There was once a man named Orpheus, who lived in the land of Thrace. It
was said that his father was Apollo, and his mother the muse Calliope;
so it is not strange that he was both poet and musician. So enchanting
was the music of his lyre that wild animals came forth from their haunts
to hear him. Even trees and rocks seemed to feel the magic influence of
the strain.
He had a beautiful wife named Eurydice, whom he loved dearly, and they
were happy together till a sad accident separated them. She was bitten
one day by a poisonous serpent, and died from the effects of the wound.
There was no more happiness on earth for Orpheus, and he determined to
seek Eurydice in the underworld of the dead.
Now the gates of the lower regions were guarded by a three-headed dog
named Cerberus, but even this fierce beast was subdued by the entrancing
music of Orpheus, who
"Through the unsubstantial realm
Populous with phantom ghosts of buried men,
Undaunted passed to where Persephone
Sits by the monarch of that cheerless folk
Of shadows throned--and struck his lyre, and sang."
Pouring forth the mournful tale of his lost love, he appealed to the
gods to give him back Eurydice. So eloquent was his plea that all who
listened were "moved to weeping." Then for the first time the iron
cheeks of the Furies were wet with tears, and
"Of the nether realm
Nor King nor Queen had heart to say him nay."
Eurydice was brought forth and restored to her husband, but a single
condition was laid upon Orpheus in leading her out. Until they had
regained the earth he was not to look backward, or the boon would be
forfeited. The Latin poet Ovid tells how the two fared forth together
from the underworld, and how Orpheus failed in the conditions of the
agreement.
"Through the silent realm
Upward against the steep and fronting hill
Dark with obscurest gloom, the way he led:
And now the upper air was all but won,
When fearful lest the toil o'ertask her strength
And yearning to behold the form he loved,
An instant back he looked,--and back the shade
That instant fled....
...One last
And sad 'Farewell,' scarce audible, she sighed,
And vanished to the ghosts that late she left."[32]
[32] From the Metamorphoses, Book x, in Henry King's translation, from
which also the other quotations are drawn.
[Illustration: D. Anderson, Photo. John Andrew & Son, Sc.