15th May, 2025 in Folklore

The tale of Orpheus and Eurydice

By Adam Bushnell

A folk tale extracted from the new book Folk Tales for Health and Wellbeing by Adam Bushnell for Mental Health Awareness Week.

A famous tale from Ancient Greece is a tragic story of love and loss. Yet, it also contains the power of undying hope. It is a story of endurance and persistence. It’s also just a great story.

Orpheus and Eurydice

Orpheus was a musician of unparalleled talent, his melodies so exquisite that they could make the very stars pause in their celestial dance. He plucked his string kithara with grace, he played his tortoiseshell chelys lyre with skill and blew the double-reeded aulos so that each note seemed to sing with the voice of the gods.

His own voice, rich and resonant,wove through the air like a golden thread, enchanting all who heard it. One day, as Orpheus wandered through an ancient forest, his song rose like a lark’s call at dawn, filling the woods with its ethereal beauty. In the distance, he spotted a group of girls, their laughter tinkling like silver bells as they played among the trees. Undeterred, he continued singing, each note a beacon drawing him closer. These were no ordinary girls; they
were wood nymphs, mystical beings capable of transforming from maiden to tree and back again at will.

As Orpheus neared, the nymphs, startled by his presence, gasped and morphed into slender trees, their leaves trembling. All but one. This wood nymph, named Eurydice, stood rooted in place, captivated by the musician’s presence. Her smile, shy yet radiant, mirrored the sun breaking through morning mist.

‘Hello,’ Orpheus greeted her, his voice a caress.

‘Greetings,’ Eurydice replied softly, her cheeks tinged with the blush of dawn.

‘You’re very pretty,’ Orpheus said, his own face flushing with admiration.

‘You’re very handsome,’ Eurydice responded, her bright eyes sparkling.

They talked and talked and eventually decided that they could not be parted. Their love was so instant and passionate
that they decided to marry. Their decision made, they climbed to the top of a hill, seeking the favour of the gods of Olympus. In a blaze of light and a clap of thunder, Hera, queen of the gods, materialised before them. She glowed with a brilliance that rivalled the midday sun, her smile a cascade of light. With a voice like the ringing of a thousand golden bells, she declared them husband and wife, then vanished as suddenly as she had appeared. Orpheus and Eurydice, now bound by love and divine decree, were overjoyed.

‘We’re married!’ they exclaimed in unison, their voices blending in perfect harmony.

‘Play me some music! Sing me a song! I want to dance!’ Eurydice urged, her joy overflowing.

Orpheus nodded, picking up his lyre, and began to play. He sang too as Eurydice twirled and danced. Her movements were as fluid and graceful as a stream in spring. But suddenly, she stumbled, a sharp pain shooting through her leg. She looked down to see a snake slithering away, its venom already coursing through her veins. She fell, her body lifeless, her spirit fleeing before Orpheus could reach her.

‘No!’ Orpheus cried, his voice breaking like a wave upon the rocks. ‘We’ve only just been married, and now she’s gone!’ Determined to reclaim his love, he vowed, ‘I will travel to the edge of the world! I will descend into the Underworld! I will face Hades himself and bring her back!’

Clutching his lyre, Orpheus set off on his epic journey over vast landscapes. Days turned into nights and nights into days until he finally reached the River Styx at the edge of the world. Its waters were smooth as glass, glowing with an eerie, dark luminescence. A boat emerged from the mists, guided by a figure cloaked in black. As Charon the Ferryman drew near, his hoodfell back, revealing a skeletal visage with hollow, staring eyes.

‘May I cross?’ Orpheus asked, his voice steady but his heart pounding.

The skull nodded, and Orpheus climbed aboard. They glided silently across the river, arriving at the gates of Tartarus
that were massive and foreboding. Orpheus stepped on to the shadowed shore, nodding his thanks to the ferryman. A menacing growl rumbled behind him. He turned to a colossal three-headed dog with the tail of a snake that hissed and writhed. Each head bared fangs like daggers, foam dripping from their snarling mouths.

‘Cerberus!’ Orpheus gasped. ‘Oh mighty guardian of the Underworld, who never sleeps but endures endless sentry of
Tartarus, I dedicate this song to you.’

With trembling hands, he began to strum his lyre, singing a lullaby so soothing it seemed to weave a spell. Cerberus’
eyelids drooped and soon the monstrous hound lay asleep.

The beast slept for the first time since its creation. Thousands of years of service were now lost in dream-filled bliss. Orpheus slipped past the hellhound, his song a soft whisper in the shadowed halls. The Underworld was a realm of mist and shadow, ghosts flitting like whispers through the gloom. Orpheus pressed on, his path lit only by the faint glow of the spirits. At last, he reached the heart of the Underworld, where Hades sat upona throne of bones, his eyes as cold and dark as the void.

‘What do you seek, living man?’ Hades demanded, his voice like the echo of death.

‘I’ve come for my wife, Eurydice,’ Orpheus pleaded. ‘We were only just married, and she was taken from me. Please,
let me bring her back.’

‘No,’ Hades replied, his tone final.

‘Please?’ Orpheus implored.

‘No.’

‘I beg you!’ Orpheus’ voice cracked with desperation as he fell to his knees.

‘No.’

Heartbroken but resolute, Orpheus began to sing, pouring all his love and sorrow into his music. His song was a haunting lament that resonated through the Underworld, drawing the spirits close. Even Hades, unmoved by centuries of suffering, felt a tear escape and fall to the ground.

‘I know the pain of separation,’ Hades said quietly. ‘My wife, Persephone, is with me for only three months of the year.’

He sighed deeply. ‘Alright, you may have her back.’

Orpheus leapt up as joy flooded his heart.

‘But,’ Hades warned, ‘you must not look at her until you have crossed the Styx back to the human world. If you do, she
will be lost to you forever.’

‘Thank you, I understand,’ Orpheus vowed.

Filled with hope, Orpheus began the journey back, his steps light with anticipation. He passed the sleeping Cerberus, who seemed to smile in his slumber. Orpheus then crossed the gates, but doubts gnawed at him. Was Eurydice truly following him? Had she even left the Underworld? The urge to look back was overwhelming, but he resisted, focusing on the path ahead.

As he neared the river, he could no longer bear the uncertainty. The ferryman awaited him, and Orpheus’ resolve
crumbled. He turned to see Eurydice, her ghostly form shimmering behind him. In that instant, she was pulled back into Tartarus, her spirit vanishing like mist in the dawn. Devastated, Orpheus crossed the river with Charon, then sat alone on the opposite shore with his lyre. He played the saddest song ever heard, his grief pouring out in every note.
He neither ate nor drank, singing of his lost love until he himself faded from the world. In death, Orpheus returned to the Underworld, reunited at last with Eurydice. Together, they embraced in the realm of shadows, their spirits intertwined for eternity. And so, in a bittersweet twist, they died happily ever after.

This tale follows a theme of eternal love that intertwines with desperation, highlighting both the beauty and risks of deep devotion. Orpheus’s journey to reclaim Eurydice shows the lengths love can inspire, but also the dangers of holding on too tightly. His inability to let go of her becomes a cautionary tale, suggesting that while love can be a source of strength, it can also threaten wellbeing when one cannot move forward. This story serves as a reflection on the balance between cherishing love and preserving one’s mental health.

Cerberus’s role in this story also reminds us of a valuable lesson. As he finally falls into slumber, we are reminded that sleep does not come easily for some of us. We do not have Orpheus to sing us lullabies, yet sleep is crucial for both mental and physical health. Sleep impacts the regulation of emotions, reducing the risk ofmood swings, irritability, and emotional instability, which perhaps explains Cerberus’ initial response to a visitor at the gate! Poor sleep is even linked to mental health disorders like depression and anxiety. Adequate sleep helps manage stress and emotional resilience.