Orpheus and Eurydice

“Causa viae est coniunx, in quam calcata venenum
vipera diffudit crescentesque abstulit annos.
posse pati volui nec me temptasse negabo:
vicit Amor. supera deus hic bene notus in ora est,
an sit et hic, dubito. sed et hic tamen auguror esse;
famaque si veteris non est mentita rapinae,
vos quoque iunxit Amor. per ego haec loca plena timoris,
per chaos hoc ingens vastique silentia regni,
Eurydices, oro, properata retexite fata.
omnia debemur vobis, paulumque morati
serius aut citius sedem properamus ad unam.
tendimus huc omnes, haec est domus ultima, vosque
humani generis longissima regna tenetis.
haec quoque, cum iustos matura peregerit annos,
iuris erit vestri: pro munere poscimus usum.
quod si fata negant veniam pro coniuge, certum est
nolle redire mihi: leto gaudete duorum.”

Talia dicentem nervosque ad verba moventem
exsangues flebant animae: nec Tantalus undam
captavit refugam, stupuitque Ixionis orbis,
nec carpsere iecur volucres, urnisque vacarunt
Belides, inque tuo sedisti, Sisyphe, saxo.
tunc primum lacrimis victarum carmine fama est
Eumenidum maduisse genas. nec regia coniunx
sustinet oranti nec qui regit ima negare,
Eurydicenque vocant. umbras erat illa recentes
inter et incessit passu de vulnere tardo.
hanc simul et legem Rhodopeius accipit Orpheus,
ne flectat retro sua lumina, donec Avernas
exierit valles: aut inrita dona futura.

carpitur acclivis per muta silentia trames,
arduus, obscurus, caligine densus opaca.
nec procul afuerunt telluris margine summae:
hic, ne deficeret, metuens avidusque videndi
flexit amans oculos; et protinus illa relapsa est,
bracchiaque intendens prendique et prendere certans
nil nisi cedentes infelix arripit auras.
iamque iterum moriens non est de coniuge quicquam
questa suo: quid enim nisi se quereretur amatam?
supremumque “vale,” quod iam vix auribus ille
acciperet, dixit revolutaque rursus eodem est.

“My wife is the reason for my journey, into whom a viper that she stepped on injected its venom and deprived her of her coming years. I wanted to bear it, and will not deny that I tried, but Love overcame me. In the lands above, he is a celebrated God. Whether the same holds here, too, I do not know for certain, but I have an inkling that he is present even here, since, unless the tale that long ago you stole your wife away is untrue, it was Love that joined you and her together. By these places so full of fear, by this vast chaos and the silent spaces of this your enormous realm I pray you, re-weave the threads of Eurydice’s life, too quickly past! We, and all things, are a debt owed to you, and, though we tarry a while, some sooner, some later, we all make our way to one abode. This is the destination of us all, this is our last home, and long, long will be your reign over the human race. Eurydice, too, will be subject to your law when she is of an age, and has lived out the years that are justly hers: as a boon, we beg that she may have the use of them. And if the fates deny my wife mercy, I am quite sure that I do not wish to go back: rejoice, then, in the deaths of two!” As he sang these words while he played the strings of his lyre, the bloodless ghosts wept for him: Tantalus no longer reached for the water that receded before him, Ixion’s wheel came to a halt in stunned amazement, the vultures left off pecking at Tityus’s liver, the Danaïds stopped plying their urns and you, Sisyphus, sat down upon your rock. Then, the story runs, the cheeks of the Furies, overcome by the song, were wet with tears for the first time. The Queen cannot resist his plea, nor can he who rules the world beneath deny it, and they summon Eurydice. She was among the new shades, and came up at a pace that was slowed by her injury. Orpheus, the bard of Rhodope, received her, and with her the rule that he should not turn his eyes behind him until he had left the vales of Avernus, or his gift would be in vain. The path taken by them, unspeaking and in silence, was steep, dark and thickly veiled in mist. They were not far off from the margin of the land above, when Orpheus, filled with love and fearing that she might not be with him, and fiercely longing for the sight of her, turned back his eyes – and straight away she fell back, and the unhappy man, stretching out his arms and straining to hold her and be held, grasped nothing but her receding, airy form. And dying now a second time, she uttered no complaint against her husband: what complaint could she make, except that she was loved? She spoke a final “goodbye”, barely detectable to her husband’s ears, and fell back again to the same place as before.