Eurydice

Eurydice was born a nymph, one of the spirits who inhabited the rivers and meadows of Thrace, the wild region of northern Greece that bordered the Hellespont, the narrow strait that separates Europe from Asia. She was beautiful, gentle, and young, and she caught the eye of Orpheus, the son of Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry, and Oeagrus, a Thracian king. Orpheus was the greatest musician who ever lived. His voice could charm the trees into moving their roots, his lyre could tame wild animals, and his songs were so powerful that even the rocks of the mountains would roll toward him to hear better. He fell in love with Eurydice, and she with him, and they were married in a ceremony that the nymphs and gods themselves attended.

The tragedy struck soon after. While Eurydice was walking through a meadow in the Vale of Tempe, a valley in Thessaly where the river Peneus ran between Mount Olympus, the home of the gods, and Mount Ossa, she stepped upon a snake hidden in the grass. The serpent struck her ankle, and the venom killed her instantly. Some said she was fleeing from Aristaeus, a rustic god who desired her; others said she was simply gathering flowers with her nymph companions. Either way, she died young and beautiful, and her body was laid in a tomb while Orpheus wept with a grief that no music could soothe.

Orpheus could not accept her death. He took his lyre and descended into the Underworld, the realm of shadows and silence where the dead dwelt forever, ruled by Hades, the god of the dead, and Persephone, the maiden who had become queen of the darkness after her abduction by Hades. Orpheus played his lyre at the gates of the Underworld, and his music was so beautiful that Cerberus, the three-headed hound who guarded the entrance, lay down and slept. The Furies, the spirits of vengeance who tormented the wicked, wept tears of sorrow. Even Hades and Persephone were moved. The king of the dead listened to the song of Orpheus and agreed to release Eurydice on one condition: Orpheus must lead her up the path to the world of the living, but he must not look back at her until they had both reached the surface. If he turned before she was fully in the light, she would be lost forever.

Orpheus agreed. He led Eurydice up the dark path, through the caverns of the Underworld, past the river Styx, the boundary between the living and the dead, and toward the faint light of the upper world. Eurydice followed in silence, her footsteps soft behind him, her hand perhaps touching his, though no account tells if they touched. She was still a shadow, not yet flesh, and she needed only the final steps into daylight to be restored. But Orpheus, consumed by doubt and love, could not bear the silence. He needed to see her, to know that she was truly there. At the very threshold of the upper world, just before the light, he turned his head.

Eurydice vanished. She dissolved into the darkness like mist in the sun, her form fading before his eyes. She spoke one last time, or perhaps Orpheus heard her voice in the silence, telling him that his love had failed at the final step. She was drawn back into the depths, and the gates of the Underworld closed behind her. Orpheus was left alone at the entrance, his lyre silent, his heart broken beyond repair. He tried to descend again, but the gods would not permit it. The dead do not return twice.

Orpheus wandered the earth in despair, shunning the company of women and singing only songs of grief. Eventually he was torn apart by the Maenads, the frenzied women who worshipped Dionysus, the god of wine and ecstasy, or by Thracian women enraged by his rejection of them. His head and lyre floated down the river Hebrus, the great river of Thrace, still singing, and were carried to the island of Lesbos. Eurydice remained in the Underworld, and in some tellings she was reunited with Orpheus after his death, the two shades walking together in the Elysian Fields, the blessed meadow where the virtuous dead found peace.