s poison had robbed her of life.

My distress knew no bounds, and I expressed it as best as I could, in song. Such singing came from the depths of my grief and were said to crystalise sorrow and grief in the hearts of all who heard me: men, spirits and the gods themselves. These divinities were so moved by my song that they told me the way to the realm of the dead and counselled me to sing my grief before its king and queen.

Barring the way to the abode of the dead was the great hound Cerebus. However, I sang gently to lull it to sleep. Thus armed with song, I descended and came before the dread thrones of Hades and Persephone, the Lord and Lady of the Dead. There I sang of my grief and abandon at losing my beloved Eurydice, and so moved them that they granted her to return with me to the land of sunshine and life. However, they laid on me one condition: I was not to look back at her while in the land of death. If I did, she would remain a wraith and be snatched back to the shades.

So I was reunited with my beloved Eurydice and we began the ascent to the land of the living. All that journey I could hear her ghostly tread behind me. Finally, we reached the cave entrance that leads to our world. I leapt into the sunshine rejoicing and turned to my beloved. However, she had not yet exited the cave and thus had not fully left the kingdom of Hades. I saw her only a brief second before she was snatched back to the shades of the dead and I found the way barred to me: no mortal may go that way twice. It seemed to me that she had died anew.

Now I, Orpheus, wander and sing of her who was life to me, whom I tried to restore to life but, because of my rash impatience, was denied a second chance of life. I thus live my sorrow and await death when I will go to be with her.

Auguste Rodin, "Orpheus and Eurydice", 1893.
(Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York)