A Child's Book of Myths and Enchantment Tales  by Margaret Evans Price

Orpheus and Eurydice

O NCE on a spring morning, Orpheus sat on a hilltop high above the world, singing and playing his lute. He sang of the spring flowers and the south wind in the trees. He made rippling melodies that sounded like the waters of fountains and tiny streams. But above all these he sang of Eurydice and his love for her.

As he played, the tall treetops bowed their heads to listen, and daffodils raised their budded stems and opened wide to hear him.

Pan and all the satyrs came running and leaping through the woods. The centaurs, who were half man and half horse, smiled to hear the music. They thought such things as mortals do in spring time, although their four feet tingled with the happiness which horses feel when they gallop over the green grass in April.

The nymphs wakened in wooded bowers and, fastening their tunics on their shoulders, hurried out to listen.

Eurydice herself opened her eyes and thought sweetly, "It is Orpheus." She dressed, and twined a garland in her hair, then ran toward the hilltop where he sang.

From all sides came birds and nymphs, fauns and dryads, all hurrying toward Orpheus. Little spotted snakes crawled up from their homes in the ground and wriggled through the grass. The tiny orange-colored serpent, whose bite means death, rose also and lifted his head to listen.

Now Aristaeus, the keeper of bees, came running. His garden lay far away from the hill, but he had heard the faint echo of Orpheus' lute.

He saw Eurydice and called to her to wait for him, but she ran on. Aristaeus tried to overtake her, but Eurydice ran more rapidly than ever. She did not want to talk to Aristaeus, but cared only to find Orpheus and sit beside him as he played.

She turned back to look at Aristaeus as he followed. At that moment she set her foot on the poisonous serpent which wriggled across her path. A fiery tongue darted out and struck Eurydice's heel, and she fell to the grass.

As Aristaeus drew nearer, he saw the earth opened. He saw the river Styx, and heard the far-off barking of Cerberus. Charon, the hoary boatman, waited to row her across.

Eurydice floated away. Still looking back toward the hill where Orpheus played, she put her hand in Charon's and disappeared across the dark water into the realm of Erebus.

On the hilltop Orpheus sang and watched for Eurydice, wondering why she did not come. Every other nymph and dryad, and indeed all the living things of the forest, had gathered to listen, except Eurydice, his beloved. At length he saw Aristaeus come stumbling and weeping up the hillside.

"Eurydice is dead," said Aristaeus, "and gone with Charon across the river."

"Then I will follow," said Orpheus.

He touched his lute, and at the sound of his music sadness swept over the earth. The centaurs wept and walked away. The animals of the forest slunk back to their dens. The nymphs and dryads threw themselves on the grass and mourned. The rocks shed tears, and the earth, hearing the sad music, opened the same crevice through which Eurydice had passed and allowed Orpheus to follow.

Orpheus touched his lute, and sadness swept over the earth.

At the sound of his lute, Charon came ferrying back over the water and rowed Orpheus across to the land of the shades. Cerberus ceased his barking and lay down as Orpheus passed.

Through the long avenues under the earth and through the great caverns of Erebus he wandered, seeking Eurydice and playing on his lute. Never before had such sounds stolen through the quiet kingdom of Pluto. The shades forgot their drowsy sadness and came thronging to hear.

Through the long avenues under the earth wandered Orpheus.

Again they remembered the earth, and the sunshine and rain, and the sadness of loving.

Passing through crowds of ghosts, Orpheus came to the throne of Pluto and Proserpina, and sang of his sorrow:

"O gods of the underworld, to whom all who live must come, hear my words. I am Orpheus, son of Apollo, and I seek my beloved, Eurydice. Let me lead her to the earth, or I myself will remain here, for I cannot return alone."

As his fingers strayed over the lute strings, such sorrowful music spread through Erebus that the shades began to weep. The daughters of Danaus rested from their task of drawing water in a sieve. Tantalus, who was doomed to eternal thirst, for a moment forgot his misery and listened to the song of Orpheus. For the first time, the cheeks of the Furies were wet with tears.

Proserpina's heart was filled with pity, and Pluto himself could not resist Orpheus' prayer. They sent for Eurydice, who was in a distant cavern with the newly arrived shades.

Past the dark lakes and under arches of hanging crystals she came, trying to find her way toward the music which she heard from far off.

Past the dark lakes and under arches of crystals came Eurydice.

Orpheus was allowed to take her away with him, but Pluto warned him that he must not look at her or speak to her until they reached the upper air. So Orpheus went ahead, and Eurydice followed close behind him.

Orpheus was allowed to take Eurydice away, but he must not look at her or speak to her until they reached the upper air.

Through dark passages and by the shores of many lakes they hurried without a word, until they reached the banks of the river Styx. Here the aged boatman ferried them across. Now they ran more swiftly than before in their eagerness to reach the open air.

When they had come nearly to the entrance, Orpheus felt a terrible fear that Eurydice might not be following. Forgetting the warning of Pluto, he turned and saw her lovely face smiling at him. Then instantly, with a cry of farewell, Eurydice was borne away.

Their arms reached toward each other, but embraced only the empty air. Orpheus could hear the faint sweet call of her voice as she vanished forever into the depths of Erebus.

He would have turned back and followed her, but Charon would not row him across the Styx.

For seven whole days Orpheus waited, pleading with Charon, but the grim boatman still refused. Though Orpheus played on his lute, and moved oaks and mountains with the power of his music, he could not prevail upon the gods of Erebus again, nor could he enter the dark kingdom a second time.

The rest of his life he lived in sadness and loneliness, only waiting for the time when he might die and join Eurydice.

At last death came to Orpheus. Charon ferried him across the river Styx to where Eurydice awaited him. Nor were they ever separated again, but hand in hand roamed forever through the shadowy land of Erebus.