Orpheus and Eurydice

There is no doubting the strength of the love that Orpheus has for Eurydice, and no reason to doubt hers, either. Orpheus mourns her death without ceasing, as Virgil states: “Of you, sweet wife, of you, he sang this sorry song, / all lonesome on the shore, at dawning of the day, of you, at day’s decline, of you” (Lines 13-14). Death cannot destroy love, and Orpheus bravely follows the call of love on his hazardous mission to Hades. Even at the end of the myth, Virgil indicates, when Orpheus’s severed head floats down the river, he still twice utters Eurydice’s name. He never forgets her.

However, if true love cannot be broken, it can certainly be vulnerable. The depth of Orpheus’s love also exposes him to danger, which is most apparent on his ill-fated return to the upper world with his beloved. His protective, loving heart proves in this situation to be his downfall. He values love more than he respects authority. While Virgil takes the view that Orpheus’s backward glance is a moment of self-indulgence for which he must take the blame, Ovid is kinder and more understanding, inserting a small but telling detail in the lead up to the fateful incident. After the gods agree to grant Orpheus’s request, Eurydice is fetched, and she is still limping from her wound—Ovid’s way to create sympathy not only for her but also for Orpheus. On the journey, Orpheus fears that Eurydice must be finding the upward path arduous, and she might not make it—after all, she has a limp—so what could be more understandable (and necessary) than glancing back to check? In Ovid’s version, Orpheus’s decision-making is dominated by love. No doubt when he made the pact with the underworld gods, he intended to honor it, but then circumstances change, and a husband’s concern wins out over an instruction from the lords of the netherworld designed to test him.

Orpheus’s status as a musician possessed of an almost unfathomable gift also makes him vulnerable, since such an individual does not live in the mundane, day-to-day world of rules and regulations that most people inhabit. On the contrary, Orpheus is a boundary-breaker who follows the demands of his creative art. These qualities make him an artist, but do not serve him well when faced with the need to subordinate his true nature and his perceived need of the moment to the arbitrary will of the gods. Elated by his initial success at persuading the gods to allow Eurydice to escape through the power of his music, he believes he has risen above divine laws. The exquisite sensibility and refined emotions that fuel his genius become undisciplined.

After losing Eurydice for the second time, Orpheus becomes a vulnerable, fragile human being facing disabling grief—weeping for seven months, according to Virgil. His music still has a transformative effect on nature, but now he spreads lamentation rather than joy. Moreover, Ovid states that Eurydice’s second death “Stole Orpheus’ wits away” (Book 10, Line 65). He sits on the river bank, “Unkempt and fasting, anguish, grief and tears / his nourishment, and cursed Hell’s cruelty” (Lines 78-79). Orpheus dares to love with all his heart, which him makes vulnerable to the vicissitudes of fate.