THE FIGURE OF ORPHEUS {N ANTIGUITY AND THE MiDDLE AGES Thesis §ov flu Deg“. of pl). D MICHEGAN STATE UNIVERSITY John Block Friedman 1965 .‘_.o 'WWO' ‘»~.F-—Q-- a IvatLulb’dlL 0 face University J I This is to certify that the thesis entitled THE FIGURE OF ORPHEUS IN ANTIQUITY AND THE MIDDLE AGES presented by John Block Friedman has been accepted towards fulfillment of the requirements for Ph . D . English degree in .Lg—MV>(>» ”we...” Major professor Date 5’/?" GS, 0-169 4 V ‘__.‘..——. ABSTRACT THE FIGURE OF ORPHEUS IN ANTIQUITY AND THE MIDDLE AGES by John Block Friedman In this study I have tried to outline the ways in.which writers and artists—-from Hellenic antiquity through the high Middle Ages-~have regarded the legend of Orpheus and Eurydice and the ways in which they have modified this legend to express certain religious, phil- osophical and literary beliefs of their own times. The Introduction offers a "biography" of Orpheus assembled from representative classical authors. Chapter One deals with the way in which the Orpheus legend was used by Jewish and Christian apologetic writers. Chapter Two deals with the legend of Orpheus in Antique art, most particularly as a metaphor for the sours ascent to the heavens in funerary art and magical gems. Chapter Three deals with the legend as it was allegorically interpreted by commentators on Boethius, on Ovid, and on various John Block Friedman ancient authors known to the Middle Ages. In the work of the medieval commentators Orpheus emerges as a figure representing reason and eloquence and Eurydice as the carnal concupiscence of man's nature. Chapter Four treats Orpheus and Eurydice as romance hero and heroine in.medieval manuscript illustration and in Latin and English poetry, with special attention to the anonymous romance Sir Orfeo and to Rdbert Henryson's "Orpheus and Eurydice." Perhaps the most interesting finding of my study lies in the interrelatedness of art and literature during late antiquity and the Middle Ages. During the period with which I have been concerned, iconography served as a source for some of the most imaginative modifications of the Orpheus legend, as for example, the identification of Orpheus with Christ. In the transmission of the Or— pheus legend the picture was not only more memorable than the written word, it also had, upon occasion, the Power to change the word to conform to a visual motif. THE FIGURE OF ORPHEUS IN ANTIQUITY AND THE MIDDLE AGES BY John Block Friedman A THESIS Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY Department of English 1965 PREFACE One day while locking through a moralized Ovid in order to find out what a 14th-century writer thought about the Golden Apples of the HesPerides, I saw the word pgmgm_and stopped to read the context. I learned that Eurydice had been tempted by a forbidden fruit while gathering flowers, had been bitten by the devil in the form of a serpent and had been taken to the underworld. Reading on, I learned that someone called Orpheus-Christus went down to the lower world and took back his wife, that is, human nature, from the ruler of hell, greeting Eurydice with these words from the Canticles: "Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away." Not long after this I had occasion to lodk at a picture bodk of late Antique art. On one page was a picture of a Roman mosaic of Orpheus. He was perched on a rock, his tiny legs dangling; his eyes were large and compelling; his hand was raised as though to bless his lyre. The whole composition was studiedly two- ii dimensional and frontal. This page slipped past and I was looking at a manuscript illustration of Christ seated on a throne, his tiny legs dangling, his eyes lentile, his right hand raised as though to bless a bodk tucked up under his left arm. Christ, too, was flat, frontal and stylized. Were these works of art related to the story of Orpheus-Christus which I had read in Bersuire's moralized Ovid? I began the present study in an attempt to answer this question. The friends of a man who is writing a book on an exotic subject tend to hide, I think, when they see him coming with a page in his hand. Like Casaubon, he thinks his work on fish-worship among the Urundi is the key to all mythologies—-or one of the four pillars upon whidh Western civilization rests. But the friends are usually wrong and the author right, or apparently right. For as he examines an image or a commonplace of a cul— ture he begins to see two things. First, he is amazed at the prevalence of the detail he is studying. He finds a fishdworShiper at every stream, who has been waiting patiently to be looked at for the last thousand years. Second, he sees that the Object of his study is iii like an iceberg or a weed; its great mass is submerged below the surface of history; past students have seen only the tip. .Moreover, like a weed, an object of scholarly study, though it may have an insignificant stalk, has many roots, all intertwined with those of other weeds, and even roses, nearby. In writing this study I was struck by the number of places in which Orpheus was to be found and by the variety of other ideas with which his legend was intertwined. To trace the growth of his legend it was necessary to learn something about art history, archeology, Greek magic, Roman burial customs, Jewish and Christian apologists, Boethius and his commentators, musical cosmology, myth- ography, the medieval romance and Celtic legend. The study of Orpheus, therefore, has shown me much about antiquity.and the Middle Ages as well. I should like to express my appreciation to a number of peOple who have helped me in this study. Lawrence Ross of Washington University first taught me that poets looked at pictures. The late Adolph Katzenellenbogen of The Johns H0pkins University helped my understanding of medieval art. A grant from the iv College of Arts and Letters of Michigan State University enabled me to go to the Warburg Institute for a summer of research. The staff of that institute were all help- ful, most particularly A. A. Barb. The staff of the BritiSh Museum allowed me to take valuable photographs, and the librarians of the University of Michigan and Michigan State University aided me in getting the books I needed. The Director of this study, Arnold Williams, as a.man and as a scholar, will always be for me a person to emulate. Any stylistic grace this work may have was provided by my wife. PREFACE . . . LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS . . . . . . . . INTRODUCTION. Chapter I. II. III. ORPHEUS ORPHEUS ORPHEUS TORS IV. ORPHEUS ABBREVIATIONS SOURCES . . . STUDIES . . . TABLE OF CONTENTS IN CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITY. IN ANTIQUE ART. . . . . EXPOUNDED: MEDIEVAL COMMENTA- ON THE LEGEND . . . . . IN MEDIEVAL LITERATURE. vi Page ii vii 60 115 213 313 396 398 415 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Introduction Metope from Delphi, 5th century B.C. . . Roman c0py of an Hellenistic relief, Naples Museum, 5th century B.C. . . . Chapter Two Orpheus Mosaic. Blanzy—Les-Fimes. 3rd— 4th century A.D. . . . . . . . . . . Orpheus Mosaic. Perugia. 2d century A.D. Orpheus Mosaic. Piazza Amerina, Sicily. 3rd century A.D. O O O O I O O O O O O Orpheus Mosaic. Ptolemais. 4th century A.D.. O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O Orpheus Mosaic. Edessa, Syria. 3rd-4th century A.D. O O O O O O O O O O O I 0 Orpheus Mosaic. Jerusalem. 6th century A.D.. O O O O O O O O O C O O O O O O Fresco. House of Orpheus. Pompei. lst century B.C.. . . . . . . . . . . . . Orpheus Mosaic. Woodchester Villa, Eng— land. 4th century A.D. . . . . . . . vii Plate II II II III III List of Illustrations - continued. Figure 9. 10. 11. 12. l3. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. Orpheus Mosaic. Barton Farm Villa, Cir- encester, England. 4th century A.D. Orpheus Mosaic. Casa Consula, Salona. 3rd-4th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . . Orpheus Mosaic. F8ret de Brotonne. Rouen Museum. 3rd century A.D. . . . . . . . Orpheus Mosaic. St. Romain-en-Galle. Lyon Museum. 3rd-4th century A.D.. . . Orpheus Mosaic. House of the Laberii. Oudna, North Africa. 3rd century A.D.. Orpheus Mosaic. Newton-St.-Loe. Bristol Museum. 4th century A.D. . . . . . . . Orpheus Mosaic. Rottweil. 3rd century A.D. Orpheus Mosaic. Isle of Wight. 4th cen- tury A.D. O . . . . . . . O . . . . O . Consular Diptych of Anastasius. 6th cen- tury. Paris. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Christ Pantdkrator. Vat. Gr. 699, 89r. 9th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . . . . Orpheus Mosaic. Saragossa. 4th century A.D.. O o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o Orpheus Mosaic. Cherchell, North Africa. 3rd century A.D.. . . . . . . . . . . . Orpheus Mosaic. Cos, Greece, Roman period Orpheus Mosaic. Leptis Magnis, North Africa. 3rd-4th century A.D. . . . . . viii Plate III III III IV IV IV IV VI VI VI List of Illustrations - continued. Figure Plate 23. Synagogue Fresco. Dura-EurOpos. 3rd century A.D.. . . . . . . . . . . . . VI 24. Solomon Enthroned. Magic Amulet. Early Byzantine Period. . . . . . . . . . . VI 25. King David. B.M. MS Cott. Tib. CVI, 30. 11th century. . . . . . . . . . . . . VI 26. Arch of Titus. Rome. lst century A.D.. VII 27. Mmmmy Portrait. British Museum, Roman Egypt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VII 28. Sarc0phagus. Sidon. Roman period . . . VII 29. Coptic Tomb. El-BagawSt, Egypt. 7th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . . . . . VII 30. Dome Fresco. Church of the Redeemer. Athens . . . . . . . O . . . . . . . . VII 31. C0ptic Tombstone. Mainz Central Museum. 7th century A.D. . . . . . . . . . . 0 VIII 32. C0ptic Stele. British Museum. 7th century..0.r.-.o°o. . O . . . . . . 0 VIII 33. C0ptic Textile. Louvre. 5th century A.D. . . O O O O . . . . . . . . . . . VIII 34- Fresco. Monastery of St. Apollo. Bawft, Egypt. O 0 0 o o o o o o o o o o o o 0 VIII 35. Ivory Pyx. Bobbio. 5th-6th century A.D. IX 36. Ivory Pyx. Bargello.Museum, Florence. 5th-6th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . IX 37. Coptic Textile. Coll. R. Tyler. 6th century A.D . O . O O . . O . . . . . . IX ix List of Illustrations - continued. Figure 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. Adam and the Animals. Ivory Diptych. Bargello Museum, Florence. Empire. . Marble Relief of Drpheus. Knole Castle, England. Empire. . . . . . . . . . . Good Shepherd in an Animal Paradise. Coptic Textile. Boston Museum of Fine Arts. 5th century A.D. . . . . . . . Plato Playing to the Animals. MS of Niz- anii. Photo Coll. Warburg Institute. Magic Amulet. Berlin Museum. 3rd cen- tury A.D. O O O O O O O O I O O C O 0 Magic Amulet. British Museum. Empire . Obverse . O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 0 Magic Amulet. University College, London. 3rd-4th Century A.D.. o o o o o o o o Ampulla. Syria. 6th century A.D. . . . Gem. Gaza, Syria. British Museum. 3rd- 4th Century A.D. O O O O O O O O O O 0 Gem. Constanza, Rumania. British Museum. 3rd-4th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . Gem. Rome. 3rd—4th century A.D. . . . . Graffito. Palace of the Caesars. Kircher Museum. Rome. 2d-3rd century A.D. . Seth. Magic Papyrus 2391. Louvre. Em— pire. 0 0 o o o o o o o o o o o o o 0 Seth. Magic Gem. University College, London. 3rd-4th century A.D. . . . . Plate XI XI XI XI XI XI XI XI XII XII XII List of Illustrations - continued. Figure Plate 53. Satirical Gem. Empire. . . . . . . . . . XII 54. COin. mpire . O O O O O O O O O O O O O O XII 55. Magic Amulet. Montagnana, Italy. Em- Pire. O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O XII 56. Crucifixion. St. sabina Gate. Rome. 5th century ADD. 0 O O O O O O O C O O XII 57. Crucifixion. Ivory Carving. British Museum. 5th-6th century A.D. . . . . XII 58. Crucifixion. Fresco. Church of St. Maria Antigua. Rome. 8th century A.D.. O O O O O O C O O O O O O O O . XIII 59. Crucifixion. Utrecht University Library MS 484, 70r. 6th century A.D. . . . . XIII 60. Crucifixion. Reliquary. Palestine. Lateran Treasure. 6th century. . . . XIII 61. Crucifixion. Amulet. 6th century A.D.. XIII 62. Tomb Stelae. Gallo-Roman Period.. . . . XIII 63. Stele. Dura-Europos. Roman Period. . . XIV 64. Funerary Relief. Albano. National Mu- seum. Copenhagen. 2d century A.D.. . XIV 65. Miniature from Medical Manuscript. By- zantine Peri-0d. O O O O O O O O O O O XIV 66. Magic Gem. Cabinet of Florence. Empire. XIV 67. Votive Relief of Selene. British Museum. mpire. O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O XIV 68- Lamp. Berlin Museum. 3rd-4th century A.D.. . O . O C O O . . . C . . O . . XIV xi List of Illustrations — continued. Figure Plate 69. Orpheus as a Good Shepherd. Fragment of a Sarc0phagus. Cacarens. Gallo- Romarl PeriOdo O O I O O O O O O O O O XV 70. Orpheus. Sarc0phagus Cover. Lauriacum. 4th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . . . XV 71. Orpheus and Eurydice. Tomb Relief. In- tercissa. 3rd-4th century A.D. . . . XV 72. Orpheus. Stele. Pettau, Yugoslavia. 3rd-4th Century A.D. o o o o o o o o o XV 73. Apollo-Nebo. Clay Tessera. Palmyra. Rattan PeriOd. O O O O O O O O O O O O XV 74. Orpheus. Tibicini Monument. Museo Com- munale. Rome. Empire. . . . . . . . XVI 75. Orpheus. Ottoman Museum. Istanbul. 4th-5th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . XVI 76. Orpheus. Archeological Museum, Athens. 4th-5th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . XVI 77. Orpheus. Sabratha, Tripoli. 4th-5th century A.D. O O O O I O O O O O O O O XVI 78. Orpheus. BYblos. 4th-5th century A.D.. XVI 79. Orpheus Mosaic. Volubilis, North Africa. 4th century A.D. O O O O O O O O O O O XVI 80. Orpheus Tauroctonos. Sarc0phagus. Baths of Titus and Trajan. Rome. 4th-5th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . . . . . XVII 81. Orpheus Tauroctonos. Sarc0phagus. Porto Torres, Sardinia. 4th-5th century A.D.. o o o o o o o o o O O o O O O O XVII xii List of Illustrations - continued. Figure Plate 82. Orpheus Tauroctonos. Sarcophagus. Os- tia. Lateran Museum, Rome. 4th-5th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . . . . . XVII 83. Orpheus. Sarcophagus Fragment. Cemetery ' of Praetextatus, Rome. 4th-5th cen- tury A.D. O O O O O O O O O O O O O O XVII 84. Orpheus. Sarcophagus Fragment. Museum of Callixtus. Rome. 4th-5th century A.D. O O O O O O I O I O O O O O O O O XVII 85. Mithras Tauroctonos. Vatican Museum. 4th century A.D.. . . . . . . . . . . XVIII 86. Mithras Tauroctonos. Archeological Mu- seum, Florence. 4th century A.D. . . XVIII 87. Orpheus-Apollo. Stele. Carthage. Brit- ish Museum. 4th century. . . . . . . XVIII 88. Orpheus Fresco. Cemetery of Domitilla, Romeo 150-250 A.D.?o o o o o o o o o XIX 89. Orpheus Fresco. Cemetery of Domitilla, Rome. 4th century A.D. . . . . . . . XIX 90. Orpheus Fresco. Cemetery of Peter and Marcellinus. Rome. 250 A.D.?. . . . XIX 91. Orpheus Fresco. Cemetery of Callixtus. Rome. 2d century A.D.. . . . . . . . XIX 92. Good Shepherd Fresco. Cemetery of Peter and Marcellinus. Rome. 3rd century A.D.. O Q 0 O O O O C O C O O O O O O m 93. Good Shepherd Fresco. Cemetery of Cal- lixtus. Rome. 2d-3rd century A.D. . XX xiii List of Illustrations - continued. Figure ' Plate 94. Good Shepherd Fresco. Christian Church. Dura_EurOPOSo 230 A.D. o o o o o o o m 95. GOod Shepherd Fresco. Cemetery of Domi- tilla. Rome. 4th century A.D. . . . XX 96. Good Shepherd Fresco. Cemetery of Aur- elius. Rome. 3rd-4th century A.D. . XX 97. Kriophoros. Crete. Berlin Museum. 6th century BOD. O O O O O O O O C O O O 0 MI 98. Moscophoros. Athens, Acr0polis. 6th century B0: 0 O I O O O O O O O O O O 0 MI 99. Kri0phoros. Wilton House, England. Hel- lenistic period.. . . . . . . . . . . XXI 100. Good Shepherd. Lateran Museum, Rome. 3rd-4th Century A.D.. o o o o o o a 0 MI 101. Good Shepherd Mosaic. Thysdrus. Bardo Museum, Tunisia. 4th century A.D.. . XXII 102. Good Shepherd Mosaic. Villa of Jenah, Beirut. 475-500 A.D. . . . . . . . . XXII Chapter Four 1. King David. Ambrosiana B. 32, 3r. 13th century. 0 O O O O C O O O O O O O O O I 2. David as a Shepherd. Mount Athos Vato- pedi 761. 11th century.. . . . . . . I 3. David as a Shepherd. Ambrosiana M. 54 Supp. cIIIr. 11th century. . . . . . I Xiv List of Illustrations - continued. Figure 4. David and Melodia. B.N. Gr. Coislin 139. 11th century. . . . . . . . . . . . . 5. David and Melodia. Vat. Cod. Barb. Gr. 320, 2r. 11th century.. . . . . . . . 6. Sibyl, Aeneas and Orpheus in the Under- world. Vat. Lat. 3225. 5th century. 7. The Nile God. Vatican Museum. . . . . . 8. Orpheus as a Sleeping River God. Reims Mun. Bib. 672. 13th century. . . . . 9. Orpheus. Mount Athos Panteleimon 6, 165r. 11th century. . . . . . . . . . . . . 10. Orpheus. B.N. Gr. Coislin 239, 122v. 11th century. . . . . . . . . . . . . ll. Orpheus and Eurydice. B.M. Harley 1776, 76V. 0 O O O O O O O O O O O O O D O O 12. Orpheus and Eurydice. Erlangen Univ. Bib. 2361’ 88V. 0 o o o o o o c o o o 13. Orpheus and Eurydice. B.M. Harley 4431, 126V. 0 O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 14. Orpheus and Eurydice. Brussells Bib. Royale 9392, 73v. . . . . . . . . . . 15. Orpheus, Eurydice and the Animals. Reg. Lat. 1290' 5r. 0 O O O O O O O O O O 0 l6. Orpheus and Eurydice. B.N. Fr. 1493, 1311.. O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 17. Eurydice. B.N. Fr. 871, l96r. . . . . . XV Plate II II II II II II III III III III III III IV List of Illustrations - continued. Figure Plate 18. Eurydice. Lyon 742, l66r. . . . . . . . IV 19. The Marriage of Orpheus and Eurydice. Lyon 742, 165v. . . . . . . . . . . . IV 20. The Marriage of Orpheus and Eurydice. B.N. Fr. 8711 1961'. o o o o o o o o 0 IV xvi INTRODUCTION Of all the heroes of Greek legend perhaps only Heracles is a mone familiar figure to us than is Orpheus. Heracles, a man of action, became enraged by his slow progress in the study of music, struck his teacher, Linus, with a lyre and killed him (Apollod._Bibl,, II, iv, 9). We remember Orpheus, on the other hand, for his musical skill and for the beauty of his voice; his song could make the lion lie down with the lamb and draw ”Iron tears down Pluto's cheek." The story of Orpheus' descent to the underworld in search of Eurydice and of his unsuccessful attempt to bring her back to the world of the living has engaged as many modern minds as it has ancient. But the signif- icance of this story--indeed the course of the narrative itself--has varied from age to age and from audience to audience. To those interested in the history of ideas a study of the Orpheus legend will reveal much about the evolution of Western literature and art. Beginning its long course in ancient Greece, the story of Orpheus presents him successively as: the bearer of civiliz- ing arts to mankind, a relgious philosopher, an enemy of newly emerging Christianity, a figure for David and for Christ, a figure for the human soul in its search for perfection, a chivalric hero of Romance, a maker of concord among the four warring elements and, most recently, a faithful lover who believes that "love is as strong as death." In this study I have tried to trace the devel- opment of the legend from its origins in pre-classical Greece to its flowering in England and Scotland during the high Middle Ages. Although at the time of the high Middle Ages in England the Renaissance on the continent had already begun, and there too Orpheus enjoyed wide p0pularity, this study must exclude hu- manistic treatment of his legend as belonging to a new and different chapter in the history of ideas. Since this study ends with the Opening of the Renais- sance, it must also omit consideration of the Greek mystery religions associated with Orpheus' name. These rites were unfamiliar to the Latin Middle Ages and became of historical and then of philosophical in- terest only with the revival of Greek learning. Every student of Orpheus in classical antiquity will be indebted to the articles on him by K. Ziegler in PaulyAWissowa, Real-Encyclopadie, and those in Ros- cher's Lexicon. In these two works almost every refer- ence to Orpheus in classical literature is assembled. CIassical, Antique, Byzantine and a few medieval texts concerning the life, deeds and writings of Orpheus are .gathered conveniently for the interested reader in Otto Kern's Orphicorum Fraqmenta (1922). A great deal of Kern's material and much of that in Pauly—Wissowa and RQSCher deals with the Orphic rites. Since this study is concerned mainly with the transmission of the legend I have limited my discussion Of the antique writers who cite Orpheus to those who give reasonably representative accounts of him, to those who may have contributed details lSee D. P. Walker, "Orpheus the Theologian and Renaissance Platonists," gpprnal of the Warbprgiand Cour— tauld Inspitutes, XVI (1953) and Edgar Wind, Paqan Mys- teries in the Renaissance (London, 1958), Ch. IV. Other writers Who have dealt with Orpheus in connection with the Greek Mysteries are: E. Maas, Orpheus (Munich, 1895); J. Harrison, Proleqomena to the Study of Greek Religion (Cambridge, 1922); E. E. Rohde, Psyche, Eng. ed. (London, 1925), and, most recently, I. M. Linforth, The Arts of Orpheus (Berkeley, 1941) and W. K. C. Guthrie, Orpheus and Greek Reliqipp_(London, 1952). to the story in Ovid and Virgil, and to those who may have been known in one form or another to the writers and artists of the Middle Ages. The chronological limits of this Introduction are set by the earliest literary reference to Orpheus of which I am aware, that of Alcaeus in the early years of the 7th century B.C., and by the latest writer who can rightfully be called classical, Sidonius Apollin- aris, BishOp of Auvergne, who died three years after the sack of Rome in 476 A.D. Perhaps the simplest method of reviewing what the writers of antiquity knew or thought about Orpheus is to examine what they said about certain particulars of his life. In this Intro- duction, therefore, I have somewhat arbitrarily arranged these particulars in the following order: 1) when Or- pheus lived, 2) his parents, 3) his place of birth, 4) his education, 5)his deeds and adventures, 6) his wife, 7) his death and translation to the stars. Some of these particulars are familiar to us from the accounts of Orpheus given by Ovid and Virgil. Perhaps it would be useful, before proceeding into a discussion of the more diverse particulars of Orpheus' life to be found in.the ancient world, to review an eclectic but representative account, and no better offers itself than that of Ovid's Metamorphoses supplemented by a few impor- tant variations from Virgil's poetry. This briefly is the story as it appears in Ovid: When Orpheus married Eurydice in Thrace it was a time of great celebration, and Hymen himself presided over the wedding. After the ceremony Eurydice was walk- ing with a company of naiads in a meadow when she was bitten by a snake and immediately died. Orpheus mourned her on earth for a time, then descended to Hades in search of her. Coming before Persephone, he at once acknowledged her power, made clear his peaceful intentions and peti— tioned her in song that the power of love be recognized as stronger than death, and that Eurydice be returned to him to finish her allotted time on earth. He sang his plea so beautifully that the torments of Tantalus, Ixion, Sisyphus and others of the dead momentarily ceased and the hearts of the Eumenides, Pluto and Persephone were won over. Eurydice came forward from among the other spirits and was united with Orpheus on the condition that he should not look back at her as he led her out of Hades. But, worrying lest she not be following, he did look back, and with a sad goodbye Eurydice vanished. At this Orpheus tried to reenter Hades but was refused admission. After a week of mourning he returned to his home on Rhodope in Thrace. Three years passed and still he avoided women, either because of his loss or else because of his marriage vows. The Thracian women, many of whom loved him, were angered by this. Also, it is said that he was the first of the Thracians to love young boys (X, 1—85). One day when Orpheus was playing his lyre on a.hi11t0p many plants, trees and animals gathered around him, attracted by his song. He sang first of the wars of the Giants with Zeus, then of the love of the gods for boys and of the unusual lusts of women (X, 86-105, 143-154). And as he sang a band of Maenads came upon him. They thrust their spears at him but the leafy spear shafts were sympathetic and turned harmlessly aside. One Maenad threw a stone but it was charmed by his song and did him no harm. Eventually, however, the noise of the women's flutes, drums and howing overcame his music and the women at last killed him and drove off his audience. They threw stones, branches and their wands at the body and then, seizing the hoes and mattocks left by some neighboring workmen, cut the body of Orpheus to bits; his head and lyre were thrown into the Hebrus and still made music as they floated towards Lesbos. All nature mourned for Orpheus. As his head reached the shore of Lesbos a snake seized it, but was turned to stone by Apollo. Orpheus' soul united itself with that of Euryd- ice and now they walk through Hades, sometimes he, some- times she in front. Bacchus punished the Maenads for having killed his priest by turning them into trees (XI, 1-66). There are a number of briefer references to Orpheus in the works of Virgil,2 with detailed accounts given in the fourth Georgic and in the Qplpx, The fourth Georgic may have served Ovid as a partial source, since he knew Virgil, and the Georgics (36-29 B.C.) were com- pleted before the Metamorphoses (c. 10 A.D.). Virgil's account (9, IV, 453-558) begins as a castigation of Aristeus, a pastoral demi—god usually associated with Eurydice in medieval versions of the tale but not men- tioned by Ovid. In this version the marriage is not described, but Eurydice is bitten by a snake as she 2Aen. VI, 120; Ecl. III, 46, IV, 55, 57, VI, 30, VIII, 55. flees Aristeus. After her death Orpheus mourns her for a time on earth and then descends to the underworld where, like Odysseus (pg. XI), he is greeted by the spirits of the dead. Virgil speaks of how the Eumenides and Cer— berus were charmed by Orpheus' song, but he does not deal with the cessation of the torments of Hell. After his failure to return with Eurydice he mourns for seven months, not three years, by the river Strymon. Moreover, the story of his death at the hands of the Maenads is not so fully developed as it is in Ovid. The tale ends with his head floating down the waters of the Hebrus, still calling his wife's name. Finally, there is no sugges- tion in this story that Orpheus was homosexual. Virgil's Qplpg (1.267 ff.) tells somewhat the same story. Here, however, in addition to the animals, the moon is so entranced by Orpheus' song that she fails to appear at night. The gplp§_emphasizes the boldness of Orpheus in thinking that he could pr0pitiate the gods of Hades by his music, and his boldness in part arises from the fact that he charms the animals and trees be— fore'he goes to Hades to win back Eurydice. Classical and Antique art, were equally impor~ tant in the transmission of the story of Orpheus from one generation and place to another. Pausanias mentions statues and wall paintings of Orpheus (III, xx, 5; IX, xxx, 4-12), as does Philostratus, who develOped the lit- erary genre of the ekphrasis or rhetorical descriptions of works of art (Impg. II, 15). A metOpe from Delphi which may have been carved as early as the 5th century B.C. shows him as an Argonaut (Fig. 1), while there are also amusing accounts of sweating statues of Orpheus in the Alexander legends of Arrian (Appp, I, II) and in the Pseudo-Callisthenes (I, 42). There are extant a number of black and red figured vase paintings of the classical period showing Orpheus legends, as well as representations on seals, coins, and mirrors. For many writers in antiquity, the story of Or- pheus' descent and his charming of the animals was of less importance than other abilities he was thought to have had. It is this less familiar side of Orpheus which I should like now to present briefly, both in order to give the readers some idea of the associations the legend had for antiquity and as an introduction to the details of his biography. 3See the illustrations passim in Guthrie and par— ticularly pp. 64-5 for a hand-list of Greek vases, their bibliography and descriptions. 10 Orpheus was thought to be an authority on the origins of things and a religious philosopher who wrote poems of cosmological and eschatological import, called collectively the Orphica (ed. E. Abel, 1885). W. K. C. Guthrie, in his excellent book, Qpphepgpand Greek Relir gipp, has dealt extensively with the body of religious writing attributed to Orpheus. He points out that though "Orpheus was probably never, certainly scarcely ever wor— shipped as a god . . . he was a prOphet and high priest of religion" (p. 41). Actually, the authenticity of the cosmogonic writings of Orpheus is a matter of some con- jecture; it was quite common for neo-Platonic writers such as Porphyry to quote from poems purportedly by Or- pheus in order to give antiquity to their own doctrines. Also, the neo-Platonists and other writers on the Greek mystery religions make reference to a Rhap§odi9_Theoqony attributed to Orpheus but very likely of a date in the 2nd or 3rd century A.D. Whether one assumes, as Guthrie does (Ch. I passim), that Orpheus was a real person and something of a reformer and proto-Christ in matters of the mysteries, or holds With R. S. Conway that "the name 'Orpheus' seems to have been a kind of professional epithet like 'Doctor' or ll 'Reverend,‘ applied to persons who wrote poems on Orphic subjects, which were always of a religious character" (Bulletin of the JOhn RylanggpLibrary, XVII, 1933, p. 68), the fact remains that there was a consistent body of cosmogonical speculation associated with the name Orpheus known to the ancient world. Orphic theories on the creation of the world and of man seem to derive from Hesiod's Theoqony, dated by some critics (992) as early as the 8th century. Orphic doctrines are mentioned by the dramatists, Plato, Aristotle, Alexandrian and late Antique writers, and indeed are used in refutation of paganism by the early Christian apologists. With the establishment of Christianity in the West, however, the mystery religions are supplanted, and the figure of Or- pheus becomes important for other reasons. Roles more practical than those of philosopher and cosmogonist were also ascribed to Orpheus by the ancients. He was thought to have written a work on stones, the Lithica and censorinns, a late Roman gram- marian, speaks of him as an astrologer knowledgeable cnlthe subject of the Great Year (Qp§., 18, ll). Lucian says that he taught the Greeks astrology (De Astrol. 10). As a botanist Orpheus was highly regarded by Pliny. 12 Orpheus knew that there were aphrodisiac powers in the staphylinus and he was the first man to write on the subject of botany (ngll, 32; XXV, 12). A number of writers associated Orpheus with Pythagoras because both men, for rather different reasons, were Opposed to the eating of flesh.4 From his association with Pythagoras -Orpheus became something of a mathematician. Iamblichus the neo-Platonist, in his Life oprythaqoras, observes that: Orpheu§;the son of CalliOpe, having learned wisdom from his mother in the mountain Pant gaeus, said that the eternal essence of num- ber is the most providential principle of the pniverse . . . . It is the root of the per- manencyrof_divine natures. [Tr. Thomas Tay— lor, p. 78] Perhaps the most important of all these talents are those which associate Orpheus with the Ars Scribendi. In his 4Herodotus, II, 81, Speaks of the Orphic practice of not bringing wool into temples, he says this is really a Pythagorean idea. In the Hippolytus of Euripides, The- seus says to his son, "Set out thy paltry wares/ Of life- less food: take Orpheus for thy king" (1.952). Apuleius, Apol. in Works n.t. (London, 1886) said, ”For wool . . . has ever been held to be an impure covering in conformity with the dicta of Orpheus and Pythagoras” (p. 304), as did Plutarch, Conv. Sept. Sap. 10, ”But to refrain entirely from eating meat, as they record of Orpheus of old . . ." and Plato, Egg, VI, 782, "For in those days men are said to'have lived a sort of Orphic life, having the use of all lifeless things, but abstaining from all living things." l3 guises of poet, musician, and rhetorician Orpheus later i was to become important to the student of medieval lit- erature. An epitaph by Damagetus mentions Orpheus as having invented "the yoked hexameter" (Anth. Pal. VII, 9). Diodorus of Sicily recounts a legend in which Apollo destroys the lyre after the flaying of Marsyas, remarking that Linus, Orpheus, and Thamyras rediscovered the strings and harmony of the lyre (III, 59). Alcidamas says that Orpheus invented the alphabet (Antiphog, ed. Blass, 24, p. 190). In presenting this sampling of legends connected with Orpheus I have attempted to show the reader who is familiar with only the Ovidian and Virgilian accounts a few of the associations Orpheus had for the men of anti- quity. ‘With such information in mind we may now consider in closer detail the biography of Orpheus. Conjectures of Antiqpity as to When Orpheu§_Lived The most ancient allusions to Orpheus which I am aware of are those of Alcaeus and Sappho, from the 7th century B.C. Both references exist in very conjec— tural emendations of papyri. In an emendation by Diehl. 14 about which he later eXpressed doubt, Alcaeus speaks of how "Orpheus overcame allotted death by his speech, showing an escape to men who came after."5 Sappho says: [Death tracketh everything living and] catch- eth it in the end, [and even as he would not give his] beloved wife [to Orpheus, so he ever] thinks to [keep prisoner every] woman that dies, . . ." (118A). If these emendations are correct, the story of Orpheus' descent and dealings with Pluto and Persephone must have been well enough known to be used as literary allusions by 650 B.C. Of later date and better authority are the allusions to Orpheus in the poems of Simonides and Iby- cus. Simonides seems to refer to Orpheus in some con- nection with the voyage of the Argonauts when he says that "Fishes leapt clean from the blue water because of his sweet music" (51). And Ibycus refers to the evident popularity of Orpheus by speaking of "Orphes of famous name" (10). Finally, Pindar calls him "that minstrel of the lyre, that father of songs" (gypp, IV, 179—80). It can be concluded. I think, from these ci- tations, that the story of Orpheus, particularly with 5For the text of this fragment, see E. Diehl, Anth. Lyr. Graec. I, 80, p. 129. For Diehl's retrac- tion see K. Freeman, Companion to the Pre-Socratic Philosophers (Oxford, 1953). Po 1. 15 reference to his descent to the underworld, was fairly well known in Greece before the 5th century. Opinion in antiquity as to when Orpheus lived is divided. Aristotle felt that he never lived at all, though he is a dissenting voice.6 Plato would put Or- pheus "a thousand or two thousand years" before his own times (ppg, III, 677). Diodorus felt that "Orpheus was contemporary with Heracles, both of them living one hun- dred years before the period of the Trojan War“ (VII, 1). This statement would place Orpheus on the low side of Plato‘s estimate since the fall of Troy was considered by Eratosthenes to have occurred in 1183 B.C. In keep- ing with certain accounts in which Orpheus is supposed to have taught men to eschew cannibalism7 is that Of Horace, who says that Orpheus lived “while men still roamed the woods" (Ars P. I, 392), in other words, be- fore men lived in cities and had the advantages of civ- ilization. The age when Homer lived was uncertain to 6This Opinion supposedly comes from the lost De Philosophia, and it is alluded to by Cicero, Nat. D. 1. xxxviii, "Aristotle tells us that the poet Orpheus never existed . . ." 7Arist0phanes, Ran. 1032, "First, Orpheus taught your religious rites,/ and from bloody murder to stay your hands . . ." So also Sextus, Math. I, 15. 16 the writers of antiquity, but most of those interested in chronologies and genealogies concur that Orpheus was a very distant ancestor of Homer. Proclus, for instance, in his pi§e_o§_Homer claims that Homer and Hesiod de— scended some eight generations from Orpheus (ed. Allen, p. 99), while Charax of Pergamum would argue for ten generations (Egg III, 649, 20). The SuidagpLexigon says that Orpheus was born eleven generations before the Tro— jan war and that he was between nine and eleven hundred years old at his death, which would put him somewhat within the estimate given by Diodorus. There are other attempts to date the age of Orpheus, such as that of Plutarch, who said that everyone imitated Orpheus but that he imitated no one since he was first (De Mus. 5), and Maximus of Tyre, who placed together in remote an- tiquity Homer, Hesiod, and Orpheus,8 but essentially the main classical views as to his age have been given above. Post-classical and early Christian writers some- times attempt to date Orpheus in relation to various personages from the Old Testament. It had long been 8The Dissertations of Maximus Tyrius, tr. Thomas Taylor (London, 1804), I, p. 76. V-I 17 a device of Alexandrian Jews, taken over from them by the early Christian apologists, to claim that the Greeks had got their learning from Moses and from the Old Tes- tament. An example of this point of view may be found in Eupolemius (c. 150 B.C.): Moses was the first sage and the first to teach the Jews the alphabet, which the Phoe- nicians took from the Jews, and the Greeks from the Phoenicians . . . Another example may be found in Artapanus (c. 50 B.C.) who retells the story of Abraham as the first astrologer and of Moses, "called by the Greeks Musaeus," as the teacher of Orpheus (Eus., PraepppEvang., IX, xxvi, xxvii, pg 21, 431-2). Firmicus Maternus, the 4th cen- tury writer of a treatise on and defense of astrology before his conversion to Christianity, offers an example of this kind of historiography when he says that "omnia enim [matters astrological] . . . Abram, Orfeus et Cri- todemus ediderunt . . ." (Mgpp. IV, Proem.). Clement of Alexandria, in a chronology of the pagans, would put Ckpheus in the age of Acrisius, when "the exPloits of Perseus and Dionysus took place, and Orpheus and Musaeus lived" (Strom. I, xxi, ANF, p- 423). While Tatian ex- plains to the pagans that Moses is older than Homer and 18 the writers before him, older indeed than "linus . . . Amphion, Musaeus, Orpheus . . .“ (Ad_§p. 41,.AEE, p. 81), Orpheus, he says, following Diodorus, lived about the same time as Heracles. Theodoretus, while not attempt- ing here to show his relation to Moses, does say that Orpheus is the first of the poets and that he lived a generation before the Trojan war (Gr. Cur Aff. II, 49). The Byzantine historian Georgius Cedrenus, in his Hig- toriarum Compendium, gives several accounts of the time in which Orpheus lived. In one, Orpheus lived a little while after the famine which caused Abraham to travel into Egypt in his eighty-fifth year. Inanother, "Thra- cian Orpheus, the wisest and most renowned poet of Bac- chus, lived in the time of Gideon,” though somewhat later in his history Cedrenus places the rise of Orpheus among the Greeks in the time of Abdon, who was judge of Israel a little after the death of Gideon (_p_<_;_, 121, 79, 134, 179). The Parents of Orpheus The writers of antiquity were more unanimous about the parents of Orpheus. He was generally thought to be the son of the muse Calliope and of either Apollo :- ON. I. -“ 1‘: A w \-L 1 19 or Oeagrus. Pindar, our earliest source of information, said in an emended fragment (Frag. 139) that he was the son of Oeagrus, though in the fourth Pythian Ode he said he was the son of Apollo. The anonymous Conte§t of Hpmer and Hesiod, the substance of which has been dated as be- longing to the 5th century B.C. spoke of Orpheus as born of Oeagrus and CalliOpe (315), while Timotheus wrote in the Persae of how ”in the beginning did Orpheus the son of CalliOpe beget the motley-musicked shell on Mount Pieria" (II, 234—5). Plato remarked only that he was the son of Oeagrus (§ypp. 179). Asclepiades of Tragilus in his scholia on Pindar weighed the question of Orpheus' parents at some length. He is reported to have believed that Orpheus was “the son of Apollo, Orpheus whom both Pindar himself and others say to be the son of Oeagrus" (Egg III, 168—9, 6a). In the scholia on the Rhesus Of Euripides, Asclepiades added that ”CalliOpe and Apollo having come tOgether, they gave birth to Linus the old- est and three others beside him, Hymen, Ialemon and Or- pheus” (6b). Another account of Apollo as the possible father occurs in Apollodorus (I, 3), but the body of evidence argues for Oeagrus. Oeagrus still allows Or— pheus the standing of a demi-god since he himself was 20 a Thracian wine-god and son of Atlas, but it is really with the medieval commentators that Orpheus regains his true divinity as the most eloquent son of Apollo. Orpheus' Birthplace The eloquence of Orpheus, given his background, was viewed with some suspicion as early as the 5th cen- tury. Aelian quotes Androtion to the effect that "Per- haps Orpheus was not learned, being a Thracian, and that myth gives him a false reputation" (EH, VIII, 6). The Athenians considered the Thracians a northern, backward, and uncivilized people and their familiar contempt for the "barbarians" is manifest in Androtion's remark. Nonetheless most Greek and Roman writers considered Orpheus to be both a Thracian and, at the same time, a man of great learning, piety, and inventiveness. As a son of Calliope, Orpheus would naturally be associated with the home of the Muses on Mount Olym- pus at the border of Macedonia and Thessaly. So Damag- etus, in an epitaph for Orpheus (Anth. Pal. VII, 9), speaks of him as being "buried here by the jutting foot of Thracian Olympus.” Strabo says that "at the base of 11‘ 21 Olympus is a city Dium. And it has a village near by. Pimpleia. Here lived Orpheus, the Ciconian" (VII, 18). Pimpleia was the home of Oeagrus as well as of Orpheus, according to Nonnos (pipp, XIII, 428), and Hyginus also places Orpheus in this vicinity as a native of "the city which is on Mount Olympus near the river Enipeus."9 To place Orpheus on or near Olympus is to place him near the sources of art, learning, and eloquence. Such a neighborhood could, in part, eXplain the paradox of his role as both philosopher and Thracian. Diogenes Laertes, like Aelian disturbed by these two sides of Orpheus, ob- serves in the Proemium to his W- phers: And thus it was from the Greeks that Philos- ophy took its rise: its very name refuses to be translated into foreign speech. But those who attribute its invention to barbar- ians bring forward Orpheus the Thracian, calling him a philOSOpher of whose antiquity there can be no doubt (5). The question of Orpheus' nationality creates a problem .for the Greek vase painters as well. Remembering that most classical accounts of Orpheus show him as somehow 9The Mythgpof Hyginug, tr. Mary Grant (Lawrence, Kansas, 1960), XIV, p. 34. Quotations from Hyginus will be taken from this edition. 22 apart from the Thracians and a sojourner rather than a dweller in their land, we may understand why Greek vases often show Orpheus dressed in the clothes of a Hellene, sometimes singing to men who by their clothes are clearly Thracian.lo Though other writers locate him elsewhere in Thrace than Mount Olympus, they still portray Orpheus as the civilizer of a savage people. Conon tells us that he was the king of the Macedonians and the Odry- sians and that his musical abilities contributed to his success as a ruler (g§_lo3, 582-3). Quintillian says that Orpheus was descended from the gods and calmed the unlettered and violent men of his land by the power of his music (Ippp, I, 10.9), while the neo- Platonist Maximus of Tyre says that Orpheus was "born in Thrace, in the mountain Pangaeus, which is inhabited by those Thracians who are called Odrysi, a rustic race, given to plunder, and void of hospitality. The Odrysi, however, willingly followed Orpheus as their leader, being charmed by the beauty of his song. This, therefore, 0Guthrie, fig. 5, p. 34 and pl. 6. Pausanias in his discussion of the famous painting by Polygnotus said, ”The appearance of Orpheus is Greek, and neither his garb nor his head—gear is Thracian" (X, xxx, 6). II- J 23 is the meaning of the assertion, that he drew rocks and trees, assimilating the ignoble manners of those that were allured to inanimate bodies."ll Two geogra- phers, Solinus and Mela, do not make Orpheus a Thracian. Solinus makes him a Sythonian of the seacoast of Pontus, while Mela would have him a resident of Obele, where he "first gave [the Maenades] orders, and trained them to that Religion [of Bacchusl."12 Most of the references to Orpheus in classical and late Antique writing indi- cate only that he was a Thracian, though sometimes an Odrysian Thracian or a Ciconian. Often he is charac- terized by certain conventional poetic or metonymic epithets, such as RhodOpian, from the mountain of that name in Thrace, Strymonian, from the river of that name, or Bistonian, from the tribe of that name. Such epithets tell the reader that Orpheus is a Thracian but do not tell specifically where in Thrace he lived. Th£§x_or Threicius are often used as epithets for Orpheus, and continue to be so used in medieval writing even when l . . Dissertatlopg, II, p. 70. 12Collectanea Rerum Memorabilium, tr. A. Gold- ing (London, 1587), sig. K4; The Worke of Pomponius Mala . . . Concerning_the Situatipn 9f the Worlde tr. ibis} (London, 1585), II, sig. F4. 24 the geographical significance of the word is lost or not clearly understood, as in this gloss on Lucan's Pharsalia by the 12th century teacher Arnulphus of Or- leans: “TRACIUS a regione ubi violentior est."l3 The Education of Orpheus It is natural that someone whose mother was a Muse and who was born on or near Mount Olympus should be knowledgeable in the arts and sciences, all the more so if he were also a world traveller. Thus it is with Orpheus. What we know about the education of Orpheus .is this: that he learned about music and other matters from CalliOpe and Apollo and that he went to Egypt where he studied philOSOphy and, according to the Jewish con— troversialists and Christian apologists, learned of monotheism from Moses. Diodorus of Sicily, who is the main source for the Egyptian travels of Orpheus, gives two somewhat [contradictory accounts of his education. Egypt, he says, "was nevertheless eagerly visited by Orpheus and 3Arnulfi Aurelianensis Glosule Super Lpganum, ed. Berthe M. Marti, Papers and Monographs of the Amer- ican Academy in Rome, XVIII (Rome, 1958): P. 53. 1,... ‘ ‘ I 25 the poet Homer in the earliest times . . . . For they say that Orpheus, upon visiting Egypt and participating in the initiation and mysteries of Dionysus, adOpted them . . ." (I, 23). Diodorus concludes thus: Orpheus, for instance, brought from Egypt most of his mystic ceremonies, the orgias— tic rites that accompanied his wanderings, and his fabulous account of his experience in HadeS' (I, 96). . ' Orpheus, however, did not go to Egypt as a very young man. And after he had devoted his entire time to his education and had learned whatever the myths had to say about the gods, he journeyed to Egypt, where he further in— creased his knowledge and so became the greatest man among the Greeks . . . (IV, 25). Yet in another place Diodorus says that Orpheus learned the mysteries from his father Oeagrus (IV, 43). More— over, a third source of instruction for Orpheus, accord- ing to Diodorus, was his visit to the Idean Dactyls, those mysterious inventors of metal-working who were created from dust (V, 64)- That Egypt had a very ancient civilization was clearly recognized by Greek and Roman writers. Hecateaeus, in his Aegyptica, regarded Egypt as the civilization from which cosmologists and philOSOphers from Orpheus to Plato 26 had borrowed. "For the priests of the Egyptians relate from the writings in the sacred books that those nearest them in antiquity were Orpheus and Musaeus . . ." (FGH III, 264, 61-2). Lucian by implication rebuts the account of Dio- dorus when he says that: as for the Greeks, they learned not a whit of astrology either from the Aetheopians or from the Aegyptians. It was Orpheus, the son of Oeagrus and Calliope, that first declared these matters unto them" (De Astrol. 10). There are no other accounts of Orpheus' Egyptian education, that I know of, until the time of the Chris— tian apologists. Then Eusebius, perhaps following Dio— dorus, says of the Phoenicians and Egyptians that: they relate that it was Orpheus, the son of Oeagrus, who learned of the mysteries from the Egyptians and then taught them to the Greeks" (Praep. Evanq. I, vi, 50). Further on, Eusebius cites one Artapanus as saying that Moses was the teacher of Orpheus.' Perhaps Artapanus felt that Moses, leading his people out of Egypt to Sinai, found time before his departure to instruct Orpheus in the true theology. An anonymous Byzantine writer, fol- lowing Theodoretus (Gr. Cur Aff. II, 30). evidently felt so for he speaks of how “Odrysian Orpheus having learned 27 about the being of God in Egypt, in such a fashion un- derstood it and spoke it" (Anecd. Ox. IV, 251). The nature of Orpheus' Egyptian education seems to have differed according to the interests of the people discussing it, but those who said that Orpheus was in Egypt all appear to have agreed that his learning there was of a philosophical or theological cast. If we may trust the Orphic fragments collected by Kern and Guthrie, much of the learning of Orpheus had to do with the ori- gins of things. Orpheus' name was associated with a body of thought which, very briefly, held that origin— ally there were Night and Chaos, and that out of these came Phanes or Light, often thought of as Eros, who was a generative force. The similarity of such a view of creation to that of the book of Genesis which was attrib— uted to Moses is readily apparent. It should not be surprising, therefore, that Orpheus' name be linked with that of Moses on theological as well as historical grounds. Lactantius Placidius, for instance, speaks in the same sentence of "Orpheus and Moses, the priest of the high- est God, and Isaiah and others like them," who believed in a single God (Comm, ad Statii Theb., IV, 516). Guthrie, discussing the Orphic cosmogony, describes its similarity 28 to that in the book of Genesis as follows: At one time Phanes, at another Zeus contained the seeds of all being within his own body, and from this state of mixture in the One has emerged the whole of our manifold world, and all nature animate and inanimate. This cen- tral thought, that everything existed at first together in a confused mass, and that the pro- cess of creation was one of separation and division . . . has been repeated . . . in many religions . . . . The best known example is our own Bible. "The earth was without form . . . . and God divided the light from the Li..,.,. . darkness . . . . and God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament" ... . (p. 75). Besides the learning he gained from his trip to Egypt, Orpheus also received instruction in music from Apollo and CalliOpe. Horace speaks of "tuneful Orpheus, who by the skill his mother had imparted stayed the swift course of the streams" (ngp, I, xii). The mythographer Hyginus, partly basing his account of Or- pheus on the astronomical treatise of the Pseudo- Eratosthenes, tells us that "Apollo took the lyre, and is said to have taught Orpheus on it, and after he himself had invented the cithara, he gave the lyre to Orpheus" (p. 192). In the 4th century Aratea of Avienus, a Latin imitation of the Phaenomena of Aratus, we learn that "Apollo taught Orpheus to play the lyre 29 in a cave on Mount Pangaeus" (1.623) . Virgil (5;. IV, 509), Claudian (XXXI) , and Sidonius Apollinaris (XXIII) mention Orpheus' singing in a cave, but say nothing of an accompanying teacher. This education in a cave well befits Orpheus who, as we shall see elsewhere, was sup- posed to have had prOphetic powers as a result of his association with Apollo. The Deeds of Orpheus "Not Orpheus but Philammon sailed with the Argo- nauts," said Pherecydes of Athens about 450 B.C., deny- ing to Orpheus one of his most famous deeds (F_GH_ I, 26, 68) . The reasons for Pherecydes' statement are unclear since literary and artistic evidence suggests that the voyage was one of the earliest features of the [Orpheus 1egend. Pherecydes is the only classical writer, as far as I know, who denies that Orpheus was among the Argonauts, though there are many who affirm it. In Apollonius Rhodius' Argonautica, Orpheus was among those who accompanied Jason on his voyage. Even before the ship got underway a quarrel arose among the chiefs and Orpheus resolved it with his song and lyre. It is 30 interesting that the song used to calm the quarrelers was a philosophical one which dealt with the beginnings of fiiings. He sang how the earth, theheaven and the sea, once mingled together in one form, after deadly strife were separated each from the other; and how the stars and the moon and the paths of the sun ever keep their fixed place in the sky . . ." (I, 32ff). (kpheus' action here, and indeed his traditional presence ..-‘ 0-. 46 the loves, rather than the wars, of the gods and demi- gods. Mars in the net with Venus instead of on the battlefield pleased the patrons of this literature. The Alexandrian influence is evident in Ovid's Meg;- mogphoses and in Virgil's treatment of the Orpheus legend in the fourth Georgic and the 931%, and since these two poets codified the legend to some degree, it is not surprising that the poets who came after them were equally interested in the romantic elements of the story. In the literature of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, and indeed in our own age, for instance in Cocteau's "Orphe’e, " Orpheus was to become more widely known as a lover than a philOSOpher or an Argonaut. Sappho, so far as I know, makes the first ex— tant reference to the wife of Orpheus in the emended fragment discussed above, but does not name her (118a) . So too,‘three 5th century writers Speak of Orpheus' wife but do not name her. The first of these, Eurip- ides, Speaks of Orpheus' descent to Hades in search of his wife in the Alcestis, but in Spite of his in- terest in the psychology of love, he offers no further information. In this play a character says, "But, were the tongue and strain of Orpheus mine,/ To witch Demeter's 47 Ikmghter and her lord,/ And out of Hades by my song to win thee . . ." (p. 435). Euripides seems to suggest here that the story ended happily, with Orpheus return- ing with his wife to the upper world. Plato mentions the same story but gives it a somewhat different inter— pretation. But Orpheus, the son 0f Oeagrus, the harper, [the gods] sent empty away, and presented to him an apparition only of her whom he sought, but herself they would not give up, because he showed no spirit; he was only a harp-player and did not dare like Alcestis to die for love, but was contriving how he might enter Hades alive . . . (m. 179) The third writer, the orator Isocrates, is even more terse about the wife of Orpheus than Euripides or Plato. He says only that Orpheus "led the dead back from Hades" (9;,IXI, 8). Though none of these three writers sup- ;flies much information about the wife of Orpheus, two at least suggest that in their time there was a legend cm'Orpheus which had a happy ending. Hermesianax of Colophon, a 4th century writer who survives in the Deip- rmmophists of Athenaeus, also gives credence to such a version (Ath. XIII, 597), as does Moschus in his lament for Bion (III, 122). In all the later accounts Orpheus is forced to return to the upper world alone because he looks back. 48 The fact that Isocrates, Plato and Euripides do not name the wife of Orpheus is all the more curious in that Orpheus had been linked with Eurydice in Greek art as early as 400 B.C. A 5th century relief shows the two sadlytaking leave of each other as Hermes stands by (Fig. 2). The characters are clearly labeled, and even if the incised names above the figures were added later, the attributes of Orpheus and Hermes, as well as the fact that Hermes, as the psychopompos, holds the woman by thehand, leave no doubt as to the iconOgraphic meaning of the relief. Most of the later writers who allude to Orpheus' wife name her, except for a few such as Diodorus, Sta- tius, or Valerius Flaccus. The chronological position of these three men in relation to Ovid and.Virgil makes it almost impossible that they should not have known that Orpheus had a wife named Eurydice. Hermesianax, mentioned above, provides the only exception to Eurydice's name; in his version of Orpheus’ descent to Hades and his successful return, the woman is named Agriope or Wild—eyed (fish, XIII, 597).) Though there may have been others who held that this was her nmmm the identification by Hermesianax is the only 49 such reference to have survived. For writers from the 2d century B.C. on, Euryd- ice was the wife of Orpheus. Eurydice was apparently a very common name in antiquity and women with this name were the wives of other well-known mythological persons. The Cypria, a poem in the epic cycle, mentions that "Eurydice was the wife of Aeneas" (ed. Allen, p. 124). This same identification is made in a painting by Polygnotus, mentioned by Pausanias (X, xxvi). And, of course, Eurydice was also the wife of Creon in the Antigone of Sophocles. The earliest writer to name Eurydice as the wife of Orpheus was Moschus, in his poem on the death of Bion. Mosdhus, Who lived about the 2d century B.C. said that the story ended happily for "she [Persephone] granted Orpheus his Eurydice's return because he harped so sweetly" (III, 122). Another 2d century writer, Apollodorus says, in his discussion of Orpheus, that "when his wife Eurydice died, bitten by a snake, he went down to Hades, being fain to bring her up . . ." (I, 3). The legend in the Library must have been based cnla still earlier and, evidently, well-known version ofthe myth,_since Apollodorus was a compiler rather 50 than a writer of myth. There are several other refer- ences to Eurydice in Greek and Roman literature but they are all about the same in content and offer no information on the life of Eurydice before her marriage. Only‘Valerius Flaccus, in his Latin version of the A;— ggnautica of Apollonius, treats of her before her death, and he gives us a rather domestic Eurydice who, as the Argonauts are about to push off on their voyage, clings sadly to the neck of the departing Orpheus (II). Orpheus' Death and Translation to the Stars Orpheus attempted to save a woman from death and he met death at the hands of women. The story fa- miliar to us from Ovid, of how he was dismembered by the Maenads because he scorned their advances, is per- haps the most common account of his death. There are, however, other versions, as well as other reasons for his destruction by the Maenads, advanced by the writers cm'antiquity. One such alternative reason is recounted in the Metamorphgges. There Ovid adds parenthetically flun;some say it was because Orpheus introduced homo— sexual love into Thrace that the women of the country 51 killed him. This story was a relatively late addition to the Orpheus legend, for aside from Ovid, only Hyginus . 19 (Poet. Astr. II, 7) passes it on. Ovid's prObable source for Orpheus' interest in boyS‘was a poem by the Alexandrian writer Phanocles, which, since it is a representative Alexandrian treat- ment of the myth as well as a curious legend about Or- pheus, bears repeating here. . . . and Orpheus, the son of Thracian Oeag— rus, loved Calais, the son of Boreas, with all his heart, and went often in shaded groves still singing of his desire, nor was his heart at rest. But always, sleepless cares wasted his spirits as he looked at fresh Calais. The Bistonides, sharpening their long swords, ringed him in and killed him because he was the first in Thrace to desire men and to dis- approve the love of women. And they cut off his head with their bronze swords, and fas— tening it to his lyre with a nail, they threw it at once into the Thracian sea in order that it might be carried away by the sea; and the head and lyre tOgether were washed in the blue— green waves. And the sea put the head and lyre, still together, ashore at the sacred city of Lesbos. The sound of the clear-toned lyre reached both to the sea and the other islands, and to the shore where the rivers flow into the sea, and there on the shore men buried the clear-toned head of Orpheus, and put into 19The remark in the Clementine Homilies, Ag: VIII, p. 259 that "Apollo [was in love with] . . . Or- pheus,” suggests that the author may not have had too clear an idea who Orpheus was, though of course, it may Lxmsibly allude to a tradition of a homosexual Orpheus. 52 the tomb the clear-toned lyre as well, which had prevailed over both the dead rocks and the bitter waters of Phorcus. After this, the island had both songs and the lovely art of harping, and of all islands it is the most tuneful. And When the Thracian sons of Ares learned the women's wild acts, they were greatly distressed and they branded their wives in order that they would have a dark place, or tattoo, in the flesh of their bodies lest they ever forget their terrible crime. They branded the women with a vengeance for the killing of Orpheus, which has continued to this day on account of their crime. (See IL 17) Apparently Phanocles confused a custom.with a curse. The Thracians were well—known for their practice of tattooing themselves. So in an anonymous epitaph in the Greek Anthology The fair-haired daughters of Bistonia shed a thousand tears for Orpheus dead, the son of Calliope and Oeagrus; they stained their tattooed arms with blood, and dyed their Thracian locks with black ashes. (VII, 10) It is not clear whether the writer thinks they mourned or'Pheus in this fashion after they came to their senses c>I'Whether they were guiltless of his death. Plutarch Eflludes to the punishment given the Thracian women for killing Orpheus, but he does not say WhY they killed lfihlin the first place. He says, however, that in his mflltime Thracian men still tattooed their wives: 1n revenge for Orpheus" (DeSera, 12)- 53 Hyginus offers another explanation of Orpheus' death at the hands of the Maenads. Some also have said that Venus and Proser- pine came to Jove for his decision, asking him to which of them he would grant Adonis. CalliOpe, the judge appointed by Jove, de-' cided that each should possess him half the year. But Venus, angry because she had not been granted what she thought was her right, stirred all the women in Thrace by love, each to seek Orpheus for herself, so they tore him limb from limb. (p. 192) He also alludes, following Pseudo—Eratosthenes, to the explanation of Orpheus' death supposed to have been dramatized by Aesdhylus in the lost Bassarides (p. 191). In that version, Orpheus was killed for having deserted Dionysus for Apollo. Strabo, Conon and Pausanias interpret the ac— tions of the Maenads somewhat differently from Hyginus. Strabo's View, quoted earlier, was that Orpheus was too fond of power and that he was killed for this reason by his followers, who were initiated into the Dionysian mysteries, but who were not specifically women. Though the ambitious or priggish side of Orpheus' character was very little stressed in antiquity, Plato wrote sflightingly of him and Pausanius alludes directly to such a tradition. “But they say that Orpheus, [was] 54 a.proud man and conceited about his mysteries . . . (X, vii). Conon gives an elaborate account of the death and says that he was killed by the wamen of both Thrace and Macedonia because he would not allow them to partici- pate in his religious rituals (583). Pausanias lists a number of versions of Orpheus' death which were then current. In one, "the women of the Thracians plotted his death because he had persuaded their husbands to accompany him in his wanderings" (IX, xxx). There are Promethean overtones to the stories of Orpheus' death as given by these three authors, and there is evidence in the literature of the ancients that Zeus was considered to have killed Orpheus because he gave men forbidden knowledge. Pausanius alludes to yet another tradition about his death. Some say that Orpheus came to his end by be- ing struck by a thunderbolt, hurled at him by the god because he revealed sayings in the mysteries to men who had not heard them before. (IX, xxx) Imogenes Laertes, who disapproved of Orpheus, says that, traditionally, Orpheus: . . . met his death at the hands of women; but according to the epitaph at Dium in Mace— donia he was slain by a thunderbolt; it runs as follows: Here have the Muses laid their minstrel true,/ The Thracian Orpheus whom Jove's thunder Slew. (5) 55 This epitaph, moreover, exists independently in the Greek Anthology (VII, 617) . Isocrates explains that though Orpheus met his death through being torn apart by the women of Thrace, the reason for it was that Or- pheus had "made a point of rehearsing these tales of the doings of the gods" (g. XI, 39) . Finally, there are several eXplanations of Or- pheus' death which, judging by the infrequency with which they were mentioned, must have had little currency in antiquity. Orpheus, for example, is said by some writers to have killed himself. Pausanius mentions this view (IX, xxx) , and is perhaps following Agathar- chides of Cnidos, who lived about two hundred years before him and who had said substantially the same thing (quoted in Comes, Mytholoqiae, VII, xiv, p. 769) . That some writers may have felt that Orpheus was killed by animals is hinted at in two epigrams by Martial which deal with the Spectacula presented in the Colosseum dur- ing the reign of Titus (gaging. xxi, xxi b). Generally we think that the first pastoral interlude with Orpheus as a hero was that written by Poliziano in the 15th century. But this was not the case. Martial speaks of an elaborate entertainment, evidently with scenery, 56 presented in the Arena before Titus. In this enter- tainment the story of Orpheus was dramatized and at the end Orpheus "fell, mangled by an ungrateful bear“ (xxi). In the second epigram a similar entertainment is described in which a bear came out of the ground, sent by Eurydice to attack Orpheus (xxi b). It is difficult to determine from these two poems whether those responsible for the staging of the Spectaculum were attempting to add new interest to an old legend and at the same time make use of an animal which would be in the Arena for other purposes, or whether there really were stories about Orpheus being injured or killed by the animals he sought to charm. Martial takes pains, however, to point out to the Emperor, in his explanation of the entertainment, that the de— tail of the bear was not something ordinarily part of the legend of Orpheus: "This thing alone was done un- told by history" (xxi). In the absence of earlier leg- ends of this sort about Orpheus and the animals, I think we must conclude that the presence of the bear was a hut of good stage-craft which had little or nothing to with traditional accounts of the death of Orpheus.20 n 20An instance of a semi-dramatic treatment of the Orpheus legend is mentioned in Varro,.Rn§t., III, 57 Of stories about the fate of Orpheus after his death there are two general classes. First, a collec- tion of legends deals with his head and lyre in their journeys by water. We have already alluded to these stories.21 The second group deals with the translation of Orpheus to the heavens. Most of the stories in this group derive ultimately from the Phaenomena of Aratus and the Catasterismi of the Pseudo-Eratosthenes. Hyginus, in his work on the constellations, gives a nice account hesed on these two writers. It may be considered as representative of the legends which place Orpheus in the heavens after death. 13. The author Speaks of a feast in a game preserve in Laurentum: "In it was a high spot where was spread the table at which we were dining, to which he [the host] bade Orpheus be called. ‘When he appeared with his robe and'harp, and was hidden to sing, he blew a horn; where- upon there poured around us such a crowd of stags, boars and other animals . . ." 1Pausanias tells a curious story which appears to be a conflation of the legends of Antigonus and Phan- ocles. "The Libethrians, it is said, received out of Thrace an oracle from Dionysus, stating that when the mnlshould see the bones of Orpheus, then the city of Idbethra would be destroyed by a boar - . . . About nddday a shepherd was asleep against the grave of Or- pheus, 'and even as he Slept he began to sing poetry of(h$heus in a loud and sweet voice . . ." Awakening, lmeknocked over the urn, exPosing the bones and the City‘was overcome by the river Sys (IX: xxx). 58 The lyre was put among the constellations for the following reason, as Eratosthenes says. Made at first by Mercury from a tor- toise shell, it was given to Orpheus, son of Calliope and Oeagrus, who was passion- ately devoted to music . . . [after his death] the Muses gathered the scattered limbs and gave them burial, and as the greatest favor they could confer, they put as a memorial his lyre, pictured with stars, among the constellations. Apollo and Jove consented, for Orpheus had praised Apollo highly, and Jupiter granted this fa- vor to his daughter . . . (Poet. Astr., p. 191) Lucian also speaks of the catasterism of Orpheus, but offers a different reason for it. He says that because Orpheus sang of theologicalmatters as well as of the music of the spheres, the seven planets agreeing with the seven strings of his lyre, "to honor these things, the Greeks set apart a station in the heavens and nu- o merous stars are denominated Orpheus his harp" (Ing,, 6). However Orpheus came to be in the heavens, he seems to have held his position there for many centuries. As long as the men of antiquity, of the Middle Ages, and of the Renaissance looked at the stars and found there the instrument of reason, the lyre, they were tempted to discuss Orpheus in cosmological terms. Gower's Or- pheus,'who brought Boethian amor and concord to the 4"" - l...»- .'-- . ..yv ...-.‘ 59 warring elements, was not far in intellectual history from the peacemaking Orpheus of the classical writers; nor would it be lost on a man accustomed to look at the stars, and to think in terms of concordia discors, that the lyre of Orpheus the man of reason and contemplation must, in the nature of things, be placed near the con- stellation of Hercules. CHAPTER ONE ORPHEUS IN CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITY . The Oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. These lines from Milton's "On the Morning of Christ's Nativity" are fine poetry but poor history. Pagan culture did not come to a halt at the birth of Christ, nor even with the Edict of Milan in 312. In— deed, the vitality of the Orpheus myth is nowhere more evident than in the Apostolic and early Patristic per— iods. ZDuring the first few centuries after the death CE Christ, Christian writers, while generally hostile towards pagan mythology because of its promotion of Emlytheism and idolatry, came to regard the myth of CkpheuS‘with increasing favor. The Fathers found that the Shnilarities betWeen the life and deeds of Orpheus and those of Christ were useful in presenting to the Gentiles Christ's ministry and teaching, particularly 60 61 since almost any Greek would know the legend of Orpheus. The divine parentage of both Orpheus and Christ, their miracle-working abilities, their civilizing missions, violent deaths; and most important, the distinction they both shared in having been able to return to the world of the living from the underworld, made for a striking and effective analogy by which the Signifi— cance of Christ's life could be impreSsed upon a po- tential convert. Eventually, the legend of Orpheus even acquired, in the writings of the Fathers, a Christian significance of its own. Yet the transition from the Orpheus of pagan antiquity treated in the Introduction to this study, to the new Orpheus of Christian antiquity, was not without dust and heat. In some of the earliest apol— Ogies, Orpheus was regarded as merely another pagan demi-god to be discredited. The suggestion that his myth, or any pagan myth, could have value for Chris— tians, is lacking from certain of the very earliest extant apologies, such as that of Tatian. But as the churdh grew:more secure in the Empire, Christian writers singled Orpheus out more and more frequently as a myth— ological figure of peculiar interest to Christians. -- b. tui ..u 62 Thus, parts of the Orpheus legend were emphasized and de-emphasized in order to shape it to fit the service of the newly emerging spiritual and social power. In addition to comparison with the life of Christ, there were two other ways in which the legend was employed by the Christian controversialists. First, they saw Orpheus as a pagan spOkesman for monotheism. Second, the Fathers often spoke of him as the earliest Greek theologian when they wished to show that Moses and his writings were earlier. It is in these three areas that Orpheus' encounters with Christianity are most notable. Orpheus and thenggpe of Antiguity One of the pagan charges against the Christians most difficult to counter, was that they were new- fangled and had neither traditions nor history. In reply to this charge, the Christian apologists traced Christianity's origins back to Judaism and then tried 1x>show that the Old Testament and its prophets were far older than the sacred books of the Greeks, such as the Homeric poems, the Theogony of Hesiod and the I... .«u 63 poems of Orpheus. Since this technique becomes in the hands of the apologists a rhetorical device, I have, for convenience, called it the tr0pe of antiquity. Attempts to show that the Pentateuch and the prophets were older than and superior to the writings of the Greeks were not peculiar to the Christian apol- ogists. Such attempts, we may recall, had already been made by Alexandrian Jewish writers. The reasons why these writers wished to show the antiquity and su- periority of the law are not completely agreed upon and there are two general positions on this point at present. The first, and most prevalent, is that held by L. Cerfaux and H. A. Wolfson.l Briefly, this view holds that as the Jews diSpersed and became more in~ volved in Hellenistic life, the common ideology of Judaism became of greater importance to them. With their common background and homeland no longer so evi— dent, they became increasingly concerned with its exis— tence and superiority to their present surroundings. \ lL. Cerfaux, "Influence des Mysteres sur le Judaisme avant Philon," Musébn 37 (1924) and H. A. Wo1fson, Philo (Cambridge, Mass., 1948), I, 4ff. A good discussion of JewiSh prOpaganda can be found in A, Nook, Conversion (Oxford, 1933): pp- 78-81- ...-.u 64 According to this view, the apologetic literature of this period was chiefly proselytising in nature, try- ing to persuade Greeks by works written in that lan— guage, that Jehovah was the one true God and that Israel would ultimately be triumphant.2 The second position on these writings is presented by Moses Hadas. He argues that the Jews were not writing for the Greeks, but rather for each other in the hOpe of "strengthening the self-esteem of the Jews themselves and perhaps heightening their esteem in the eyes of the dominant environment.” Because many Alexandrian Jews did not know Hebrew, these works were written in Greek. The Christian apologists, in taking over the trOpe of antiquity from the Jews, were, of course, putting this trope to very different uses. No one had accused the Jews of being new-fangled, or of hav— ing a religion without tradition, whereas almost all 2The Alexandrian Jews also tried to trace Greek science back to Enoch, Moses, and Abraham. Moses "was the teadher of Orpheus; and when grown up he taught man— kind many useful things. For he was the inventor of ships, and machines for laying stones, and Egyptian arms, and engines for drawing water and for war, and invented philosophy. Further he divided the State into thirty- Six Nomes . . ." Artapanus in Eusebius, Praep. Evang., IX: 27, tr. Gifford. 3Aristeaa to Philocrates (New York, 1951),p.60. 65 of the apologists felt compelled to answer such charges. The earliest extant apologists to use the trOpe of an— tiquity with reference to Orpheus were Tatian and The- ophilus in the 2d century. These two early apologists exemplify quite distinct attitudes toward history, to— wards apologetic techniques and towards Orpheus. Tatian looks baCkward to the apologetic techniques of the Al- exandrian Jews and his attitude towards Orpheus is one of mild hostility. For Theophilus on the other hand, a history based on accurate bible chronology is of prime importance as a device to counter pagan charges. Pagan history such as that of Tacitus, provided the new Christian convert with no information about his religiOn. And Theophilus was perhaps the first of the Fathers to supply this lack. It soon became imperative for the Christians to produce a chronology which would . . . summarize the history which the converts were now supposed to consider their own . . . show the antiquity of the Jewish-Christian doctrine . . . [and] present a model of provi— dential history. The result was that, unlike pagan chronology, Christian chronology was also a philos0phy of history. 4Arnaldo Momigliano, ”Pagan and Christian His- toriography in the Fourth Century A.D." in A. Momigli- ano ed. The Conflict Between Pa anism and Christianit in the Fourth Centur (Oxford, 1963), p. 83. 66 Tatian (b. 120 A.D.). Tatian makes use of the older geneological chronology to Show that Moses is more ancient,-and hence has greater authority than the Greek writers. . . . it is evident that Moses was older than the ancient heroes, wars and demons. And we ought rather to believe him who stands before them in point of age, than the Greeks, who, without being aware of it, drew his doctrines [as] from a foun- tain . . . . Moses is not only older than Homer, but than all the writers that were before him—-older than Linus, Philammon, Thamyris, Amphion, Musaeus, Orpheus . . . (Ad Gr., XL, XLI, ANF, p. 81). This statement implies that the philoSOphers and poets drew their information from the Pentateuch, and hence that Whatever they may say is at second hand. In this, Tatian's approach is similar to that of Artapanus men- tioned above. Tatian is more concerned to explode the pagan arguments by means of the trOpe of antiquity than to reply to them with a new Christian chronology. To him, Orpheus was a barbarian who taught the Greeks the mysteries and a poet whose reputation was false, since all of his works, as we saw in the Introduction, were written by Onomacritus (Ad Gr., I, KILL ANF, pp. 65, 81). Certainly Tatian makes no attempt to put Orpheus to Christian uses. 67 Theophilus (b. 140 A.D.). TheOphilus uses the trOpe of antiquity rather differently from Tatian. In him we can see combined a need to formulate Christian history and a desire to conserve the best of Greek learning. TheOphilus tries to develOp a Christian theory of history based on actual events rather than the genealogies of pagan myth. He takes pains to re- fute, by means of bible chronology, specific claims of the pagans. Jubal is he who made known the psaltery and the harp . . . others say that Orpheus dis— covered the art of music from the sweet voices of the birds. Their story is shown to be empty and vain, for these inventors [i.e. Orpheus] lived many years after the flood. (Ad Autol., II, 30, ANF, p. 106) Theophilus as a practical apologist did not wiSh to discard pagan mythology and history entirely. As a Greek convert deeply conversant with the litera— ture of his culture, he may well have wished to avoid antagonizing his Greek readers. His apologetic method, is, on the whole, an urbane one. For instance, he makes a distinction between pagan and Christian revel- ation, but still admits that God was present to the theologians of the pagans. 68 Did not the poets Homer and Hesiod and Or- pheus profess that they themselves had been instructed by Divine Providence? . . . How much more, then, shall ye_know the truth who are instructed by the holy prophets, who were possessed by the Holy Spirit of God: (5g Autol., III, 17, ANF, p. 116). Clement (b. 150 A.D.). Clement of Alexandria went even further than Theophilus in admitting the pos- sibility that the pagans may have had some understand- ing of the Truth, and again, as in the case of TheOph- ilus, it may have been because he had a broad knowledge of Hellenic and Hellenistic literature. He wrote three works, the Protrepticus or Exhortation to the Greekg, the Paedogoqgs or Instructor and the Stromata or Mis- cellanies. In the Protrepticus and Stromata he dis- cusses Orpheus at some length. Clement is important to us here in that he supplies information about Or— pheus in each of the three areas discussed in this chapter. His use of the trope of antiquity, however, occurs mainly in the Stromata, a work in eight books which, as its name suggests, deals with a great variety of subjects, including the relation between Greek phil- osophy and theology and the wisdom of the Hebrew Penta- teuch. 69 Clement was extremely interested in Greek phil- osophy and its application to Christianity. He was much concerned with the way in which the Greeks came to have access to the true theology, and the trOpe of antiquity was helpful to him in his eXplanation. He asserts, for example, that the wisdom of the Greeks was in reality, of barbarian origin, and that most of it derived from the Egyptians who in turn got it from the Jews. And that most of [the oldest Greek philoso- phers] were barbarians by extraction, and were trained among barbarians, what need is there to say? Pythagoras is shown to have been either a Tuscan or a Tyrian . . . and Orpheus was an Odrysian or a Thracian. The most, too, Show Homer to have been an Egyp- tian . . . . And Plato does not deny that he procured all that is most excellent in philosophy from the barbarians; and he ad- mits that he came into Egypt. (Strom. I, xv, ANF, p. 395) In another part of the Stromata, Clement dis- cusses the way in which God is intelligible but not sensible. He finds this idea not merely in the Old Testament, but in the writings of Plato and Orpheus as well, who, he conjectures, learned it from Moses. "For both is it a difficult task to dis- cover the Father and Maker of this universe; and having found Him, it is impossible to declare Him to all . . .," says the truth— 7O loving Plato. For he had heard right well that the all-wise Moses, ascending the mount for holy contemplation, to the summit of intellectual objects, necessarily commands that the whole people do not accompany him . . . . And again Orpheus, the theologian, aided from this quarter, . . . adds: "Him no one of mortals has seen, but He sees all." (v, xii, ANF, p. 267) If Plato and Orpheus understood the single and incor- poreal nature of God, and had the authority of learn- ing it from the Pentateuch, then their works are not without value for the Christians. Moreover, one feels that Clement, in the Stromata, wishes to justify his own fondness for the thought of Plato by enlisting him in the "philosophical family" who lived before or in ignorance of Christ, as Dante calls them. "There I saw Socrates and Plato,/ who stood before all others . . . and I saw Orpheus,/ Tullius and Linus . . ." (Inf., IV, l32ff). Clement apparently agrees with the early neo-Platonist, Numenius, whom he quotes as having asked, "What is Plato, but Moses Speaking in Attic Greek?” (Strom. I, xxii, ANF, p. 449). Orpheus, of course, is much less acceptable than Plato as a precursor of Christian theology, but even he is shown as being in the direct line of Moses, one of those "taught in theology by those prOphets . . 71 I mean Orpheus, Linus, Musaeus, Homer, and Hesiod, and those in this fashion wise." (Strom. V, iv, ANF, p. 234) Thus, since pagan philosophy had the sanction of a Mosaic origin, and since it offered the only avail— able systematic approach to knowledge, such learning, Clement felt, was indispensable to the Christians of his time. Such, at least, is the justification Clement offers for his use of the pagan philosophy, in the first bodk of the Stromata. If the Hellenic philos0phy comprehends not the whole extent of the truth . . . yet it prepares the way for the truly royal teach- ing; training in some way or other, and moulding the character, and fitting him who believes in Providence for the recep- tion of the truth. (I, xvi, ANF, p. 405) Orpheus, then, when he speaks of the incorporeality of God, is speaking as one divinely inspired, who should be listened to by the Christian as one pagan who confirms the doctrine of the Church. With the edict of Milan in 312, relations be- tween the Christians and the pagans changed radically. To some degree the Christians were less defensive about their own position in the Empire, since, as far as they were concerned, Constantine had espoused their cause. 'K 72 This growing self-assurance in the early Church was reflected in the somewhat changed character of the apologetic writings of the 4th century, and for our purposes, in the apologists' attitude toward Orpheus. The apologists generally, with the exception, perhaps, of Lactantius, were somewhat readier to see a limited value in pagan culture. Even though Christianity was a defacto religion, apologists still employed the trope of antiquity and they still employed it with reference to Orpheus. Some of the apologists now admit that Orpheus knew that there was only one God and cannot understand why he should not have committed himself to monotheism at once. Theodoret (b. 396 A.D.). Theodoret, like Clem— ent and others, was a comparatist in religious matters, much interested in the religious customs of the Empire though never for a moment suggesting a syncretism in which Christianity was on a par with, for instance, Mithraism. Theodoret was indebted to Clement in sev- eral ways, not the least being that he took over a Clementine metaphor in the title of his apology, g_ Eyre for the Ills of the'Greeks. In his Exhortation 73 to the Greeks, Clement had referred to Christ and the New Law as the "wounded surgeon“ who would heal the "distempered parts" of the Gentiles, and Theodoret develops this idea in his own apolOgy. Theodoret dis- plays his apologist's credentials by showing the great antiquity of Jewish thought to the Greeks. He does this by the traditional dating of Moses and of the life and times of Orpheus. He exhorts the Greeks to reject a false mythology and accept a true theology. Why then do we draw water from this troubled and muddy trickle [cf Greek myth] in place of the limpid fountain where the Platonic theology has Sprung and in which he [Plato] mixed slime and mud. Do you not know that Moses the law giver of the Jews is far older than all your poets, historians and philoso- phers? (Gr. Cur Aff. II, pg, 83, 840) Supporting his views with the conjectures of Jewish historians whom he presumes to have authoritative know- ledge, he points out that Moses lived thousands of years before the Trojan War, while "Homer and Hesiod lived long after this war, Orpheus, the first of the poets, lived only a generation before it, since with Jason and his company he took part in the voyage of the Argo" (II, 3g, 83, 841)- 74 Theodoret is one of the few apologists who re- fers to the supposedly historical deeds of Orpheus, and to him Orpheus seems to have been a historical person whose life was of considerable interest. Theo- doret offers more information about Orpheus the man, poet and theologian than do most of his predecessors, drawing his information from pagan and Jewish sources, such as Plutarch, Diodorus, Demosthenes, Plato and Artapanus, Eupolemus and Aristobulus the Peripatetic. He followed Diodorus in assuming that Orpheus was an early syncretist wmmn learning in Egypt the mysteries of Isis and Osiris, changed them into those of Demeter and Dionysus when he came to Athens (I, g§_83, 796). According to Theodoret, in addition to learn- ing the mysteries in Egypt, Orpheus learned monotheism there as well. In this he was an admirable figure though he is to be castigated for refusing to accept the truth when once he knew it. Not only was Orpheus guilty of refusing the light himself, but, more heinous still, he deceived his followers. Though Orpheus had learned the true theology from the Egyptians who in turn had gotten some idea of this from the Jews, he mixes in his theology some elements of error and transmits the infamous orgies of Dionysus. 75 After having, so to speak, coated with honey the rim of the cup, he lets those who would drink there, drink wormwood. (II, §g_83, 836) Augustine (b. 354 A.D.) . By the end of the 4th century, the apologetic period had drawn to a close and Augustine's City of God marked the last major effort in this genre. The reason was, of course, that there was no longer anything for which the Christian must apologize. In the City of God and elsewhere, Augustine makes a few references to Orpheus, some of which are traditional and some of which are original. He had sufficient distance from the Hellenistic and Graeco— Roman practice of mingling old deities and creating new ones, to regard this practice with historical in- terest and Christian scorn. Augustine used the trOpe of antiquity with reference to Orpheus, but his inter- est in him really lay, not in showing that Moses was older than Orpheus, but rather in showing Orpheus the hero, how he came to be regarded as divine, and in what way the monotheism attributed to him was to be regarded by the Christian. While there was little evidence with which to assume that Orpheus was ever worshipped as a god, 76 descriptions of the deifications of heroes were quite common in Hellenistic literature. Pausanias, very atten— tive to the customs of his own and the preceding age, describes such a process. A certain young man was sup- posed to be the son of Heracles and was accordingly named Theagenes. After many feats of remarkable strength in childhood, the young man became a famous athlete and won the garland fourteen-hundred times. His people set up a statue to him when he died and later threw it into the sea when the statue killed a man who had insulted it, falling on him and crushing him to death. After they had disposed of the statue, a great plague came upon the people and finally recovering the statue from the sea and worshipping it as a god, the peOple set up many shrines to Theagenes throughout Greece. (VI, ii, 1-9) The apologists are very fond of pointing out such deifications as this to the pagans in an effort to show them that the gods they worshipped were or had been mere men. It much disturbed the Fathers, on the other hand, that the pagans treated their gods as hu- man beings or at least as very superior beings whose peccadillos and appetites were human but on a grand 77 scale. Origen, for example, Chastised Celsus because he had "omitted to take notice of the myth, embellished chiefly by Orpheus, in which the gods are described as affected by human weaknesses and passions" (Contra Celsum, I, 16-18, ANF, pp. 402-3). Augustine alludes to such a process of mistaken dekication in relation to Orpheus. Apparently there were those who confused the notion that Orpheus had impnassed the gods of the underworld by his music with the idea that Orpheus was in some way a god of the underworld. Even such poets as Orpheus, Musaeus and Linus were unable to abstain from dishon- ouring their gods by fables. But yet these theologues, worshipped the gods, and were not worshipped aS gods, although the city of the ungodly is wont, I know not how, to set Orpheus over the sacred, or rather sac- rilegious rites of hell. (Civ. Dei, XVIII, l4, tr. M. Dods) A notable feature of Augustine's treatment of Orpheus, which may indicate the apologetic temper of the age, is his inability to understand how Orpheus, once he knew the truth, could fail to act upon it. For this rea- son he expressed mistrust of Orpheus to his Christian followers. 78 If any truth about God or the Son of God is taught or predicted in the Sibyls, or in Orpheus . . . it may be useful for the refutation of Pagan error, but cannot lead us to believe in these writers. For while they spoke, because they could not help it, of the God whom we worship, they either taught their fellow-countrymen to worship idols or demons, or allowed them to do so without daring to protest against it. (Contra Faustum XIII, 15, PNF, p. 205) Augustine suggests that though heathen writers may have been divinely inSpired with an understanding of the LOgOS, inspiration is not an act of will, and as in the Ion, such writers are only instruments for the revelation of the truth and do not themselves contrib- ute to it. It is not then sufficient, to Augustine's way of thinking, that a writer should have been aware, like Orpheus, of the truth of monotheism or Christian- ity, if he did not commit himself in principle and action to it. Augustine's emphasis, on volitional- ism then, seems to lead him to a somewhat different position with regard to Orpheus than that of the other apologists. Even though Augustine differed from some of the other apologists we have considered in certain particulars of his treatment of Orpheus, he still made use of the trOpe of antiquity in traditional 79 fashion. Though Orpheus was old, Moses was, of course, older. Only those theological poets, Orpheus, Linus and Musaeus, and it may be, some others among the Greeks, are found ear- lier in date than the Hebrew prophets whose writings we hold as authoritative. But not even those preceded in time our true divine, Moses, who authentically preached the one true God . . . (Civ. Dei, XVIII, 37, tr. M. Dods). Miscellaneous authors. There are, of course, other brief references to Orpheus in the works of the Christian apologists, most of which are variations on the themes outlined above. These brief mentions, how- ever, include most of the more hostile references to Orpheus. Whereas the detailed treatments of him tend to be qualifications, the Short ones tend to be blan- ket condemnations. Two examples from the Fathers, one early and one late, will suffice to illustrate their character. For Athenagoras (b. 140 A.D.), Or- pheus is merely the representative of a depraved and brutal mystery religion which honored gods without divinity, dignity, or truth. If they [the Gentiles] really thought pro- miscuous and unrestrained sexual intercourse wrong, they ought to hate . . . Orpheus their poet who told of Zeus' wickedness and of his 80 impieties worse than those of Thyestes . . ." (Embassy for the Christians, 32, tr. J. Crehan) Gregory of Nazianzen (b. 330 A.D.) holds much the same opinion of Orpheus in his Oration on Holy Lights. Giv- ing a list of various pagan evils, he said that among the Christians there were no "Thracian orgies from which the word Worship . . . is said to be derived; nor rites and mysteries of Orpheus” (PNF, p. 353). Orpheus as a Spokesman for Monotheism Had Virgil read, two hundred years after his death, the works of Clement of Alexandria or Justin Martyr, he would have been puzzled to find that a new deed had been attributed to Orpheus, and that this deed seemed more important to the Christian writers than the underworld adventures which had interested Virgil in the Aeneid. When Orpheus was an old man, [Virgil would have read, he recanted his earlier po- lytheism, rejected the pagan gods and eXpressed his belief in one god. vThe idea that Orpheus had travelled in Egypt and there been instructed by Moses had been put for- ward by Artapanus as early as 150 B.C. But at that 81 time the idea was not developed further, and was used mainly to embellish Jewish history. It is only in the time of the Christian apologists, that the fruit of Orpheus' Egyptian education becomes a prominent feature of his story. Criticizing the apostate Em- porar Julian, Cyril of Alexandria (b. 380 A.D.) is able by the end of the 4th century A.D. to refer con- fidently to Orpheus' death bed contrition as an estab- lished part of the Orpheus legend. They say of Orpheus the son of Oeagrus, that he was the most superstitious of men, that he lived before Homer and that he composed songs and hymns to the fictitious gods, getting much glory from this. Fur- ther, they say that then he rejected his own teachings, understanding that he had left the path and wandered from the right road, and choosing the better cause, he SPOke truth about God instead of his ear- 1ier lies. (Contra Jul. I, §§_76, 541) Where would Cyril have learned this new version 0f the Orpheus legend? There was a poem in the Hellen- iStic period, thought to have been written by Orpheus to his son Musaeus, and called his Palinode or Testa- ment (yf/a(697w2/6). The God of the Palinode "controls the winds of the air and the waters of the stream." Zeus was often called/g/po V77; \/ Thunderer, and Oé/ /a¢ , God of Good Winds, and he shook mountains in his wrath.7 6Wolfson says that "in Hellenistic times the term Zeus ceased to be the proper name for a god and came to mean 'chief god'," 15n. 7The fact that God is present everywhere in the universe and represents the element of fire, "and he makes the flame of his self-engendered fire shine out," suggests Stoic influence on the thought of the poem, of the sort that is present in the Hellenistic Book of Wisdom. In Cleanthes' "Hymn to Zeus,“ there are references to the god as Perfecter and controller of the elements. "The whole order of the heavens obey- eth Thy word: as it moveth around the earth . . . Nor is anything done apart from Thee: nor in the firmament, nor in the seas," tr. W. Pater. For the full text of this hymn as well as a collection of Stoic cosmologi- cal fragments relevant to the Palinode, see Edwyn Bevan, Later Greek Religion (Boston, Mass., 1950). The Palin- ode is also linked with Greek prayers likely to have 87 The Palinode of Orpheus incorporates two syn— cretic traditions of Hellenistic thOught which had perhaps as much bearing on the changing figure of Orpheus as did the Palinode itself directly. These traditions are, first, the initiatory or "mystery" lore, in which one man unfolds a divine wisdom and ritual to others, and second, the prophetic, as dem— onstrated particularly by the long line of Sibylline and pseudo-Sibylline literature. The essentially Hellenistic nature of the new Orpheus who emerges from the works of the Christian Father can be demon— strated by examining the Palinode in terms of these traditions which it brings together. Jewish_Mysteries. The opening of the Palinode reminds one of the Prorrhesis or Proclamation of a Greek mystery with the young Musaeus serving as the / / / V0.77 f , and with Orpheus the theologian and seer been of interest to Hellenized Jews. See for example a magical papyrus from Egypt in Karl Preisendanz, ed. Papyri Graecae Magicae, (Leipzig, 1931) XII, 254ff. This papyrus contains a theurgic invocation to Zeus as a commander of winds and one who makes the hills and.plains tremble as well as controls the waters of streams and rivers. Also of interest are I1, X, 5-6; XII, 278; XVI, 297; XVII, 645; and 9g. V, 303-5, as well as Ps. 18: 13—14. 88 giving to him religious information which is forbidden to unpurified men. But the Palinode does not portray an Orphic mystery, rather it presents Hebrew wisdom in the language of an initiation. Musaeus learns, not the nature of Dionysus, but the nature of Jehovah and his divine government. This government encompasses all men, even those who deny its existence or who are unaware of it. But Musaeus is warned that he must keep his new-found knowledge to himself--perhaps be- cause the time is not ripe for this mystery to be widely known. If the idea of a Jewish "mystery" seems a contradiction in terms, we should recall that the A1- exandrian Jews, aware that they were the en y monothe— ists, regarded their Law as their exclusive property or mystery. In the Hellenistic period, the term ‘/VUO”TjQO/at ‘was no longer a purely pagan term for the hermetic rituals of certain cults. Wolfson notes that the term mystery "had acquired in Greek philOSOphy an additional meaning. It referred to that kind of wisdom which some philosophers believed . . . to bee long to the gods, and which had been imparted in secret only to a chosen few” (I, 24). In the Palinode Orpheus 89 is seen in his traditional Hellenic role as unveiler of mystic rites and secret wisdom to a circle of in— itiates, but the kind of wisdom he reveals is Hebraic and illustrates the type of syncretism associated with the Jews of Alexandria. If the Palinode were written by an Alexandrian Jew who wished either to convert the pagans or to raise the morale of his own countrymen, it would be very likely to introduce the god of Abraham and Isaac by reference to his nearest counterpart in pagan theology and this it does. It refers to God interchangeably as 696 01f , a common noun traditionally used for any God, and 4A2. , the accusative form of the prOper noun tra— ditionally used for Zeus. The Hellenistic Jews tried to show the Greeks that when they worshipped Zeus, they were really wor— shipping, under a different name, Jehovah, the One God of Israel. The Jew Aristeas, in an apologetic work in which he masquerades as a Greek, called Aristeas to Philocrates, tells how he tried to persuade Ptolemy Philadelphus to release his Jewish slaves. Release those who are afflicted in wretched- ness, for the same God [Ml/7177 6’5"; ] who has given them their law guides your king- dom also, as I have learned in my researches. 90 God, the overseer and creator of all things,, whom they worship is He whom all men worship, and we too, Your Majesty, though we address ‘ Him differently, as Zeus and Dis [2?7pu2.%flx/ ,CL ']; by these names men of old not unsuitably signified that He through whom all creatures receive life and come into being is the guide and lord of all. (tr. Hadas. 18, pp. 100-103) The Jews used not only the name but also the epithets of Zeus when wishing to describe their own god. For instance Philo, when speaking of the hard- ships which the Jews underwent in Egypt, says that Pharoah showed no "Shame or fear of the God of lib- erty and hospitality to guests and suppliants"(Life of Moses, I, 36, my emphasis). The epithets Philo } / / applied to Jehovah 6)CUE‘)€5/0/ 6’ f and f6 V/ of were the property of Zeus, the latter since the time of Homer, for Paris, in violating the law of Zeus HOSpitable had brOught on the Trojan War (11, XIII, 625). The Prophetic Tradition. Clement of Alexan- dria, attempting to prove that the Greeks had some knowledge of the true God, quotes St. Paul as saying "Take also the Hellenic books, read the Sibyl, how it is shown that God is one" (§E£2E3 VI, 5, ENE, p- 328). The writings collected under the name Sibylline 91 Oracles8 were so popular with the Fathers that they refer red to them almost as often as they did to the Old Testament. This pOpularity is understandable when we realize that the oracles current in the first three centuries A.D. were not so much answers to specific questions, put to them by pilgrims such as Aeneas, but rather, more general statements, often of monotheism and moral philosophy, very much in accord with the pre— cepts of the Christian Fathers. When the Capitol burned in 83 B.C., the great Roman collection of Sibylline oracles was destroyed and the government sent collectors to Sicily, Greece, and Asia Minor, the nominal home of the Sibylline pro- phecies to make a new collection (Lactantius, Qiy. Instit. I, 6). But this new collection, ostensibly of genuine oracles only, included many forgeries, and, most notably, forgeries by Alexandrian Jews. Bard Thompson, in his article "Patristic Use of the Sibyl- line Oracles," describes the nature of these contribu— tions as follows. 8See Milton S. Terry, ed. and tr. The Sibyl— line Oracles (N.Y., 1890). The introduction to this work is helpful for questions of dating, source and influence. 92 Among the early creators of spurious Siby — lina were Alexandrian Jews who shared the general enthusiasm which arose at the begin- ning of the Maccabean revolt . . . [The Sib- yls were used] in a serious attempt to place Jewish intellectual achievements clearly be- fore the world . . . to give expression to the increasing influence of eschatological thoughts . . ., to convey threats of doom against persecuting powers, especially ASw syria and Rome, and . . . to prOpagate to this wider, Sibylline audience the rudiments of the Hebrew faith, especially her monothe— ism and moralism. Several passages in the Palinode of Orpheus show the dependence of the author upon the Sibylline books, almost particularly upon their Proem, which ex~ ists almost complete in the apologetic work of Theo- philus of Antioch. This Proem appears to be a frag— ment from an earlier collection of oracles and is, in Terry's opinion, the work of an Alexandrian Jew at the beginning of the 3rd century B.C. (The Sibyl— line Oracleg, p. 18). It makes several statements about the nature of God: One God there is Who reigns alone, supremely great, unborn, Almighty and invisible, himself Alone beholding all things, but unseen Is he himself by any mortal flesh. For who is able with the eyes of flesh To see the heavenly, true, immortal God Whose dwelling is the sky? (tr. Terry, p. 25) 9Review of Religion XVI (1952), p- 125. 93 When this passage is compared with the corresponding passages from the Palinode--"He is one, self—begotten, and all things are brought to pass by him. He is im- manent, yet transcendent. No man can see him though he can be known by the intelligence"——similarities of both style and matter are immediately evident. In an- other part of the Proem, the Sibyl describes the visi- tation of evils upon men as follows: . . . [God] rewards the good, With an abundant bounty, but fierce wrath He rouses for the wicked and unjust, And war, and pestilence, and tearful woes. (p- 26) The Palinode describes the same evils in words that seem direct echoes, listing them as ". . . Strife, Hatred, War, Plague and tearful Grief." Not only the order of the catalogue, but also the use of personifi- cations in the Proem and Palinode are similar, though it is a matter of editorial preference as to whether these uses of the Singular are to be capitalized. Most y/ interesting is the phrase "tearful Griefs" ( 0(,J}/E?ox ((01 ,{711 6'0/6 V7¢k ) which I have not been able to find elsewhere in Greek literature but in these two poems. Since the authorship of the Palinode is unknown, it 94 cannot of course, definitely be established that the author read the Sibylline books. It is very likely, however, that he did. If, as I have tried to show, the author of the Palinode was an Alexandrian Jew, he would have been familiar with some Sibyllina, and most certainly with some of Alexandrian origin. A similarity of purpose further links the Proem and the Palinode. Both works attempt to put into the mouth of a pagan who was a traditional pro— phet of the Olympian gods, statements which describe 'and subscribe to a monotheistic god. That the same effort is shared by subsequent Christian writers is borne out by the frequency with which they cite the Opening fragment of the Proem. Probably its concise statement of monotheistic doctrine and the fact that it was written in easily recalled hexameters contrib- uted further to its currency. The Opening lines of the Sibylline Proem are quoted for example by Justin, Theodoret, Basil, Gregory Nazianzen, Lactantius, Clem— ent, Eusebius and Cyril. Though the Christian Fathers and the Jewish writers were equally interested in the Sibyls, they diSplay certain differences in emphasis. The Jews 95 were more interested in the Sibyls themselves, assert- ing that one was actually Jewish and a daughter-in-law of Moses. The Fathers, on the other hand, thought of the Sibyls merely as amanuenses whose prophecies but not whose persons were to be praised. They were, like certain other great figures of the non-Christian world, to be revered only insofar as they prophesied Christi- anity or exhorted men to Christian ideals. The attempts of the Fathers to point to places in the Old Testament which predict the coming of Christ have parallels in their treatments of the Sibylline books--in both in— stances they were in a sense recasting history to sup— port what they viewed as the inevitability of the New Law. In the same way, they conjectured that Virgil's fourth Eclogue, the Pollio heralded the birth of Christ. The Palinode of Orpheus is received by many Christian authorsin the same way as are the Sibylline books. Memorable parts of it are repeatedly invoked by such writers as Clement, Theodoret, Justin, Euseb— ius, and Cyril as instances of true wisdom from the mouth of a pagan. And it might be ventured that, in at least one case, the variation of one text from an— other points to an attempt by a Christian editor to 96 Christianize even further the pagan (or Jewish) wisdom he is quoting.‘ As was mentioned above, there is a difference between the two most complete versions of Orpheus' Palinode which we possess. While Justin quotes Or- pheus as having said that God "gives men evil out of his goodness,“ Eusebius quotes him as saying that God . . . out of his goodness, does not ordain [evil for mortal men. Strife, Hatred, War, Plague and tearful Grief attend them. Nor is there any other [God]. And he sees all with ease. The purpose of the Praeperatio Evanqelica in which the longer version of the Palinode occurs was, as its title implies, to Show that the wisest and most ancient of the pagan and Jewish authors had anticipated monotheism and the coming of Christ. It is not unlikely that Eusebius, conscious of the redemptive significance of the New Law performed certain editorial emendations in his efforts to Show its precedents in the works of Plato, Orpheus, and others. The context of this passage seems more readily to fit the description of a wrathful Hebraic god-~the god described in Justin's version and 97 in the Proem to the Sibylline books.lo Since Eusebius claims that he read the Palinode in the works of Aris- tobulus, known to be a Jewish controversial writer, it is unlikely that his original would have described any other than the Old Testament deity. There is, moreover, a sharp break in the flow of both texts of the Palinode at this point, the next sentence having nological con- nection with God's authorship of evil. It seems clear that there was some mutilation of the original text, perhaps the excision of qualifying phrases by an un- known intermediate editor.‘ This one instance of modification undergone by pagan prophetic literature at the hands of Chris— tian writers could be multiplied many times, both in the literature and in the art of Christian antiquity. It serves to illustrate one current of late antique thought and to render more predictable the sea-changes l . - O“This thought, that God 18 the author of all things, including natural evils and the effects of hu- man passions, is required by the context, and it seems prObable that Eusebius tried to alter it." E. H. Gif- ford ed. and tr. Praeperatio Evangelica (Oxford, 1903), IV, p. 446. There are a number of interesting passages Which suggest the Palinode's dependence on the BoOk of Isaiah, particularly with resPect to a wrathful deity. See 5:25; 6:1; 11:15; 40:21-2 and 66:1. 98 it wrought upon such figures of classical myth and pagan history as Orpheus. Qgpheu§7Compared with Christ Amphion of Thebes and Arion of Methymna were both minstrels, and both were renowned in story. They are celebrated in song to this day in the chorus of the Greeks; the one for having allured the fishes, and the other for having surrounded Thebes with walls by the power of music. Another, a Thracian, a cunning master of his art (he also is the subject of a Hellenic legend), tamed the wild beasts by the mere might of song: and tranSplanted trees--oaks--by music How, let me ask, have you believed vain fables, and supposed animals to be charmed by music; while Truth's shining face alone, as would seem, appears to you disguised, and is looked on with incredulous eyes? And so Cithaeron, and Helicon, and the mountains of the Odrysi, and the initiatory rites of the Thracians, mysteries of deceit, are hallowed and celebrated in hymns. For me, I am pained at such calamities . . . But the dramas and the raving poets, now quite intoxicated, let us crown with ivy: and distracted outright as they are, in Bac— chic fashion, with the satyrs, and the fren- zied rabble, and the rest of the demon crew, let us confine to Cithaeron and Helicon, now antiquated. But let us bring from above out of heaven, Truth, with Wisdom in all its brightness, and the sacred prophetic choir, down to the holy amount of God; . . . . And raising their eyes, and looking above, let them abandon Helicon and Cithaeron, and take up their abode in 99 Sion . . . . What my Eunomos Sings is not the measure of Terpander, nor that of Cap- ito, nor the Phrygian, nor Lydian, nor Dor- ian, but the immortal measure of the new harmony which bears God's name—-the new, the Levitical song. 'Soother of pain, calmer of wrath, producing forgetfulness of all ills." Sweet and true is the charm of persua- sion which blends with this strain. To me, therefore, that Thracian Orpheus, that Theban, and that Methymnaean,--men, and yet unworthy of the name,--seem to have been deceivers, who, under the pretence of poetry corrupting human life, possessed by a spirit of artful sorcery for purposes of destruction, celebrating crimes in their orgies, and making human woes the materials of religions worship, were the first to entice men to idols; . . . . But not such is my song, which has come to loose, and that Speedily, the bitter bondage of tyrannizing demons; and leading us back to the mild and loving yoke of piety, recalls to heaven those that had been cast prostrate to the earth. It alone has tamed men, the most intractable of animals; the frivolous among them answering to the fowls of the air, deceivers to reptiles, the irascible to lions, the voluptuous to swine, the rapacious to wolves. The silly are stocks and stones, and still more senseless than stones is a man who is steeped in ignorance . . . . Behold the might of the new song: It has made men out of stones, men out of beasts. Those, moreover, that were as dead, not being partakers of the true life, have come to life again, simply by becoming listeners to this song. It also composed the universe into melodious order, and tuned the discord of .the elements to harmonious arrangement, so ,0 100 that the whole world might become har- mony. It let loose the fluid ocean, and yet has prevented it from encroaching on the land. The earth, again, which had been in a state of commotion, it has es- tablished, and fixed the sea as its bound: ary. The violence of fire it has softened by the atmosphere, as the Dorian is blended with the Lydian strain; and the harsh cold of the air it has moderated by the embrace of fire, harmoniously arranging these the extreme tones of the universe. And this deathless strain,--the support of the whole and the harmony of all,--reaching from the centre to the circumference, and from the extremities to the central part, has harmonized this universal frame of things, not according to the Thracian music, which is like that invented by Jubal, but according to the paternal counsel of God, which fired the zeal of David. (Protr., I, ANF, pp. l7-20) 'This remarkable passage, which Opens Clement's Exhortation to the Greekg, contains in embryo so many subsequent developments of the Orpheus myth, not only in Christian antiquity but down through the Middle Ages and even as late as Pope's "Ode for Music on St. Ce~ cilia's Day," that its importance cannot be overstated. It is the starting place for allegorical interpreta— tions of the Orpheus story by Christian writers, in particular those interpretations which compare Orpheus with Christ and David. In addition it connects the idea of the harmony of the Spheres and the harmony of 101 the elements with the story of Orpheus--not, it is true, crediting Orpheus with having brought them about --that was to come later--but juxtaposing them in such a way that later writers might see a further connection and elaborate upon it. Clement opens his Exhortation as a good preacher might, with an exemplum, to catch the attention of his audience. He tells of certain mythological persons who were thought to have performed wonders by their music. Once he has interested his audience, and in the process shown that he is familiar with their learn- ing, he asks how they can believe that long ago a man could make the oaks follow his lyre and not recognize an even greater wonder before them at this time. Ra- ther than look at "Truth's shining face” the Greeks prefer the polytheism of the mysteries. He concludes the exemplum by showing the Greeks that the followers of Dionysus, who think that they are inspired in their orgies by the gods, are really in the grip of frenzy, whidh has nothing to do with the true deity. So far Clement has been telling Greek legend under the aegis of the Muses; now he must tell of the Truth, and for this he invokes—-with echoes of Homeric 102 appeals for divine guidance—-Truth, Wisdom and the pro— phets, praying that they descend to God's holy mountain and inspire him and all men. The contrast of divine in- spiration with Bacchic frenzy sets the direction of his subsequent discussion of Orpheus. He shows the superi- ority of the New Song and its prophets by contrasting it in a number of ways with pagan religion and its pro? phet, Orpheus. Orpheus was associated with three mountains—- "Cithaeron, Helicon and the mountains of the Ddrysi." He was the son of Calliope, a Muse on Mount Helicon; he sang the hymns and codified the theology of the god Dionysus on Cithaeron; and he tamed savage beasts and men in the mountains of Thracian Odrysia. Clement is concerned that the Greeks should have hallowed and celebrated these mountains and all that they stand for, while they lodk at ”Truth's shining face . . . with in- credulous eyes." His personified Truth provides a con- trast to the Greeks' error on several levels. First, it is immediate and vivid ascpposed to the Hellenistic myths he speaks of which are based upon events far dis— tant in time, if not entirely fabulous. Then, "Truth's shining face" has scriptural overtones which connect it 103 with another mountain and another prOphet. One is re— minded here of the account in the Book of Exodus of Moses' receiving the Law from God on Mount Sinai. God appeared to him in a thick cloud so as to be concealed from the other Israelites, descending to Sinai "in fire" (19:18). After Moses had come down from the mountain "he wist not that the skin of his face shone while he talked with him" (34:29), and "when . . . the children of Israel saw Moses, behold, the skin of his face shone and they were afraid to come nigh him" (34:30). Clement entreats the Greeks to abandon their sacred mountains and "raving poets," now antiquated, for the holy moun- tain of God where they shall hear the new song of Truth. Orpheus was known in antiquity as an eloquent persuader. According to Clement, his song persuaded men to worship idols and to tie themselves to temporal things. But the Orphic song, in which the infant Dion- ysus is murdered and eaten by the Titans (Guthrie, p. 21), contrastssharply with the New Song, which brings peace to men, frees them of the bonds of the flesh and leads them into the ”mild and loving yoke” of piety. Clement seems unduly harsh here in his condemnation of Orpheus. Wishing, perhaps, to emphasize the 104 redemptive and peaceful sides of Christianity to the Greeks, he has portrayed Orpheus as an exponent of a violent religion whose song, like that of the Sirens, maliciously lures men to destruction. Orpheus made inanimate objects and irrational animals act against their nature, Clement feels, by sorcery. But the New Song has quelled the irrational in man and freed him to act according to his higher nature, thereby metaphorically making men out of beasts. ”It alone has tamed men, the most intractable of animals; the frivolous among them answering to the fowls of the air, deceivers to reptiles, the irascible to lions, the voluptuous to swine, the rapacious to wolves.” In turn- ing the Orpheus legend to Christian ends Clement shares the method, if not the aims, of earlier allegorizers of the legend. Horace, Quintillian and others could not believe that Orpheus had really made stones reSpond to music or that he had really tamed savage beasts. Instead, they interpreted the legend to mean that Orpheus was a civilizing force and peacemaker among the savage tribes of Odrysia. 'Whereas these writers abstracted the good qualities of Orpheus from the legend, Clement has ab- stracted the reprehensible ones and attributed the 105 powers of concord to the new song. He is attracted, however, like Horace and Quintillian, not by the lit— eral import of this "vain fable" but by its usefulness as a rhetorical device. In this he differs from the other church Fathers. Tertullian, Arnobius, Lactantius, and Firmicus Maternus were all hostile to the techniques of pagan allegory. Pagan myth was, for them, both lit- erally and figuratively false, and no allegorical eXpo- sition could make it otherwise. Clement, while reject- ing the historical truth of the Orpheus legend, does find it figuratively rewarding. Indeed, he has a high Opinion of the allegorical method. He speaks in the fifth book of the Stromata of various Greek authors who employed it, and concludes that "very useful, then, is the mode of symbolic interpretation for many pur- poses; and it is helpful to the right theology, and to piety, and to the diSplay of the intelligence, and the practice of brevity, and the exhibition of wisdom"11 (v, 8, ANF, pp. 247-248) . As Clement leaves the discussion of Orpheus to go on to other matters he adds, almost in passing, llJean Pépin, Mythe et Allegorie (Paris, 1958), p. 266. 106 one of the most significant features the Orpheus ma- terial has yet acquired, the similarity-~or in this case dissimilarity--of Orpheus to the prophet David, ‘and the less frequently seen association with Jubal. The New Song has harmonized the universe "not accord- ing to the Thracian muSic, which is like that invented by Jubal, but according to the paternal counsel of God, which fired the zeal of David." David needs no intro- duction. Jubal,12 a less well known figure at this time, appears in the book Of Genesis (4:21 ff.), where we learn that Tubal Cain, the father of those who work in iron, had a half-brother Jubal who invented the harp and organ. In the Middle Ages these half—brothers were to become the subject matter for miniatures which pic- tured Tubal working iron on his anvil as Jubal stands by. Jubal was supposed to have conceived the idea of the drums and the stringed instruments from the rhyth-i mic tapping of his half-brother's hammer and the Spaced tones of the vibrating iron, while Tubal's bellows gave rise to the organ. The music of Orpheus and the music 12See Paul E. Beichner, C.S.C. The Medieval Representations of Music: Jubal or Tubal Cain (Notre Dame,Ind., 1954). 107 Jubal were both man-made and without divine inspira- tion, Whereas David was traditionally seen as a reed through whom the divine music was sounded. That Clement seems more interested in compar- ing these-figures with the attributes of Christ than with Christ himself is in keeping with the traditions of the apologist's time. One of the charges against the Christians was that they worshipped a man, not a god, a man who was of humble origins, was ill-educated, and had died in a fashion reserved for criminals. It may have been because of such charges that the Chris- tians tended in the 2nd and 3rd centuries to represent Christ by symbols--the Good Shepherd, the anchor, the peacock, fish, or grapes. Actual portraits are few in early Christian art, and the early Christian Fathers tend to discuss the divine side of Christ's nature in preference to the human. Clement, in placing Orpheus together with Christ and David, with whatever qualifications, gave very con- siderable dignity to the Orpheus story. Indeed, it can be said that all subsequent literary treatments of this story in Christian antiquity build upon the foundations Clement provided. 108 One such writer influenced by Clement's treat- ment of Orpheus was the apologist and Church historian Eusebius. In the Praeperatio Evangelica Eusebius had compiled his tale of Orpheus from other men's words, but in the Praise of Constantine he speaks in his own voice: The Grecian myth tells us that Orpheus had power to charm ferocious beasts, and tame their savage spirits, by striking the chords of his instrument with a master-hand: and this story is celebrated by the Greeks, and generally believed, that an unconscious in- strument could subdue the untamed brute, and draw the trees from their places, in obedi- ence to its melodious power. But he who is the author of perfect harmony, the all-wise Word of God, desiring to apply every remedy to the manifold diseases of the souls of men, employed that human nature which is the workmanship of his own wisdom, aszn in- strument by the melodious strains of which he soothed not indeed the brute creation, but savages endued with reason; healing each furious temper, each fierce and angry passion of the soul, both in civilized and barbarous nations by the remedial power of his Divine doctrine (15, ENE, p. 603). Eusebius' handling of the legend seems a direct echo of Clement, with the same disapproval (Here implied rather than explicit) of the Greeks' credulity and the same inability to believe in the historicity of Orpheus' powers. Eusebius, however, does not excoriate Orpheus but merely tries to demonstrate a vast difference in 109 extent between his supposed powers and the actual powers of the Word of God. He also is following Clement in his description of Christ's human nature as an instrument of Divine music, for, in the Exhortation to the Greeks, Clem- ent had written: And He who is of David, and yet before him, the'Word of God, despising the lyre and harp, which are but lifeless instruments, and having tuned by the Holy Spirit the universe, and especially man,--who, com- posed of body and soul, is a universe in miniature,--makes melody to God on this in- strument of many tones; and to this instru- ment--I mean man--he sings accordant: "For thou art my harp, and pipe, and temple,"-- a harp for harmony--a pipe by reason of the Spirit--a temple by reason of the word; so that the first may sound, the second breathe, the third contain the Lord. (Protr. I, ANF, pp. 20-21) Even in his music Orpheus appealed to the senses, but Christ appealed to men's souls. The passages above are the main sources for the idea in the early Fathers that the pagan legend of Orpheus in some way prefigures the story of Christ's ministry, and that just as the coming of Christ re- places the Old Law, so the coming of Christ the New Orpheus replaces the Old Orpheus of Helicon and Cith- aeron. In addition to general treatments of the legend such as the above, Christian writers of this period 110 concentrated on two particular features of the Orpheus story, his alleged eloquence and his descent to the underworld. Often these writers describe Christ in opposition to Orpheus without actually naming Orpheus himself, and thus certain features of the legend are silently transferred to the story of Christ's ministry and deeds. St. Ephraim of Syria (b. 306 A.D.) wrote a collection of beautiful poems called the Nisibene hymns, one of which, apparently based on the Apoc- ryphal Gospel of Nicodemus,is a dialogue between Death and Satan concerning the power of Christ and the har- rowing of Hell. Death speaks of himself as a great conqueror, ". . . as for wise that are able to charm wild beasts, their charms enter not into my ears," apparently alluding to the fact that Orpheus was un- able successfully to liberate his wife from Hades. "Death ended his Speech of derision: and the voice of our Lord sounded into Hell, and He cried aloud and burst the graves one by one. Tremblings took hold on Death . . . the dead came forth" (5-11, ENE, pp. l96-7). The remarkable longevity of this idea, that Christ succeeded in the underworld where Orpheus failed, 111 can be seen as late as the 17th century in the work of Alexander Ross. Ross is fully conscious of the dangers to orthodoxy which may reSult from confusing Orpheus with Christ. He points out that, despite the apparent . . . . . . ,13 Similarities, only Christ is the "True Orpheus' and develops this point of view from an allegorical inter- pretation of the Orpheus legend itself: It was he [Christ] onley who went down to hell to recover the church his spouse who had lost herself, by running away from Aris- teas, even goodness itselfe; and delighting her selfe among the grasse and floweres of pleasure, was stung by that old serpent the Devil. What was in vain attempted by Orpheus, was truely performed by our Saviour, for he alone hath delivered our soules from the neth- ermost hell. (Mystaqogg§ Poeticus, 1653, pp. 388-9) By the 5th century A.D. treatments of the Orpheus material by Clement, Eusebius, and Ephraim, among others, had.made the story sufficiently.familiar and useful to Christian writers to allow metaphoric comparison between Christ and Orpheus to become relatively common. In an 13For a Medieval intermediary in the transmission of this idea, see the Easter hymn "Morte Christi Cele- brata," a few verses of which deal with the way in which Christ Saved the Church from the underworld and so became "our" that is, the Christian, Orpheus: "Sponsam suam ab inferno/,Regno locans in superno/ Noster traxit Orpheus" (Anal. Hymn. VIII, 30). In; ..-.4 112 epigram on David, often attributed to the 5th-century Pope Damasus, but more probably by Hieronymus Presbyter, the poet asks, ”who can hesitate to believe [that] the power of Christ rules all things, which united the var- ious tongues under one song that the animals and birds could know God?" (Epigrammata Damagigna, ed. A. Ferrua, Rome, 1942, p. 228). This question seems to draw upon at least three sources--the prophecy of Isaiah regarding the coming of a Messiah under whose reign "the wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leOpard shall lie down with the kid" (11:16); the legend of Orpheus' enchantment of the animals, which gave them, for a moment, reason; and Clement's discussion of the Logos as,a harmonizing force among men, bringing the different nations tOgether in peace. But in the Damasian epigram, all of these no— tions are compressed in a metaphor, and Christ is simply endowed with the powers and attributes of Orpheus. The power of sacred eloquence was often asSoci— ated with the eloquence of Orpheus in the work of the Fathers, though more as a convenient metaphor than as an extended comparison. For example, Gregory writes, "Strife subdues but gentleness restores a man, soften— ing him by gentle and blandishing words, however wild ...u ... 504‘ ..- ‘v (I. .113 he may be, even as the strength of the fire softens iron. The lyre of Orpheus, which was his eloquence, I think,by the sweetness of his song, attracted all, good and bad alike" (Carmen LXII, g§_37, 1535). Perhaps the last writer to mention Orpheus who may properly be called antique was Proc0pius (b. 465 A.D.), and it is fitting to end our discussiOn of Orpheus in Christian antiquity with him. This writer wished to Show how the ancient prOphets, theOlogians and philoso- phers were never able to convince their audiences as effectively as the eloquent evangelist Mark. When the pagans spoke, they spoke in the words of men, but when Mark spoke, it was with the words of God. ”Orpheus having' calmed wild creatures by the sweetness of his words did not persuade his fellow Thracians.” Proc0pius adds that such pagans as Pythagoras, Democritus, and Orpheus, with their cryptic theories, vain wisdom and idle tales, could not convince their audience that the words they spOke were true, whereas Mark, imbued with the holy spirit, could and did (Encom. in Marc. 5, ye 100, 1192). By the 5th century Christian writers were making use of an Orpheus who no longer represented a threat to Christianity and indeed may have had almost no associations \J . .- ...... ov- g-n- us- - 'A—‘v- P! .w,.‘.. v . .,3. V ......) I‘V‘Z“ r Us..‘--\ A:—: . 5n.-. (1 an n..',. " :‘H 114 with the mystery cults prevalent in the East under Graeco- Roman civilization. It was not his religious associations, then, which interested the later Fathers so much as a com— bination of the universal and timeless appeal of his legend and the utility of that legend as a trOpe. This trOpe be- came a part of the Christian rhetorical arsenal and, in large part, accounts for the frequent references to Orpheus by subsequent Christian writers. CHAPTER TWO ORPHEUS IN ANTIQUE ART The large number of art works representing Orpheus which have survived from late antiquity Speak for the pOpularity which his legend must have enjoyed with artisans and their patrons during the decline of the Empire and the rise of the Christian Church. Be- tween the 2nd and the 6th centuries A.D. Orpheus appears in almost every form of Imperial art--in funerary sculp— ture throughout the Empire, in East Christian ivory cas- kets or pyxides, in brilliantly colored mosaics adorning the floors of houses, baths, and funeral chapels, in Coptic textiles, in Samian ware, in Roman catacomb and Jewish synagogue frescoes, and in a curious Graeco— Egyptian magical amulet. During this period, while the main features of the legend remain the same, the interests and common- places of the age are revealed in several features of Ckpheus' iconography. Because the themes and motifs most popular in Orpheus scenes group themselves in 115 l‘ l" vi 116 large measure according to media, I have chosen to consider them by media in this chapter and will dis- cuss them as follows: (1) In the medium of mosaic, the 55 ex- tant examples all depict Orpheus with the ani- mals he is supposed to have charmed. In these scenes his position and his relation to the animals show the influence of regional tastes as well as of the official art which began to develop under the reign of Constantine. (2) The influence of the mosaics is strongly evident in another medium of antique art, that of ivory carving. Here we find depicted the same scenes of Orpheus with the animals, but he assumes more of the nature of a shepherd or herder, becoming a more pastoral figure than he was in classical antiquity. (3) A category of one--the medium of in- taglio--contains the only example known to me of Orpheus on a Graeco-Egyptian magical amulet. This gem shows a crucified man with seven stars and a crescent above his head; below him is the inscrip- tion: "Orpheus Bacchus." 117 (4) In the medium of funerary sculpture a different association appears to have been important to the commissioners of Orpheus scenes. This was Orpheus' connection with Christ the Good Shepherd and Mithras the bull- slayer. In this medium the sheep, of all the animals with which Orpheus is shown, becomes the most important. (5) The theme of the Good Shepherd receives more extensive treatment in catacomb frescoes where Orpheus with his Sheep becomes Christ the Good Shepherd bearing the lost sheep of the soul to the heavens. Mosaic Hellenic and Hellenistic art had often portrayed Orpheus in the underworld or emerging from it with his wife, but all the extant Imperial mosaics I am familiar with Show him charming the animals in the upper world. Various explanations have been offered for this shift in emphasis from one aspect of the legend to the other. Doro.Levi has argued that "in the great majority of [late antique] monuments the myth is a mere pretext 118 for the generic representations of animal types" (Anti— och Mogaic Pavements, I, 362). This view is open to some question. The commissioners of mosaics who had wanted "generic representations of animal types" on the floors of their houses could and did have them. They did not have to have Orpheus too. His presence with the animals suggests that the legend had some sig- nificance for them which animals alone did not have. But Levi is surely correct in assuming that peOple were becoming increasingly fond of animal representations about the time that Orpheus mosaics became popular. Mosaics of gladiatorial, hunting, fishing, and pastoral animal scenes were common throughout the Empire by the end of the 2nd Century A.D.l The Roman colonies of Asia Minor and Africa were the source of descriptions and pictures of a num- ber of wild animals as well as of the animals themselves which were imported to Italy and to the western provinces to be used as exotic housepets and, more notably, as pOpular attractions at the public games and Spectacula. Since only the wealthy could have owned and maintained 1Henri Stern, "Mosaique d'Orphée," Gallia, XIII (1955), 64-65, discusses the interest in hunting scenes. 119 as pets such animals as the lion, tiger, and ocelot, it is not improbable that these and other such animals might have taken on an aura of the fashionable life, and this association may eXplain the presence of exotic animals in mosaics of middle-class homes in provinces where they would never be known naturally. Scenes of Orpheus in Hellenic times had shown him with deer, birds, and an occasional panther or lynx--animals sacred to Dionysus.2 But the Orpheus mosaics of the 2nd and later centuries A.D., even in Italy, Gaul, and Britain, show him surrounded by lions, tigers, apes, rhinoceri and elephants, as well as African and Asian birds such as the ostrich (Figs. 1, 2, 3). Another explanation for the presence of the same animals in mosaics in widely separated parts of the Empire is that offered by Henri Stern and J. M. C. 3 . . . Toynbee. They hold that the artisans in mosaic, as 2A 6th century B. C. Boetian cup shows a bearded Orpheus surrounded by five birds and a doe. It was pub- lished by O. Kern, Athenigche Abteilunq LXIII, LXIV (1938-39). He is accompanied by a doe, a panther and birds on a Greek mirror of the 5th century B.C. See W. Eroehner, La Collection Tysziewicz (Munich, 1892), pl. 4. 3Stern, p. 50; J. M. C.‘Toynbee, Art in Roman Britain (London, 1963), p. 14. 120 in other arts, used pattern books. While marked Simi- larities between certain pavements certainly suggest the employment of pattern books, none to my knowledge has survived. ‘We might eXpect, however, that if such -recorded designs existed, aS'I think they did, the manner in which they were passed on would bear some resemblance to the way in which present-day fashions travel outward from the House of Dior to the Sears and Roebucks of many small and distant communities. Just as the styles of women's clothing set in Paris, Madrid, and New York may be seen in smaller cities for several years after they have ceased to be fashionable in the capitals, so Roman mosaic patterns may have enjoyed a long life in the province by means of such pattern books. The Orpheus mosaics from the 2nd to the 6th cen— turies tend to divide themselves into two main styles, eastern and western,4 which becomes more distinct in the late Empire, when western mosaics grow increasingly decorative and formal. In the eastern Mediterranean regions-—roughly Speaking, from Greece down through Asia Minor to Egypt--narrative art had enjoyed continuous __ 4 p. 67 ff. M. Chéhab, W (Paris, 1957), 121 popularity from the time of the earliest civilizations. The narrative tradition continued unabated throughout the years of Roman ascendancy, and this generalization holds true for the Orpheus mosaics as well. In the eastern parts of the Empire Orpheus is usually pictured in the center of the composition, the animals grouped around_him or arranged in registers; rarely are there separating decorative elements. Two examples of this style are mosaics from Ptolemais and from a funeral chapel in Edessa (Figs. 4, 5).5 In both we see Orpheus with the animals at his knees, quite evidently charmed by his song. The latest of all extant Orpheus pave- ments is One from a funeral chapel in Jerusalem (Fig. 6), northwest of the Damascus Gate. It has been dated in the 6th century A.D.6 This piece is perhaps the The pavement from Edessa, now Turkish Urfa, was first published by J. B. Segal, "New Mosaics from Edessa,“ Archeology XII (1959)- 7 6See H. Vincent, "Une Mosaique Byzantine a Jerusalem," Revue Bibligue X (1901), P. Bagatti, "Il Musaico dell' Orfeo a Gerusalemme," Rivista d'Arche— ologia Christiana XXVIII (1954), 159, and M. Avi-Yonah, "Mosaic Pavements in Palestine," anrterly of the De- partment ochntiogitieggin Palegtine II (1932). Avi_ Yonah supports Vincent's date because the costume worn by the women in the lowest register of the mosaic appears in the 6th century. 122 most narrative of all the mosaics. Here Orpheus charms the animals while Pan holds his syrinx, pointing to the effects of rational stringed music on the passions of an- ger and lust, symbolized by a lazing centaur beside him.7 In the western part of the Empire, on the other hand, only the earlier mosaics reflect the narrative em- phasis of Hellenic art; these mosaics seem eSpecially derivative of the early fresco style of southern Italy which we associate with the wall paintings of Pompei and Herculanum (See Fig. 7). By the 3rd century A. D. provincial artisans, finding their models from the cap- ital increasingly alien and--one suspects—-difficult to execute, began to abandon large, narrative composi— tions for Simpler, compartmented designs which could be done one section at a time. Late Orpheus mosaics from Gaul and Britain place Orpheus and the animals in quite separate geometrical compartments--square, rectangular, quatrefoil, circular. Most of the 7This creature was traditionally a figure for the appetitive faculties. Cornelius a Lapide, Commen- pggia in Jeremiam (Leyden, 1622), p. 26 quotes Saint Basil to this effect: "Men are created like centaurs, as they were made rational men in the upper parts, and in their lower parts made like lustful and burning horses." The statement is given at greater length in the Anthologia of Stobaeus. 123 British mosaics known to us are circular-—for example, the Woodchester and Barton Villa mosaics (Figs. 8, 9). A mosaic from the Casa Consula in Split is a variation upon this circular pattern (Fig. 10). In a pavement from the Forét de Brotonne at Rouen (Fig. 11) Orpheus is in a circular medallion while the animals are in squares, as are the four seasons in the corners com- peting with the animals for compositional interest. A somewhat Similar mosaic from St. Romain-en-Galle (Fig. 12) uses an eight—Sided figure for the compart- ments. Owing to the nature of the separating elements in such western mosaics the animals, no longer in herds, go about on their own business and as their relation to Orpheus is less apparent, some of the pastoral flavor of the scene is lost. Another way of classifying Orpheus mosaics is according to the manner of his dress. Henri Stern has noted two types: those in which Orpheus wears Greek garb and those in which he wears Phrygian. The Greek Orpheus is naked or dressed in a chiton and mantle, bareheaded or crowned with laurel, while the Phrygian type wears the Phrygian bonnet, a tunic with long sleeves, Persian Slippers and often a long mantle gathered over 124 the left shoulder. The Greek appears to be the older version, going back to the 7th century B.C., and is rarely fOund in Imperial art. The Phrygian type is the most common in mosaics and ultimately becomes the model for Orpheus in Christian art. An early example of it occurs on a vase of the 4th century B.C. where Orpheus is shown in Phrygian dress charming women and animals. Apparently, Stern notes, the Phrygian type was common by the time of Pausanias, for, in describ- ing a painting of the underworld by Polygnotus, he seems surprised that Orpheus is portrayed in Greek garb without the Phrygian bonnet: "Turning our gaze again to the lowerpart of the picture we see . . . [that] the appearance of Orpheus is Greek, and neither his garb nor his headgear is Thracian" (X. 9).8 8It will be noted that Pausanias' description resembles in certain particulars those in the ekphras- gig of Philostratus and Callistratus. Stern feels that the descriptions of these writers make no contri- butions to Orpheus iconography since they wrote in the 3rd century A.D. or later, but that there may have been a statue of Orpheus somewhere in Philippolis, Thrace, his putative home, which established the mosaic con- ventions (p. 59). Such a statue has not as yet been found. 125 A more Significant distinction among the Or- pheus mosaics would seem to be that which can be made cfi’the various positions in which Orpheus is Shown. In classical antiquity Orpheus was usually represented in underworld scenes as standing, and in scenes where he tames the animals, as sitting. Philostratus writes of a seated Orpheus: ". . . his left foot resting on the ground supports the lyre which rests on his thigh, his right foot marks the time by beating on the ground with its sandal" (Imgg, 6). Although Philostratus is here describing a Pompeian wall painting (Fig. 7),9 the position, with certain variations, is a traditional one in the early Orpheus mosaics. Most of these Show Orpheus seated on a rock, with his lyre supported on the left thigh, the left foot flat on the ground and the right leg slightly bent, occasionally outstretched as in the mosaics from Oudna and Newton—St.—Loelo (Figs. 13, 14). A few mosaics, perhaps develOping from the Pompei fresco, Show a reversal of this position, with the lyre on the right thigh. 9See RosCher, Lexicon, III, 1178. 10 . . - On the question of the latter S relation to other pavements in Roman Britain, see G. R. Stanton, "The Newton-St.-Loe Pavement,” JRS XXVI (1936), 44 ff. 126 This basic position, with its minor variations, ' is most likely an attempt to make Orpheus look more lifelike,.and to avoid having him Sit on the rock, legs dangling, like Humpty—Dumpty on the wall, as is suggested by the awkward positioning in a mosaic from Rottweil (Fig. 15). These early pavements all share, in one way or another, a pose whidh may be called the asymmetrical position. ,Towards the end of the 4th century A.D. Orpheus appears in a new, frontal pose in mosaic pavements. While we may assume that by this time artisans in mo- saic no longer had so great a technical knowledge or ability as their predecessors in rendering three-dimen— sional, anatomically complex scenes, certain features of the new poSe point to a stylistic influence more significant than a mere decline in Skill. In order best to examine this frontal develOp— ment of the later mosaics, we might consider first a mosaic from Blanzy—les-Fimes (Fig. l), which Stern feels is not Gaulish in style but rather Italian or North— african. He dates it, because of the clumsiness of execution, in the 4th century A.D._ Perhaps the.most striking feature of this pavement is the fact that the 127 lyre has been shifted from its traditional place on Orpheus' thigh and now rests on a small stand. The entire composition is more formal and symmetrical than any we have examined before. The lyre and its base are almost equal in Size to Orpheus and his seat. He is framed by two trees whose branches turn inward to form an arbor for him, in a style which is character- istic of the late Orpheus statuary of the eastern pro- vinces. Three animals are arranged in registers on each Side of the trees. The entire composition is based on doublets--two central figures, two trees, two animal groups, two pairs of birds. It Should be noted, moreover, that Orpheus faces front and that he is not so much engaged in playing his lyre, in the Hel- lenic tradition of natural movement, as he is engaged in displaying it and himself. His legs are awkwardly foreshortened and, while not forming a perfect diamond Shape, they are symmetrically arranged. We can see somewhat the same symmetry in a mo- saic from the Isle of Wight (Fig- 16) WhiCh J. M. C. Toynbee dates in the 4th century on the basis of arti- facts found at the Site (p. 14). The positioning of the legs, the diSplaced lyre and the parallel sets of 128 animals in this mosaic are remarkably like those at Blanzy. But both of these mosaics are in turn strongly suggestive of a common model which, if established, would date them on stylistic grounds as well, as cre- ated either during or after the reign of Constantine. We will recall that in Constantine's time de- pictions of the emperor and various consuls in a fron- tal pose began to replace the earlier profile and three- quarter Imperial portraits. André Grabar, in L'Empereur danS L'Art_Byzantine (Paris, 1936), observes that the image of the emperor throned in majesty was common on early Roman coins, but that he was usually represented in profile and in the midst of the composition. In the reign of Constantine, the throned emperor became frontal and was placed in the center of a symmetrical composition, though raised above his subjects (PP. 24, 197). In diptych portraits of this period the emperor or regional consul is portrayed in the same flat style from the front, often with right hand raised as a Sign of power, sometimes holding a scepter or volumen. Thus, in a consular diptych of the early 6th century A.D. (Fig. 17), the consul Anastasius is seated on a throne in a symmetrical niche or aedicula, holding a scepter 129 in the left hand. His legs are foreshortened, and the interest is focused on his torso and head, Which is nimbed. Above him are symmetrically balanced portraits and pairs of winged children; beneath his throne are parallel human and animal groups. This officially sanctioned style was rapidly assimilated into Christian art, with Christ, the "all— ruler" (pantOkrator or pambasileus), assuming the Im- perial pose, his raised right hand holding the orb and cross.11 The two Orpheus mosaics mentioned earlier may profitably be compared to such works of East Christian art. In the Same resPect we may recall the pavement from Ptolemais (Fig. 4) which Harrison would date in the late 4th or early 5th century A.D. He speaks of 1According to the Liber Pontificalis, ed. Du- chesne, I, 172, Constantine ordered a piece of goldwork to be made in this style. For patristic discussions of Imperial rt, and attitudes toward thePTXI/VZA* x’7ficz9 ,fiflxcr'/ cit/II” theme, see pseudo-C rysostom, gg 59, 650; Eusebius, Pan. Const. passim; and John Dam- ascene, pg 94, 1380. Prudentius gives a concise state— ment: "0 Christ, the one name, the glory and strength of the Father, creator of earth and Sky and founder of this city, who has set up the sceptre of the world on Rome's high citadel, ordaining that the world obey the toga of Quirinus and yield to his arms, that thou might'st bring under one system of laws the customs and observ- ances, the speech and character and worship of nations .” (Perist. II, 412 ff.). 130 the "balanced symmetry of the composition [which] looks, not back to earlier Roman art, but forward to Byzantine."12 This piece features the frontal pose, symmetrical leg and foot placement, parallel groups of animals in threes, dis— placed lyre and a nimbus,which I shall consider further on. The pavement of Jerusalem (Fig. 6), made in the 6th century, Shows the develOpment of the style seen in the Ptolemais floor. The lyre has been shifted almost off the thigh SO that Orpheus' position resembles the Imperial pose with raised hand; there are parallel tree and animal groups; the legs are symmetrical; and the folds of the drapery covering them emphasize their "X" configuration, which is in turn developed by the axes which bisect Pan and the centaur at the bottom of the composition. The close relation of late frontal-style Orpheus mosaics to Imperial and Pambasileus iconography becomes clearer when we compare them with a 9th-cen- tury illustration of the second coming, probably modeled on a 4th or 5th century original, from a 2 . 1 R. M. Harrison, “An Orpheus Mosaic at Ptole— mais in Cyrenaica," JRS LII (1962), P- 16, compares the Ptolemais mosaic to a Silver platter of the Em- peror Theodosius the First. 131 codex of Cosmas IndiCOpleustes (Fig. 18). The nimbed Christ holds a book in his left hand, Slightly dis- placed from the left thigh, in the same way that Or— pheus holds his lyre in the Jerusalem pavement. Christ's right hand, fingers extended, points towards the book, just as the right hand of Orpheus touches the lyre strings (and as the right hand with quill in the Ptole- mais mosaic pointed towards the lyre). Christ's maj- esty over the two registers of attentive Spectators arranged in symmetrical groups can profitably be com- pared to Orpheus' power over the two registers of at- tentive animals in a 4th-century mosaic, with displaced lyre, from Saragossa (Fig. 19). In the Jerusalem mosaic, Orpheus is placed above the figures in the lower regis- ters, as is the Pambasileus in the Cosmas codex, and both persons look fixedly out at the Spectator, quite oblivious of the other members of the composition. The eagle. Finally, one more feature of Roman Orpheus mosaic seems to call for comment. A number of mosaics, both early and late, as well as many represen- tations of Orpheus in other media, Show, closely asso- ciated with him, an eagle. All of the mosaics contain various birds, some of which might be eagles, but those 132 in Which the bird is clearly an eagle are found at: the Piazza Amerina (Fig. 3), Cherchell (Fig. 20), Cos (Fig. 21), Leptis Magnis (Fig. 22), Perugia (Fig. 2), Jerusalem (Fig. 6), and Saragossa (Fig. 19). The Pom- pei fresco (Fig. 7) which may have served as a source for some of the Orpheus mosaics, Shows an eagle with wings outstretched in what appears to be a nest above the musician, while an eagle perches on the shoulder of Orpheus in the synagogue fresco at Dura—EurOpos (Fig. 23). Philostratus felt that the eagle, a bird of God, was somehow intimately related to Orpheus. "And pray do not fail to note carefully . . . the eagle of Zeus. The eagle poised aloft on both his wings gazes intently at Orpheus and pays no heed to the hare near- by" (Imgg, 6). ‘What was the significance of this bird, which made him so pOpular in Orpheus scenes? First, the eagle and other birds were often associated with wise men in majesty, and it will be remembered that, among other things, Orpheus was con- sidered a sage in antiquity. In the magical amulet representing Solomon, an eagle or a hOOpoe brings him 133 information13(Fig. 24). In an 11th century psalter we see David the harper in the pose of the pantOkrator, with divine inspiration entering him in the guise of a bird (Fig. 25). Since Orpheus the sage and divinely inspired musician is certainly in the tradition of Sol- omon and David, it would not do for birds to be absent from his representations. But more important, for the consideration of the Roman mosaics, was the eagle's association with death. (We know that in the ancient East and in Roman and Christian funeral art the eagle was charged with the task of bearing the soul to the heavens. Franz Cumont mentions a stele found in Rome and now in the COpenhagen museum on which is shown a young man in a toga seated on an eagle which is rising into the Sky while a winged, torch-bearing child (Phosphor) illu- minates the way for the pair.14 There was artistic precedent for Orpheus and the eagle in mosaic, accord- ing to Martial, who observed that on the ascent up the 13See Giacomo Manganaro, "Nuovi Documenti Ma- gici della Sicilia Orientale," Atti della Accademia Nazionale Dei Lincei XVIII (1963) tav. II, 1. e l4Etudes Syriennes (Paris, 1917)! P' 87' Fig. 39' 134 Esquiline from the Suburra was the Lacus Orphei, one of the reservoirs of Rome, where there was a statue of Orpheus surrounded by the animals. "There you will notice Orpheus Spray-sprinkled, crowning his drenched audience, and the wild beasts marvelling at his song, and the Monarch's bird that bore to the Thunderer the ravished Phrygian" (X, xix). The Romans used the eagle as a symbol for the apotheosis of the emperOr, as in the carving on the Arch of Titus (Fig. 26). To dream of an eagle was to dream of death, according to Artemidorus, for eagles were sent aloft at the burning of the emperor's remains (Oniroc. I, 20). Herodian tells us that this custom symbolized the bearing of the ruler's soul from earth to heaven (IV, 2, xi). Dio Cassius, speaking of the funeral of Augustus, said that "an eagle, having been released, seized the soul and bore it to the heavens" (LVI, 42), and in another place, "an eagle flew away and Pertinax became immortal" (LXXIV, 5). From earli— est times the soul was thought of as winged and visu- alized as a bird, as in‘a mummy portrait from Roman Egypt (Fig. 27) where in the lowest register the soul of Artimidorus returns to the body in this form. 135 Synesius used the word. Z77252’IV 0'/f" to describe the soul (pg 66, 1293). The eagle symbolizes the soul of the dead man rising towards the heavens in a sarco- phagus from Sidon (Fig. 28) and in a dome of a 7th cen— tury A.D. Christian tomb at El-Bagawat (Fig. 29). A somewhat less pagan version of the latter example may be found on the dome of the Church of the Redeemer in Athens (Fig. 30).15 In Christian antiquity the eagle often symbol- ized Christ the psychopompos who led the soul to heaven. For example, some 7th century COptic tombstones carved with eagles (Figs. 31, 32) bear the inscriptions CF/fif’ 9 6" ”f KO 7 6) 5V V , "being saved in God. "16 Such 15On the eagle and the soul generally, see Franz Cumont, BER (1910 and 1911). For the eagle in Syrian funeral art, see M. Meudrac and L. Albanese, "A Travers Les Nécropoles Gréco-Romaines de Sidon, "Bull. Mus. de Beyrouth XI (1938), 79-81, and S. Rongevalle, "L'Aigle Funeraire en Syrie," Mélanges de la Faculté Orientale de Beyrouth V (1912), 2. On the tomb at El— —Bagawat, see W. de Bock, Materiauxypour Servir a l' Archeoloqie de 1' Egypte Chretienne (St. Petersburg, 1901). 6For other examples of eagles on stelae with and without crosses, see W. E. Crum, Contic Monumentg (Cairo, 1902), pl. XLII, 8647, 48; LXIII, 8649, 50. J. Kirsch, "L' Aigle sur 1es Monuments Figures de l' Antiquite Chretienne," Bulletin d' Ancienne Literature et d' Archeo- logie Chretiennes (1913), points out that the eagle is more common in East Christian than in West Christian con- texts, but then such is the case in the Orpheus pavements. 136 eagles were also common in COptic textiles and fres- coes. One piece of embroidery (Fig. 33) shows an eagle with a cross in a bglla or medallion around its neck, and we note much the same device in a funeral chapel fresco from the monastery of St. Apollo at Bawit (Fig. 34). Compare these eagles and their crosses with the one that perches next to Orpheus in the funeral chapel pavement from Jerusalem (fig. 6). Thus, while no extant Roman mosaic shows Or- pheus in the underworld, his importance there may not have been so much overlooked as we have been led to believe. The presence of the eagle in many Orpheus pavements, and certainly in those which occur in pagan and Christian funeral chapels, serves as a reminder of his power over death. And, as we Shall see, the con— flation of Orpheus with Christ the psychopompos in Christian funerary sculpture only carries one step further an association already implicit in the Roman mosaics. Christians familiar with the phrase from Psalm C11, 5, ”so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's,” Kirsch also gives a list of monuments, particularly of Gallo-Roman ones, with eagles in various Christian contexts. 137 and the commentaries on it by St. Ambrose (3g 16, 420) and Maximus of Taur (EL_57, 366), where the soul Sheds the plumage of the Old Man and is reborn in heaven by grace, could hardly fail to understand the symbolism of the eagle in the Jerusalem pavement. Moreover, this eagle in conjunction with Orpheus, who by the 6th century A.D. had been established as a type of Christ, would perhaps have reminded such an observer of this gloss by the pseudo-Ambrose: "[By the eagle] we ought to understand Christ our Lord, who after resur— rection worthy of reverence, and which taught mankind to look forward to a life after death, flew back to the Father, just like the eagle” (EL 17, 718). Pyxides A fairly common medium in late antique art was that of ivory carving. The tusk of an elephant was cut in hollow sections--each like a large piece of mac- aroni——which were fitted with lids and bottoms, carved in relief and uSed as caskets for jewelry and other valuables, and later by the Christians as receptacles for sacred objects. Two such small caskets or pyxides 138 Show Orpheus surrounded by animals-~one at Bobbio, the other at the Bargello Museum in Florence (Figs. 35, 36). They were probably made in the 5th or 6th centuries A. D. The most important point of contact between these pyxides and the Orpheus mosaics, and one which bears out 0. M. Dalton's contention that "some of the . . . Syro-Egyptian pyxides and diptychs of the fifth and sixth centuries may copy mosaic originals,"l7 is the presence of the centaur and other mythological, half—human creatures. The centaur is found in conjunc- tion with Orpheus, to my knowledge, only in East Chris— tian art. A Coptic textile (Fig. 37) Similar to the Jerusalem mosaic and to the ivory pyxides suggests that there must have been a common type for this scene in the East. In western Orpheus mosaic, most of the animals, though they may be exotic, are plainly animals. But in the Jerusalem pavement, as in the Bobbio and Bargello caskets, the centaur takes a place at the lower left of the scene. It is interesting to see how the inclusion of the centaur, Pan and other such creatures who had 17B zantine Art and Archaeolo (Oxford, 1916), p. 182. 139 nothing to do with the original Orpheus legend, as well as the great variety of exotic animals around Orpheus, helped to make the legend less fixed in form. About the time of the East Christian pyxides we begin to see a number of animal scenes with figures other than Or- pheus occupying the musician's position in them. An East Christian ivory diptych of Adam naming the animals (Fig. 38) Shows Orpheus' eagle above the other animals, hovering at Adam's shoulder. This bird, as well as the profusion of animals, suggests that the artist may have been locking at a carving of Orpheus when he made the diptych. A relief from-Knole Castle (Fig. 39) Shows a Shepherd Orpheus piping to the animals, and a some- what similar scene occurs in a Coptic textile (Fig. 40). But perhaps the most remarkable adaptation of the Or- pheus type to other material is an oriental manuscript miniature (Fig. 41), probably of the 15th or 16th cen— tury and certainly modeled on a late antique original. It shows Plato charming the animals with his music (the music of the Spheres?), playing the organ rather than the lyre. Moreover, the animals' pleasure at the music--they roll on their backs in delight——is some— what more evident than was usual in Orpheus representations. 140 It should be noted that all of the pieces mentioned here are in a flat, symmetrical style, all foreground and little distance, and that the scenes of Adam and Plato are vertically arranged as though their poses had been COpied from mosaics or pyxides. The Magical Amulet A number of engraved gems, cameos and coins from the Roman period Show Orpheus among the animals. On the whole, all of these pieces are rather tradi— tional and add little to the legend. One, however, shows Orpheus neither in Hades nor among the animals, but on the cross (Figs. 42a, b, c). This piece of hematite, which is in the Berlin Museum, appears to be a magical amulet by which its owner hOped to obtain for his soul an immortal existence among the stars. The piece is inscribed, in the fashion of contemporary magical amulets, in such a way as to be read directly, rather than from an impression: O'P O E O C B A K K I K O C.18 l . . . 8See Campbell Bonner, Studies in Magic Amulets (Ann Arbor, 1950) for this distinction between seals and amulets. 141 Andre Boulanger has rejected the View that the amulet was the property of a member of the Orphic religion who was converted to Christianity,19 on the grounds that the existence of any such religious group has yet to be proven. On the oflier hand, Boulanger's substitution of a Gnostic sect for an Orphic one leads . . , 2 us only to the first turn in the labyrinth. 0 One pos- sible map is that offered by astrology. In the Hellenistic age, astrology and the con— cept of astral fate were very important to the common man. Whereas in the classical period man had enjoyed dealings with Zeus and Athena and Artemis, accessible and placable Greeks of a larger build . . . [now] he was under a universal law . . . we find under the Empire not merely a general rise in the importance of celestial divinities, but also the investing of Attis . . . with a starry cap on the coins of Pes- Sinus and his invocation as "Shepherd of the white stars” in a pOpular poem of the second century A.D.2 It was thought that the gods could overcome a man's individual fate if only one could persuade or coerce 19This position was advanced by Robert Eisler, Orpheus the Fisher (London, 1925). Eisler's creative documentation in the tradition of John Payne Collier detracts from the value of his book. 2 . OOrphée, pp. 147-148. 21 . A. D. Nock, Converpion (Oxford, 1933), p. 101. 142 them to, and one of the best ways to do this was to wear their images in amulets, sometimes set in rings, but probably most frequently strung on a thong around the neck. The desire to exert compulsion on the gods gave rise to the large numbers of magic and theurgic amulets and papyri produced during the 2nd and 5th centuries A. D., objects which were religious only in a limited sense. As A. A. Barb has pointed out, . . . the religious man, offering his ador- ation in humble submission to the Deity . . . [is] always careful to add to any supplica- tion the reservation "if it be according to thy will." On the other hand, we have the magician, attempting to force the supernatural powers to accomplish what he desires and avert what he fears.22 These theurgic amulets were for the most part products of Graeco-Egyptian culture and made in Alex- andria. Some, Barb thinks, may have been engraved by Alexandrian Jews, who had a great reputation for magi- cal abilities in the Roman period (p. 118). Such seems the case with our gem; the interest of Alexandrian Jews in a syncretic Orpheus has already been demonstrated. The most interesting thing about both the gems and the magical papyri is what Bonner terms their M 22 “The Survival of Magic Arts” in Paganism and Christianity, p. 101. 143 "internationalism" (p. 6). The amulets contain . . . invocations to non-Greek deities, often accompanied by words that are some- times corruptions of Egyptian, Hebrew and Aramaic letters. Such inscriptions are usually, but not always, accompanied by incised figures of various deities, some— times the well-known gods of Greece in Slightly Egyptianized forms, sometimes Egyptian gods more or less Hellenized in appearance, sometimes unfamiliar divine or demonic forms. (p. 67) Those who wore these gems thought that a portrait of a deity or its name inscribed on an amulet gave the wearer power over that deity. To name a thing was to evoke it and control it, and, in the event that a god ' Should go by more than one name——Greek, Egyptian or Hebrew as it might be--to summon him by as many names as possible would of course be most effective. Such attitudes as this lay behind the often bizarre syncretism of Graeco-Egyptian magical objects. For example, a recipe for the treatment of madness is suPposed to be Egyptian, but alludes to Pharoah's plague and to the crossing of the Red Sea, and invokes a daemon to help in the treatment, adjuring him by ”Jesus the 90d 23 of the Jews" (PGM IV, 3007-3085) . A phylactery of y 3There are seven references to Christ by name and more by attribute given in the index to the collec- tion of Greek magical papyri edited by Preisendanz. 144 silver foil, found in Beirut and now in the Louvre, voices the appeals of one Alexandra to Sabaoth to pro— tect her from demons. Sabaoth is a curious being. All nations, including the Greeks, thought that foreign names were the most potent for magical purposes. In Hebrew, Sabaoth meant hosts or armies, and the Israel- ites Spoke of Jehovah as the lord of their hosts and armies. AS the phrase was translated from Hebrew into the Greek of the LXX, a divine person whose name was Sabaoth came into being. When we see this name we can assume that the,user had a knowledge of the Septuagint and an ignorance of Hebrew. Endings in "oth,"the fem- inine plural, were common in the inscriptions of magi- cal gems and were thought to be terminations of power.24 Alexandra also calls upon the archons of the seven heavens, or presiding planetary deities, and on the god of Abraham, concluding, "the one God and his Christ, help Alexandra." 25 To this type of mind there would be nothing odd about conflating Christ, Orpheus, and Bacchus. Each combined a mortal and immortal nature, 24See F. C. Burkitt, Church and Gnosis (Cam- bridge, 1932), pp. 36 ff. on Sabaoth and other such beings. 25Cited in Bonner, p. 102. 145 each had died a Similar death, each had returned from the grave and each possessed the ability to grant others immortality. While it is true, so far as I know, that there is no similar conflation of all three together in antiquity, Christ and Old Testament figures commonly shared their powers with the pagan divinities in many magical objects and papyri. A. A. Barb has recently published a most un- usual amulet of this syncretic sort. The piece, now in the British Museum, represents on one face (Fig. 43) a bust of Christ, the saints, the adoration of the Magi and other New Testament scenes. The reverse (Fig. 44) contains Jewish inscriptions, the Six-pointed star, the figure of Christ-Horus, symbols of the sun and moon and the Christian monogram X‘rF’C , the whole a being surrounded by the self-devouring Gnostic serpent, the Uro‘boros.26 The Christ-Horus—Harpocrates syncre- tism was not uncommon in these objects. A Graeco- Egyptian piece at University College, London (Fig. 45) Shows the figure of the young Harpocrates seated on a lotus, with the inscription,1§ltjf7‘<““3(Jaweh, Jesus). 26A. A. Barb, "Three Elusive Amulets,” JWCI XXVII (1964), discusses Horus as a type of Christ. 146 These instances of Christ's connection with other religions and of his appearance on theurgic amu- ilets Show that the Orpheus amulet is by no means so completely without precedent as earlier students of the gem might have us believe. Let us consider more specifically various features of the amulet. The Crppifieg:Christ-Orpheug. One of the many interesting features of this amulet is the fact that it contains one of the earliest representations of the crucifixion, if not the earliest, on a gem stone. R. Zahn maintains that, by the style of the inscription, this gem cannot be dated later than the 3rd century A.D.,27 and it seems very unlikely that it is earlier than the 2nd. The main difficulty in dating the Orpheus 27"OPOE02 BAKKIKoz , " AF)“ E/\O§__; II '(1926) , 62-63. Franz Dolger, Icthus I (Rome, 1910), 324, has dated it in the 5th century A.D., but it is doubtful if carvings of this sort were made that late. The Or— pheus intaglio is much closer in style to the gems of the 2nd and 3rd centuries A.D. zahn questions the au— thenticity of the gem but offers no evidence, other than the fact that he has never seen one like it before, that it is suSpect. AS Bonner has pointed out, there has been an inordinate amount of discussion devoted to the supposed forging of thousands of magical gems dur- ing the Renaissance. The kinds of gems which the anti- quaries of the period desired, however, were much more elaborate and Hellenic in style, as can be seen from a glance through the pages of Montfaucon, Macarius and Maffei. Because a gem is unusual, it is not necessar- ily false. 147 intaglio has been that the style of the crucifixion depicted on it is very late. The bent—kneed figure of Christ, with feet nailed over each other, is not known in Christian art before the 13th century, and becomes pOpular only in the 14th and 15th centuries. The early Christians did not ordinarily represent Christ on the cross at all until the 6th century. The few exceptions which did so are, in most cases, not completely Christian.28 Rather, the cross was Shown in various forms, either bare or surmounted by a bust of Christ (Fig. 46), or by the hand of God. Only in gems, with two exceptions to my knowledge, do we find early representations of Christ crucified.29 The gems which Show scenes of the crucifixion are: the Orpheus intaglio in the Berlin Museum; a red jaSper from Gaza in Syria, now in the British Mu— seum, showing a crucified nimbed figure with two atten— dants (Fig. 47); a carnelian in the British Museum, 28The first dated use of the cross even by it- self on a Christian monument occurs as late as 134 A.D. in a Palmyrian inscription. See C. DeVogfié, Les In- W (1868-77), 76. p- 55. 29See L. Bréhier, Les Origines du Crucifix dans 1'Art Religieux (Paris, 1908). 148 found in Constanza, Rumania, Showing the crucified Christ with apostles (Fig. 48); and another of Simi- lar subject matter from Rome (Fig. 49). All but the Orpheus intaglio appear to have been made during the 3rd or 4th centuries A.D. In other media there may have been full-scale crucifixion scenes earlier than the Rabula Gospels of 586 A.D., for Prudentius seems to allude to them as early as the 4th century in his Dittochaeon, a guide- book to scenes from the Old and New Testaments depic— ted'on church walls.~ “Pierced through either Side, Christ gives forth water and blood. . . . at this time two robbers on crosses close by on either Side are at variance. The one denies God, the other wears the crown" (XLII). Corroborative evidence for this des- cription, however, is lacking. Thus we are left with only engraved gems for evidence about the earliest crucifixion Scenes, save for two notable exceptions. The first exception is a graffito from the Palace of the Caesars at Rome (Fig. 50), showing the crucified Christ with the head of an ass or of the god Seth-Typhon. Because the graffito is very help- ful for our understanding of the Berlin gem, it seems 149 best to digress a bit and outline the background of this curious inscription. In 1856 four Small rooms, which may have been schoolrooms or guard rooms or both, were discovered in the excavations of the Palace of the Caesars on Palatine Hill. The inscription reads: "Alexamenos worships (his) god." An inscription in another one of the rooms reads, "j/fEifl/L/Efl/OCF I D E - L I S." Fidelis was a Christian epithet, but we note that it is in Latin and the name of Alexamenos is given in Greek. Perhaps it was added by another hand. This drawing has been dated about 150-250 A.D.3O It was, therefore, scratched on the wall of the room at about the same time that the Orpheus gem in the Berlin Museum was made, and like it portrays a quite un-Christian crucifixion. Some have thought that the crucified figure in the graffito is Seth-Typhon, the Egyptian god of the lower world. He was an enemy of Osiris and an embodiment of evil; if one wished to lay a curse on an enemy, Seth's was a good name to inkae. The 30J. S. Northcote and W. R. Brownlow, Roma Sotterranea (London, 1879), p- 345. 150 letter Y, which can be seen in the upper right hand corner of the drawing, is the bivium or magic Sign found on Sethian defixionesypabellae Or curse tablets, and denotes the power of the god over the lower world. The graffito, in this view, is neither a caricature of Christ nor a crucifixion, but rather a drawing of the Sethian Alexamenos worshipping his god.31 The main difficulty with this interpretation is that there is no evidence that Seth was ever wor- shipped as a god, by Gnostic Sethians or by any othr sect. It seems more likely that the Sethians were named after the biblical Seth, the father of men. The Egyptian Seth seems always to have been an evil deity, invoked either like the bogeyman, for corrective pur- poses,32 or else as a purely magical power. Evidence for Seth in Gnostic theology is meager. Epiphanius says that the third archon is named Seth (Ad Haer. XXVI, g§_4l, 345). In company with other archons he might have been invoked in magical objects, but it is 31 . . R.‘Wuensch, Sethianigche Verfludhunqstafeln (Leipzig, 1898). 32 . See the charming account of Seth and the winged womb in A. A. Barb's “Diva Matrix," JWCI XVI (1953). 151 highly unlikely that he would have been worshipped as a deity by himself. The graffito is, to my mind, quite clearly an attack on a Christian named Alexamenos by someone who wished to diSparage the Christians and their name— sake. The real importance of the drawing centers on the question of why Christ should have the head of an ass. Recent scholars have felt that the graffito is connected with the alleged worship of an ass-headed deity by the Jews and Christians.33 The charge that the Jews, and ultimately the Christians, worshipped an ass originated, according to Tertullian (App_. 16), with Tacitus (Higp.‘v, 3). Supposedly there was an image of the ass in the Temple of Jerusalem, to commemorate a legendary miracle in the desert when the Israelites, dying of thirst dur- ing the Exodus, were led to water by some wild asses. This statue is alluded to by Apion (Contra Ap. II, 7, 9) and by Damocritus (Egg IV, 377), who say that An- tiochus Epiphanes found a golden ass in the Temple.34 33 . . W. Déonna, ”Laus ASIni,” Revue Belqe de Ehi'lggggie et d'Histoire XXXIV (1956) and L. Vischer, ”Le Pretendu Culte de l'Ane," B§§,CXXIX (1951)- 34A sidelight on the ass in the Temple is 152 Epiphanius asserts that this thing, when revealed to the world by Zacharias, was the cause of his death (Ad Haer. XXVI, 10, g§_41, 345-348). This story is also found in the apocryphal Birth of Mary.35 Curi- ously, Exodus 34:20 does seem to accord preferential treatment to the firstborn of the ass. As a result of the miracle in the desert, the ass was thought to be always thirsty and expert at discovering water.36 The latter ability has enjoyed mention as late as the novels of Zane Gray. A pursuit of the ass through the desert of Graeco-Egyptian magic leads us closer to the charge Tertullian tries to refute, and from thence to the meaning of the graffito itself. Aside from the story of the ass in the Temple there was another source for the idea of the ass as the god of the Jews and later of the Christians. Etymology was in part responsible, given by Epiphanius, who said that the seventh archon, Sabaoth, the god of the Jews, had the form of an ass or of a pig, which is why the Jews do not eat pork. (Ad Haer. XXVI, fig 41, 345) 35See M. R. James, ed., The Apocryphal New Testament (Oxford, 1924), pp. 19-24. 36Diod. Sic., XXXIV and Albertus Magnus, 2g Anim., XXII, 2, l, 83. 153 for there is evidence that the COptic word for the ass, E36, and the word IAW, another form of Jehovah, were confused. For example, the magic name IAWOW appears as an anonymOus gloss of the sign of the ass in a demotic magic papyrus.37 Seth, the ass-headed god, and the god of the Jews were also linked etymol- ogically in magical documents, as in the great papy- rus at Paris where IOBGINXOCEG is joined with IAW and CABAOG (ggg I, 3261). The fact that Seth is joined with names of power in magical rather than Gnostic documents tends further to define the prece- dents for the graffito. Iconographically Seth could easily have been taken over in the Palatine wall-drawing, as he was traditionally depicted-eboth in magical papyri (Fig. 51) and in gems (Fig. 52)--as standing, and with the head of an ass. So far we have discussed the ass-headed Seth figure only in relation to the Jews, but an ass-headed Christ was sufficiently well known to give point to 37F. Griffith and H. Thompson, eds., The De- motic Magical Papyrus of London and Leyden (London, 1904-09), 26, 14. 154 the insult tendered to Alexamenos. Tertullian men- tions that a painting had recently appeared at Rome, showing a man with the ears of an ass, a hoof on one foot, wearing a toga and carrying a book, with the inscription, "The God of the Christians ONOKOIHTC," .iyg. Donkey Priest (Apgl. 16). This painting seems to have been c0pied On an antique gem (Fig. 53),where .the animal gives instruction to two women. The adver— saries of the early Christians were not slow to point out that the religion attracted many women converts. Moreover, it may even be possible that there was some foundation, if not for the worship of the ass- headed man by the Christians, at least for the em- ployment of such a figure for magical purposes. For it should not be forgotten that both Seth and Christ were thought to have great power over the lower world, and to the syncretistic thinking of the later Empire, 3 the more gods at one's command the better. 8 The It may not be out,of place here to mention a contested reading in the text of a magical papyrus. Leyden 384 (PQM XII, 138-40) contains this fragment: "I exorcise you and your power, great god Seth, and the hour in which you were born5 0 great god, [giver of oracles or replies: x covtgflp the present god, the 365 names of the great god.“ "Giver of or- acles" is a conjecture by Preisendanz; the text appar- ently readsyfi, which may be an abbreviation or a 155 magical significance of the ass-headed Christ is more clearly revealed in a coin depicting Alexander the Great (Fig. 54). The reverse shows an ass and her colt with the inscription, "Our Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God." The animals may be connected in some way with the passage fromExodus referred to above. In an attack on those Christians who tried to augment the power of the cross with magical devices of various sorts, John Chrysostom refers to the custom of wearing coins of Alexander the Great on the head and toes for good luck (Ad Illum. Catec. II, Pg 49, 240). Unfor- tunately he does not explain the significance of these coins. Besides the Palatine graffito, there exists, to my knowledge, one other early crucifixion scene which is not on a gem. In this instance also Christ takes on pagan features. It is an amulet found in Montagnana, Italy, showing an ass4headed Christ hang- ing from a cross, while an ape lodks up in a parody of the Disciples (Fig. 55). monogram for Christ. A. Dieterich, "Papyrus Magica Musei Lugdunensis Batavi," Jahrb. fur Klass. Phil. Suppl. XVI (1888), reads Xpictov. For Christ's asso— ciation with the names of the 365 archons, see Epi- phanius, Ad Haer. XXVI, 9, g§_41, 345. 156 L. Vischer is of the Opinion that the piece is Gnostic in origin. He observes that in the Gnos- tic Physioloqug of the 2nd century A.D. both the ass and the ape are associated with the power of the devil and the demiurge, and the ass is connected with the month of March. To the Egyptians, March 25th was the day when Seth's power for evil was at its greatest. According to Epiphanius the devil was the son of the seventh ardhon, Sabaoth, who as we have seen was as- sociated with the ass-headed god in magical texts (Ad gag. XL, 5, g; 41,. 684) . Thus Vischer thinks that the ass-headed person is the devil or the demiurge who has been conquered by the cross, and the ape be— low is the humiliated devil.39 Perhaps the imitative power of the demiurge is parodied by the ape and his well known imitative faculties. The Montagnana amulet and the Palatine graf— fito provide strong evidence for a tradition of quite un-Christian crucifixion scenes in the late Empire. Indeed, of the crucifixions known to me which can be dated before the 5th century A.D.--the Orpheus gem, 157 the Palatine graffito, the Montagnana amulet, the Gaza, the Constanza and the Rome gems, only the last two are free from Gnostic or magical elements.4O Moreover, the number of examples which connect Christ with an ass--a connection, after all, far more scandalous than the association of Orpheus with Christ, indicates that such a connection was widely current and suggests that perhaps the Orpheus gem in the Berlin Mu- seum is the only surviving example of a class of rela- tively pOpular intagli. More traditional crucifixion scenes also shed light on the Berlin gem. Our gem is the only one of the various representations of the crucifixion before 40There is evidence that the cross in itself was thought to have magical and apotropaic powers. An amulet of the 6th century published by G. Schlumberger, "Quelques Monuments Byzantines Inédits.” Byzantinische Zeitgchrift (1893), p. 188, is quite conventionally ' Christian except for the curious inscription, "Cross, protect Abamoun." Belief in the efficacy of the cross came down through the Middle Ages into our own time. A Middle English charm in Glazier M.S. 39 tells the reader, "This cros§_. XV tymes metynis petrew lenth of our Lorde Ihggu Crista. And pat day that pgu_lokes on it er beris it a—pone the, that day sall no wekid sprete haue poue; to hurte be." Text in C. F. Buhler, ”Prayers and Charms in Certain Middle English Scrolls," Speculum XXXIX (1964), 275. In the Dracula movies of the 1930's and '40's the vampire invariably recoils at the sight of a silver crucifix brandished by the hero. 158 the 6th century which shows the crucified figure alone. The Gaza, Constanza and Rome gems show him either with worshippers or with the twelve apostles. In these rep- resentations Christ is twice the size of the spectators, to indicate his power; except for the Gaza gem, he is rigidly frontal, as he is in all of the extant antique and early medieval crucifixions--the St. sabina gate carving (Fig. 56), the British Museum ivory (Fig. 57), the St. Maria Antigua fresco (Fig. 58), the Utrecht Psalter (Fig. 59), and the Lateran Reliquary (Fig. 60). The only gem which does show similarities in the treatment of Christ-Orpheus' position on the cross is the Gaza gem—-the one furthest from being an ortho- dox Christian scene. It does not present the apostles, six on either side of the cross, as do several early crucifixions, or the two thieves, as do the Abamoun amulet (Fig. 61), St. Sabina gate, and illustrations of the Rabula Gospels. Another important difference is that the Gaza gem contains magical inscriptions which are in no way related to the orthodox Christian crucifixion. Finally, the attitude of the persons on the Gaza gem, coupled with the inscriptions, suggests that they seek the aid of the nimbed figure or worship 159 its power. On the other hand, the attitude of this figure, arms slightly bent from the body's weight, legs bent and turned to the left as in the Orpheus ‘ gem, shows that the gem was engraved with a real cross in mind. Since the main interest of both the Gaza and the Orpheus gems lay in their magical powers, and since these powers were the reason their owners wore them, there was no need, as in more orthodox scenes, to over- look or disguise the fact that crucifixion was an igno- minious death reserved for slaves and not to be associ- ated with the son of God. What, then, can we conclude from the dissimilarity of composition and attitude be— tween the Berlin gem and the rest of the early cruci- fixion scenes? Simply that the Orpheus gem is not meant to be an historical or realistic crucifixion, either of Christ or of "Orpheus—Bacchus," but rather, its importance lies in the realm of syncretistic magic. The Stars and Creggent. Above the cross on the Berlin gem are engraved seven stars and a crescent, a motif whose wideSpread use in funerary art of the Roman period suggests something more about the amulet's purpose and thereby about Orpheus‘ significance for the wearer. 160 AThe iconography of this motif probably has its origins in ancient Syrian and North African religious thought and even earlier in Egyptian sun worship. The most primitive examples of the motif in both pagan and Christian funerary art consist of simple ornamentation of tombs or stelae with solar discs and stars (Fig. 62).41 From these developed more narrative treatments of the dead person's relation to the heavens. A Latin stele from Dura-Eur0pos shows the dead man outstretched with the sun figured prominently above him (Fig. 63).42 The sun often served as a synecdoche for the heavens in the funerary and religious art of the Hellenistic and Roman periods.43 On a stone found in Rome we learn that the / occupant of the tomb was a 7X/077r/ / f , a child of the sun. Yet that this inscription was Christian in l . . . . 4 See the Christian sarc0phagi reproduced in J. Toutain, "Les Symboles Astraux sur les Monuments Funer- aires de l'Afrique du Nord,” Revue des Etude§_Anciennes XIII (1911). One is from Altava in Caesarea, the other from Ain Beida. 42 . . . The Excavation§:at Duga-Europos, Preliminary Report of the Sixth Season (New Haven, 1936), pl. XXXII. 43See G. Michailides, to whose article, "Ves- tiges du-Culte Solaire parmi 1es Chrétiens d'Egypte," Bulletin de la Société d'Archéologie Copte XIV (1950), I am indebted for much of my information on solar reli- gion in this period. 161 origin can be established by the presence on it of a lamb flanked by two fish (CIG IV, 9727). Sometimes the sun is associated with immortality by a quirk of c/ early Christian etymology-—the prOphet Elijah (,6/X-AXIP ), who did not die, was linked with the sun (/ fiKAI/0_f ), as in the cemetery of Peter and Marcel- linus where a nimbed sun, representing the prOphet, . . 4 . guides a chariot to the heavens. 4 As H. Seyrig has remarked in his discussion of astral symbolism in the eastern Empire, in a period when the belief in a supreme be- ing had infiltrated all religions--a being whose rule embraced the entire universe-- this divinity was often imagined under an astral aspect. The stars and the planets, especially the sun 29d the moon, passed for aspects of destiny. This destiny was most often a literal journey of the soul to the stars. A 2nd century A.D. funerary relief from Albano. now in the National Museum at Copenhagen (Fig. 64), pictures a child's soul having reached heaven v 44 178 ff. See A. B. Cook, Zeus (Cambridge, 1914-40) I, 5Henri Seyrig, “Heliopolitana,” Bull. du Musée de Beyrouth I (1937), p. 93, my trans. See also F. Cu- mont, ”Théblogie Solaire du Paganisme,” Acad. des In- scriptions II, 2 (1913). 162 by a bust of the child resting in the crescent of the moon and surrounded by seven stars. The doctrine of the soul's home in the heavens is at least as old as Pythagoras, whom his biographer Iamblichus represents as having held that the sun and moon were actually the Isles of the Blessed (flip, Pythag. l8, 2). Pythagoras was also supposed to have said that the space between the earth and the moon was filled with souls (Diog. Laert., Vit. Pythaq. VIII, 32). Pliny eXplained the soul's affinity for the heavens thus: "animasque nostras partem esse caeli" (EE.II: 26, 95). The true lover, according to Plutarch, "when he has reached the other world," enjoys himself in the company of the god of love "until it is time for him to go again to the meadows of the moon . . . and fall asleep beforeluabafins another existence in this world" (Amgp. 20). Plutarch thought the soul was a light- giving entity like the stars of its original home. As it descended into matter it acquired earthly im- purities-~rather like dirt on a 1ightbu1b--WhiCh ob— scured its luminosity. He relates how a certain Tim— archus, wishing to learn about the voice which spdke to Socrates, descended into an oracular crypt where 163 he went into a trance and his soul escaped through his skull. Pleased at its freedom, it ascended through the Spheres, passed through the realm of fire and lost sight of earth. Finally it looked down and saw only a chaotic darkness from which came anguished cries. A daemon tells the soul of Timarchus that the sounds come from earth, which is Hades, and that the Styx is a path from the earth to the heavens. Some souls who have escaped the cyle of birth, decay and death go to the moon, where the immutable realm begins. Other souls are sent-back to earth for reincarnation. The dim stars which the soul of Timarchus sees are actu- ally those souls which still contain earthly impurities, while the brightest stars are the souls of those men who have freed themselves from earthly concerns and who have gained understanding (De Gen. Soc. 22-23).46 4 . . . 6Certain neo-Platonic writers interpreted the underworld myths of Homer and Virgil to show that the rivers which circled Hades in old legend were actually the spheres which encircled the earth, and that the souls supposed to inhabit different parts of Hades ac- tually inhabited different zones above the earth. Here is how Proclus eXplained the rivers: Indeed the places of judgement below the earth and in Hades and those rivers of whidh both Homer and Plato Sp0ke to us Should not be sup- posed to be empty fantasies and quackish myths. But just as for those souls going into heaven 164 Patristic references to astral translation, while less common, show the idea's importance in early Christianity. For St. Augustine, the souls of evil men must continue the round of reincarnation alluded to by Plutarch, but souls of good men "go to the high— est part of the heavens, to rest there in stars and be visible in their lights" (gem CCLX, 4, g1, 38, 1132). Gregory regards this idea in a more metaphoric sense, but still gives credence to it. What is meant by the stars if not the souls of those who lived a singularly good life? Who in the company of depraved men stood out by their great virtues, just as stars shine in the gloom of night" (Moral. in JOb XVII, 16, g 76, 21). there are many ranks and destinies marked out, so it is necessary to think that for those needing punishment and purification rivers arise from below the earth, being subtle emanations of the earth above, which are called rivers and streams. (In Rem. 383, Kroll I, 121-22) Lydus reports that the Egyptian Hermes said that those souls who have transgressed the rules of piety, when they are delivered from the body, are given over to the gods and are borne through the air and slung across the zones of fire and hail which the poets call Pyriphlegathon and Tartarus. (De Mens. IV, 149, Wuensch, p. 167) Such ideas lie behind the pagan epitaph for a ten-year- old boy who had read Homer and Pythagoras during a happy childhood and now goes to Hades through the stars (Anth. Lat. 434, Beecheler). 165 The ascent of the soul was of particular in— terest to writers on white magic. Hermes Trismagis- tus, in the CorppggHermeticum, presents this explan— ation of the ascent. At death the soul mounts upward through the structure of the heavens. And to the first zone of heaven he gives up the force which works increase and that which works decrease; to the second zone, the machinations of evil cunning . . . and thereupon, having been stripped of all that was wrought upon him by the structure of the heavens, he ascends to the substance of the eighth sphere, being now possessed of his own proper power. And.he sings, to- gether with those who dwell there, hymning the Father . . . and thereafter, each in his turn, they mount upward to the Father . . . [and] enter into God. (tr. Walter Scott, I, 25, 111) Similar accounts could be found in eastern, and particularly Mithraic, religion as well. In the mysteries of Mithras, Celsus was supposed to have said, the passage of the soul through the heavens was repre- sented as follows: there is a ladder with lofty gates, and on top of it an eighth gate. The first gate consists of lead, the second of tin . . . . the first gate they assign to Saturn . . . the second to Venus . . . (Contra Celsum VI, 22, ANF, p. 360). In Judaeo-Gnostic and magical lore the seven stars stand for the archons or presiding deities of 166 of the planets. Origen Speaks of a diagram belonging to the Gnostic Ophites which was a sort of map for the soul's progress after death. The soul must pass through the realm of each of the seven planetary archons; to avoid being trapped in any particular realm it must offer the archon certain magical images or speak cer- tain magical words. It says to sabaoth, for example, whom we have met before in magical contexts, "O archon of the fifth realm, mighty Sabaoth . . . admit me . . . (literally) seeing the unfailing symbol of your art, an image of your stamp" (Contra Celsum VI, 31, Pg 11, 1344). A somewhat similar passage occurs in the Gospel of Philip. “The Lord revealed unto me what the soul must say as it goeth up unto heaven, and how it must answer each of the powers above."47 Like the so-called "Orphic" gold plates from southern Italy which gave directions about the topog- raphy of Hades to the dead man and identified him to the ruling deities,48 the Orpheus gem may have been designed to propitiate malignant archons or otherwise 47Apocpyphal New Testament, p. 12. 48The best discussion of these plates is in Guthrie, p. 181 ff. 167 aid the soul in its journey to the stars. As we may recall from the plan of the soul's ascent outlined by Hermes Trismagistus in the Corpug Hermeticum, each of these archons—-who were partly material, and so malig- nant, in the Gnostic and magical systems of antiquity --had power over a certain part of the soul. The chart of which Origen speaks sounds suspiciously like a mag- ical papyrus, and the archons, Sabaoth, IAW, Ildabaoth, and so forth, are names of power found on magical amu- lets. The system of Origen's chart, of course, is nothing but apotrOpaic astrology. The archons, in plainer language, are those planets and constellations thought to hold power over the various parts of the man in apotrOpaic and medical astrology. Such a con- nection between the heavens and the human body may be seen in a Greek medical manuscript illustration of the Byzantine period (Fig. 65). A version of Origen's chart exists on a gem from the Cabinet of Florence (Fig. 66).49 A. Delatte has interpreted the inscriptions around the seven stars as the names of the seven archons in a magical 49Published by P. Maffei. Gemme Antichi (Rome, 1707-1709), II, x, 23. 168 cosmology,50 and thinks that the gem may represent the soul descending into generation and arriving at the Lion—-that constellation representing a grade of initiation in the solar theolOgy of the period (p. 19) .51 A votive relief of Selene in the British Mu— seum (Fig. 67) shows the goddess surrounded by the seven stars and signs of the zodiac; the piece, of Graeco—Roman make, indicates that the goddess has power over the astral bodies—-perhaps as Christ—Orpheus has power over the star552-—and the relief is inscribed with the names of the more familiar of the seven archons, as well as of some that sound a bit like the names on l A. Delatte, "Etude sur la Magie Gréfiue," Musée Belqe: Revue de Philoloqie Classigue XVIII (1914), p. 14. 50 51In Porphyry, De Ant. Nymph. 13, bees are the souls of the/VVb—71L/at the end of their voyage through the planetary spheres, an idea which may ex- plain the bee in the mouth of the lion. 52An extensive hand list of monuments which show Christ crucified or enthroned between the sun and moon has been compiled by Waldemar Déonna, "Les Crucifixes de la Vbllée de Saas . . . Sol et Luna, Histoire d'un Theme Iconographique,“ BER CXXXIII (1947). For further discussion of the sun and moon as symbols for eternity in east Christian art, see A. Drioton, Bull. de la Soc. d'Ardheoloqie Copte x (1944). 169 the Florence lion gem: IAIA, ¢PAIN¢IPI, KANWGPA, AUKUCUNTA, 4m! EKAKICTH, CABAWG, ABWGEPCAC.53 The seven stars are not limited to pagan use, but recur in many Christian contexts to indicate the all—inclusive power of God. In Revelation 1:4 JOhn sends grace to the churches in Asia "from him which is, and which was, and which is to come and from the seven spirits which are before his throne." This description reminds one of the description of Jehovah in Orpheus' Palinode, who sat on a golden throne in the heavens- Here the seven spirits are the archons or angels of the planets. In the famous description of "one like unto the Son of man" we learn that he had "in his right hand seven stars . . . and his countenance was as the sun shineth in his strengt ” (1:17), and he said to John, “I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and death" (1:18). A Christian lamp of the third century from Rome (Fig. 68) shows the Good Shepherd bearing the sheepe-that 53The inscriptions on the Selene relief are given by A. H. Smith, A Capalogug of Sculptures . . . in the British Museum (London, 1904) III, 2162. 170 is, the soul--to the seven stars just visible above his head. Ofpheus was, as we have seen, associated with a very similar function after death, and the seven stars pictured above him on the Berlin amulet may well allude directly to this function. Certainly the con- junction of his name with that of Bacchus and with the crucifixion of Christ is further evidence that the gem, like the Palatine graffito and the Montag- nana amulet, is not designed to commemorate the cru- cifixion of Christ. The Berlin gem, along with many other primarily magical objects of this period, is a relic of the religious syncretism of the late Empire. The man who attaches a St. ChristOpher medal to the dashboard of his car is, in effect, calling upon the magical power of the saint to aid travelers in this world by the mere possession of his image. The owner of the St. Christopher medal, using the pagan wish- magic of antiquity together with the name and image of a Christian saint, is employing the same kind of device, for much the same purpose, as the owner of the Christ-Orpheus amulet. 171 Orpheus in Sculpture Next to mosaic pavements, Orpheus is most frequently encountered in sculpture and reliefs. There are some twenty—seven pieces extant which depict Or— pheus, ranging in date from the lst to the 6th centuries A. D.; most were made during the 3rd and 4th centuries. The carving is of varying quality, much of it rather poor, and the pieces seem mainly to have come from the eastern and northeastern provinces of the Empire. It is difficult to determine, in most cases, whether the pieces are pagan or Christian in concep- tion. Some clearly are Christian, such as a sarc0pha- gus fragment from Cacarens (Fig. 69) where the variety of animals of the more traditional Orpheus scenes has been reduced to two: sheep or cows, which create a pastoral atmosphere and connect this Orpheus with the Good Shepherd. Other reliefs, those of Lauriacum and Intercissa (Figs. 70, 71) are more traditional and more ambiguous. Since many of these carvings were made for Roman soldiers-dwho were not noted for a rapid conversion to Christianity--the majority of them were probably pagan in conception, unless we 172 can point to specifically Christian details of their iconography.54 That Orpheus sculptures of the 3rd, 4th, and later centuries A. D. came out of more than a decor- ative tradition we know from the many pieces which plainly are funerary monuments. Out of twenty—four larger carvings, fifteen are from chapels, mausoleums, sarcophagi, and simple graves; four may have been funer- ary in origin; the remainder give no indication that they are not from funerary settings. The intention of these pieces was probably to eXpress hOpe of immor- tality or celestial happiness for the dead person--an intention borne out by the scenes depicted on other monuments among which they were found. Other such works also portray mythological subjects--Heracles and Alcestis, for example--dealing with resurrection and immortality.55 54G. G. King, "Reliefs at Budapest," AJA XXXVII (1933), points out that the graves at Intercissa were those of Roman legionaries who bore their mystery re—i ligions with them. p. 64 ff. Two Orpheus stelae come from Intercissa, one from Pettau, Yugoslavia, and one from Lauriacum, all military sites. 55Such themes predominate in the handlist given by King, Op. cit. Parallel reliefs of Orpheus and Eur- ydice, Heracles, and Alcestis occur in the mausoleum of 173 These are themes which one might well eXpect to see treated in underworld scenes, the triumphant Orpheus winning Pluto by his song or leading Eurydice towards the upper world. Yet in all but two examples Orpheus is shown playing to the animals above ground.56 Only when we realize the associations attached to Or- pheus as animal charmer in the Roman period can we understand how funerary representations of him among the animals may, in certain ways, be more to the point. D. Apuleius Maximus Rideus at El-Amrouni in North Africa. See Philippe Berger "Le Mausolée d'El-Amrouni” RA XXVI (1895). 56Three funerary pieces allude, wholly or in part to the underworld rather than to the animal legend. In the stele from Intercissa, the artist has shown Or- pheus in triumph, leading Eurydice through the door of Hades. The mausoleum at El-Amrouni shows two reliefs. In one, he sits below a tree, an eagle, a griffin, a bear and other animals listen to his song. The other relief depicts Ixion on his wheel, Charon and his bark, a three-headed Cerberus. A hand appears in a door way, pointing at a cowled Eurydice who is being led away by Orpheus. This relief and that of Intercissa give a happy ending to the legend. On the great stele in the market place at Pettau, Yugoslavia (Fig. 72) Orpheus plays to the animals in the upper register, some of whom walk about in a frame, reminiscent of the Orpheus mosaics. Below in the damaged lower register, he plays before the gods of the underworld and Hermes or Heracles stands with Eurydice. 174 Hades, was, after all, connected with the most ancient and the most pessimistic View of the afterlife: "Oblivio omnium rerum mors" (9;; 12, 4745). As was suggested earlier, post-Stoic thought was much con— cerned to translate the old infernal regions to the heavens and to consider the nature of the soul and the afterlife in more sophisticated terms. In general, with the Pythagoreans, Stoics, and neo-Platonists, there was a shift in interest from the cthonic Hades of Homer to a celestial home for the soul. Although the story of how Orpheus by his beautiful song per- suaded the underworld deities to release his wife and to allow them both to return to the light may seem initially more appropriate to a funerary context, it has, I think, certain flaws. First and most obvious, it is a descensus: a voyage to the bowels of the earth rather than to the light. We should recall that even the descensus ad inferos in the 6th book of Virgil's Aeneid ended with the hero's vision of an ascent to the light by the souls of the righteous. Further, in most versions, Orpheus does not succeed in bringing his wife back to the world of the living. ~y—.w.mqw W'fi * 175 The allegorical possibilities inherent in the story of the animal Charming are much greater. It is easier, as the frequency of such interpretations illus- trates, to interpret the animals as savage men, and,by extension, the irascible parts of the soul, while I can think of no such allegorical interpretation, in late antiquity, of Orpheus' persuasion of Pluto and Proser- pine. They were what they were. In addition, the animal legend, with its stringed music, fit in well with the current Pythagorean theories about the nature of the heavens and the place of the soul in them. In antiquity it was thought that the whirling of the celestial bodies produced a beautiful harmony. This music resulted, as Scipio Africanus learned dur- ing his dream vision, from the motions of the spheres, one within the other. The highest tones were made by the outermost, the lowest tones by the innermost sphere, that of the moon, which moves slowly. The moving spheres produced seven tones, and this number bound all things- together (Som. Scip. VIII).57 The soul was peculiarly 57Plato, in the Republic, had said that on each planet sat a Siren who sang one note, and that all of the Sirens singing together produced the celestial music (116b). In a lst-century A.D. cefling mosaic for the temple of Bel-Jupiter at Palmyra, the goddesses of the seven planets are grouped around the central god in a 176 attracted to this music because it reminded the soul of its divine home before the descent into generation. Philo wrote of it that . . . the music which is perfected in heaven and is produced by the harmony of the move- ment of the stars . . . does not extend or reach as far as the Creator's earth . . . because of His providential care for the human race. For it rouses to madness those who hear it, and produces in the soul an indescribable and unrestrained pleasure . . . (Quaest. in Gen. III, 3) The musical relation of the soul to the divine intel- ligence was the one constant which even a debased life could not destroy. As Macrobius expressed it, Every soul in this world is allured by mus- ical sounds, . . . not only those who are more refined in their habits, but all of the barbarous peOple as well . . . for the soul carried with it into the body a mem- ory of the music which it knew in the sky, and is so captivated by its charm that there is no breast so cruel or savage as not to be gripped by the spell of such an appeal. This I believe was the origin of the [story] of Orpheus. (Comment. in Som. Scip., tr. W. H. Stahl, p. 195) hexagon framed by the zodiac, in the corners of which are the celestial Sirens (K. A. Cresgwell, Early Muslim Architecture, Oxford, 1932, I, p. 138 ff., Fig. 87). The motif is given a Christian interpretation in the Church of San Marco, Venice, where, in a mosaic, the four evangelists support the heavenly dome and the Si— rens' Platonic song is replaced by this inscription: "Ecclesiae Christi/ vigiles sunt quattuor isti,/ quorum dulce melos/ sonat et movet unique caelos" (Reproduc- tions and inscriptions in K. Lehmann, "The Dome of Heaven," Art Bulletin XXVII (1945». 177 The instrument most capable of imitating the music of the spheres on earth was the seven-stringed lyre with which Orpheus had conquered Hell and charmed the animals, for it, of all the instruments, was the only one created according to the pattern of the uni- verse itself. Moreover, the soul's relation to the universal intelligence was very like that of the lyre to the musician; God, as Clement and others had pointed out, was the divine musician. Thus a man wishing astral immortality could do no better than to associate himself with this instrument, for, as Cicero said, "men who know how to imitate the harmony of the spheres by the lyre open up a road for themselves to heaven” (gpm, _S_g_;j._p. VIII). According to Pythagoras the universe was made on the same principles which were later used in the construction of the lyre (Quintillian, Instit. I, 10, 12). There are two versions of this idea. The first, and probably the older, is the notion of the concordia discors of the four elements, as develOped by Heracli— tus. He saw the relation of air, earth, fire, and water to one another as similar to that of the archer's bow to its bowstring. Too much strain on the bow breaks 178 the string, too much stress on the string breaks the bow. Too much earth destroys air, too much water destroys fire, but if all four elements exist in equal struggle, the organic universe lives and emits an har- monious sound. The analogy in the case of the lyre is that the lyre strings must be tightened in perfect relation to each other or cacaphony will result.58 Sidonius Apollinaris refers to this version of Pytha- gorean harmony when he says, "He [Pythagoras] also calls by the name of harmony the arrangement of the four elements . . ." (gggm, XV). This doctrine of harmony was elaborated upon during the Middle Ages, and Athanasius Kircher referred to it in his work on the principles of music: "Orpheus constructed a lyre with four strings and arranged all of the tones accord— ing to steps in fourths (gradpg diatessaron), of which the first cord, hypate, he assigned the earth; the sec- ond, parhypate, to water; the third, paranete, to air and the fourth, nete, to fire.“59 58Fragment 251, Diels. 59Musurgia Universalis sive Ars Magna Consoni et Dissoni (Rome, 1650), Bk. X, p. 371. Kircher claims to have got this idea "Briennio teste," that is, from Manuel Bryennius, who may have been following a fragment 179 The second, and more common, version of the lyre's relation to the cosmos is based on the number seven. Theon Smyrnaeus wrote that "When Hermes was a boy he invented the lyre and, going into the heavens and passing the planets, he marvelled that from the movement of the planets came forth a harmony similar to that of the lyre which he himself had constructed" (Hiller, p. 142). Other writers, interested in the mystical possibilities of the number seven, elaborated on it. Philo said that the lyre has seven strings by analogy with the "heavenly choir of the seven planets who, in harmonious agreement, direct the fabrication of all musical instruments" (De Op. Mund., 126). Hip- polytus, on the other hand, links the instrument with the Hexameron.l The lyre consists of seven strings, signifying . . . the entire harmony and construction of the world as it is melodiously constituted. of Varro. Bryennius, c. 1320, was a Byzantine music- ologist who wrote a summary of Aristides Quintilianus and other early musical theorists, the De Harmonica, ed. Johannis Wallis, Opera Mathematica, Oxford, 1699 (see III, p. 361). Aristides had written that music comes about from changes in the order of the elements, and that the arrangement of tones is analogous to the arrangement of the cosmos: ”Wise men say that the uni- verse is a kind of lyre struck by the plectrum of God." (De Musica, III, 25) 180 For in six days the world was made, and [the Creator] rested on the seventh (Ref. IV, 48, ANF, p. 43) o Varro is more metaphoric yet: "The Sun follows his perennial course, tempering with a sure harmony the noble lyre of the gods," i.e. the seven planets (Pet— ronii Satirae, Frag. 351, Buecheler). Because of the perfect number of its strings, its effect on the reason, and its relation to the ma- crocosm, the seven—stringed lyre was connected with the soul as well. Simmias said that the soul has the same relation to the body as harmony has to the lyre (Phaedo 85E). And Aristides Quintilianus eXplained that those who honor the pure regions and aether reject all wind instruments as soiling the soul and dragging it down- ward towards material things and apply themselves only to the lyre and cithera because they are the purest instruments and with them they accomplished their religious songs and hymns. (De Mus., II, xix, p. 92) A curious tessera from Palmyra (Fig. 73) con— nects the lyre with the stars. The piece shows Apollo- Nebo playing his lyre before a star and may help to explain a little-known passage from the Syrian apolo- gist, Melito of Sardis, who lived about 200 A. D. (U h" 181 What should I write to you about the god Nebo in Mabug? For see that all the priests in Mabug know him to be a c0py of the Thra- cian wizard Orpheus.6 The myth of Apollo and Marsyas was often in- terpreted as the victory of the soul over the base appetites of the body, and hence of the lyre over the flute, the celestial over the mortal life. Aristides gives this view of the story. Pythagoras counselled his disciples when they have heard flute songs to purify themselves of a sound filled with fogs of wind, but on the other hand, with re- spect to the lyre, to welcome these sounds of good omen as a way of purifying them- selves of the irrational passions of the soul. For the flute flatters that which rules the lower part of the soul and the lyre is dear and agreeable to that which watches on the reasonable part. (De Mus. II, xix, p. 91) According to Cumont, the sounds of the lyre were held by the Romans to purify the man, rid him of material concerns and provoke in him such an ecstasy that the divine love, by which he is seized, leads him to the etherial spheres, and this ecstasy gives him a foretaste of 6OThe Palmyran tessera was published by H. Ingeholt et al., Recueil des Tesséres de Palmyra (Paris, 1955), pl. XLIX, 302. The passage from Mel- ito occurs in the Corpus Apologetarum Christianorum, ed. J. Otto (Jena, 1882), p. 426. 182 what he will eXperience when his soul, freed from matter, flies to the stars. Because of this association of the lyre with the soul and with immortality, Clement of Alexandria could sug— gest to new Christians that among their seals should be, not portraits of the pagan divinities, but the an- chor, the ship running before a fair wind, the fish, and the lyre (Eééén III, 2). There is evidence that Orpheus, the lyre, and the stars were joined in the literature as well as in the art of antiquity. In a gloss of Servius on Aeneid, VI, 119, found in B. N. Lat. 7930 there is a reference to a lost work ascribed to Orpheus and called §y£_. The scholium Speaks of how "Orpheus according to the fable descended to Hell for the recalling (revocandam) of his wife's soul." Apparently the author does not put much faith in the idea of Eurydice's bodily resur- rection. He says that When Virgil writes "arcessare" he means "evocare," so apparently Orpheus was thought to have a particular power in raising the spirits of the dead. He goes on, l . 6 Franz Cumont, Recherches sur le Syppolisme Funéraire des Romains (Paris, 1942), P- 18. My trans. 183 certain pe0ple say that the lyre of Or- pheus had seven strings and heaven has seven zones, from whence a theological eXplanation is given. Varro, however, says that a book of Orpheus on the sum- moning of the soul is called Lyra, and it is denied that the soul can ascend without a lyre. A. D. Nock suggests that this Lyra may have been a neo-Pythagorean work for invoking the souls of the dead (p3, 1927, p. 170). Indeed, if anyone would have known a curious custom concerning Orpheus, it would have been Varro, as we saw in connection with the semi-dramatic treatment of Orpheus in Laurentum (Introduction, n. 20). This scholium indicates then that both in Varro's and in Servius' time Orpheus' lyre was associated with l) the celestial afterlife, 2) the means of gaining such a life, and 3) the ar- 63 . ' rangement of the heavens themselves. A picture 62On VI, 645, Servius gives a similar state- ment about the lyre and the planets. Orpheus ". . . primus etiam deprehendit harmoniam, id est circulorum mundanorum sonum, quos novem esse novimus. e quibus summus, quem anaston dicunt sono caret, item ultimus, qui terrenus est. Reliqui septem sunt, quorum sonum deprehendit Orpheus, unde uti septem fingitur chordis." (ed. Thilo and Hagen, pp. 89-90) 63It is interesting that Orpheus and the Sibyl are the only two figures from pagan mythology admitted in the Coptic funeral chapel frescoes at Bawft. 184 of Orpheus playing his lyre to the animals could al— lude to the soul's place in the heavens just as well as, perhaps even better than, a representation of Orpheus in the underworld. Thus the lyre of Orpheus conquered Hell, and as Manilius, the Roman astronomer, says of the con- stellation Lyra, "if once the rocks and woods followed it in cadence, now it leads the stars, and the spheres, revolving, follow it" (Astron. I, 323 ff.). Two groups of late antique sculpture embody these eschatological ideas, in greater or lesser de- gree. The first of these is a collection of five sculptures very similar in style. They all show, or once showed, Orpheus and the animals surrounded by an arbor of living trees. The second group is a collection of sarcophagi and sarcophagi fragments which show Orpheus in the position of Mithras the bull-slayer. Sculptures belonging to the arbor grOUp may have been designed for use in burial places; those belonging to the Mithras tauroctonos group certainly were. The arbor qrogp, These pieces, the first, the Tibicini Monument in the Museo Communale (Fig. 74), 185 the second, in the Ottoman Museum in Istamboul (Fig. 75), the third, in the Athens Museum (Fig. 76), the fourth, from sabratha, in Tripoli (Fig. 77), and the fifth, recently discovered at Byblos64 (fig. 78), seem to have been designed to stand on bases. Though they are nominally three—dimensional, judging from the style of the four complete pieces, they suggest transpositions from flat sarc0phagus reliefs, or, more likely, from frontal mosaics of the 4th or 5th centuries A.D. as they are all quite frontal in as- pect. It seems likely that all but the more Hellenic Tibicini piece were made in the same workshOp or imi- tated from a common pattern book.65 The fact that they seem based on a text from Philostratus which described Orpheus in the arbor of living trees (Imgg. 6), in addition to their lack of any Christianizing elements, suggests that they were pagan productions. In view of the number of Orpheus scenes which have been linked to tombs, graves, and funeral chapels, 64Published by J. Lauffray, Bull. du Musée de Beyrouth IV (1940). 65On this question see G. Mendel, Catalogue des Sculptures des Musées Oppomag (Constantin0ple, 1914) II, 420-423 and W. Lowrie AJA V (1901) pp. 52-3. 186 it seems likely that these pieces were designed to be placed in burial shrines rather than to serve merely a decorative function. C. Picard believes that the sculptures were acroteria to ornament the tops of pedestals around pagan fountains. Because the Byblos sculpture was broken into so many pieces when it was found in front of the wall of the Nym— phaeum at Byblos, Picard thinks it must have fallen from a great height and thus served as a crown piece for the vault. Faced with the problem of explaining why the piece would have been associated with the Nymphaeum in the first place, he points to the epi- gram by Martial mentioned earlier, in which the poet spoke of an Orpheus sculpture in a Roman reservoir. While the eagle present in three of the arbor sculp- tures is also present in Martial's poem, this bird, as I have shown, had specific eschatological asso- ciations during the late Empire and is found with Orpheus in a number of funerary contexts. The ques- tion of the arbor group's destination cannot really be resolved, however, since so little is known about . . 66 the origins of these sculptures. 66 . . For the argument in favor of fountains, see C. Picard "Sur l'Orphée de la Fontaine Monumentale au 187 The arbor group definitely seems related to the Orpheus mosaics which were made in the 4th, 5th and later centuries A.D. In the Byblos, Athens, Is- tanbul and Sabratha statues, there is the same divi- sion into upper and lower registers of animals which we noted in the Saragossa and Jerusalem mosaic pave- ments. In the Athens carving, the animals surround- ing Orpheus are arranged in parallel registers, and, except for the sculpture from Sabratha, the lyres when present are displaced to the side. The arbor of trees surrounding the musician suggests the late mosaics of Blanzy and of Volubilis, North Africa (Fig. 79) where Orpheus was enclosed by foliage. Orpheg§_in the tauroctonos position of Mi- phpgg. In a group of Italian sarc0phagi Orpheus has taken on the pose of Mithras the Bull Slayer. While this conflation of two divinities would be curious by itself, it is the more so since these sarcophagi seem definitely Christian in conception and the artists appear to have been representing Byblos" Miscellanea G. de Jerphanion (Rome, 1947) p. 270 ff, and "Lacus Orphei" ;RE_L_ xxv (1947) p. 82 ff, by the same author. J. Strzygowski, Rom. Quart. IV (1890) p. 166, has argued for their manufacture as funerary statues. 188 Christ the Good Shepherd by the same figure. They gave him the sheep of the Good Shepherd, the lyre and costume of Orpheus, and the stance of Mithras. All of these pieces are so close in style as to sug- gest that they were made in the same workshOp and that they may have imitated a common original. Of these sarc0phagi, one is from the Baths of Titus and Trajan (Fig. 80), one from Porto Torres in Sardinia (Fig. 81), and one from Ostia (Fig. 86), while two additional fragments have been reconstructed by Wil- pert (Figs. 83, 4). In each instance Orpheus assumes what I shall call the tauroctonos position. This position is the traditional pose of the god Mithras as he is portrayed in the symbolic sacri- fice of the bull, whose blood was necessary for the cyclical regeneration of the earth as well as for the initiatory rites of those entering the god's cult.67 Mithras assumes this position, for example, in a sculpture now at the Vatican Museum (Fig. 85). He wears a Phrygian bonnet and Persian trousers, and 67For the ceremony of the taurobolium in the Mithraic system see the graphic description of Pru- dentius, Perist. X, 1010 ff. 189 supports himself on his left knee.68 Compare this statue with the sarc0phagus found at Porto Torres. Orpheus adOpts a position almost identical with that of Mithras, but the bull has become the Christian sheep or ram; the dagger has become the plectrum of the lyre; where the left hand of Mithras had wrenched back the bull's muzzle, Orpheus steadies with his left hand the lyre on the altar. Moreover, Orpheus wears the same general costume as Mithras and certain other details of the composition are similar. In a bas—relief of Mithras in the Archeological Museum at Florence (Fig. 86) we see his traditional corax or raven perched on the god's outflying cape. In the sarc0phagus relief of Porto Torres, Orpheus, his head turned back, watches the eagle in the tree behind him; other birds sit, lower on the tree and on his lyre. The poses are practically identical, the only real difference being in the position of Orpheus' left leg. Mithras' knee 68For plates and discussion see Fritz Saxl, Mithras (Berlin, 1931). For a handlist of monuments see F. Cumont, "Monuments Figurés Relatifsau Culte de Mithra," RA (1892). On the fixity of Mithras' iconography see A. D. Nock, “The Genius of Mithra- ism," g§§_XXVII (1937), 112-113. 190 rests firmly on the bull's back, while Orpheus, with no bull, only a small sheep or ram, rests his foot on a projection of the altar. If the left leg seems a bit unsupported it is only that the whole pose more prOperly belongs to Mithras. Certain similarities between the solar the- ology of Mithras, the eschatological ideas associated with Orpheus, and the soul-bearing functions of the Christian Good Shepherd may have given the artisans the license to conflate these three persons. Cer- tainly the early Fathers felt the purity of their new religion to be threatened by Mithraism, and we have already seen the way in which they incorporated Orpheus into their apologetic system. Christ, Orpheus and Mithras were all associ- ated with the sun, so that a donor could erect an altar to "The great Helios, incomparable Mithras and to the other gods who dwell with them."69 In the so- lar theology of Mithraism, the god was a psych0pompos 9Greek text in G. Patriarcha, ”Tre Iscris— ioni Relative al Culto di Mitra," Bull. della Cpmm, Arch. Communale LX (1932), 3 ff. Marthe Collinet- Guérin, Histoire du Nimbe (Paris, 1961), mentions some Bactrian coins on which Mithras wears a solar nimbus (p. 178). See also the famous relief of An- tiochus from Commagene, depicting Apollo-Mithras— Helios-Hermes (Saxl, Mithras, p- 3, pl- 1: 5)- 191 who bore the souls of the initiated to the sun. So Julian, in the Caesars, 336 C, describes the god's function: "As for thee," Hermes said to me, "I have granted thee the knowledge of thy father Mithras. Do thou keep his com- mandments, and thus receive for thyself a cable and sure anchorage throughout thy life, and when thou must depart from the world thou canst with good hOpe adOpt him as thy guardian god." Orpheus was connected with the sun because he was the child of Apollo in some legends. Also, in the lost Bassarides of Aeschylus Orpheus was a priest and worshipper of Apollo, for which apostasy he was killed by the Bacchantes of Dionysus. Sometimes Or- pheus and Apollo were even conflated (see n. 60 above), as in this stele from Carthage where Apollo—Orpheus stands beneath emblems of the sun and the moon (Fig. 87). Apparently there were many early Christians who took Clement's metaphoric statement about Christ and the sun literally: "Christ [is] the Sun of the Resurrection . . . who with His beams bestows life" (Protr. 9, ANF, p. 81), and who worshipped the sun as an a5pect of Christ. Such are the peOple of whom Eusebius of Alexandria Speaks. 192 For I have known of many who adore and pray to the sun; I know that they implore the rising sun and that they say "have pity on us,” and not only the Heliognos- tics and heretics do this, but the Chris- tians as well, who, abandoning their faith, mingle with the heretics? (§§_86, 453) In an anathema against heretics, the Speaker says, "I curse those who say that Christ is the sun and 7 those who pray to the sun." Closer to the particular syncretism of these sarc0phagi is the statement of St. Augustine who spoke of how the priests of various mystery cults tried to seduce the Christians, apparently by leading them down syncretistic paths. I remember that the priests of the one in the cap (illius pileati, i.e. Mithras) used to say at one time: “the Capped One is himself a Christian.“ (Comm. in Joann. VII, i, g; 35, 1440) And both Justin and Tertullian took pains to point out the dangerous similarity between the Mithraic and the Christian rituals. The Fathers were quite aware that Mithras was probably Christ's most seri- ous rival in the ancient world. The Mithraists, Justin says, with the eager help of the devil, 7OGreek text in J. B. Cotelerius, Patrum Qui Temporibus Apostolicis Floruerunt Opera (Antwerp, 1698) I, 538. 193 c0pied the Christian rites in an effort to discredit them, and that is why "bread and a cup of water are placed with certain incantations in the mystic rites of one who is being initiated” (Apol. I, lxvi, ANF, pp. 64-65). A similar version of the devil's work is prOposed by Tertullian. If my memory still serves me, Mithra there [in the kingdom of Satan] sets his marks on the foreheads of his sol- diers, celebrates also thecblation of bread and introduces an image of a res- urrection, and before a sword.wreathes a crown. (De Praescript. xl, ANF, p. 48) 71 These similarities which so disturbed the Fathers did not, apparently, disturb the early Chris- tian artisans as much, for a very practical reason. We know that the painters and sculptors of the Apos- tolic and early Patristic periods were under some constraint as to their choice of representations of Christ. They could not, on the one hand, identify him too directly with pagan figures, since he had 71See the provocative parallels between early Christianity and Mithraism, the derivations of the BishOp's Mitre from the name of the god and the Pope's tiara from the Persian tiara of Mithras, among many others, in the entertaining account by Esmé Wynne— Tyson, Mithra The Fellow in the Cap (London, 1958), p. 81 ff. 194 replaced the old mythology with a new. And, on the other hand, they could not turn to JewiSh art, which was not as yet freed from the pre—Talmudic hostility towards figurative representation in the temple.72 Thus they were compelled to use purified pagan types to represent Christ, and, for reasons which should by now be clear, Orpheus was a logical choice. The sheep or rams which replace the bull of Mithras in Christian Orpheus tauroctonos reliefs may leave Or- pheus posed a bit unsteadily, but apparently the sculptors felt that they provided the necessary Christian note to justify Orpheus' presence. Look— ing throughthe collections of Christian sarcophagi published by Wilpert and Marucchi, one sees that sheep or rams are found on almost all of them and that these animals seem to have been a hallmark of Christian funerary art. The Ostia sarcophagus pro- vides a good example of the purified pagan figure used to represent Christ. On the left-hand register 72On the question of the gradually relaxing strictures against animal and human images in the Jewish art of the 3rd and 4th centuries A.D. see the excellent discussion by Marcel Simon, Verus Israel (Paris, 1948), pp. 34-44. 195 stands Christ the manfisher. 0n the upper rim is the inscription: "Firmia, sweet blessed (or holy) soul." On the right-hand register is Christ-Orpheus- Mithras. Apparently the person who commissioned the tomb wished to ensure that Firmia would indeed be blessed, since her body and soul are guarded by the three figures with great power over the stars and the afterlife in antiquity. Another and certainly not Opposing eXplana- tion for the syncretism of the sarCOphagi is the fact that many Christians patronized pagan workshOps, which no doubt produced monuments for both groups. This ‘point has been observed by Ernst Kitzinger. In the third and fourth centuries there were probably painters and sculptors who worked for both a Christian and a pagan clientele, and it is small wonder that Christian art borrowed from contem- porary pagan art its style and sometimes even its subject matter. Having been trained in the style of classical sarco- phagi, having already an acquaintance with Orpheus as a pagan symbol of immortality in funerary contexts, and having executed works which represented Mithras 3 . 7 Ernst Kitzinger, Early Medieval Art (London, 1940) ( Pp. 3-50 196 in the tauroctonos position, it is small wonder that the worksh0p artisans would combine pagan materials to depict a deity who had as yet no rigidly fixed iconography, particularly if the patron had no clear ideas himself as to what he wanted for a sarc0phagus. All the features of such a tomb would have the author- ity of classical precedent and none would be so pagan as to be objectionable. Thus the artisans of these sarc0phagi portrayed a Good Shepherd at once familiar and novel. Orpheus in the Catacombs When religious and cultural historians of late antiquity think of Orpheus they are likely to think of the wall paintings of the Roman catacombs which depict him. The reasons for this are not hard to find. These frescoes have been well reproduced in J. Wilpert's great collection of catacomb art, Die Malereienpder Katakomben.Roms (Fribourg, 1903), and have been made accessible in a number of popular works in German, French, Italian, and English. The ardheologist or otherwise interested person can even 197 go to the catacombs and See what remains of the sev- eral pictures which show Orpheus the Good Shepherd sitting or standing among his sheep. Moreover, when such books--I think particularly of De Rossgmand his English revisers, Northcote and Brownlow say anything about the survival of the antique in early Christian art, they usually point out that the first Christians accepted pagan Orpheus into the catacombs because he seemed to them to be a type of Christ. Like the pre- served Chinese duck eggs transmitted from father to son, this generalization has passed from 19th to 20th century writers, neatly contained in its own stone jar. Whether or not the generalization is true, its frequent occurrence coupled with the wide avail- ability of catacomb pictures has given rise to an unbalanced View of Orpheus in early Christian art. Emphasis on these frescoes has been such as to sug- gest that these paintings are the only representa- tions of Orpheus in Christian antiquity--an impres- sion which I hOpe the preceding pages have dispelled. 74Roma Sotterranea, n. 31. 198 Moreover, of all the pictures of the Good Shepherd in the catacombs, the Orpheus frescoes are a very Small minority. These frescoes, though very inter- esting in themselves, represent only one stage in the develOpment of Orpheus iconography in antiquity, and do not occupy a central position in that line of development. Owing perhaps to the wide dispersion of Orpheus monuments throughout EurOpe and the Middle East, and consequently to the difficulty of examining all of them, a good deal of nonsense about these fres- coes has arisen. Max Fraipont, the author of a short monograph, Qgphée agx Catacpmbs (Paris, 1935), has argued that the presence of Orpheus in the catacombs can be ex- plained by the fact that he was, not a Christianized pagan figure employed by the artisans, but rather a symbol of faith in love. He maintains that, since there were many intermarriages between pagans and Christians in the early days of the Church, a pagan widow might use Orpheus as a symbol of her fidelity to her husband. Thus the doves sometimes found with Orpheus in the catacombs are not Christian doves, but rather Venus' birds (p. 24 ff.). Fraipont does not 199 use representations in other media to support his position, nor does he eXplain why Orpheus is always represented with the animals in the catacombs, ra— ther than leading Eurydice up from the underworld. Fraipont's book, it seems to me, is an excellent illustration of the dangers inherent in considering the catacOmb frescoes apart from other Orpheus scenes in antiquity. The following list contains all of the cata- comb frescoes, to my knowledge, which depict Orpheus: The Cemetery of pomitilla. The cen- etral medallion of the ceiling in this cem- etery shows Orpheus playing his lyre to various wild and domestic animals (Fig. 88). In the outer registers of the medal- lion are portrayed various pastoral scenes based on John 10:11-15; Matthew 18:12-14; and Luke 15:4-7, as well as scenes of Moses striking the rock, Daniel with the lions and Christ raising Lazarus. The picture was destroyed and is now known by an 18th- century c0py, which may have made the me- dallion a bit more classical in style than it actually was. The picture has been dated between 150 and 250 A.D.75 A similar paint- ing still exists in the same cemetery (Fig. 89); it has been dated in the 4th century 5For reproductions, see Garrucci, Storia dell' Arte Cristiana (Prato, 1873-81),,P1. 25 and J. Wilpert, p. 55. For dating, see Boulanger, Orphee, p. 149 ff., late, and De Rossi, 39.319 Sotterranea II, p. 355, early. 200 Wilpert, pl. 229). One suspects that perhaps the 18th-century copy reproduced the surviving, rather than the lost, fresco. ' Cemetery of Priscilla. A very much weathered painting on the arcosolium of this catacomb is supposed to have shown Orpheus in the middle of a herd which is guarded by a dog. Both the sheep and the dog listen to him attentively. A fanci- ful drawing exists in De Rossi's collec- tion. Cemetery of Peter and Marcellinug. A painting, much weathered, on the abside of the crypt (Fig. 90) shows Orpheus sur- rounded by six sheep. ‘It has been dated about 250 A.D. (Wilpert, pl. 98). On the face of the crypt are various biblical scenes: the healing of the Paralytic, a baptism, perhaps of Christ, and Moses striking the rock. Cemetery of Callixpgg. The ceiling medallion of this tomb shows Orpheus play ing to two lambs or sheep and two doves (Fig. 91). Around him there are peacocks and sea monsters. The birds were symbols of immortality in Greco-Roman funerary art.77 The sea monsters perhaps represent 76See De Rossi, Bull. D'Archeologia Christi— ana (1887), pl. 6, p. 29 and Wilpert, p. 243. 77Tertullian, De An., 33 and De Resurrect. Carnis V, follows the story of Homer's metamorphosis in the guise of a peacock given by the Latin poet Ennius. The peacock "cauda sidera portat" in Ovid, Mpg, XV, 385. In the Vatican Museum, a peacock on a bust of Pomponia Helpis symbolizes her apotheosis. _ _<- 201 the legend of Jonah. The lyre, with its thick and clumsy frame and cross- piece, suggests the lyre in the tauroc- tonos sarcophagi. This fresco has been dated in the 2nd century A.D. (Wilpert, pl. 37). It is generally agreed that these pastoral scenes of Orpheus show him as the Good Shepherd of the New Testament. More precisely, we should say that the Good Shepherd of the New Testament is shown with the attributes of Orpheus. Visual representations of the Good Shepherd in early Christian art are attempts to create concrete pictures based on the following biblical passages: I am the good shepherd: the good shep- herd giveth his life for his sheep. . . . I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine. . . . I lay down my life for the sheep (John 10:11-15). If a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray? And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep, than of the ninety and nine which went not astray (Matthew 10:12—13). And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbours, say- ing unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost. (Luke 15: 5-6, my emphasis). "WW *— 202 Two types of Good Shepherd picture deve10p from these passages. The first type Shows the Good Shepherd bearing a sheep on his shoulders and often carrying in addition a milk pot or staff. Luke is the only biblical source for this type.' The compo- sition is usually quite symmetrical, as in two fres— coes from the cemetery of Peter and Marcellinus (Fig. 92) and one from the cemetery of Callixtus (Fig. 93). The symmetry of these compositions is characteristic of the western art of the period, as we will recall from our discussion above of the Constantinian style. Of the eighty-eight frescoes of the Good Shepherd in the catacombs, most are of this type. Indeed, the asymmetrical, more narrative and less symbolic style of shepherd which we find in the Christian church at Dura-Europos (Fig. 94) does not occur in the Roman cemeteries.78 The second type, which is very rare in the catacombs, shows the shepherd with his staff or milk- pot standing, or even more rarely sitting, among his 78 . . . C. HOpkins and P. V. C. Baur, The Christian Church at Dura-EurOpos (New Haven, 1934), p. 12 ff. ”...—H- 203 sheep on a slight hillock. Because he does not carry any of them, his literary background would seem to be John and Matthew rather than Luke. Two examples of this second type of Good Shepherd are to be found in the Cemetery of Domitilla (Fig. 95) and in the so—called "Heretical" Cemetery of Aurel- ius (Fig. 96).79 While the sheep-bearing Good Shepherd was inspired both by the New Testament parable and by the actual life of the shepherd, the attitude of the figure and the way it carried the sheep derived from a very ancient type, the mosc0phoros or Hermes- Kriophoros of the Archaic period, and its more re- cent imitators. IThere are some eighty sculptures of the calf- and ram—bearing god still surviving, from the 6th century bronze of the Berlin Museum (Fig. 97) and the marble mosc0phoros from the AcrOp- olis, probably of the same period (Fig. 98), to the Hellenistic copy in Wilton House (Fig. 99). Of the many Christian examples of the Good Shepherd, perhaps 79Published by Carlo Cecchelli, Monpmenpi Cristiano-Eretici di Roma (Rome, 1944). 204 the most famous is the piece in the Lateran Museum (Fig. 100).80 It is even possible that the Parable of the Good Shepherd in the New Testament may owe something to the legend of the kriophoros. Among various legends of animal—bearing gods is the one cited by Pausanias (IX, 22), in which Hermes averted plague from the city by carrying a ram on his shoul- ders. Thus the figure of Hermes-Kriophoros was a savior figure. .Moreover, it was a part of the Mith- raic worship, whose affinity with Christianity has already been mentioned. In the Gildhall Museum, London, is a seated Hermes with a ram by his feet, which dates from about 150 A.D. and came from the Walbrook.Mithraeum. Even the name of the Good Shep- herd himself is not entirely free from pagan elements. 3 ./ In-I Peter 5:4 Christ is called the6ity in ancient and sanctified legends which on the surface were incredible. If we compare Boethius' handling of the Orpheus legend with the allegorical method of the Pseudo—Heraclitus, for example, who wished to vindicate Homer of the charge of impiety, we find striking similarities of approach. The Pseudo-Heraclitus saw the gods of whom Homer spoke as representing various virtues and vices, so that moral qualities were fitted into a complex drama. His assignation of parts, so to speak, was based on Plato's division of the soul into three parts——the mind (VOES), the passions of violence ( 63M7AVC:K)' and the passions of desire (Cg/7i/690"7i¥ ). Thus Athena and Hermes personify mind or wisdom; Ares is the passion of anger; and Aphrodite is the passion of desire. The wise man, in watching the moral drama of the Iliad, learns how to govern his own passions and give reign to mind. Here is how the Pseudo- Heraclitus eXplains the legend of Odysseus: 224 The wanderings of Odysseus, if one locks at them closely, are nothing but a great allegory. Odysseus is an instrument of the virtues with which Homer is concerned. By his agent Homer teadhes wisdom, for he hates the vices of mankind . . . . The savage passion in each of us Odysseus has cauterized, so to Speak, in the finaof his exhortations and has blinded it, and this monster has the name of Cyclops, or the one who robs us of our judgments . . . . Wisdom--that is, Odysseus--descended as far as Hades, in order not to leave any realm of experience uneXplored, even Hell. Although Boethius' poem on Orpheus and Eur- ydice states its moral only at the end, rather than throughout as in the passage above, the use of pagan material for ethical purposes is the same. Boethius' poem is structured somewhat like a sermon, opening with the text to be discussed: "Happy is he who can look into the shining Spring of good; happy is he who can break the heavy chains of earth." The story of the lovers is thus placed in the position of an exemplum and, as we would eXpect, is followed by a summation pointing to the moral which can be drawn from both the exemplum and the text. .ZPseudo-Heraclitus, Alléqories d'Hofiére, ed. F. Buffiere (Paris, 1962), ch. 70. 225 The "text" set at the head of this passage by Boethius is closely related to the moral schema superimposed on the Odyssey by the Pseudo—Heraclitus. Boethius, too, is concerned with divisions of the soul, though here it is a bi- rather than a tri-partite Platonic division. He has just been discussing the importance of unity, both as the natural state of God and as the state toward which all creatures tend. The highest happiness, as PhiloSOphy has shown Boethius, is to be attained only when the soul has purified itself enough to rise and reunite itself with God. While mind, the higher part of the soul, naturally seeks to rejoin the intelligence from whence it came, it is hindered by the weight of the lower part, or earthly desires. The Lady PhiloSOphy, singing this meter, makes a clear distinction between the shining source ("fontem . . . lucidem") of good and the heavy bonds of earth ("gravis/ Terrae . . . vincula"). At the beginning of the meter we learn that heaven, light and mind—-all immaterial things——are opposed to earth, darkness and weight--material things. This theme is 226 one in which Boethius takes considerable interest and one to which he returns several times in the Consola- pgpp, As early as the second meter of Book One he tells how his mind is "dulled, drowned in the over- whelming depths. It wanders in outer darkness, de- prived of its natural light." The state in which Boethius finds himself was not always so. His mind, before his imprisonment and subsequent despondency, used to course the heavens and understand the stars and seasons. Because of concern with material objects, bewever, "now he lies here; bound down with heavy chains, the light of his mind gone out; his head is} bowed down and he is forced to stare at the dull earth." But philoSOphy offers a way for the mind to be free of these chains. It is not in gold or jewels or any material substance that true value is to be found. Men "dig the earth in search of the good which soars above the star-filled heavens" (III, m.8). It is through philosophy that they can reach the home of intellectible values. "My wings are swift,’ says Philosophy, "able to soar beyond the heavens. The quick mind which wears them scorns the hateful earth 227 and climbs above the globe of the immense sky, leav- ing the clouds below" (IV, m.1). In these passages Boethius is develOping a classical commonplace--that man was made so that he could behold the sky or home of reason, while the ir- rational animal, whose nature is associated with the material rather than the Spiritual world, faces the earth as he walks.8 As he wrote the Consolation Boe- thgp§_must have remembered Plato's remarks on this subject. God invented and gave us sight to the end that we might behold the courses of the intelligence in the heavens, and apply them to the courses of our own intelligence which are akin to them, the unperturbed to the perturbed; and that we, learning them and partaking of the natural truth of reason, might imi- tate the absolutely unerring courses of God and regulate our own vagaries. (Tim. Jowett, 47a) Plato's words had also influenced Cicero and Ovid to remark on the upright man (De Nat. II, 56 and Met. I, 84-88), and by the time Boethius wrote of him, homo erectus had become a commonplace: 8The idea that man was homo erectus was thought to be contained in the very word for man, o< Vé/Oiv 7727/ Arnold Williams has noted in The Common Expppippp_(€hapel Hill, 1948), p. 231, that "the Greek anthropos is quite 228 The human race alone lifts its head to heaven and stands erect, deSpising the earth. Man's figure teaches, unless folly has bound you to earth, that you who look upward with your head held high should also raise your soul to sublime things, lest while your body is raised above the earth, your mind should sink to the ground under its burden. (V, m.3) The reason that the soul inclines upwards is that it came originally from the heavens. Boethius be- lieves, in the Consolation, in the pre—existance of souls (III, m.2 and pr.3). His View, based on neo-Pythagorean and stoic ideas, is that the soul descended into the body and that it became heavy enough to stay on earth through the impurities pro- duced by passion and desire. Descending from the Empyrean, the soul grows increasingly impure as it passes through the various planetary Spheres. If, in addition to its naturally acquired impurities, its owner on earth loads it further with material concerns, it can never, or only with the greatest difficulty, ascend again. On the other hand, a pro- per life on earth helps to cleanse the soul of its impurities. generally supposed, on the authority of Plato, to come from the word or phrase--anathreo is the one offered by Plato--meaning look up'at." 229 To Boethius, the story of Orpheus and Euryd- ice expresses the idea of the soul, freed from the bonds of earth and temporalia by a special dispensa- tion and at last moving toward the union with the one, suddenly yielding to the power of a paSSion, in this case epithumia or love, and so giving up its liberty. We will recall that in the story as Boethius and others tell it Orpheus, who is usually presented sympathetically as a wise and talented man, is just at the mouth of hell when he makes his mistake. Boe- thius renders it "the edge of night" (noctis . . . terminos), Ovid as the "margin of upper earth" (Mpg. X, 55); that is, Orpheus is on the brink of seeing the light of heaven after the darkness of the infer- nal regions. He is, then, leaving the material sub- stance, dark earth, and moving towards the immaterial heaven. For Boethius the fable of Orpheus is monitory; it warns uS of the power of the passions over the upper part of the soul- Orpheus represents the human soul fleeing the body and the earth but dragged back by his inability to reject temporalia--his love for Eurydice. 230 The Commentators on Boethius' Consolation Medieval commentators on the Consolation of Boethius attempted to make Orpheus and Eurydice into real peOple--to show them as concerned with the same problems as those which confronted the reader of their own time. Two strains of the Orpheus legend grew out of this effort. The more prevalent strain was ethical and represented an attempt on the part of the commen- tators to find moral precepts in the story which would make it an improving and timely one. The second strain, less prominent, was characterized by an interest in Orpheus and Eurydice as true lovers or as romance hero and heroine following the precepts of courtly lovers. This strain was to become more wideSpread in literary treatments of the Orpheus myth. It culmin— ated, in the Middle Ages, in the romance Sir Orfeo and in Robert Henryson's "Orpheus and Eurydice," which we Shall consider in the last chapter of this study. Generally those commentaries which place Orpheus above Eurydice, either in his capacity as a husband or as a moral example, tend to be in the more ethical tradition, 231 and those which see them as equal, or even with Eur- ydice as the superior of Orpheus, tend to be in the romance tradition. I have limited my discussion of these two traditions in the commentaries to authors who, in dealing with the story of Orpheus given by Boethius, made some major contribution to the legend. The com- mentators I shall consider here are: Remigius of Auxerre, Notker Labeo, William of Conches, Nicholas Trivet, two anonymous Italian translators of the Egg- solation, an anonymous French translator of the school of Jean de Meun, and finally, the French translator Peter of Paris. All of these writers were in one way or another reSponsible for the medieval Orpheus who differs very much from his Hellenic or Hellenistic prototype. Remiqigpygf Auxerre. The first extant medieval writer to comment directly on the Orpheus meter of Boe- thius, Remy or Remigius of Auxerre, wrote his commen- tary on the Consolation about 904 A.D. Remigius was a Burgundian relative of Lupus of Ferrieres and a pu- pil of Heric in the Benedictine house of St. Germain 232 at Auxerre. He taught at Reims for a time, went to Paris where he was probably connected with the monas- tery of St. Germain—des—Pres, and probably died at Lorraine in the first decade of the 10th century.9 In addition to his work on Boethius he wrote commen— taries on Sedulius, Martianus Capella, Juvenal, Avi- anus, Cato, Persius and possibly Prudentius.lO The Boethius commentary exists in a number of anonymous manuscripts, but in Treves 1093, a manuscript of the 11th century, it is specifically attributed to Rem— igius by the scribe, "Incipit eXpositio in libro Boetii de Consolatione Phylosophiae Remigii." Pierre Courcelle is of the opinion that it is definitely by him,11 although at one time this commentary was thought 9See H. Stewart, "A Commentary by Remigius . . ." JTS XVII (1915), pp. 23-24. 10On this last attribution, see the discussion by E. K. Rand in his edition of the commentary in Quellen und Untersuchpnqen zpr Lateinische Philologie des Mittelalterg I, 2 (1906). , lPierre Courcelle, "Etude Critique sur 1es Commentaires de la ’Consolation' de Boece," Archives d'Hiptoire Doctrinale et Litt_raire du Mo en A e XII (1939), pp. 12-16. 233 to be the work of Johannes Scotus and was edited and printed as such by E. T. Silk in 1935.12 Remigius' discussion of Book Three of the Consolgtion is not so much an extended commentary as it is a series of glosses on particular passages. The mythological glosses, of most concern for us here, like those throughout the work are drawn from a wide variety of ancient authors, among whom are Avianus, Cato, Cicero, Juvenal, Hyginus, Lucan, Ovid, Pacuvius, Persius, Plautus, Ptolemy, Solinus, Suetonius, Virgil, Claudian, Sedulius,Amgustine, Jerome, Gregory of Nazi- anzen and John Chrysostom, though it must not be assumed that Remigius had a first-hand acquaintance with the works of all of these authors; he may have had access to them only in florilegia. Remigius also borrowed heavily from the commentaries of Servius on the poems 12E. T. Silk, ed. Saeculi Noni Auctoris in Boetii Consolationem Philos0phiae CommentariusI Papers and Monographs of‘the American Academv_in Rome IX (1935). The question of Scotus' authorship of this commentary is an involved one and need not detain us here. In "Pseudo-Johannes Scotus . . . and the Early Commentaries on Boethius," Medievgl_ang:Renaissance Studies III (1954) Silk abandoned his attribution of this commentary to Scotus. His original arguments were effectively rebutted by Courcelle, ”Etude," pp. 21 ff., who gives further bib- liography on the controversy. 234 of Virgil and drew much of his etymological infor— mation and natural history from Isidore's Etymolo— gig_.l3 In addition he very likely made use of one or more commentaries on the Consolation written in the 9th century, which have not survived. Remigius Opens his discussion of the Orpheus meter by telling the reader: This song is a fable and it praises above all others those who, having laid aside carnal desires, raise themselves to the light of true blessedness. And this fable warns us that no One Shpuld look backward after he once finds the place where the true good is situated, or after finding the highest good. Now [God] esteems and commends those happy ones who can come to his brightness. That song, on the other hand, speaks to those who, after they have acknowledged the way of truth and advanced further on it, return to hu— man desires and thus ruin the work they have begun. Just so, Orpheus lost his wife from looking backwards. (Silk, Saeggli Noni, p. 217) Remigius has added the idea of a God (eius claritatem) where his author has a more general heaven, but al- though he mentions Orpheus at the end of the gloss, he has not made of the story a vehicle for the ideas l3"Etude,” p. 16. See also Courcelle's "La Culture Antique de Remi d'Auxerre,” Qgppmgg VII (1948), pp. 252-53. 235 he advances in his interpretation. Remigius does not seem to be following any other commentator in this passage, but rather tries to eXplain it him- self.14 Next Remigius supplies the background infor- mation that Orpheus was a harper whose wife, beloved by Aristeus, was killed in a wild place. Although there is no mention of a serpent in the version printed by Silk, differences in wording in other manuscripts (gyg. B. N. Lat. 15090) suggest that this detail may occur in other versions of this com- mentary. He then retells the fable, simplifying and elaborating upon his original. On the powers of 14The Old English translation of Boethius by King Alfred gives a very similar elaboration of the moralitas: "These fables teach every man that would flee the darkness of hell and come to the light of the True Goodness that he should not look towards his old sins, so as again to commit them as fully as he once did. For whosoever with entire will turneth his mind back to the sins he hath left, and then do- eth them and taketh full pleasure in them, and never after thinketh of forsaking them, that man shall lose all his former goodness, unless he repent." W; J. Sedgefield, tr., King Alfred's Version_gf the Congge lations of Boethius (Oxford, 1900), P. 118. Though there are many interesting expansions and additions to the meter in Alfred's version, they have princi— pally to dO‘With the romance tradition and will be considered further on. 236 Orpheus' music he explains that, . . . Orpheus is reported to have made the woods run and the waters stand still because he was a theologian and led men from wild ways to a civilized life. (Silk, Saeculi Noni, p. 217) He may have gotten this interpretation of Orpheus as a civilizing force from Horace (Apgpg. I, 392) or from Maximus of Tyre, both of whom, it will be recalled, offered this Euhemeristic interpretation. As Remigius goes over the story, he describes in his own words the descent to Hades, the beauty of Orpheus' song there, the pact with the gods of the underworld, and the loss of Eurydice when he looks back. Occasionally he offers a common-sense ex- planation for a puzzling point, such as Boethius' use of the word impppens to describe Orpheus' grief. He says, "it is a natural thing as when those who are sad about insignificant things give themselves up entirely to grief and therefore add powerlessness to their exaggerated sorrows" (Silk, Saeculi Noni, p..218). Remigius also has recourse to the physico- moral interpretations of myth which we saw in the 237 work of the Pseudo-Heraclitus. Since Tityus is men- tioned by Boethius, Remigius must tell who he is and why he was punished in hell by having vultures pluck at his liver eternally. By Tityus is to be understood lustful men (luxuriosi). For the liver is the seat of lust just as the seat of laugh- ter is the Spleen and that of anger is the gall bladder. The liver of Tityus, therefore, is said to be eternally re- born, because lust once satisfied is not extinguished but marvelously-. . . is rekindled. (Silk, Saeculi Noni, p. 219). This is an explanation which would be helpful to the student trained in the Galenic physiology of the per- iod and which at the same time makes the mythological Tityus into the more general vice of lust, as Ares was made the passion of anger by the Pseudo-Heraclitus. In addition to such late antique methods, Rem- igius uses the peculiarly medieval device of etymol- ogical interpretation. Few reference works were avail- able to the medieval student of classical texts, a fact which may in part eXplain the wideSpread prac- tice of trying to derive the meanings of a myth from the names of its mythological characters. The main authorities for this technique were Fulgentius, an 238 African grammarian of the 6th century A.D., and St. Isidore of Seville. Fulgentius' Mitoloqiae inter— preted ancient stories according to the Greek ety- mologies of their names, for example, "Orpheus from oreayphone, that is best voice" (Mlpgl. III, 10, Helm, p. 77), while Isidore's encyclopaedia of all human knowledge, the Etymplggiae, was based on the principle that the true nature of a thing could be gotten from its name. In the commentary printed by Silk, Remigius applies the etymological method not to the name Orpheus, but to other words such as Taenara, a name for the un- derworld, which he reads as Trenara. "Lamentations and sad songs are called Trenara, for ppppp in Greek is lamentation in Latin“ (Silk, Saeculi Noni, p. 2181. Remigius' commentary is a straightforward, practical one, obviously intended for school use. His main concern is to use any means he can to clear up difficult passages and at the same time Christian- ize his pagan material. The commentator does not show a very high level of philosophical sophistication--for example he does not grasp the Platonism of Boethius' moralitas very well--but his text would have been 239 eminently suitable for use in a cathedral school and would certainly have helped to disseminate the Orpheus legend by making it accessible to the student and at the same time making it of contemporary importance. Notker Lappg (d. 1022). Notker Labeo, nick— named Notker the Lip to distinguish him from another Notker the Stammerer, wrote a work which, while not strictly a commentary on Boethius' Conpplation, re- quires that he be included in our group of commentat- ors. Notker was perhaps the first person to translate Martianus Capella and Boethius into Old High German. His translation of Boethius' meter on Orpheus is of interest to us partly because it Shows the influence of Remigius, but even more because it uses a passage from the Bible to help eXplain the legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Notker's method, in his translation, is to give several lines of the meter in Latin and then to translate them into German prose, sometimes eXpanding upon his original by a Latin gloss, some- times exPanding his German text. Almost always his amplifications and eXplana— tions are intelligent, helpful and practical. His 240 concern is to help the reader rather than to display his classical erudition. He tells the student that when Boethius says "break the heavy chains of earth" he means "to conquer the burden of the flesh" (sar- cinam carnis vincere).15 Notker explains that Cer- berus is the dog of hell and that when he is entranced it is by Orpheus' "new song“ (p. 223, 22-3). Occa- sionally he supplies the reader with mythological matter external to the meter. The "arbiter of the shades" is Vulcan, and Pluto is "wealth" (p. 224, 20-1). He adds tags from Virgil, as well as proverbs, both Latin and German to explain and to amplify Boe- thius' discussion of the power of love, and he ex— plains that when Boethius Speaks in the moralitas of those who raise their minds to the day above, he is speaking of those who concentrate on God (p. 225, 8). Notker follows the commentary of Remigius almost verbatim in several Spots, both in his Latin, and in his German glosses. He Speaks of those 15Paul Piper ed. Die Schriften Notkers und Seiner Schule (Freiburg and Teubingen, 1882) I, 222, 22. 241 condemned to hell for following after temporalia as “sectatores" (p. 224, 5) while Remigius calls them "sectantes" (Silk, Saeculi Noni, p. 219). Notker supplies the same background information on the crime for which Tantalus was punished as did Remigius, though he adds his own moral to the fable: "A man can do no better than to taste God? (p. 224, ll—12). When reading of how the vultures ate the liver of Tityus, the student Should be reminded, Notker says, that "the seat of lust is in the liver and once lust is satisfied, it is not extinquished, but rekindles again" (p. 224, 18—20). His words: "Quia libido cuius sedes est in iecore, semel expleta non extin- guitur! sed recrudescit iterum" are identical to Remigius' explanation in the first clause and very similar in the second. The most interesting part of Notker's tran- slation of the meter on Orpheus is his last few words. He explains that Boethius' moral precept that the man who looks back loses all the good he has won is according to a passage in Luke 9:62. The evangelist says that "No man, having put his hand to the plough, 242 and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." Notker's translation has the same.pragmatic quality and moral insistence which we noted in Remigius. Again, it would seem as though Notker did his work for the use of students who knew little Latin. His concern is to make the meter live for the student-- thus his use of proverbs and a biblical passage which would be part of the student's working vocabulary. If the Bible can supply a helpful explanation of a passage from pagan myth, why not use it, Notker might have said; after all it fixes both the biblical pass- age and the pagan legend more firmly in the student's mind. Notker, like any intelligent, interested rea- der, brought to his reading whatever seemed applicable or parallel from his own background. Thus, for him to turn to a biblical statement which seemed to echo the moral stated by Boethius seems entirely natural. But as his own background did not include a famili- arity with Boethius' late classical environment, and certainly did not include a knowledge of the philo- sophic tradition in which Boethius was writing, his 243 remarks, like those of many medieval authors, seem at two or three removes from the text, or have an air of having missed Boethius' point. This distance from the text, already noticeable in the Carolingian period, was to evolve into a veritable re-creation of texts--in the image of the medieval mind--in the work of the Platonist, William of Conches. William of Conches (1080-1145). Between the very early 10th century and the 12th century, if we except the glosses of Notker Labeo, there was, to my knowledge, no new commentary on the Congplation of Philosophy. Instead, Remigius' work appears to have been the standard work used in the schools which taught Boethius as one of the auctores. During the 12th cen- tury, however, Remigius' commentary was gradually re— placed by a new one written by William of Conches. William was associated with the cathedral school of Chartres, where that flourishing interest in classical literature known as the "12th century Renaissance" had its inception. Scholars at Chartres appear to have known more Greek than was common elsewhere in western Europe and they also seem to have worked 244 actively with Latin translations of Plato. One of their sources for Plato's thought was Boethius' Con- gplationggf,Philo§ophy. William's interpretation of the twelfth meter of Book Three, while owing something to Remigius' commentary, was essentially a new work and drew on a wide variety of sources. Moreover, William's work, unlike that of his predecessors, was an extended com- mentary, rather than a series of glosses on difficult parts of the meter, focusing more directly on the moral meaning and less on the historical or mytho- logical background. William begins his commentary by outlining the moral meaning of the myth: [Here is] the allegory (integumentum) of Orpheus. He [Boethius] proves that as long as the attention is occupied with temporal things, one can neither know nor delight in the highest good and this is revealed by the story of Orpheus. William, in contradistinction to Remigius and Notker, seizes immediately upon the point of the meter and 16The text of William's commentary used here is that of MS TrOyes 1381, printed in part by Edouard Jeauneau in his "Integumentum chez Guillaume de Conches' Archives d' Histoire Doctrinale et Litteraire du Moyen AleXXI (1957) F01. 69r, p. 45. 245 the reason for its being in the Congolation at all. Like Pseudo-Heraclitus, Philo and Clement before him, William is both a Platonist and a defender of the text he is eXplaining. His use of the word "integu- mentum"--a term which in the Middle Ages meant some- thing similar to allegory--makes a distinction at the outset between the outer covering, what we might call the plot of the Orpheus fable, and the nucleus or inner philosophical truth of it. William, who was much more interested in the philosophical meaning of his text than were Remigius and Notker, consciously employs the method of moral exegesis which we saw earlier in the Alexandrian Platonists. He sounds very much like the Pseudo—Heraclitus and Philo as he chides people who do not read fables allegoric- ally. At first, certain wise men, seeing the fable of Orpheus, wished to under- stand its allegory; nor was it believed of so perfect a philosopher, namely Boe- thius, that he would have placed anything superfluous or meaningless in such a per- fect work. But our [modern] chattering magpies, knowing nothing of philosophy and therefore ignorant of the significance of allegory; being ashamed to say ”I do not know" and seeking solace in their 246 ignorance, said that trying to eXpound this fable were a vain deceit . . . . We, however, are not like them, and it seems to us that we Should ex lain this allegory. (Fol. 69r, p. 45)1 After this introduction, William proceeds in an orderly manner to tell the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, using the more Virgilian account with the story of Aristeus. His outline is concise but gives the whole story in a literal fashion. He con- cludes this section of his commentary: ”First it is necessary to eXplain this allegory, then singly those things which are in the book" (Fol. 69v, p. 46). His commentary on the meaning of Orpheus' descent is suf- ficiently interesting to deserve being quoted in its entirety. What does Orpheus represent? He stands for wisdom and eloquence and because of that he is called Oreaphopg--that is, best voice. Eurydice is his wife--she is that 7Compare with this View the following passage from the Pseudo-Heraclitus: "If there are certain men who, through ignorance, do not understand the allegor- ical language of Homer, and who do not know how to penetrate to the inmost reaches of his wisdom, who are obtuse and incapable of discerning the truth and reject it; who do not understand the philos'0phic sense of myth and concern themselves with the surface appearances of the fiction, let these men get out of our path." Ch.3. 247 natural concupiscence which is part of every one of us and no one can be without her--not even a child on the first day of its life. The poets imagineihis human desire to be a kind of god or attendant Spirit (genius) which is born and dies with every one. Genius is a natural de- sire and Eurydice is rightly named. She is the judgement of good (boni judicatio), because what every one thinks is good, whether it be so or not, he desires. This natural concupiscence or human desire, when it wandered through a field, was be- loved by Aristeus. Aristeus stands for virtue, for ares is excellence. This ex- cellence fell in love with Eurydice, that is, human desire, when she wandered through a meadow, that is, over the earth, which is sometimes green and sometimes dry. Aristeus loved her, that is, he followed her, because excellence always tries to raise human desire aloft from earthly things. But Eurydice fled Aristeus be- cause desire struggles with Virtue; wish- ing its own pleasure, which is contrary to the way of excellence. But then she died and descended to the underworld, that is, to earthly delights. His wife having died, Orpheus mourned, because when a wise man sees his attention and pleasure controlled by temporalia, he is diSpleased. Though he conquered all by his music, he did not conquer his grief for his lost wife, because however much a wise man overcomes the vices of others by his wisdom and eloquence, he cannot always withdraw his own desires from the graSp of temporalia and for this reason Orpheus greatly mourned. Then Orpheus descended to the underworld in order to bring back his wife, just as the wise man must descend to a knowledge of earthly things in order to see that there is nothing of 248 value in them before he can free himself from human desire. But one ought not, as Orpheus did, return to those things because "No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." (Fol. 69v, p. 46) It will be seen that this passage owes little to the commentary of Remigius. First, William applies the etymological method of interpretation to the names of Orpheus and Eurydice themselves, following Fulgen- tius in this. He sees in these names the moral quali- ties the characters are supposed to represent. -The first part of his interpretation derives then from Fulgentius, but William goes much farther and in a different direction than the African grammarian had. William acknowledges his indebtedness to Fulgentius' Mitologiae but says that their explanations of the myth of Orpheus differ in many particulars. If certain peOple who have read Fulgen- tius see that he has eXplained the fable of Orpheus in another way, they should' not condemn our interpretation on this account, because, though treating of the same book, various authors arrive at dif- ferent interpretations. (Fol. 69v, p. 47) Remigius rarely acknowledged the sources he borrowed from and never suggested that there were many possible interpretations of a given myth which could have equal 249 validity. Another way in which William's commentary differs from that of his predecessor is in its es- pousal, again deriving from Fulgentius, of the pri— macy of the Apppp, In the African's interpretation of the names of Orpheus and Eurydice--"Orpheus, that is, from orea,phone or best voice and Eurydice, that is profound judgement" (loc. cit.), Fulgentius had wished to extoll the arts and to point out how they were to be found in the ancient stories. Fulgentius said that music, for example, was designated by the fable of Orpheus. ' But William Shows the power of the arts in, relation to the soul of man. His concern is to drama? tize in Platonic terms, the conflict between.ppg§ and thumos-epithumia which he perceives in the Consolation. Thus the fable of Orpheus, besides being an allegory of the Artes, becomes an allegory of the soul of man and of how the soul is affected by the Artes. And Orpheus and Eurydice thus embody the abstract compon- ents of the soul almost as allegorical characters stand for virtues and vices in a morality play or as Orgoglio and Timias both by their names and by 250 their actions stand for certain moral qualities in Spenser's Faery Queene. In William's commentary on the Consolation, as J. Hatinguais has noted, Orpheus and Eurydice, aided by the power of music and eloquence, appear in adr ama of knowledge and will which move confusedly but invincibly towards the Good."18 William it is interesting to note, makes no attempt to place the legend in a Christian context; though the Platon- ism of Boethius and William is not antithetical to Christianity, the commentator eXplains the myth in purely Platonic, even humanistic terms, excepting the closing of the story by the noral tag from Luke, which he may have got from Notker. By the 12th century, William's commentary, owing to the great interest in Platonism, and hence in Boethius as a Latin transmitter of it, had replaced the commentary of Remigius and had become the more or less official school commentary (Etude, pp. 78-91) just as Boethius had become one of the official auc- tores of the schools. An auctor in the Middle Ages l ' \ 1 8J. Hatinguais, "En Marge d' un Poeme de Boece: 1' Interpretation Allegorique du Mythe d' Orphee par Guil- laume de Conches," Association Guillaume Bude: Congres de Tours et Poiters (September, 1953), p. 286. 251 was a man who was considered an authority in the kind of literature he wrote and a model to be imitated both for style and substance. A list compiled by Conrad of Hirsau gives some of the auctores who were taught in the schools of his day. It included Donatus, Cato, AesoP, Avianus, Sedulius,Juvencus, Prosper, Theodulus, Arator, Prudentius, Cicero, Sallust, Lucan, Horace, Ovid, Juvenal, the Latin Homer, Persius, Statius, Vir- gil, and Boethius.19 It is interesting to note that some of these authors are men we would call "classi— cal" and might think worthy of imitation; others are late antique or early medieval writers whose only ap— parent value seems to be their espousal of Christian doctrine, but to the Middle Ages they were venerandi: men to be revered and imitated. An auctor like Boethius would have been stud- ied in the 12th century somewhat like this. First, the master would go over an accessus ad auctores, a kind of outline sometimes incorporated in manuscripts of classical authors in the Middle Ages. The accessus 19131310 3 su er Auctores sive Didascalion, ed. G. Scheppss (Wurtzburg, 1889). 252 was concerned with such matters as the author's life --this is why many Boethius MSS have a Vita Boetii at the beginning--, why the author's work was titled as it was, the reason the author wrote the work, What the student could learn from it, and what parts were philosophical. Such schema were commonly used to give the students a short and memorable handle to a long and complex work-—rather like a modern plot outline for King,Lea£r-being dictated to the students by the master so that each member of the class could have such an accessus for each author studied.20 After the accessus, the lectio or general discussion of the work usually followed. The teacher explained and interpreted (expositio) the work for the pupils. There were three sorts of pgpositiones, 1) according to the word (littera) 2) according to the evident or narrative meaning (ggpgpg) and 3) 20See Edwin Quain, ”Medieval Accessus ad Auc- tores" Traditio (1954). See also G. Paré et al., pg Renaissance dp;XIIe Siecle: Leg Eépleg etyEpgeiqne- ment (Paris and Ottawa, 1933), p. 99f. Servius, in the preface to his exposition of the Aeneid says that we should consider the following points when interpret- ing an author: his life, the title of the work, the genre, the intention, the number of books and their order. 253 according to the spiritual or philosoPhical meaning (sententia).21 William's commentary on the twelfth meter of Book Three is, of course, an example of the lectio ad sententigm, for as he sees it, the meter teaches philosophy and needs to be interpreted spir- itually rather than grammatically or narratively. By his reverence for Boethius as a classical author and by his attempt to come to terms with Boe- thius' thought William shows himself to be writing in the humanistic tradition of the School of Chartres. He sees in this meter an ethical lesson, spending very little time on matters which interested Remigius and Notker and much on matters which they were not equipped to handle. His commentary is a sustained, imaginative interpretation, of considerable worth in its own right and certainly close to the Platonic ideas of conduct which Boethius was trying to express. In William's commentary, secular and pagan philosophy 21Hugh of St. Victor, in his manual on the art of teaching, eXplainS this system clearly. "EXpositio tria continet: litteram, sensum, sententiam. Littera est congrua ordinatio dictionem, quam etiam construc- tionem vocamus. Sensus est facilis quaedam et aperta significatio . . . Sententia est profundior intelli- gentia." giggpgglipp III, 9, g; 175, 771. 254 have as high a place as, perhaps, the precepts of the biblical prophets. Nicholas Tpivetid. 1334). This author com— mented on the Consolation some time before 1307,22 and his work, judging from the number of extant man— uscripts, became perhaps the most widely known of Boethius commentaries. Nicholas used much of Wil- liam's work, though without giving credit to his source, and he does not always seem to have under- stood William very well. He is less interested in explaining the sententia of the Orpheus meter than in writing a school gloss. His work is of interest to us mainly for its influence on Robert Henryson's poem "Orpheus and Eurydice." Beryl Smalley tells us that Trivet was the son of a knight, a student at Oxford, and a Dominican.23 Apparently he was a very industrious man, as he wrote commentaries on Virgil, St. Augustine's City ofngg, Livy, Cicero, Seneca's plays, Juvenal and Boethius. .rv 22 ll ’ ll Courcelle, Etude, p. 97. 23Beryl Smalley, English Friars and Anti— guity in the Early Fourteenth Centggy (Oxford, 1960), pp. 58-59. 255 Trivet's commentary on the Orpheus meter in the Consolation is quite long, but much of it is taken up with the explanation of the topography of the un- derworld and other matters which do not directly con- cern Orpheus. In the main, Trivet's explanation of the fable derives from William of Conches. By Orpheus we should understand the part of the intellect which is instructed in wisdom and intelligence; whence he is said to be the son of Phoebus and Calliope, who is one of the Nine Muses, so called from calo, that is beautiful . . . sound because She represents eloquence . . . and Phoebus, the god of wisdom, because he in- structed Orpheus in wisdom. Orpheus, how- ever, by his sweet lyre, that is his elo- quence, led men from brute ways to civil— ization . . . . Eurydice is his wife-— that is the passional side (pars affective) which desires to join with him. By Aristeus we should understand Virtue. But Eurydice, as she fled through the meadow, that is the folly of present life, trod on a serpent, not crushing it but casting herself down, that is joining herself to the sensuality by which she is bitten, and dies. Thus Orpheus descends to hell, that is gives himself over to earthly cares. Orpheus, that is the intellect, thought to carry her off by beautiful music which would appease the gods--for by sweet eloquence joined to wisdom one ascends to heaven. Such an ascent was difficult, however, for she must be drawn up through the many delights which impede virtue when it would ascend. Thus Virgil: ”To recall thy steps 256 and pass out to the upper air, this is the task, this is the toil. Some few, whom kindly Jupiter has loved or shining worth uplifted to heaven, sons of the gods, have availed (Aen. VI, 128- 24 " ‘ 131). Though much of this passage simply copies William, there are some interesting additions by Nicholas himself. If William represented Plato in commenting on Boethius, Trivet represents Aristotle. He is not very interested in myth for its own sake and advances the rationalist eXplanation of Orpheus as a civilizing force which we saw in the Remigius commentary. For Nicholas, the philOSOphical valid— ity of the myth is to be found in its foreshadowing of the power of the Artes——particularly as it deals -with.§apientia et eloquentia, the powers by which Orpheus hOped to triumph over the gods of the under— world. Though Trivet looks at the myth as a scholas- tic might, there are traces of humanist interest in his interpretation. He has a humanist's desire to display classical erudition. The famous tag from Virgil which Nicholas brings to the story of Orpheus 24My translation of Trivet's commentary is based on the text of B. N. Lat. 18424, Fol. 101 r/v. 257 -—and which he would naturally think of as he had written a commentary on the Aeneid—-allows him to talk about one classical story in terms of another, bringing together Aeneas and Orpheus as two voyagers to the underworld. Excepting a brief reference to Virgil in Notker's translation of the meter, the only other medieval writer to connect Orpheus and Aeneas in this way is the 14th-century Italian human- ist Albertino Mussato.25 Also of note is Nicholas' use of the idea of an ascensus as well as a descen- sus. Orpheus and the power of his lyre to draw the soul to the heavens were mentioned in the work pypg referred to by Varro and discussed earlier, but the idea is not a popular one in medieval discussions of Orpheus, and only in Henryson's "Orpheus and Eur- ydice” is much capital made of it. Aside from these points, however, Nicholas' work is rather dull, more of a school gloss than an extended commentary. The ending of his discussion of the Boethian moralitas is simply a paraphrase rather than an interpretation. 25See Epistola IX in Qpera (Venice, 1635), p. 57. 258 Then when he says this fable applies to you he means that whoever has acquired good by means of wisdom loses it when he sees hell, that is when his attention is fixed on earth and on temporal things which are lowly. (Fol. 102v) A commentary on Boethius, indebted to Trivet and often, though incorrectly, attributed to Thomas Aquinas, deserves to be mentioned here. This work is in part a slavish imitation of Trivet and uses his very words, but more generally is the most prim- itive kind of school commentary or prose paraphrase. The author sees nothing of interest in the Orpheus legend, but takes advantage of the meter to make use of Aristotle in eXplaining Boethius' View of the soul. I have not seen Aristotle used directlyjn other com- mentaries on the meter. The commentary in question - . . 26 is probably of 15th-century origin. Italian and French Commentators. There are a number of Italian and French translators of the Consolation of Philosophy who are of varying interest 26The commentary may be found in Boetius De Philosophico Consolatu . . . cum Figpris Ornatissimis Noviter Expolitus (Johannes Gruniger, Strasbourg, 1501), fol. LXXXIII r/v, where it is attributed to Aquinas. Kate 0. Petersen, ”Chaucer and Trivet," EMEA_XVIII (1903), discusses the dating of the pseudo- Aquinas commentary. 259 for the Study of medieval views of the Orpheus meter. Adding material to their translations, some of these men follow Fulgentius, some Trivet, some William of Conches.27 A few examples should suffice to Show the nature of such additions. The Italians follow Trivet very closely, reducing his long commentary to easily memorable interpretations. One of the translators says that Orpheus is "la parte intelle- tiva dell'uomo amaestrata dala sapientia et dala eloquentia," while Eurydice is "parte effectiva [sic]" (Cod. Ricc. 1540, Fol. 69r/v). With minor differences in wording, the other translator repeats this explan- ation, adding that Aristeus is "virtue" (B. N. Ital. 439, Fol. 68r/V). About 1285 an anonymous writer associated with the translation of Boethius by Jean de Meun was much intrigued with the Orpheus meter, translating its verses into very literal French and eXplaining them morally. Much of his interpretative material, for 7The interested reader is directed to the thorough study of the French translators by A. Thomas and M. Roques, "Traductions Francaises de la Consola- tion Philos0phiae de Boéce,” Histoire Littéraire de la France XXXXVII (1938). 260 example his discussion of Ixion, he draws from Ful- gentius. When he comes to the mention of Orpheus by name, he develOps the Fulgentian allegory of the Artes. . . . Fabius Planciades [Fulgentius said] . . . this fable of Orpheus involves song and the art of music . . . . thanks to music, the passions of wild beasts are gentled.28 He follows Trivet in using Aeneas' adventures in Hades as explanatory material (fol. 48b) and is not above a little concern for maisterye: Thus, it seems to me, Orpheus and Eurydice bring themselves together by marriage, as 1 when beautiful voices are harmonious to- gether, reason and judgment are in tune when the husband is Orpheus. (Fol. 48 r/v) All told, this anonymous writer manages to eXpand the 58 lines of Boethius' meter into 1238 of his own. Another anonymous author translates William's explanation directly into his French version of Boe- thius: Orpheus est homme sage et bien parlant. Eurydice est naturele concupiscence qui a chacun tant comme i1 vit naturelement et sans department est coniointe. Aris- 28Text in B. N. Fr. 576, Fol. 48c. 261 teus est la vertu divine. (B. N. Fr. 575, Fol. 69r). But the most interesting of these translators is Peter of Paris, who wrote his version of the Con- 9 . . solation about 1309.2 Peter is of importance to us primarily because some of his unlearned elaborations of the Orpheus legend Show the increase of romance elements in the legend, as more and moms writers try to explain it in terms of medieval interests. He tells in the fable of a man who is called Orpheus, and he was the son of a goddess who was a great enchantress and this goddess was called CalliOpe. This Calliope lived near a beautiful fountain and she taught her son Orpheus to sing and he became one of the best Singers in the world. And thus, as a certain author tells us in the Histories [Metamorphoses?], he sang so beautifully that the trees danced and moved to his song. (pp. 69-70) Peter goes on with the story from Ovid for a time and then adds the startling information that Orpheus' wife became such a shrew that he killed her and then pined for her and sought her in hell (pp. 69-70). He gives the standard Virgilian and Ovidian eXplana- tory glosses of Boethius' story, after which he eXplains 29This translation and commentary has been edited by Antoine Thomas, “Notice sur la Manuscrit Latin 4788 du Vatican Contenant une Traduction Francaise, avec Com- mentaire per Maitre Pierre de Paris," Notices et Extraits W XLI (1923) 262 that the gods of the underworld were enchanted by Orpheus' singing and agreed to let him have his wife "Urrices" but decreed that he would be blind forever. Orpheus, in Spite of this misfortune, appears to lead his Wife away from the underworld successfully, and Peter finishes the tale with an explanation of Boe- thiuS' moralitas.30 Commentators on the Metamogphoses of Ovid If the Consolation of Boethius was the main source for the Middle Ages of Antique philosophy, the Metamorphoses of Ovid provided the Middle Ages with its richest treasurehouse of classical legend. 30Other additons and comparisons of a very un-Boethian nature begin to appear in the legend about this time. In the Conches manuscript discussed above there is an interesting anonymous gloss, "read here that you should not look back, for if you look back you will lose the best, just as Orpheus did and just as you would censure Lot's wife" (Fol. 39r). D Dionysius explains that according "to the spiritual explanation, by Orpheus the son of Apollo we should understand any wise Christian. . . . re— generated by baptism he becames a servant of God, 263 Owing to clerical hostility towards Ovid as the wri- ter of licentious tales, as well as to the difficulty and sophistication of his verse and subject matter, there seems to have been little knowledge of, or in- terest in, Ovid from late antiquity through the early Middle Ages. He became an accepted auctor in the schools during the 12th century,31 and his subsequent rise in popularity paralleled the growing interest of the times in a secular literature of amusement. By the 14th century his influence on both Latin and ver- nacular literature had equalled, if not surpassed, that of Boethius, and judging only from the number of Ovid commentaries written, this pOpularity was not to wane until well into the 17th century, if ever. Just as we saw a desire to make Boethius a medieval author--concerned with the things which a to whom he leads his wife, that is his own flesh and its innate concupiscence, perpetually joined to it . . ." (Dionysii Cartusiani Qpera Omnia (Tornaci, 1906) xxxxv, p. 431. 31 Ovid's Metamorphoses and other poems are mentioned as school texts in the curricula of Conrad of Hirsau (c. 1150), Alexander Neckham (c. 1175) and Eberhardt the German (c. 1250). For a complete list of such curricula see E. R. Curtius, EurOpean Liter- ature in the Latin Middle A es, English ed. (New York, 1953). pp. 49-50. 264 man of the 13th century might reasonably be interes— ted in--Ovid, too, was dressed in medieval clothes, though generally in art more than in literature. His myths were explained, allegorically or otherwise, to make them accord with medieval ideas, and even his name, Ovidius Naso, was subjected to the etymol- ogical method of interpretation: he was called Naso "ex naggni§"--because he had a big nose. Commentators on the Consolation of Boethius explained the allusions to Orpheus and to other class- ical figures incidentally; they were mainly concerned with the ethics or philOSOphy of the work. Commenta- tors on the Metamorphoses, however, dealt specifically with mythology and were very little concerned with the Pythagoreanism, for example, of the first and last books of the poem. While men of the 12th cen- tury had no trouble imagining demons, spirits, and other supernatural beings in medieval dress, they were a bit more suspicious of the existence of these beings in antiquity. The Euhemerist commentator might 'exPlain" the marvellous deeds of the gods by pointing out that they could be described in human terms which 265 were, therefore, much more credible. Thus Vulcan was simply a man deified or regarded as a god because he was the inventor of fire and metal-working. Some commentators took a more allegorical view of the fables and tried to indicate that Ovid, consciously or uncon- sciously, was presenting Christian doctrine in pagan disguise, and that once the Christian significance of the fables was determined, the pious student or other reader could profit from them. In Ovid's poem were to be found a variety of fables of sufficient inde- corum to challenge the ingenuity of the most resource- ful expositor. By the 12th century, several strains of eXplanation for them had been develOped.32 Since Ovid was not commented upon, as nearly as we can tell, until the 12th century, the early authors who wrote eXplanations of the Metamorphoses could not refer to similar works in compiling their own, and would have had to use other classical com- mentaris for reference material on pagan myth. 32For a handlist and discussion of these strains in the Ovid commentaries see L. K. Born, "Ovid and Alle- gory,” Speculum IX (1934), as well as the articles by J. D. Cooke, ”Euhemerism: A Medieval Interpretation of Classical Paganism," Speculum II (1927). and Fausto Ghis- alberti, "L'Ovidius Moralizatus di P. Bersuire," Studi Romanzi XXIII (1933), 46 ff. 266 Probably the oldest fully develOped mythographic com- mentaries they could use were those on Martianus, which we shall discuss later, and those on Boethius. In examining the way in which peOple eXplained the Metamorphoses, we shall see that most of these com- mentators, in one way or another, were indebted to the already existing commentaries on Boethius, and in the case of Orpheus indebted as well to Boethius' treatment of his legend. Boethius and Ovid seem naturally to fall to- gether in our study of Orpheus in the Middle Ages, since Boethius was following, in themain, the account of Orpheus presented in the Metamorphoggg. There, the reader will recall, the story of Orpheus was told in its entirety, differing from the Virgilian treat- ment only in that there was no mention made of Aris- teus and that the sad goodbyes of Orpheus and Eur- ydice are not so much emphasized as they are in Virgil. A medieval reader, then, would have pretty much the whole story of Orpheus and Eurydice when he read the Metamorphoses, and he would have the story in a con- text which emphasized the love interest of the legend. 267 Thus it is only natural to see certain traces of the romance strain of the Orpheus legend turning up in Ovid commentaries as well--there are the same elabor- ations and introduction of extraneous or biblical ma- terial as we noted in the Boethius commentaries, and traces of the exaltation of Eurydice. The medieval commentators on the Metamorphoses who wrote between the 12th and 14th centuries were Arnulphus of Orleans, John of Garland, Giovanni del Virgilio, the authors of the Ovide Moraliséin prose and verse, and Peter Bersuire. These authors helped to fill in the portrait of Orpheus most importantly by adding material from the Bible or from religious life. It is perhaps ironic that Orpheus' appearance in Ovid--probably his most pagan presentation to the Middle Ages--should be subject to the most concentrated efforts at Christian eXplieation, and in the medieval Ovid commentaries we find the first direct identifi- cation of Orpheus with Christ. I Arnulphus of Orléans. The oldest of the Ovid commentaries of which I am aware is by Arnulphus of 268 33 . . . Orléans (c. 1125). It is conventional in structure, being a set of straightforward eXplanatory glosses on the individual fables. The section on the Orpheus legend contains little original material and much that is familiar to us from the commentaries of Rem- igius and William of Conches on Boethius. Arnulphus' overall concern with the Appeg and with Orpheus' power of eloquence suggests, as well, that he had been read- ing Fulgentius. While to us the commentary may seem less valuable for being a compendium of other men's words, to the medieval reader the presence of author- ities from the past lent weight to a contemporary document. There was, as should be clear by now, a considerable amount of borrowing among medieval com- mentators, most of it unacknowledged. The schoolmaster Arnulphus does add some new material to the Orpheus legend, of an allegorical nature. When Ovid speaks of mountains as the places to WhiCh Orpheus retired in grief, Arnulphus eXplains that these are the virtues to which he ascended, just 33This commentary has been edited by Fausto Ghisalberti, "Arnolfo d'Orléans, un Cultore di Ovidio nel Secolo XII," Memorie de Reale Instituto Lombardo di Scienze e Lettere XXIV (1932). 269 as he descended to vices when he went after Eurydice. He also explains that the Thracian women killed Or— pheus when he would not consort with them because women are by nature inclined towards lust and vice. Perhaps the most interesting thing in Arnul- phus' work is the gloss added by a later hand to the manuscript edited by Ghisalberti. The man who wrote this marginal note evidently did not find Arnulphus' eXplanation of Orpheus sufficiently Christian for his taste, for he says: Orpheus is a type of Christ, who out of his own goodness provided a wife for him- self . . . but through the teeth of the serpent, that is, by the counsel of the devil . . . lost her. (p. 222) John of Garland. In the Middle Ages, as now, one of the more effective ways to get students to I memorize information was to cast it in the form of verses. The collections of Middle English Lyrics have many examples of these mnemonic verses; one that has survived to our own time is the list of the months beginning "thirty days hath September.“ John of Gar— land, who wrote an Inte umenta Ovidii about 1234, put 270 his commentary in verse which would allow the student to remember easily both the outline of the Ovidian fables and their allegorical explanations. His coup- let on Orpheus reads: De Orpheo: Field is Pleasure: Wife is Flesh: Viper is Poison/ Strength is Rea- son: Styx is Earth: Lyre is Speech.34 In an Ovid manuscript (AmbrOsiana N. 254 Supp.) which contains John's eXplanatory couplet, John's words are explained and expanded by a reader or owner of the manuscript. By Orpheus we are to understand the man who has discretion and who has a wife, that is sensuality, who wanders through a field, that is through the world which they quickly traverse. She was killed by a serpent, that is by the fragility of her sex . . . . When Orpheus summons the trees with his song, we should under- stand foolish men, and by his lyre the Speech which teaches them, and all of this is what these two verses mean. (p. 67) John's device of gnomic verse was to be used.with in- creasing frequency by the emblem writers of the 16th century. 4Intequmentl Ovidii, ed. Fausto Ghisalberti (Milan, 1933) X, p. 67. Note that the word "integu- ment" was made pOpular in commentaries on the Orpheus legend by William of Conches, whose commentary thn seems to follow. 271 Giovanni del Virgilio. The Italian commen- tator Giovanni del Virgilio wrote an eXplanation of the Metamopphoses about 1325, of which one complete manuscript and seven fragments survive. We know that in 1321 Giovanni was authorized to give a course on Virgil, Statius, Lucan, and Ovid at Bologna and he may have written his Ovid commentary for class use. The EXpositio is a series of Latin paraphrases, verse and prose, which, while adding Christian overtones to Ovidfs fables, remain in certain ways separate narra- tives. Giovanni does not allegorize the text he works with so much as eXpand it, taking up the elaborations which had been growing increasingly common among the medieval commentators, and incorporating them into his own narrative paraphrase. Giovanni's commentary, like thenearly contemporary French moralized Ovid in prose, develops a romance—like narrative out of what, in earlier authors, was merely scholia: Orpheus was the wisest and most eloquent of men, and on this account was thought to be the son of Apollo, the god of Wisdom, and of CalliOpe, the Muse of Eloquence. Orpheus took Eurydice for a wife--she should be understood as profound judgement and he had taken her because she judged profoundly. 272 But when profound judgement wandered through a field, that is, when she delighted in worldly things, Aristeus--the devil--killed her, because the devil drew her from the good path. Orpheus, seeing then that he had lost profound truth, began to praise God humbly, and his wife was returned to him'on the condition that he not lock back at her before they reached the gates of Hell, that is, not to succumb to temptation, but he brOke this law and accordingly lost her. On this account Orpheus renounced Hell, that is temptation, and reconciling himself to God began to spurn women--giving his soul instead to God—-and began to love men, that is, to act in a manly way, on which account he was dead to the delights of the world; for truly, such men [cloistered religious?] are dead to the world; and thus he truly had Eurydice back--that is profund judgement. Giovanni makes of Ovid's story a moral exem- plum almost like a saint's life. For him, the story tells the Christian to renounce the world and turn to God. Orpheus becomes a monk. Moreover, this in- terpretation actually derives from Giovanni's imag— inative handling of one of the most thorny points in Ovid's fable of Orpheus. It will be recalled that, according to Ovid, Orpheus had for three years after the death of his wife shunned women, "giving his love 3 . . . . . . . 5Giovanni del Virgilio, EXpOSitio Metamorpho- .§£§: in Fausto Ghisalberti "Giovanni del Virgilio Es— positore delle Metamorphosi," I1 Giornale Dantesco, XXXIV (1931), p. 89. 273 to tender boys" (Mpg, X, 83—84). This detail is one which most of the antique and medieval interpreters of the legend refrained from discussing; yet Giovanni builds a Christian tale of renunciation from it. In short, Giovanni has not so much interpreted Orpheus' legend for the use of Christians as seen in the legend an entirely new story and one which is interesting in its own right. After the prose interpretation, lest the student forget Giovanni's interpretation, he offers a mnemonic verse summary of the story which is rather similar in style to the distich of John of Garland. In Arnulphus of Orléans' gloss and in Gio- vanni's eXposition one can see an increasing interest in synchronizing the life of Orpheus with the life and teachings of Christ. This interest dominates the treatment of Orpheus in two 14th century works, the prose Ovide.Moralig§ and the Metamorphosi§_0vig¢ _iapg of Pierre Bersuire. In these two works we find the first direct and attributable identification of Orpheus with Christ in medieval literature. The Ovide Maralisé. The prose Ovide Moralise, a long work which translates the fables of Ovid into 274 French and appends to each a moralitas, gives this View of Orpheus: . . . by Orpheus and by his harp we must understand the person of our Lord Jesus Christ . . . who played his harp so mel— odiously that he drew from Hell the sainted souls of the Holy Fathers who had descended there because of the sins of Adam and Eve.36 In this passage not only have Christ and Or— pheus been identified with each other, but Christ has assumed the lyre of Orpheus. The cross traditionally carried by Christ in the harrowing of hell is not, however, so dissimilar from the lyre which supplants it, either in visual appearance or in symbolic mean- ing. Orpheus' lyre, as we have seen, had been inter- preted as the way in which the Logos manifested itself in sound, and was also, like the cross, seen as a figure for the universe itself. 'Christian symbolism of the cross as a figure for the universe derives from the 36C. de Boer, ed., Ovide Moraligéen Prose (Amsterdam, 1954), p. 264. A somewhat similar version of the work in verse has also been edited by de Boer, Ovide Moralizéd (Amsterdam, 1915-1938). The versified version gives a fairly conventional Boethian moralitas: "don't look back or you lose everything" (IV, 23). For a discussion of these works see J. Engles, Etudes sur L'Ovide Moralisé (Groningen, 1943) and Born, 0p. cit. 275 idea of the Greek letter X as a cosmic figure in the Timaeus. Irenaeus saw the four points of the cross as symbolizing the length and breadth, height and depth of the world (Epig. I, 34); like the seven strings of Orpheus' lyre which symbolized the con— sonances of the spheres, Vthe sign of the wooden cross holds the machinery of the firmament together, strengthens the buttresses of the-world and helps those who cling to it to achieve eternity, accord- ing to Firmicus Maternus (De Err. Prof. Relig., 27, QSEQ, 2, p. 121). The many points of comparison be- tween the descent of Orpheus and_Christ's descent to Hell as detailed in the Gospel of Nicodemus make all the more natural this linking of Christ's cross and its magical power over the King of Hell with Or- pheus' lyre and its power over the gods of the under- world. Pierre Bersuire. Probably the most remark- able and inventive of the medieval commentators on the Metamorphoses was the Benedictine Pierre Bersuire (d. 1356), who wrote a work called the Metamorphosis 276 Ovidiana. This work, which was long thought to be the work of Thomas Walleys, is now known to be the fifteenth book of Bersuire's great moralized ency— . . 37 clopedia, the Reductorium Morale. Bersuire interprets morally each fable in the Metamorphoses. He begins his eXplanation by presenting a straightforward paraphrase of the fable, setting out the main events in their natural order. Then he goes on to eXplain the fable, often giving seVeral different views of it. He Opens the discus- sion of the Orpheus legend as follows: Let us speak allegorically and say that Orpheus, the child of the [sun], is Christ the son of God the Father, because he leads Eurydice, that is the human soul, to the Father through charity and love. And Christ joined her to himself through a special Prer- ogative from the Father. Truly, the Devil, 7A concise discussion of Bersuire's life is to be found in Beryl Smalley, English Friars and An- tiguity, pp. 261-64. Accounts of the various manu- scripts and editions of the Reductorium Morale may be found in F. Stegmuller, Repertorium Biblicum IV, 235 ff. On the question of Bersuire's authorship of the Metamorphosis Ovidiana see B. Haureau, "Mémoire sur un Commentaire des Metamorphosis d'Ovide, " Mem- oires de LJAcadémie des Inscriptions et Belles Let— tres XXX (1883), pp. 49-50. 277 creeping like a Serpent, drew near the new bride, that is, created de novo, while she collected flowers, tha: is while she seized the forbidden apple, and stung her by temptation and killed her by sin, and finally she went to the world below. See- ing this, Christ—Orpheus wished himself to descend to the lower world and thus he retook his wife, that is human nature, ripping her from the hands of the ruler of Hell himself; and he led her with him to the upper world, saying this verse from Canticles 2:10 'Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away.‘ Here Bersuire sees the whole of the Fall and the Re- demption of man in the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. The divinely skilled song which swayed the gods in Ovid's account becomes the New Song with which Christ calls to the Church to join him in marriage. Intent on offering a number of possible in- terpretations, Bersuire next presents a contrasting and somewhat less favorable View of Orpheus. Or let us say that Orpheus is a sinner who, by the bite of the serpent, that is by the temptation of the Devil, lost his wife, that is his soul, when she was in— discreetly collecting flowers, that is applying her mind to the flux of tempor- alia. But he recovered her spiritually, 38Metamorphosis Ovidiana . . . MQ£§12£§£;§57 planata (Paris, 1509), F01. LXXVIII, Sig. K. "Child of the sun” is my conjecture. The text reads folis, leaf, or poetically, a Sibyl, but the compositer must have taken f for long S. 278 because he descended to the lower world through thought and through the power of his sweet measured words. Fear alone of infernal punishment made him penitent for his sins and thus he regained his wife through grace . . . . Truly many are there who look backward through a love of tempor- alia just as a dog returns to his vomit, and they love their wife too much, that is the recovered soul, and so they favor their concupiscence and return the eyes of their mind to it and so they put her by and Hell receives her again. So says John 12:25, 'who loves his soul loses it.‘ (Fol. LXXIII, r. Sig. K) Here Bersuire echoes St. Augustine both in the meta- phor "the eyes of their minds" and, more important, in the idea of the descent in humility, which occurs in many Augustinian texts, for example "first descend that you may ascend to God" (Conf. IV, xii). By this approach he makes of the Orpheus myth a moral exem- plum rather than an allegory. Bersuire evidently wishes to present a number of exempla based on the myth--a number of Christian perspectives from which the story may be viewed profitably. As he continues to offer these perspectives, however, he departs com- pletely from any existing tradition of Orpheus inter- pretation and becomes almost purely theChristian mor- alist, no longer giving any overall meaning to the 279 legend but trying to make each detail suggest an im- proving idea.. Skipping over his treatment of the manner of Orpheus' death, we come to this curious statement by the commentator, which he does not preface by his usual "let us say allegorically." Orpheus signifies the preacher and teacher of the divine song, who, coming from Hell, that is the world, must sit in the mountains of Scripture and religion and sing the songs and melodies of sacred Scripture, and call to himself, that is to the state of peni- tence or faith, trees and stones, that is the insensible and hardened sinners, and from them, by the sweetness of the divine word, to bring together the people. And he ought to flee the embrace of women . . . Or let us say that Orpheus signifies the saints and doctors of the primitive church and by the sweetness of his song, that is preaching, called to the faith of the Church, stones, that is hard hearts, and trees, that is insensible and infidel men. (Fol. LXXII v. Sig. K 1) Because Bersuire is not so much interested in explain— ing Ovid as in plying the text with an arsenal of Christian interpretations, his commentary leads the reader to perhaps the farthest remove from the text he has as yet been brought. Further on in this com- mentary the Thracian women who killed Orpheus become, 280 in Bersuire's hands, cruel princes and tyrants who murder the early martyrs. Bersuire does not hold any specific point of view about the allegorical meaning of Ovid's fables, nor does he doggedly rely on the ideas of earlier commentaries, though he does follow Giovanni del Virgilio rather closely in his interpretation of Orpheus. Wishing to make the story of Orpheus as useful as possible to the Christian, he identifies Orpheus with Christ, but we feel that just as important to Bersuire was the making of Christ's deeds more universal by showing how yet another classi— cal story, that is the myth of Orpheus, prefigured them. Bersuire's work is so little dependent on the original fables of Ovid that, in effect, it is not a commentary at all, but a separate anthology. Bersuire has thoroughly medievalized his pagan ma- terial, as indeed John and Giovanni with their verses on Orpheus had been doing in their own way. The Ovid commentary, lending itself particularly well to such treatment, has by the 14th century evolved int a set of Christian and peculiarly medieval narratives, 281 needing only an index and introduction on the worship of the pagan gods in general to make it a separate work of reference. For any person wishing to read or to write literature containing mythological allu- sions, a work such as the Metamorphosis Ovidiana would provide a ready handbook of classical legend, all rendered into acceptable Christian versions. In such a commentary we see a forerunner of the mytho- graphic handbook. The Mythographic Tradition Although many features of the Ovid commen- taries are manifest in the mythographic handbooks, we must look farther back for the sources of the mythographic tradition. Two early medieval works, the Mitoloqiae of Fulgentius and the De Nuptuiis of Martianus Capella, may properly be called the pro- genitors of a long line of commentaries which was to Produce, by the middle of the 14th century, Boc- caccio's Genealogiae Deorum Gentilium and Colucio Salutati's De Laboribus Herculis. 282 Both Fulgentius and Martianus were grammarians, interested primarily in the arts; for them classical myths were meaningful in so far as they eXplained and prefigured allegorically the seven liberal arts. Ful- gentius on the one hand, wrote an elaborate reference work providing physical, etymological and moral ex- planations for most of the Greek myths. His manner of proceeding, using the etymological and moral explan- ation together, reminds one of the Pseudo-Heraclitus-- for example, he says that Paris, compelled to choose the most beautiful of the three goddesses, was really choosing among symbols for the active, contemplative and erotic life (II, 1). Martianus, on the other hand, wrote a long poem in which he personified the seven liberal arts and arranged a marriage in heaven between Mercury and Philology. All of this was accompanied by extensive cosmolOgical learning. He saw in the loves and deeds of the classical gods, many of whom were connected with particular planets as were the arts, prefigurations or ethical parallels to the re- lations of the medieval Artes.39 39See the fine article on Martianus, his dif- ficulties and his commentators by William H. Stahl; "To a Better Understanding of Martianus Capella," pec— ,glpm_XL (1965), p. 102 ff. 283 Fulgentius was a more straightforward exposi- tory author, whose work was as easily comprehensible to a well-educated 14th century reader as it was to a 6th. But Martianus grew increasingly difficult with the passage of time. His style was obtuse and his work presupposed extensive familiarity with Latin culture, yet even at the time Martianus wrote his poem, the gods and goddesses of Rome had ceased to be known as part of a state cult and were on their way to becoming the mere objects of antiquarian re- search. Classical mythology was no longer a part of religion in the 6th century A.D., and Martianus' references even to its most familiar figures grew more obscure as the place which pagan deities had once occupied in the public mind was repeOpled by Christian historical figures. Not surprisingly, therefore, commentaries came to be written in the Carolingian period on the poem of Martianus, explain— ing his allusions to myth. But unlike the Boethius commentaries, however, which had been grammatical, metrical, stylistic, philos0phical, historical gggj mythological, the Martianus commentaries were 284 primarily scientific and mythological, having been conceived simply as a means of making clear what was going on at the literal level in the De Nuptuiis. Among the authors of these commentaries were Remigius, Johannes Scotus, Martin of Laon and Notker -—men whose interests were classical and in certain ways humanistic rather than primarily moralistic. They saw great value in Greek and Roman learning and wanted to make it available to men of their own age; as a consequence, early commentaries on Marti- anus tend to be of secular interest. Though they were written by clerics, these commentaries were not much concerned to show the evils of the pagan gods or the stupidity of emminent pagans in not ac- cepting Christianity. Their dependence on Fulgentius as a source of information on classical myth shows up in the tendency of these early commentaries to extoll poetry and the Appgg generally and to give more information about Plato than Paul. They are not always very accurate, but they do focus on the work to be explained. Martin of Laon's note on Or- pheus is typical of these Carolingian commentaries. 285 In explaining a reference to Orpheus and Aristoxenus, Plato and Archimedes, in the De Nuptuiis, Martin says Orpheus and Aristoxenus were lyre players; Plato and Archimedes were astrologers who disputed about the motions of the seven planets. Other commentaries tended to stress the story of Or- pheus as a figure for the Apppg, particularly rhet- oric, eloquence, and music. The purely informational content of the Car- olingian commentaries on Martianus, though in brief compass, relates them to the great medieval encyclo— pedias of human knowledge compiled by such writers as St. Isidore of Seville and Rhabanus Maurus, to name two of the most famous. As early as the 7th century A. D. there were attempts to write reference works which would contain all useful and theoretic knowledge ranging from mechanics, animal lore and herbs, to rhetoric, etymology and antiquity. These encyclopedias naturally would offer information on the gods of the ancients. They would also be illus- trated, just as our modern encyclOpedias are. The 40Dunchad (Martin of Laon) Glossae in Marti- anum, ed. Cora E. Lutz (n.p., 1944), p. 12. 286 De Universo of Rhabanus Maurus, for example, from its publication in the 9th century down through the 11th century, was repeatedly illustrated, the most famous copy being that in the library of Monte Cas- sino. Most probably because the pagan gods lent themselves to illustration, one finds in looking at the Monte Cassino Codex, that much of the manu— script is devoted to illustrations of the gods, each with its identifying attributes. A person who wished to read classical or early medieval authors could find mythological information in word and picture in these encyclopedias-—both words and pictures deriving from the descriptions given of the pagan divinities in Fulgentius and Martianus. EncyclOpedias were large and costly and it is likely that excerpts were made from them from Carolingian times onward. The sections devoted to myth, along with a detached commentary on Martianus or Ovid, would form a particularly useful volume which would prepare for the later, more Specialized mythographic handbook. 287 Fourteenth century examples of these handbooks gather together several rather different strands of early medieval interpretations of classical fable in one useful work of reference. The Mitoloqiae of Ful- gentius supplies the main body of information on the gods and the basis of allegorical interpretation; the Martianus commentaries provide for discussion of an author devoted primarily to classical myth; the encyclopedias provide the idea of a mythographic work of reference of both an informational and alle- gorical nature, complete with pictures; and the Ovid commentary provides a detachable set of narratives, easily separable from the text, and employing mater- ial from books other than the Metamor hoses, by means of which any myth under discussion may be brought a step further into the Middle Ages. Most important, from these various strands, the idea developed that pagan mytholOgy could instruct Christian men in ethical, religious and rhetorical ideas and therefore was of sufficient value to deserve study in a separate work. This idea was succimtly put by the author of the verse Ovide Moralisé when he said of the pagan 288 fables following St. Paul, "Tout est pour nostre en- seignement" (I, 4099). A mythographic tradition, then, with its roots as far back as the work of Fulgentius in the 6th cen- tury, is traceable down through the Middle Ages in a number of dissimilar works; What may be called a mythographic manner of dealing with the Orpheus Leg- end is also identifiable and indeed, remains remark- ably conStant from early writers on music or other subjects, who were not Specifically mythographers, to the humanistic writers of the 14th century, en- gaged in compiling handbooks of classical material. The mythographic approach may be characterized first of all by its secularity--its tendency to regard Or— pheus as an archetype of the eloquent man or perfect musician, rather than as a prefiguration of Christ; its explications were most frequently aimed at a lay readership or intended to aid in the reading of secular literature. Perhaps the Single major excep- tion is the Ovid commentary of Bersuire, which must have found its greatest use as a handbook for preachers wishing to enrich their sermons with classical exempla. 289 And even there, where we find the most zealous effort at Christianizing every element of pagan mythology, Orpheus' eloquence figures prominently in the inter- pretations offered—-it has simply been transformed by Bersuire into a divinely inspired eloquence. The writers on Orpheus whom I have grouped-- rather loosely, to be sure--under the heading of "the mythOgraphic approach" are: some early musicolOgistS; Johannes Scotus, for his commentary on Martianus; Bernard Silvestris of Tours for his commentary on the first Six books of the Aeneid; John Ridvall for his EplgentiuppMetgforglig; and finally the humanis- tic mythographers, Boccaccio and Salutati. Orpheus, aS he appears in their handbooks, has evolved from a Simple pagan original into a figure of some stature, with a wife almost as much discussed as himself. His deeds have become adventures which fit tum.to be re- garded as a romance hero, and in fact the twenty page narrative of Orpheus to be found in the De Laporiggg Herculis is only a step away from the secular and purely literary treatment which he was to receive in Sir Orfeo and Henryson's "Orpheus and Eurydice." 290 Medieval writers on music. An anonymous Carthusian musicologist tells us that Orpheus was among those who invented music. His list of co- inventers is sufficiently interesting to be given here Since it illustrates the mythographic writers' fondness for diSplayS of classical erudition, and also shows how new historical characters were cre- ated in the Middle Ages, by peOple's misunderstand— ing of the material they were writing about. This writer, confused by the names of certain of the Greek modes, thinks that they were all the names of famous men. "Isti fuerunt inventores musice prOphane," he says: Tubal; Ptholomeus; Albinus; Nichomachus; Mercurius; Corebus; rex Lydorum, filius Attis; Libius; Terpandrix; Phrix; Phebus; Arabs; Savius Licaon; Profacius Perithos; Coloponnus;Zemon et Amphion;Pictagoras; Aristotiles; Nichita; Boetius; Orpheus; Thebeus; Teulex; Egyptius.41 (my emphasis) ' A somewhat similar passage from another anon- ymous writer on music reminds us of the references to Orpheus as a musician who learned his art from 41This passage may be found in the Varia printed by Edmond de Cousaemaker, Scriptorium de Musica Medii Aevi (Paris, 1864), II, 460. 291 the movements of the planets, which were common in late antiquity. Some say music itself was discovered by Orpheus, who according to the philosophers, originally took his harmony from the move- ments of the stars, because by reason ofthe rubbing together of the celestial bodies, there comes forth a great melody.42 A Somewhat more rationalistic eXplanation is offered by Aribo Scholasticus in his discussion of the origins and power of music. He wishes to ex— plain the unknown or incredible by reference to the known. Essentially, he sees Orpheus as a man deified because of his skill with muSic. Truly we know that hunters originally, their lungs resounding, drove roebucks and other wild game to themselves and the fable is not dark, but quite under- standable which tells us that Orpheus placated Pluto with his lyre, when we read that David softened Saul's evil spirit by his harping.43 A 10th century author, Reginus of Prums, makes interesting additions to the Orpheus legend in his 2g Harmonica, and may have been following a handbook of 2 . Tractatus de MuSica, Coussemaker, III, 476. 4 . . . . 3De MuSica, ed. Martin Gerbert in Scriptores Ecclesiastici_ge Mppica (San Blas, 1784) II, 225. 292 mythological lore which has not survived. Reginus does not seem to believe that Orpheus and Eurydice were real peOple and reveals a clerical bias against pagan fable when he says, following an unnamed auth- ority, that ”fabulam Orphei & Eurydicis esse confic- tam," this last word having the Slightly perjorative sense of "confabulation" in the Middle Ages. He sup- plies us With the new and charming information that Orpheus wooed and won Eurydice by the power of his music, a detail I have not seen in Ovid, Virgil, or Boethius. Though suspicious of the reality of the fable, Reginus cannot help but explain the story in contemporary terms. He then gives a very brief ac- count of the flight from Aristeus, the death of Eur- ydice and Orpheus' failure to bring her up from the lower world. Then, closely following Fulgentius, he gives his allegorical explanation of the story. Orpheus is called, so to Speak, orea hone, that is, best voice; Eurydice stands for profound understanding. Orpheus, therefore, wished to call Eurydice from hell by the sound of his lyre, but did not prevail, because though the natural disposition of man strives to penetrate the depths of subtle harmony and to understand and eval- uate it according to certain rules and to 293 call it to the light, that is to under? standing, this human cognition hides, fleeing into the darkness of ignorance.44 Johannes Scotus. While the medieval writers on music no doubt follow Fulgentius in their interest in the Artes, a Carolingian author, Johannes Scotus, may have contributed to their view of music as the highest of the Artes. John's words about Orpheus had wide currency in the Middle Ages, judging from the number of later authors who echo him in one way or another. John's commentary on the De Nuptuiis follows the etymological approach of Fulgentius but adds new material, making the legend of Orpheus and Eurydice an allegory of the interrelation between the theory and the practice of music. Eurydice has a deep meaning. She is said to be the very art of music in its most profound principles and her husband is said to be Orpheus, that is, beautiful voice. This husband, if he shall have lost his singing power through any neglect of his art, must descend into the lower world for a deep understanding-~for the 44 . . . De Harmonica Institutione, Gerbert I, 246. Hucbold of St. Amand gives substantially the same ac- count as Reginus but leaves out the detail about the wooing by music and adds an interpretation of Aristeus as virtue and the serpent as divine prudence. See his Enchiriadis Musica, g. 920 in pp 132, 981. 294 tones of music are arranged according to the rules of art--and he must return again. But when Eurydice compares the corporeal and transitory voice of Orpheus to the profound theory of the art of music, She flees again into her deep knowledge, be— cause the understanding of these matters cannot appear in voices and because of this Orpheus remained sad; having the mere sound of music without possessing the under- lying principles.45 John's view of the legend reminds one of the Renaissance trOpe of Fortitudo et Sapientia which ShakeSpeare uses in his Troilus. One faculty is meaningless without the other; each needs the other to fulfill its final cause. Though John seems to feel that Orpheus and Eurydice need each other, that is, that the principles of music need the voice or instrument to allow them form, he suggests that Eur- ydice, representing these principles, is somehow su- perior to Orpheus. The robe of the Lady PhiloSOphy, as she stands before Boethius in his vision, is em- broidered with the letters 6 and H for theoretika and raktika, but we feel that theoretika is the more significant of the two. 45JOhannis Scotti Annotationes in Marcianum, ed. Cora E. Lutz (Cambridge, Mass., 1939). pp- 192-3- 295 The most important detail of John's commen- tary on the legend, I think, is its presentation of the relations between the lovers. JOhn does not sub- ordinate Eurydice to Orpheus or see her as the pas- sional side of man's nature; rather, theory being higher than practice, She is superior to Orpheus and rejects his temporal call. As was mentioned earlier, two points of view towards Eurydice can be seen in medieval discussions of the myth. One is clerical and misogynistic, the other almost a courtly view of her in which she stands as much above Orpheus as the Rose stands above the Suitor in the Rpmance of the Rose. In the commentaries, Eurydice was usually seen as the passional side of the soul which draws man to the hell of temporalia and she was so inter- preted because of a certain strain of misogyny which shows itself most vividly in the Contra Jovinianum, the Lamentations of Matheolus and the Merchant's Tale to name but a few. In this view, Eurydice is subord- inate to Orpheus automatically because she is a woman; Peter of Paris in absolute ignorance of what he was 296 glossing saw her as a shrew who was killed by her husband. This position is most clearly expressed in the Boethius commentaries of Conches and Trivet and the vernacular translators who follow them. Commentators on other works also, tend to reveal this hostility towards Eurydice. Eudes le Picard, in his explanation of the Ecoloques of Theodolus, says simply that "Orpheus ratio est" and that Eur- ydice ”sensualitas voluptatibus dedita." In another place he elaborates this latter view. "Eurydice is human nature" he says, and he associates her obliquely with Eve and her progeny: "of such a sort was the pact [between man and God] that if he sinned he must descend to hell from.which he would never be freed." In addition, Eudés used a proverb in connection with Eurydice which we also saw in the work of the clerical Bersuire. Eudes glosses the Orpheus legend "As a doq returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly" (Prov. 26:11). This Eurydice, he says, ”was recalled by the Speeches and instructions of Orpheus to the way of salvation, but she fell back and re- gressed into her first sin, just as a dOg returns 297 to its vomit, and on this account hell will hold her perpetually."46 The mythographic interpretations of the legend develOping from Fulgentius through Johannes Scotus represent the centrary current in which Eurydice is highly thought of. We shall see this view, closely associated with courtly love, Mariolatry and the coy women of romances, develOped in the more purely lit— erary works concerning Orpheus and Eurydice in the high Middle Ages, where it gives rise also to facul— tative interpretations in which Eurydice is presented as the higher faculty.47 Bernard3§_Silve§tris. The 12th century Pla- tonist Bernardus Silvestris of Tours wrote a commen- tary in the first six books of the Aeneid which does 46Eudes le Picard, Theodulusggpm Commento (Paris, 1488). Sig. C. IIIr and G.IIv. 47 In B. N. Lat. 7537 A., a Theodulus commen- tary, we read "Per Euridicen intelligamus discrecion- em, per Orpheum eloquenciam. Discrecio enim amica est eloquencie . . . Orpheus, id est virtus, hanc, id est discrecionem voluit ad se attrahere et non potuit." Fol. 61 v62r. Here the author has seen a different meaning in the legend than that offered by Fulgentius and JOhanneS Scotus, but still Eurydice occupies the higher place those writers gave her. 298 not deal with all of the poem, does not explain it grammatically and does not Spend much effort on par- aphrase. Instead it concentrates on famous passages in the poem, such as the descent to the underworld in Book Six, to present a philSOphic interpretation in which the six books of the Aeneid are allegoric— ally explained as the six ages of the world. Bernard, like William.of Conches, believes that the work to be eXplained had a nucleus of philOSOphic truth hidden beneath the veil of fable, and for him, Virgil was really a philosoPher.- Placing great value on the auctores and the Appgg as the keys to learning and to philoSOphy, Bernard devotes the better part of his attention to pointing out the Ethical precepts and high place of the arts in Virgil's work.48 The section in which Bernard discusses Orpheus begins with a review of Orpheus' birth, parentage, power over nature, loss of his wife and descent to hell.49 8For an interesting discussion of Bernard's commentary, see J. R. O'Donnell C. S. B. "The Sources and Meaning of Bernard Silvester's Commentary on the Aeneid,” Medieval Studies XXIV (1962), p. 23lff. 49Commentum Bernardi Silvestris Super Sex Li- bros Eneidios Virgilii, ed. G. Riedel (Gryphiswald, 1924), p. 54. 299 Then it turns to Bernard's interpretation, in which are blended Fulgentius, Johannes Scotus, Remigius and'William of Conches, with William's work the most stressed. Here is what Bernard says about the ety- mology of Orpheus' name. We take Orpheus for wisdom and eloquence, whence Orpheus is called. , so to Speak, orea phone, that is, good voice. He was the son of Apollo and CalliOpe, that is, wisdom and eloquence, for wise and eloquent is the son of wisdom and eloquence. (p. 54) CalliOpe is called fine voice and is inter- -preted as eloquence because the voice effects eloquence. Orpheus has a lyre, that is, the rhetoric of oratory in which the various colors of rhetoric sound just as different quantities sound in music. (p. 54) It would be fruitless to try and separate out all of the strands of this explanation and attribute them to various sources. But it is plain that Bernardus is writing here in the tradition of Fulgentius with an understandable emphasis on poetry and rhetoric since he himself was a poet. Bernard is equally interested in Eurydice's name. He first gives the more clerical View of her. "Orpheus' wife is Eurydice, that is, natural concu- piscence which is naturally joined to him." Bernard 300 observes, "and never is he without his natural con- cupiscence." Bernard follows William closely in seeing concupiscence as a kind of attendant Spirit which is born with man and dies with him. Then he partially vindicates Eurydice, offering the more Fulgentian view of her name and significance: We understand the natural concupiscence which is in human nature to be dominant and Eurydice is called the desire of good and she is given to desiring good.‘ He repeats William on Eurydice's travels through the field which is both green and dry earth but adds the more flattering biblical echo that Eurydice wandered "just as the flower of the field (flos feni) makes the glory of all the world." He tells the same story of her difficulties with Aristeus but provides a bit more information about the Shepherd than William did. Aristeus should be understood as divine virtue: ares, that is, virtue, from whence we get AriOpagus, that is, city of virtue, and theus is truly deus. He is called divine virtue because man has divinity in himself. To Aristeus is ascribed the duty of the shepherd because the obligation of virtue belongs to the shepherd, that is to care for the thoughts, words and deeds of the multitude. (p. 55) 301 I Bernard returns to William for his discussion of Eur- ydice's coyness before the attentions of Aristeus. The serpent which bites Eurydice, Bernard says, "is to be understood as temporal good who creeps about below and when he sees beauty is hurtful to it" (p. 55). It is interesting to note that as we watch the development of the legend of Orpheus and his wife in the Middle Ages, we see that Eurydice becomes increasingly prominent, whether in a good or bad sense. Gradually Orpheus and Eurydice are coming to be seen as a couple of lovers, rather than a name- less woman who is the object of»an antique hero's search, as was the case in Hellenic and Hellenistic literature. John Ridvall. An early 14th century cleric, thn Ridvall, wrote in addition to several scriptural commentaries which employed classical material, a curious work entitled Fulgentius Metaforalis or Ful- gentius re-mythologized. This book, nominally a com— mentary on the Mitoloqiae of Fulgentius, was in fact 302 a preacher's handbook providing moralized information about myth from a Christian point of View.50 Like John of Garland and Giovanni del Virgilio, Ridvall tried to make his accounts of classical myth memor- able by putting the fables into verses. He then in- terpreted his own verses. Here is his commentary on the fable of Orpheus. Orpheus was depicted by the poets as the best of harpers, whose efficacious melo- dies Boethius mentions in his Congglation. And well this delight agrees with our blessedness, as Rhabanus teaches in his book On the Nature of Thinqp. By this in- strument of music, we should understand the community of the church and all of the GleCt o o 0 (VI, 107-8) This explanation would be of more help to someone in search of illustrations for theological ideas than it would be to a reader wishing to "understand" Ful- gentius, who was, after all, not difficult in the original version. Ridvall's elaborations on the Mit- oloqiae are focused not on the pagan myths of the past, but on present Christian doctrine, and in this they may be said to have departed from the Spirit of the 50See English Friars angrAntiquity, p. 109ff for information about Ridvall. The treatise Fulgen- tius Metaforalis was edited by Hans Liebeschutz (Leipzig and Berlin, 1926). 303 mythographers which Fulgentius represents. The E317 gentiuS.Metaforalis, however, was frequently illus- trated, and in this respect would have been both a verbal and visual source for pictures of the gods in the Middle Ages. Giovanni Boccaccio and Colucio Salutati. Boccaccio and Salutati represent the great flowering of the medieval mythographic tradition. They are medieval in date and yet Renaissance in Spirit; their writings look forward to the purely secular mythogra- phers like Natalis Comes and Vincent Cartari and the emblem writers Alciati and Ripa. Both Boccaccio and Salutati are not'writing mythographic handbooks for the use of preachers as did Ridvall, but completely secular handbooks for the use of poets, rhetoricians—- in Short, all men who would like to ornament their style with an elegant classical phrase or allusion. Moreover, both Boccaccio and Salutati wrote in their mythographic works elaborate defenses of poetry and the allegorical method of reading pagan fable in reply to clerical attacks. Though these two authors are 304 interested-in secular uses of myth, it should not be assumed that they were completely uninterested in the earlier Christian interpretations; rather, they are eclectic, presenting many points of view on Orpheus. Coupled with this more secular inter est in myth, we find in these two writers a great interest in Greek learning and in the history and religious practices of the Greeks and Romans. In both men, though their working knowledge of the Greek language was probably small, we still see knowledge of Greek customs based on Greek texts. Many of Boccaccio and Salutati'ssources for the Orpheus material have not appeared in medi- eval diScuSSions of the legend before. Boccaccio, in the Genealoqie Deorum_Gentilium, cites as his sources on Orpheus, Lactantius, Rhabanus Maurus, Virgil, Fulgentius, Pliny, Solinus, Statius, Euse- bius, Leontius, and the mysterious Theodontius, a medieval Greek author now lost. One is amazed, in looking at the index nominum of Ullman's edition of Salutati's De Laboribus Herculis, at the author's wide range of reference. Salutati seems to have 305 been familiar with a wider selection of classical authors than would be found in the libraries of many modern colleges. He cites as sources for his account of Orpheus: Fulgentius, Remigius, Boccaccio, Servius, Epicurus, Virgil, Thales, Aristoxenus, Cicero, Hygin— us, Ovid, Lactantius, Claudian, Nicomachus of Gerasa, Germanicus Caesar, Colophonius Estieus, Plato, Hip- pocrates, Eratosthenes, Servius and Alexander. It is rare to see a medieval commentator on the Orpheus legend mention more than one or at the most two, of his predecessors. Because Boccaccio and Salutati compare the differing accounts of many authors they are truly comparative mythographers. Boccaccio begins with the standard account of Orpheus, quite close to that given by Ovid, but he has information from writers like Eratosthenes and Hyginus which the mythographic authors before him did not possess; also, certain romantic additions to the story, such as that Orpheus wooed Eurydice with music, interest him, so he retells them. While the legend of Mercury's invention of the lyre and his giving of it to Orpheus is relatively 306 common knowledge in the Middle Ages, for some reason it does not seem to be the prOperty of many of the early mythographers. It is included, however, by Boccaccio, who says he found it in the encyclOpedia of Rhabanus Maurus.51 Boccaccio's predilection for the Appgg and more specifically for the arts of elo— quence leads him to incorporate the story of the lyre into his etymological interpretation, and thus to add some views of his own. The lyre, however, was given to him by Mercury, because by the lyre, having dif- ferent intervals of tone, we must under- stand the faculty of oratory, which, clearly, is made not from one tone, but from many, and compositions are not composed of just one element but of many and they are streng- thened by wisdom and eloquence and by good voice, and when all of these things were found in Orpheus, they were said to come from the rhythmic intervals of Mercury the God of eloquence. By this power of elo- quence and oratory, Orpheus moved trees having fixed and firm roots, that is, men of Obstinate Opinions. . . (pp. 244-5). In this interpretation, Boccaccio shows what was of interest in the Orpheus legend to him and to the men who would be likely to read his book. For Boccaccio, Orpheus was a Renaissance humanist, endowed with the lGiovanni Boccaccio, Genealoqie Deorum Gen- tilium, ed. Vincenzo Romano (Bari, 1951), II, v, 244. 307 power Of eloquence and the sense Of order necessary to write a prOperly gorgeous Latin oration. Boccaccio might have altered Numenius' comment on Plato to read: "What is Orpheus but Cicero Speaking Greek?" The power Of his oratory is secular, however, and to it belongs the achievement not of converting hardened sinners but Of changing obstinately held Opinions. Immediately after this interpretation, Boccaccio gives the story of Orpheus from William of Conches' point Of view. Of Eurydice he adds, When natural concupiscence has fallen into hell, that is among temporalia, a prudent and eloquent man, that is, good oratory, can lead her back to virtue. (p. 245) Lactantius is cited as having said that Or- pheus brought Bacchic rites to Greece, and the infor- mation that Orpheus revealed the rites Of the Bacchan- tes and was killed by them for this reason is intro- duced by Boccaccio from Theodontius. Boccaccio, however, confused the prophetic poems attributed to Orpheus with the rites which he instituted: "Ea sacra . . . Orphyca nominatur" (p. 246). He sees in the story Of the snake turned to stone, an allegory 308 Of time and the fame Of the poet, another humanist concern. Finally, he adds that authors go even fur— ther in their tales Of Orpheus and refers the inter— ested reader tO Pliny, who said that Orpheus invented augury and to Statius, who tells the story of Orpheus with the Argonauts (p. 247). With ColuciO.Salutati we come full circle to the kind Of purely pagan method Of interpretation which we saw in Boethius' treatment of the Orpheus legend. Salutati, like the Pseudo-Heraclitus, be- lieved that beneath pagan fables were hidden profound philosophical truths. Salutati, in eXplaining the allegorical senses Of the twelve labors Of Hercules provides allegorical interpretations for virtually all Of pagan myth. In Book Four Of the De Laboribpp, he discusses a number Of famous descents to the un- derworld in an effort tO shed light on the descent of Hercules, spending some twenty pages on the de— scent Of Orpheus alone. One feels, in reading his discussion, that much Of Salutati's "interpretation" is simply a diSplay of his broad classical learning. He establishes himself as a critic and expositor 309 of earlier commentators, allowing that he will weigh and evaluate each in his turn. - The fables Of Orpheus vary somewhat, just as other fables generally do. I shall put forth the text first Of Germanicus, then the tradition of Hyginus, a not in— ferior author . . . because they did not always put everything together by their OOpipus knowledge . 52 Salutati tells us pretty much what Boccaccio does; he follows Eratosthenes closely, even tO tell- ing us Of how Orpheus was killed for deserting the god Liber, a legend given in the lost Bassarides Of Aeschylus. In a short passage he tells the legend Of Orpheus; in a much longer one he explains it, "Now, however, we come to the allegorical sense" (p. 493). He admits that he knows what the allegor- ical expositors before him have said about Orpheus: ”I am not ignorant that Fulgentius has assigned this fable to the art Of music" (p. 493). And he knows what Remigius and even "my father who can never be sufficiently praised for the study of poetry, Iohannes Boccatius," had tO say on the subject of myth. But, 52Colucii Salutati De Laboribus Herculis, ed. B. L. Ullman (Zurich, 1947), II, iv, p. 489. 310 he says, it is more pleasing to gO into every sense Of a myth and find one's own interpretation and SO, We think the poets mean by the figure Of Orpheus, those Epicureans who follow pleasure. (p. 493) By a rather elaborate etymological discussion, too long to repeat here, Salutati conjectures that Orpheus may possibly be the son Of CalliOpe and Oeagrus, the river god. Thus Orpheus is a man "born Of water, that is matter, and harmony, that is proportion" (p. 495). He naturally seeks Eurydice as a mate because She means good judgement Of the flux of things because "§p_is gOOd, phpp is flow (fluo) and gggp; is judge- ment" (p. 496). Salutati also has an interesting interpreta- tion of Orpheus' death by the Bacchantes, coupling it with the descent motif he is nominally concerned to discuss. Orpheus descending into hell represents voluptuous man who, not directing himself towards the end Of reason and virtue, forgets the proper use Of the powers Of generation which are symbolized by Father Liber. Instead, he seeks the rites of Venus, indulging himself in pleasure, and he is torn apart 311 by the Thracian women or Bacchantes because without a doubt the work of Venus weakens a man and consumes the human body (p. 503). Tradition has it that Or- pheus was a Thracian and was torn apart in Thrace, a sad victim Of the furious women Of Mount Pangaeus. Thrace, according tO Alexander, means Aphrodite, that is Venus. Pangaeus comes from."pgp,”‘ppppm_ or all and fggpg" from pp£p§_or earth. So Pangaeus is all earth. Now as Orpheus was a man of pleasure, what other place could be SO suitable for him to die in than Thrace, that is the region Of Venus, and On the Mountain Pangaeus, meaning all of the earth. Salutati has compiled a collection Of purely ethical allegories of the sort which the men of the Renaissance loved so well. While these allegories are not hostile tO religion, they function without its aid, and the God Of the Hebrews is mentioned much less in the discussion Of Orpheus than the God Of the Greeks. It is interesting, besides, to see how classical in spirit Salutati is. Nothing over- much—-to metron-—could be the motto Of his Orpheus interpretation. Epicureans--a Greek and Roman 312 philOSOphical sect--rather than heretics of the Church are now the enemies Of virtue to be chastized in the Orpheus legend. If Boccaccio made Orpheus a humanist, Salutati makes him a wise man ruined by a false philo- SOphical system Of Greece and Rome. Truly we have come from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance in these Orpheus commentaries. CHAPTER FOUR ORPHEUS IN MEDIEVAL LITERATURE Though the medieval commentators tend to portray Orpheus and Eurydice as actors in an ethical drama. here and there in their discussions one catches glimpses of a different Orpheus, a knight whose come- liness is as famous as his skill on the lyre, and who is distinguished as much by loyalty to his lady as by his feats. Certainly the addition to the story Of ex- traneous material, biblical or legendary, on the part of various commentators helped to develop a less classi- cal and more medieval Orpheus. But it is in secular literature Of entertainment that we find Orpheus truly assimilated by medieval thought and emerging as a hero in the best romance tradition. Calliope taught Orpheus to sing and harp and he was a very virtuous man in love; for he loved only one woman, and when she died he sang songs continuously for her memory, and when he died he was named by 313 314 the gods the most loyal of lovers. Orpheus was a powerful man, a loyal and afdent lover. and was called the god Of melody. Orpheus exists in medieval literature mainly as a nOble figure Of courtly manners. The way he evolved into this figure will be the concern Of the present chapter. I shall try, first, to trace the richening of the Orpheus legend by its partial con- flation with the biblical story Of David—-this asso- ciation helped tO increase Orpheus' nobility--second, to Show how Orpheus became primarily a faithful lover and hero Of romance, and third, to discuss the use Of Orpheus as a central Character in the anonymous gig. .Qrfgg and in RObert Henryson's "Orpheus and Eurydice." In these two works we find the medieval flowering of the Orpheus legend, distant though it may seem from the original legend Of Greece and Rome. 1E. Langlois ed. Recueil d'Arts de Seconde Rhétorigue (Paris, 1902) II, 39-40. See also B. N. Fr. Sign. R63. R. which says "But the law of love is so strong that it fears neither pain nor death, and so it is folly to legislate to courtly love. For Or- pheus was a courtly lover (fins amans).“ Fol. 3v. According to Michault Taillevent. ”never was there a better lover than Orpheus." See P. Champion, Histoire Poetigue de XVe Siégip (Paris, 1925), p. 325. 315 Orpheus and David If the association Of Orpheus and Christ seemed to come naturally to medieval artists and writers, even more ready was the association of Or- pheus with David. The resemblances between the two men would have been quickly apparent to persons trained in biblical and classical typology. David came Of the line of Patriarchs; Orpheus was the son Of the god Apollo. Sent to a remote countryside to pasture his flock, David played upon his harp and later used it tO drive the evil spirit from Saul. Orpheus played his lyre and sang to the animals in the wilderness Of Thrace, and later soothed and won to his cause the infernal gods. In the account of David's surrounding himself with musicians and or- ganizing them into twenty-four classes (I Chron. 15:25), a medieval man would have seen hints not only Of Orpheus' pre-eminence among musicians but also Of his supposed discovery of the laws Of harmony and arrangement Of the tones of music. The story Of how David's lyre succeeded in calming Saul was inter- preted as prefiguring the power Of Christ's gentle 316 words over death, hell and the devil. Likewise Or- pheus' victory in the underworld was taken by at least one author-—the author Of the OvideMorglisé mentioned earlier--to be an analogue to Christ's triumph in the harrowing Of hell, the lyre serving as a figure for the cross. John Chrysostom held that David's harp, Victorious over Saul's evil spirit, was a figure for the divine love in which the charitable virtues unite as the sounds of each string in a Single consonance. Moreover, both David and Orpheus were the authors Of certain songs, the Psalms and the Orphica for which they received inSpiration from God. To an antique audience, the Palinode of Orpheus suggested a divinely inspired wisdom, just as did the Psalms. Certainly Justin Martyr, who, we will recall, passed on the text of Orpheus' Palinode, must have had Orpheus and David in mind when he said: 2See Evelyn Reuter, Les Representations de la Musigue dans la Sculpture Romans en France (Paris, 1938), p. 8ff. In the Confessio Amantis, John Gower hopes to see the Empedoclean strife Of the elements resolved by a Boethian Amor given form in the combined songof Arion, Orpheus and David, G. C. Macaulay ed. The English Works of John Gower (Oxford, 1900) I, 11.1053-1065. 317 For neither by nature nor by human concep- tion is it possible for men to know things so great and divine but by the gift which then descended from above upon the holy men, who had no need Of rhetorical art. nor Of uttering anything in a contentious or quar— relsome manner, but to present themselves pure to the energy of the Divine Spirit, in order that the divine plectrum itself, de- scending from heaven. and using righteous men as an instrument like a harp or a lyre, might reveal to us the knowledge Of things divine and heavenly (Ad Gr. 8, ANF, p. 294). We have seen how Orpheus was associated with schemes Of cosmological harmony. David tOO. wrote of the heavenly motions, praising God's power in the starry Sky (PS. 147,150), enjoining sun, moon and stars to praise God with him (PS. 148), and writing ”The heavens declare the glory Of God; and the firmament Sheweth his handywork” (PS. 19:1).3 Though medieval men could certainly have arrived at comparisons Of Orpheus and David on their own, they would have been aided by traditional and authoritative comparisons, both verbal and visual, dating from late antiquity. The relationship between words and pictures 3For further discussion Of David and the music Of the heavens, see Charles De Tolnay "Music of the Universe" Journal of the Walters Art Gallery VI (1943), p. 84ff. 318 is especially important in the case of Orpheus and David, as the two media exercised a reciprocal in- fluence on each other. Through artistic conflation, David acquired a new animal audience and Orpheus ac- quired a nimbus Of divine nobility, as well as regal costume. Moreover, the landscape shown behind Orpheus acquired certain Characteristic features from medieval psalter illustrations Of David. These transmutations found their way into literary treatments-~eSpecially treatments Of Orpheus, about whom less knowledge was established--and inSpired, in their turn, new illus- trations. Orpheus, sent, so to Speak, to David's country, returned a different man. Association Of the two men in the Middle Ages was of two types. Medieval writers compared Orpheus and David--somewhat as Clement Of Alexandria had com- pared them—-to Orpheus' disadvantage.4 In such com— parisons the two figures. are. as we would eXpect, 4For example, Georgius Pisidius, in his versi- fied account Of the Creation said "For however much Or- pheus smote his divinely tuned lyre [in cosmological song]. so much the more, David, seeing the glory of the heavens as they stretched from the height to the depths Of creation, sang out about them." Hexameron, g§_92, 1438-1439. 319 keep distinct from each other. But medieval artists. particularly the illustrators of manuscripts, tended to conflate Orpheus with David, Often using a picture Of the one as a.modelibr a picture Of the other. We find, for example, in an illuminated initial from a 13th century hagiographic manuscript (Ambrosiana B 32, 3r, Fig. 1), King David, for he wears a crown, playing a harp and seated in a position which we have come to associate with the Orpheus Of late antique mosaics. Above him are a group of animals in separate registers, their backgrounds recalling the circular compartments of English Orpheus mosaics. While a lion and a'bear are mentioned in the account Of David's Shepherd life (I Sam. 18:34), the camel and the rabbit seem clearly to have come from Orpheus iconography. The man who illustrated this manuscript may well have'had before See also Cassiodorus, Divine and Human Headings, tr. L. W. Jones (N. Y., 1946) II, 195 and Expositio in Psalterium 49 (50) 2; 70, 352; Cursor Mundi, ed. R. Morris, EETS, I, 428 and JOhn Lydgate, Reson apgpSen- suallyte, ed. E. Sieper (London, 1901-1903) I, l46ff. An anonymous commentator On the 'Eolggpes Of Theodulus made this comparison: "just as Orpheus played his lyre in hell, so David played before Saul; and just as Or- pheus softened the gods Of the underworld with his ‘harp, so David softened Saul's evil spirit." B. N. Lat. 8115, F01. 36v. 320 him a picture Of Orpheus among the animals, from which he borrowed heavily in his representation Of David. The process by which illustrators Of sacred texts modeled their figures and whole compositions on classical figures and ensembles has been explained by Kurt Weitzmann with a wealth Of examples.5 He has Shown that Epic poems, dramas, mythological handbodks and other products of classical literature were still appreciated in the Middle and Late Byzantine periods . . . where they had survived with illustrations. these. too, appealed tO the Byzantine public and the artist who desired to copy them (p. 45). Weitzmann believes, for example, that one possible source for a peculiarly Greco-Roman scene in a 10th century codex Of Nicander may have been a mosaic from the Piazza Amerina (p. 49)--the site, also, Of a floor mosaic of Orpheus. He points out that mythological representations Of classical and late antique vintage were highly important in the development of biblical iconography generally. 5Kurt Weitzmann, "The Survival of Mythological Representations in Early Christian and Byzantine Art and their Impact on Christian Iconography," Dumbarton Oaks Papers XIV (1960). 321 . . . The earliest illustrators Of the Old Testament, either Hellenized Jews or Chris- tians, relied on the formal vocabulary Of Greco-Roman art, having no pictorial tradi- tion Of their own . . . the first illustra- tors Of the Bible must have roamed through extensive classical picture cycles, search— ing not only for suitable figure types, but for whole compositions which were apprOpriate from the formal point Of view and had similar meanings as well (p. 57). There were sufficient visual and symbolic Similarities between Orpheus and David to insure that a.man wishing to illustrate a psalter. for instance. and needing a model for David would readily have seized on Orpheus. And so it is to pictures generally that we must look in order to see how Orpheus and David exchanged certain features—-features which in the case Of Orpheus, were to be retained and elaborated upon in literary treat- ments. Two groups Of illustrated manuscripts provide the most fruitful supply Of pictures for our investi- gations——Byzantine psalters Of the 11th century and two manuscripts Of the Homilies of Gregory of Nazian- zen from about the same period. The homily In Sancta Lumina--as was pointed out in our discussion Of the trOpe Of antiquity—-Spoke out against the pagan rites 322 of Orpheus among other pagan customs still practiced in Gregory's day. The illustrators Of the homily pro- vided pictures Of some Of these pagan characters and their deeds. The illustrated collections Of Psalms can be divided into two kinds. First, we have a classicizing group-~quite consciously making use Of antique originals as models and sources for details. These psalters are usually called aristocratic, for they are rather self- conscious works Of art with full-page, beautifully done pictures, and could only have been commissioned by ex- tremely wealthy persons. Rather than illustrate each psalm, the aristocratic psalter uses many illustrations before the text Of the first psalm, portraying the life Of David in a number Of ornate scenes and having little or no connections with the texts of the psahms themselves. Such illustrations fill the place which the portrait and biography Of a classical author would have taken at the beginning Of a classical manuscript. The portraits of the evangelists found at the beginnings of books in manuscripts of the New Testament are also remnants Of this tradition. The illustrators' attention to natural- istic anatomy and their use of personification and 323 allegory in these aristocratic psalters suggests that these works were done in imitation Of what the illus— trators thought tO be a Hellenic style, and prObably appealed to men Who had some acquaintance with early Greek authors. In such collections Of the Psalms, David appears as a classical young man surrounded by personifications and details which echo antique liter- ature. He looks much more like an Arcadian Shepherd from Theocritus than like King David and many of his features come from mosaics and bOOk illustrations Of pagan Orpheus. The second kind Of psalter illustration we might call the biblical variety; it too is related to late antique art, but is more muted and keeps much more to the text Of the Psalms. It is indebted to the gOOd shepherd side Of the Orpheus legend and tends to Show the influence Of catacomb art or Eastern por- traits of Orpheus the good shepherd. Two illustrations Of the biblical style Of Orpheus-David are to be found in the psalters Mount Athos VatOpedi 761 and Ambrosiana M. 54 Supp. (Figs. 2 and 3); both were painted about the 11th century. 324 The Ambrosiana portrait suggests to me the influence of catacomb fresco Of the sort which we eXamined in Chapter Two. David sits dressed in simple Shepherd's clothes in a little niche resembling those in which Orpheus portraits were painted in the catacombs. He is frontal and appears to be seated naturally on a hillock; his displaced lyre on display and his panto- crator pose suggest the Christian good-shepherd-Orpheus fresco in the cemetery Of Aurelius. The birds above the little niche where David sits may have been added by a later hand, but they—-particularly the peacocks-- remind one Of the peacocks of the resurrection found in catacomb portraits Of Orpheus as for example in the cemetery Of Domitilla. David is nimbed and near him sits a personification of Melodia. His body is anatomically sophisticated and yet appears in the clumsy frontal pose Of late antique Orpheus mosaics and frescos. Everything about the composition suggests that the artist had seen a wall painting or illustration in a mythological handbOOk dating from the 4th or 5th century before he painted this picture. The feeling on the whole is pastoral and David here could easily 325 be the Orpheus good—shepherd if Melodia were absent. The VatOpedi picture is clearly related to the Ambrosiana miniature but its drawing is more SO- phisticated. It differs also from the Ambrosiana picture in that it seems to adhere more clOsely to the story of David in the Bible--particularly to the account Of David's exile in the mountains Of En—Gadi as a Shepherd, for it provides a rockier terrain and gives greater prominence to the animals than did the Ambrosiana picture.6 In these two psalters David is not crowned but nimbed--an antique device which we saw in Orpheus iconography in the mosaic floor from Ptolemais. By his nimbus David is identified not yet as a king but as a person who has achieved divine rec- ognition. The classicizing or aristocratic style of Orpheus-David illustration is represented by two pic— tures about which much has been written. These are from the well-known Paris psalter, B. N. Gr. Coislin 139, and from the Vatical psalter, Cod. Barb. Gr. 320, 6For discussion Of this psalter see Kurt Weitz- mannPThe Psalter VatOpedi 761," Journal of the Walters Art Gallery X (1947). 326 both of 11th century date.' The two illustrations, as can clearly be seen (Figs. 4 and 5) are intimately related by their style and iconography. Because the Vatican psalter is closer to the biblical or pastoral style we discussed above, it would seem as if this were the archetype for the Paris psalter. The nimbed figure Of Melodia, while classical in conception and. dress, and the nimbed David among the rocks are close in treatment to their forerunners in the VatOpedi and Ambrosiana psalters. The details which most suggest the copying of antique Orpheus scenes or other antique groups are the fact that Melodia is partially naked-- as was the Orpheus of the more Obviously classicizing mosaics--as well as the fact that David and Melodia wear some kind Of circlet or head ornament rather like those worn by the Sibyl and Orpheus in an illustration from the Vatican Virgil, painted about the 5th century A.D. (Fig. 6), which is other reSpectS Of dress and handling of the figure is Similar to the Vatican psal- ter. The only discordant elements in the Vatican psal- ter are a nymph, a mountain god Of Bethlehem and a dog, who seem extraneous to a composition portraying a Hebrew 327 David. These figures are not well anchored to the terrain and may have been added from another source. The mountain god of Bethlehem has connections both with antique art and with Orpheus illustration in western manuscripts. The mountain god Of Bethlehem rests in the attitude of the classical Sleeping river god (Fig. 7) and was apparently OOpied from such a figure. It would seem as if a western artist had seen the Paris and Vatican.psalters or others very like them. Then, dimly remembering the pose Of Or- pheus-David or confusing it with the mountain god of Bethlehem, he drew Orpheus in the pose of a Sleep- ing river god in a cosmological illustration from a manuscript at Reims (Fig. 8). Such were the ways in which Orpheus acquired new attitudes and attributes. Kurt Weitzmann and H. Buchthal are in disa- greement as to the models for the personifications. Briefly, Weitzmann argues about the Paris psalter-- but the same position holds for the Vatican psalter—- that the figure of David with his sheep is central and that the personifications are extraneous and copied from other manuscripts. Thus the miniatures 328 are made up Of disconnected parts.7 H. Buchthal, on the other hand,8 feels that the Paris picture, partic- ularly, is related to Campanian landscape painting; he derives the figures of David and Melodia from the linked loving couples of antiquity who were sometimes found in such bucolic wall paintings. Buchthal dis— tinguishes between the David Of the Vatican psalter, who is frontal, and so derived from late antique Or- pheus illustration, and the Paris David, who is pre- sented in profile, and who he thinks is related to the illustrations Of Paris with Venus in bucolic sur- roundings. While it is true that the frontal Orpheus is more common in late antiquity, there are many mo- saics Of a classicizing style which Show Orpheus in profile, and the artist Of the Paris psalter could have seen one of these. Finally, Buchthal denies Weitzmann's idea that the personifications were, though antique in idea, original with the illustrator of the psalter, and feels that they may have been 7Kurt'Weitzmann, "Der Pariser Psalter," Jahr— buch fur Kunstwerke (1929). p. 178. 8H. Buchthal. The Miniatures Of the Paris Paella; (London. 1938). p. l3ff. 329 based on similar personifications in much earlier illustrations (p. 73). I have never seen any such personifications associated with Orpheus or David in antique art. In the Paris psalter the figures of David, Melodia and the mountain god are much more classical in style; they wear multicolored robes and the god 'wears a laurel fillet Of some sort; moreover, their musculature is revealed by their Hellenized clothing as though the artist wished to Show that he could luumfle anatomy in a classical way. David and Melodia remind one of Orpheus among the muses in a wall paint- ing from Pompei; the elaborateness Of costuming and detail is justified to some degree by the presence in the background of the picture Of a city where such fashionably dressed people might live. While the Vati- can psalter seems to be in the mosaic tradition Of a late antique frontal Orpheus, transmitted perhaps, through the Vatican Virgil, the more SOphisticated Paris psalter appears more likely to have been derived from antique wall painting, mosaics in a Hellenizing style from the lst or 2d centuries A.D. or classical codex illustration. 330 In the Vatican and Paris psalters, David is accompanied by several figures, and hence the illus- trations have considerable narrative emphasis. The illustrations of Orpheus from Gregory of Nazianzen's homily, In Sancta Lumina, however, Show Orpheus in isolation except for his animals, or even bereft Of these. Certain features Of these Orpheus illustra- tions suggest a common heritage with the psalter il- lustrations discussed above, as well as with the mosaics from late antiquity. In the Gregory manuscript from Mount Athos (Fig. 9f’0rpheus is placed on a mountain which could be reminiscent either of his deeds on Mount Pangaeus or Of his conflation with David in the psalters. He shares with David and with the Orpheus of the Vatican Virgil a sweet and youthful expression which apparently is meant to be classical and.perhaps is derived from the Apollo Kouros figure. He is frontal, and the ani- mals symmetrically grouped around him suggest mosaic work. Most clearly related to contemporary psalter art though, are the nimbus and the highly ornamented trousers, as well as the use Of the mountain outline as a backdrop 9Mount Athos Panteleimon 6, F01. 165a. 331 for the figure of Orpheus. It is interesting to note that the lyre of Orpheus rests on a little altar, perhaps related tO the sacred pillars in the aristo- cratic psalters or to the altars on which Orpheus Tauroctonos supports his lyre in the Italian sarcoph- agi discussed earlier. There is no particular reason for having the lyre on an altar unless the artist was copying a.manuscript which he held to be authoritative and which did have it so placed. The 11th century Byzantine carvers who made the Veroli casket, which has reliefs from pagan mythology, reproduced a number Of details--probably from classical codices—ewhich could'have no possible meaning tO them and yet had this same classical authority. A second Gregory manuscript (Fig. 10), now in Paris,10 features an Orpheus who is indistinguish- able from the David Of the biblical psalters except that he does not have Melodia'by him; the absence Of the anbmals may be accounted for also by the close relationship tO a psalter illustration of David where the Sheep may'have been much subordinated to the 10B. N. Gr. Coislin 239, Fol. 122v. 332 shepherd. This Orpheus is nimbed as were the Davids in the biblical—style psalters, and also rests his lyre on a small altar. Behind him is the framing" mountain which we saw in the aristocratic psalters.l Medieval authors and illustrators from the west who saw these various representations of Orpheus and David could easily have transmitted in their own work the new attributes which Orpheus acquired in his Byzantine travels. Orpheus becomes a solitary singer -—perhaps even an exile--in the mountains, or curious personifications replace the traditional underworld figures associated with him; he could become a river god; he is Often crowned and dressed in regal garb. He could, in short, become a kingly figure fit for a medieval romance like Sir Orfeo. Orpheus the Romance Hero The romance can be described briefly as a story Of adventure, whose hero, acting frequently lJ'For further discussion of Orpheus in these Gregory manuscripts, see Kurt'Weitzmann, Greek Mgthol- ogy in Byzantine Art (Princeton, 1951), pp. 67-8. 333 from the impulse of love, sets out upon a quest during which he undergoes many trials, meets supernatural be- ings in supernatural landscapes and has occasion to engage in lengthy monologues, dialogues, complaints and songs.12 Plainly, the legend Of Orpheus is well- suited to this genre. Aside from its narrative line which might almost be said tO be an archetypal romance, the legend lends itself in a number Of other ways to romance treatment. 'For one thing, its hero was a famous person Of classical antiquity, thus coming from one Of the favorite sources for knightly adventures. Greek or Latin myth, medievalized, prOVided the base for many a vernacular romance, though as Dorothy Everett Observes, ”Whatever the original home Of the romance hero, he is transformed into a knight and conforms to medieval ideas of knightly behavior" (p. 101). Second, the story Of Orpheus is about love which knows no law, and Offers much latitude for a treatment Of the psychology Of lover and loved one, as well as 12Dorothy Everett gives a fine account Of the genre in "A Characterization Of the English Medieval Romance," Essgys and Studies XV (1929), p. lOlff. 334 the philosophy Of courtly love-—a favorite subject-- perhaps one Should say one Of the principal subjects of romance. Romance turns the psychology Of the courtly amatory poet into narrative, just as the narrative Of Orpheus' and Eurydice's love comes to be psychologized in poems and romances. Third, the story of Orpheus is removed from the facts of daily existence, set in the past and in another country; it brings tO a medieval literature. Of entertainment wide-ranging possibilities for exotic costume, strange customs, magic and fabulous beasts, in the deeds Of Orpheus among the Thracians, the power Of his lyre, and his descent to the underworld. Stylistically, the writers Of medieval romances accommodated the Orpheus legend to their genre in other ways. They developed an interior life for Orpheus, and an eXpression of it in his songs, reflecting the new interest in the psychology Of the classical or mythological person. The Roman d'Eneas, written about 1155, makes Lavinia, who is hardly mentioned in Virgil's epic Of battles, adventures and voyages, into the hero- ine and deals at great length with her love for the 335 pious hero. Thus the focus of the Rgmgp_is no longer on the heroic combat Of Aeneas and Turnus for the hand Of Lavinia as a symbol Of Italian destiny, but rather on the interior lives of Aeneas and Lavinia themselves, Romances, in Short, were more concerned with psychology than with combat, with subjective presentation Of feel- ing than with Objective description of action. Romance also tended to medievalize classical heroes, not only in their ideals and.behaviour, but also in their houses, clothing, jewels, armor, methods of battle and customary pursuits. Even the fairies go hunting in the medieval manner in Sir Orfeo. It is not realism or contemporary description, but rather an idealization Of ordinary life that we find imposed by the romance upon its classical characters, both in text and in illustration; ordinary life becomes finer, more exotic, seen as remote from the present, while the ancient heroes become marvelously up tO date. In— terest in contemporary domestic detail is reinforced, in the romance, by an stylistic concern with descrip- tion, Often for its own sake. This concern was both a heritage Of the classical epic and a development 336 from the various uses Of the ornatus, amplificgtio and descriptio of clerical rhetoric. But where Homer gives a catalogue Of ships, the romance, appealing to the world Of faShion, tells us what Gawain was wearing or what Arthur ate for dinner. Romance lOOks to Greece and Rome for many Of its characters, but tO Paris and London for its clothes. It takes great interest in feasts, in favorite dishes Of nObles, well known wines, entertainment such as the hunt, and the latest fashions in wooing and singing. Unlike the didactic neO-Latin literature Of the period--such as the allegorical 2g Planctu Naturge Of Alan Of Lille--vernacu1ar romance is very much up tO date in its habits and properties. But since it strives for that which is larger than life and out of the ordinary, everything it touches tends to be heightened and embellished, as indeed the medievalized story Of Orpheus is. One other feature Of romance style is its pen- chant for talk. It has sticomythic conversation after the plays of Seneca, long introspective monologues imi- tated from Ovid's Amores and Heroides, and finally dia- logues within monologues and intercalated songs taken 337 from the form of the Menippean satire made pOpular by Boethius and Martianus Capella and later by Alan Of Lille's De Planctu. This use of dialogue, conversa— tion and song within dialogue is particularly import- ant with reSpect tO Orpheus. The marriage Of the Or- pheus legend with the romance style produced, among other things, several soliloquies, complaints and songs, to which we may attribute, at least in part, Orpheus's subsequent reputation as a minstrel. We shall say more about this later. As early as King Alfred's translation Of Boethius, what might be termed a romantic approach to the Orpheus legend was beginning to take shape. Alfred renders the Openihg Of the Orpheus meter in the Consolation: "Once upon a time it came to pass that a harp player lived in the country called Thracia," thus setting the story in an indefinite fairy-tale time. He idealizes the characters in what was later to become standard romance style, for the "harper was SO gOOd, it was quite unheard Of . . . he had a wife without her equal, named Eurydice." Alfredsupplies us with the information, to reappear in Sir Orfeo, 338 that after his wife's death, Orpheus "was Off to the forest, and sate upon the hills both day and night." When he descends to hell, Orpheus SO Charms Cerberus that the dog of hell wags his tail. The dwellers Of' hell meet Orpheus enthuSiastically and bring him tO their king and help him in his plea (Op. cit. pp. 116- 117) because all men are vassals to the lord of love. None of this is in Boethius or any other classical source; Alfred has presented the whole story Of Or- pheus from the perspective of a medieval English nobleman. Such elaborations Of the Orpheus legend as Alfred's provided the impetus for similar elaborations in medieval poetry. A Latin continuation Of Capella's De Nuptuiis, prObably Of the 12th century, contains a long passage On Orpheus and Eurydice. This poem features an elaborate romance-like underworld topog- raphy and emphasizes the lovers and their story. In it, Orpheus is made to Sing a long hymn to the gods and a story of their deeds, then a song about his descent tO the underworld and what he found there when he sought his wife. The songs are highly ornate and the gods and their deeds are described minutely. 339 At last the sad Orpheus raises a tomb for Eurydice --after four hundred lines of mournful song and ten days Of fasting, "weeping. he raised a tomb covered with laurel, gems and gold inscribed on the door this sad epitaph 'this stone contains the modest remains Of Eurydice . . . her husband killed her at the gate Of hell and one urn holds the ashes of their double flesh . . ."13 This poem exhibits just the kind of ingenuity that would be demonstrated by a modern student if he were aSked, for example, to write a continuation Of Paradise Lost. Somewhere, a medieval teaCher had set a student to writing a continuation and elaboration Of Martianus' poem, or, more likely, of one Of the episodes from it. School exercises Of this kind were Of great importance for the growth of Orpheus as a romance hero. From the 11th through the 15th century. it was common practice for teachers to make students write poems 133, Boutemy. "Une Version Médiévale Inconnue de la Légende d'Orphéefl Hommages a Joseph Bidez et a Franz Cumont (Brussells, 1949). P. 53ff, and 1. 649ff. 340 which elaborated classical stories in order to give the student Of rhetoric practice in metrics as well as in the use of the ornatus, effictio and similitudo which were associated with the teaching Of the figprae verborum and sententiarum in the schools. Thus it came about that many undistinguished if ingenious lyrical poems embodying Classical subject matter were produced during the Middle Ages. Often these exercises put into a vernacular language, or more Often into Latin, parts Of Ovid's Heroides, Amorep, Art of_Love, or individual fables from the Metamorphoses. As a result Of this practice, one can see the increasing incursion of myth- ological allusion and story into the courtly love lyrics, for example, Of Guillaume de Machaut, his pupil Eustache Deschamps, and Christine de Pisan. NOr was Chaucer above such rehetorical exercises as the Knight's Tale 4 . demonstrates.l Here Orpheus is one Of the many 14A‘ballade by Jean 1e Mote is an interesting example of this sort Of classicizing school exercise. The poem is about a love-sick lady, modeled on one Of the heroines of Ovid's Heroides. She says that She is so unhappy that She can hear nothing, not even "Dyodonas a ses cleres buisineS,/Ne Orpheus le dieux de melodie,/ Ne Musicans a ses chancons divines,/Ne Dedalus Od sa gaye maisterie." She concludes "Je suis avec Dido a 341 allusions which amplify the thought Of Jean 1e Mote. Other medieval poets make Orpheus the subject Of the entire rhetorical poem. These poems are generally far longer than any classical story Of Orpheus and Eurydice and are extreme examples Of the amplificatio or rhetorical elaboration Of a narrative detail by description and dialogue. Such poems on Orpheus include dialogue, intercalated lyrics, apostrophes, great elaboration of landscape and costume, and sometimes a happy ending. In essence, they are new poems which use the legend of Orpheus and Eurydice for a base but which have little to do with the version of the story given by Ovid and Virgil, to whose works they are nominally indebted. Several such works are extant. They include a five-hundred line poem on Orpheus by Thierry Of St. Trond; a shorter poem by a certain Gautier, a friend of Marbode the writer Of the lapidary: and a section on Orpheus in a long conversation poem by Godefroy Of compagnie: / Ovide, ou sont remedes femenines?". This. poem was printed by E. Pognon, "Ballades Mythologiques, Humanisme et Renaissance V (1938). p. 408. 342 of Reims, called his "Dialogue with Calliope." These poems are all Of 11th century date. The 12th century offers two poems on Orpheus from a manuscript in the Laurentian Library at Florence--their editor suggests that they might have been written by Abelard15--and a six-hundred line poem on Orpheus which is the contin- uation Of the De Nuptuiis referred to earlier. All Of these poems are of minor interest poetically, but very important as evidence for the growth Of a romance tra- dition around the figure Of Orpheus. As they are rather Similar in content, a few extracts from these poems will be sufficient to illustrate the kind Of changes that the Orpheus myth was undergoing at that time. Thierry's poem shows the poet's indebtedness to allegorical prose commentaries on the Orpheus myth such as that written by Johannes Scotus. The following lines deal with Orpheus' actions after he has lOOked back and lost Eurydice. 15Wilhelm Meyer, "Zwei Mittellateinische Lieder in Florenz," Studi Letterari e LinguistiCi Dedicati a PiO Rajna (Milan. 1911)- 343 Unable to control his thoughts, lover turned his eyes to beloved. Who can Oppose the Fates? Who can escape the Fates? Already approaching the light, already almost his, his Eurydice is seized back, and seized She becomes the Shade she had been. The noble lut- anist, relying on the muse, soon return- ing again to the desolation Of the low- est pit, would soften stony hearts with his peace-bringing lyre, would appease the Parcae, bend the Eumenides; weeping he would play, playing repeat his prayers —-and his genius cannot but have its effect. But he flees from the Stygians, hateful even in their Offering Of gifts, disdaining to become a suppliant to evil. SO, trusting with all the power Of his spirit in the divinity Of his art, bravely he tOOk what he desired from Styx by force. Thus art, aided by firm purpose, vanquished nature, Showing that all things yield to Lady Virtue.l6 Thierry has expanded Ovid's brief account Of this event tO almost thirty lines in his own poem, making use Of various techniques Of the ornatus, such as repetitio, conversio and complexio. Thierry is really more interested, one feels, in the rhetorical possibilities Of the myth than in the myth itself. 16The text Of Thierry's poem is printed in full in F. W. Otto, Commentarii Critici in Codices Bibliothecae Gissensis (Gissen, 1842). I have used the translation of Peter Dronke. "The Return Of Eur- Ydicel" WIS; XXIII (1962) . 344 His curious ending for the story, with its suggestion that Eurydice is returned to Orpheus a second time because Of his power of eloquence, is rather ambigu— ously presented. Thierry is trying, perhaps, to turn allegory into narrative and does not succeed tOO well. He seems tO be relying on one Of the commentaries which tell us that Orpheus, after the descent into temporalia, conquered it and so regained good judgment, that is eu dike, and returned tO the light; but he fails to see that Eurydice is allegorically, not lit— erally, returned. Gautier and Godefroy also give positive end- ings to the story, but they simply change the story. The former tells us that "at the god's command his wife is given baCk to him."17 The latter, whose in- terest in the legend lies as much with Calliope the mother Of Orpheus as with her son, says that it was by inSpiration with Calliope's sacred harmony that Orpheus effectively convinced the gods tO release 7"Imperioque dei redditur uxor ei." The text of Gautier's poem has been published by M. Del- bouille "un Mystérieux Ami de Marbode: 1e 'Redoubt— able Poete,' Gautier," Le Moyen Age VI (1951), p. 229. 345 his wife; once free, according to Godefroy, Eurydice fled from the portals Of hell and the Furies.18 Al— though the changed ending is handled abruptly by Gautier and Godefroy, and weakly by Thierry, one can see that these medieval Latin poets desired a happy ending for the story enough to overlook the inconsis- tency Of their nominal method, the ornatus, with their actual method, which was to alter rather than to amp- lify. According to Peter Dronke, a tradition of a happy ending for the Orpheus story was begun in the 11th century by the writers of such Latin poems. Dronke has found another version Of a poem first printed by Meyer, which seems to depend on Godefroy in part and is much Shorter, with a happy ending. The poem, which begins in Meyer's version, "Forma voce, lingua bona" has the Virgilian unhappy ending, but in Dronke's version—-discovered, interestingly, on the first page Of a manuscript of Gregory's Moralia 18Text published by A. Boutemy, "Trois Oeuvres de Godefroid de Reims," Revue du Moyen Age Latin III (1947), p. 357. "Et redivivus fores erebi fugit atque furores." 346 in Job, there are a number Of romance details as well as a happy ending. For his locks and voice and eloquence, Orpheus alone among all Thracian men was loved uniquely by Eurydice. Overcome by his love, she longs tO flee from all others, and while She flees from her pursuers, the harbinger Of death seeks her with his bite, the serpent, crushed by her heel. The lute's sweet melodies, which you temper, tuneful Calliope, compelled the Oaks to follow that spirit--yet this does not succeed in removing the heart's sorrow. The poet laments, his one and only Eurydice is not there. He bewails Eurydice and then the lutanigt brought back his one and only Eurydice. In this poem Orpheus' beauty has been made as important an attribute as his eloquence. These qualities, moreover, are no longer mere descriptive tags, but provide motivation for the narrative. Eurydice loves Orpheus because Of his looks, voice 19This poem is from MS Augsburg Bischofliches Ordinariat 5, Fol. lr, published by Dronke. pp. 210ff. I use his translation. A companion piece in the Laur- enziana MS from which Meyer took his version Of ”Forma voce" and beginning "0 Fortuna Quantum est Mobilis, ” has been published by M. Delbouille, "Trois Poesies Latines Inedits," Melanges Paul Thomas (Bruges, 1930). In it, Orpheus says Of himself in the last stanza, "From hell I returned a widower” (p. 180). The poem is Of particular interest because it lets Orpheus speak in the first person and Sing a complaint--other- wise it is fairly conventional. 347 and eloquence, much in the same'way that the lady Of a romance might come to love, from a distance, the fine qualities of her knight. Love by reputation was to be the motivation in RObert Henryson's "Or- pheus and Eurydice“ when Eurydice, a riCh queen of Thrace, is struck by the good report Of Orpheus and sends for him to come and marry her. So, in "Forma voce," the author has substituted for a classical account Of Orpheus the romance convention Of the reputation of fame. Finally, Orpheus' lament in this poem is paraphrased--almost quoted--instead of being merely described in intensity and duration. It is only a step farther to the plaints, songs and dialogue Of medieval romance which enter the Orpheus story with Sir Orfeo and Henryson's poem on the lovers. As I said earlier, there were a variety Of ways in which the story Of Orpheus and Eurydice was suitable material for the vernacular romance. Only in one re- spect did it fail to conform to the romance schema and that was with regard tO the ending Of the story. In classical accounts Of Orpheus he does not get Eury- dice back and they do not live happily forever after 348 in the upper world. The medieval Latin poets dis- cussed above were evidently perturbed by this sad finish to a tale Of love and several Of them changed it tO conform to their own views of a good love story. Why should it be that the medieval literary view of love material should differ SO much from the classical? First, we might note that romance as a genre replaced the hero Of classical epic with the heroine, and the all male audience with the female audience. In epic and in the French Chanson de Geste, the emphasis had been on masculine comradeship and the great blows the various heroes struCk and received. When fighting is the most important human activity, life will be seen as a succession Of personal encoun- ters between antagonists in which every sword blow or Spear thrust is remembered and elaborated on. And people must be killed. But as the heroic story became chivalric, women became part Of the action and of the audience. In epic, women had said goodbye to men as they went off to war and like Andromache. they wept when their men were killed; in romance men go to meet women and 349 usually only the villains or the followers Of the hero not involved in love stories themselves are killed. Romance has a peacetime audience, and this audience, like the audience for the kitchen romances on the pages Of the Saturday Evening Post, has no liking for tragedy; instead the romancer is interested in fighting which is motivated by and leads to the sat- isfactions Of the passions Of love. If the fighter is killed, the lovers cannot live happily ever after. Equally, the knight Of romance undergoes arduous ad- ventures, quests and tests for which he is rewarded by the hand Of the lady, and so his lady must somehow remain alive until he gets to her dungeon or slays her threatening monster. Thierry, Gautier. and Godefroy Show that they were influenced by such conventions when they changed the Orpheus story to reward the hero at the end. Ill- ustrators Of medieval manuscripts as well, saw the legend Of Orpheus and Eurydice as a romance which should have a happy ending or so we must infer from their works, which frequently provide one or—ewhat is almost as telling--fail to illustrate the unhappy one. 350 In an illustration from John Lydgate's Egll Of Princes (Fig. 11) Orpheus and Eurydice are courting; he seems tO win her love by the power of music and there is no suggestion in therfiniature Of the death of Eurydice or her loss because Of Orpheus' looking back. Both Orpheus and his wife are dressed in aris- tocratic medieval costume and, as far as the painter ‘was concerned, Seem to be people of high degree in the most up to date fashions. Christine de Pisan wrote a work on courtly behaviour set in an Ovidian framework and called the Letter Of Othea to Hector. In the text, which deals with the prOper actions Of the knight, Or- pheus goes to the gates Of hell in search of his wife. There is no suggestion that he gets her baCk. The author uses this story to Show the knight that he Should not search after temporalia and so be diverted from his proper course. The caption for the illustra- tion Of Orpheus' quest illustrates this idea for it reads "go not to the gates Of hell" (Fig. 12). But the artist who illustrated the text seems to disagree 'with his author. In a scene very reminiscent of the 351 fairy landscape of Sir Orfeo, Orpheus stands in an enchanted land. Before him, Eurydice seems to be under a Spell of enchantment rather than dead, Since she sleeps peacefully on the ground while Orpheus plays the lyre which will, perhaps, awaken the sleeping beauty from her trance. The illustrations from Lyd- gate and Christine are ambiguous in meaning, but a miniature from B. M. Harley 4431 (Fig. l3)makes the happy ending quite clear. A very courtly Orpheus leads an entranced Eurydice away from hell by the power Of his music and there is nO suggestion in the picture that Eurydice is SOOn to return. Another min— iature from a Christine de Pisan manuscript (Fig. 14) contains a series of pictures resembling a motion pic- ture film strip in which Orpheus has delivered Eurydice from hell and leads her away from a Leviathan-like hell mouth; the devils atop the structure look rather baffled, and one gets the impression that they do not eXpect her baCk. The cOurtly clothes, attitudes and manners of Orpheus and Eurydice as well as the narrative implica- tions themselves indicate that whatever the texts for which these illustrations were drawn may have said. 352 the artists conceived of the Orpheus legend as a chapter in a medieval romance. Orpheus the Magician. There was a tradition Of Orpheus as a wonder worker or magician.whiCh cer- tainly contributed to the more elaborate romance treatments Of his legend. Christine de Pisan hints at such an Orpheus in her Vision where she says that "Orpheus made such melodius sounds on the harp that by the proportions of his harmonies he cured several maladies and made sad men happy."20 Here Christine may be thinking of how the young David cured Saul, but attributes this ability to Orpheus; perhaps also, she knew Of the tradition Of Orpheus-Artephius. The attributes Of Orpheus were assigned to a certain Artephius by Ristoro d'Arezzo in his 99m: .pgpitione de MondO (1282). Ristoro is discussing man as a microcosm. The great Artephius--miraculous philoso- pher, Of whom it is stated that he under- stood the voices Of birds and Of the other animate creatures, who being in the woods at times in the great mountains playing 20Lavision Christine, ed. Sister Mary L. Towner (Washington, D. C., 1932). P. 120. 353 for delight an instrument Of his to which sound would gather the birds and other creatures of the place, according as it is stated and we have many times seen depicted by the learned artists: which creatures would go round him rejoicing and as if dancing and singing eaCh one according to its own ‘ song. This passage is of interest since it associates Orpheus with a person who has magical powers and great wisdom and who lived in remote surroundings, but, more import- ant, it tells us that this person was depicted by art- ists; Ristoro seems to suggest that the pictures were Of a magical figure who may have had the attributes of other Wizard-like persons.22 Ristoro apparently 21See H. D. Austin, ”Artephius-Orpheus," Specu- 1pm XII (1937), whose translation Of Ristoro I have used. 22Unfortunately the picture Of Orpheus presented by Albricus' mythographic handbook, the De Deorum Imagin- ibus Libellus, ed. A. Van Staveren in Auctores Mythggra- phi Latini (Leyden, 1742), p. 924f. is rather conventional. Albricus says that ”Orpheus is one Of the number Of the gods and so he was painted (pingebatur). He was a man in the clothes Of a philOSOpher, a lyre vibrating in his hand. Before him were various wild animals who lick his feet-- wolves, lions, bears, serpents. Various birds fly around him; mountains andtrees bend towards him--he who--his wife following him--is seen to look back at her, but hell holds her.” This synchronization Of the two parts of the legend is presented in a manuscript illustration from the Libel- lpp (Fig. 15) which departs from the description sufficient- ly to dress Orpheus in medieval garb. give him a veille or rebec and add a unicorn to the animals. The identity of Albricus has been discussed by Eleanor Rathbone, "Master Alberic Of London, 354 derives the fusion Of Orpheus and Artephius from the fact that the original wizard and magical master Arte- phius was supposed to have written a work on the voices Of animals, and there is a detail in the Lithica, a late antique poem ascribed to Orpheus, which tells how a man may learn the voices of birds and animals by the use Of a stone called /f./7ra(/a(/; 4" .23 Orpheus the Minstrel. Constantine Africanus (1015-1087), Chaucer's "Cursed Monk" tells a story in whiCh Orpheus appears as a kind of minstrel-~in part a David healing Saul--and in part a wizard singer. The story appears in Adam Of Fulda in a rather butchered version. Adam Speaks Of a Viatico of Rufus Constantinus "in which Orpheus by his music changed the heart Of a prince from sadness tO joy; he woke the sleepers; put Mythographus Tertius Vaticanus,” Medieval and Renaissapce Studies I (1941). 23Austin, Op. cit., p. 254. Other versions Of the Orpheus—Artephius confusion exist in medieval liter- ature but they link Orpheus more with romance than with magic. In the Romap des Sept Sages, ed. Jean Misrahi (Paris, 1933), prologue, 1.27ff. there is a reference to great musicians who played harps and viols. "And ‘well have I heard it tOld"says the author, "how Alpheus the harper went to hell to get his wife." He concludes that it was Apollo and not Pluto who made the covenant with Alpheus. 355 to sleep the vigilant and cured melancholy."24 The story is better told by JOhannes Aegidius Of Zamora, who quotes Constantine: Orpheus said Emperors 'finvite me to their banquets, in order that they may gain de- light from me, and I enjoy it too, when I can bend their souls from anger to pity. "25 A suggestion Of the idea of Orpheus as a minstrel occurs in Baudri Of Bourgueil. He speaks Of the cus- tom Of minstrels singing for their supper at the ban- quets of great men. In his poem to Odo, Bishop of Ostia, Baudri says, speaking Of a banquet ”inter can- tores Orpheus alter erO.“26 And this seems tO have been a familiar statement made by the dependent to his patron as early as Carolingian times, for Sedulius Sco- tus, in a request for more funds from his patron, said: 24Adam Of Fulda, Musica, Gerbert III, 334. There is an informative article on Constantine Africanus, per- haps best.known for his work De Coitu, by Maurice BaSSan, “Chaucer's 'Cursed Monk.‘ Constantinus Africanus," in Medievgl Spudies XXIV (1962), p. 127ff. 25£r§_flp§igp, Gerbert II, 392. 6Les Oeuvres Poetigues de Baudri de Bourgueil, ed. Phyllis Abrahams (Paris, 1926) CCXLIV, 24. 356 I am a writer, I am a musician and I am another Orpheus. But I am thirsty and would like some beer. The idea that Orpheus was himself a minstrel<1r pro- fessional singer occurs in a.madrigal by Francesco Landini in.which Orpheus is "singing" (cantando) of "Love's Divine Son."28 The notion Of Orpheus as a singer iS implicit in the Ovidian account where Or- pheus sings a song. Thus Orpheus was occasionally associated with the minstrel or itinerant Singer and was, as we shall now see, sometimes the subject Of their songs. Sir Orfeo One Of the finest Of the non-cyclic medieval English romances is Sir Orfeo, an anonymous poem written about the end of the 13th century. This ro- mance exists in three manuscripts, the earliest Of 27Sedulius Scotus, ii, 49 in Poet. Lat. Carol. III, MGH. 8See "Sy DOlce nO SonO ChOl' Lir' Orfeo" in Willi Apel and Archibald Davison, Historicgl Antholggy of Mugic (Cambridge, Mass., 1949), pp. 57-59. 357 which, the Auchinleck manuscript in the Advocates' Library in Scotland, seems to be the best; the other two derive from it or a common archetype and are cor- rupt in manyplaces.29 The work is only a little over six-hundred lines long and could easily have been memorized by a minstrel, indeed the more corrupt later manuscripts may have been written from memory by a professional story teller. The poem tells Of King Orfeo Of Winchester (nee Thrace) and his wife Heurodis, their separation and eventual reunion. Heurodis, asleep at undern-tide or noon—day under a grafted tree, is visited by a fairy king from the other world who takes Heurodis there, returns her to the orchard where he found her and tells her that the next day he will-carry her Off to the fairy land forever. She is brought back to Orfeo in shock and the next day he comes to the orchard with a host Of armed men to the same tree to defend his wife from the fairy king. In spite Of her guard She is 29The best edition Of the poem is that Of A. J. Bliss (Oxford, 1961). He discusses manuscript problems and gives a bibliography of the poem through 1954. All quotations from Sir Orfeo will come from this text. 358 taken Off. Orfeo mourns and resolves tO give over his kingdom tO his steward and gO to live in the woods. He becomes a hermit, his beard grows long and his clothes ragged. Where he used to eat deli- cacies he now eats roots. He still plays his harp. however, better than any man, and charms the animals Of the woods. One day he sees Sixty fairy ladies hunting and haWking by a stream and his wife among them. He follows them through a rock into a flat green land like Paradise, in the middle of which is a castle ornamented with precious stones. There he sees people whom men thought dead but who had been brought tO the land Of the fairies—-some of them mutilated, burned or mad. He also sees his wife asleep under a grafted tree. Telling the porter Of the castle that he is a minstrel; he gains entrance and sings before the fairy king and queen, SO'Well that the king tells him to name his own reward, and he asks for Heurodis. Orfeo and his wife leave the fairy land tO return to Winchester where they put up at the house Of a beggar, and Orfeo, meeting his steward on the street, pretends to be a minstrel and 359 asks for fOOd. The steward is generous and brings him to the court where he performs on his harp. Al- though the steward recognizes the harp as the prOperty Of his lost king, he does not recognize the bearded and ragged Orfeo. Orfeo tests the steward's loyalty by telling the company that he got the harp from a man killed by lions, and the steward, thinking that the king is dead, begins to mourn. Then Orfeo re- veals himself, and he and his wife return to the court with music and rejoicing. It is quickly evident that this account bears only Slight resemblance to the traditional story Of Orpheus and Eurydice as we see it in Ovid, Virgil or Boethius. The author Of Sir Orfeo did not SO much. make a romance out Of the classical story as create a new story which draws upon the Orpheus material we have been considering, taking from it some but cer- tainly not all Of its details. The gradual incursion into the traditional or classical story Of a variety Of biblical, popular, ethical, and literary materials 'has contributed tO the fitting of the Orpheus legend for romance, and, as I shall try to demonstrate, 360 medieval commentaries on the legend provide a particu— larly interesting motif for this poem. But when we stop tO examine Sir Orfeo we see that it relies more on the imagination Of the author than on any one source.30 Though the poem has a number of features in common with Celtic otherworld legend and romance, as many authors have shown, it also has its Share Of de- tails which belong tO the transmuted classical, patris- tic and iconographic traditions Of Orpheus which we have been examining. NO single tradition is consist- ently developed throughout the work. For example, 0A variety of sources, all conjectural, have been suggested for the narrative Of Sir Orfeo. Those positions advanced before 1954 are summarized and dis- cussed in Bliss's introduction. J. B. Severs, "Ante- cedents Of Sir Orfeo," Studies in Honor Of Albert Baugh (Philadelphia, 1961), sees influence mainly from Alfred's Boethius translation, Celtic legend and Walter Map's tale of the Knight Of Little Britain in De Nugis Curi- alium. Constance Davies, "Classical Threads in 'Orfeo'" ppg LVI (1961) argues that the poem depends on a mix- ture Of Map and Virgil, whose underworld has an elm Of dreams and an architectural description Of the gate Of hell. She also sees a parallel between the abduction Of Heurodis and seasonal abduction stories in Celtic legend such as the story Of Culhwch and Olwen and the Vita Gildae. Dorena Allen, "Orpheus and Orfeo: the Dead and the Taken," Medium Aevum XXXIII (1964) suggests that the living dead people Orfeo sees may come from Irish legends Of supernatural substitutions Of dead people. 361 though the poem has often been connected with the kind Of Celtic otherworld reached by crossing over water, the only water in the poem is a stream that the fairy women ride near and a moat around the castle in the fairy world. But these are phenomena natural to woods and castles of the time and do not seem to be signifi- cantly magical bodies of water. Latin legend supplies the names of the hero and heroine as well as the gene— alogy Of Orfeo, But curiously, "His fader was comen Of King PlutO,/ & his moder Of King Juno" (11.43-4). The author seems to have no idea that Pluto was the king Of hell or indeed who these classical deities were, though he knows Dat sum-time [they] were as gOdes y-hOld (1.45). Though Pluto was "kyng Of Fayerye" in Chaucer's Mer- chant's Tale (1.2227) and is curiously described as Pluto, the elrich incubus,/ In cloke Of grene, his court usit no sable. in Dunbar's Golden Targe,31 the author of Sir Orfeo 3 . . . 1The Poems Of William Dunbar, ed. W. M. Mackenz1e (London, 1950), p. 116. In the 13th century poem Lg Turnoiment d'Antecrist by Hugo de Berti, printed in Thomas Wright's edition of St. Patrick's Purgatory (Lon- don, 1844), p. 111, Pluto and Proserpine are the king 362 seems not to know the name Of the king of fairy. He certainly does not connect Orpheus and Pluto as an author directly following a classical account might. On the other hand, the fact that Heurodis is seized at undern-tide is directly and I believe, consciously, related to the Patristic tradition I have been con- cerned with. Moreover, the word undern-tide associ- ated with fairy activities occurs a number Of times in the poem, and is a structural motif in a way that certain Of the Celtic details are not. The time Of day during which the king Of fairy comes to Heurodis and then takes her away, is, I think, the point at which we can see a connection between the medieval commentaries on the classical Orpheus legend and the plot Of the Orfeo romance. The season Of Heu- rodis' capture was May, a time Of fairy activity and we should recall that medieval dream visions of other and queen Of hell with a court made up of classical gods and demigods, biblical devils, and evil Christians. 363 beings and other worlds usually take place in May. "Fresche May" becomes a personified being who Speaks to the poet in Dunbar's Thistle and the Rose; in his Golden Tppgg, another dream vision poem, the action occurs in May. In Gower's Confessio Amantis, the lover has his long vision in that month. We learn in Sir Orfeo that this particular May day was a very hot one and that " bis ich quen, Dame HerodiS,/ TOk to maidens of priis,/ & went in an vndrentide/ To play bi an orchard-Side" (11.63-6). A little further on we learn that the queen grew tired and slept under an "ympe-tre" till "after none, /pat vnder-tikewas a1 y-done" (11.75-6). When Heuro- dis recounts the story Of her visitation by the fairy king, she uses the same words: "As ich lay pis vnder- tide" (1.133). In order to prevent the abduction of his queen, Orfeo makes plans. "Amorwe pe vnder-tide is come,/ & Orfeo hap his armes y—nome,/ & wele ten hundred kni3tes wip hipfl (11.181-3), but to no avail. When Orfeo is living as a wild man in the woods he frequently sees supernatural beings. 364 He mi3t se hip_bisides (Oft in hot vnder—tides) be king O fairy wip his rout Com to hunt him a1 about Wip dim cri & bloweing. (11.281-285) When Orfeo gets tO the world Of the fairy king, he sees a number of people lying about before the castle' --all taken from the world Of men--"Ri3t as pai Slepe her vnder-tides," (1.402) and among them is his queen Heurodis. This seems to be an inordinate number of times to mention a certain hour of the day in any romance and particularly one as vague about time and space as Sir Orfeo. Bliss eXplains that the word "vnder- tide" means morning or noon.32 I suggest that we take the word as meaning noon, and that the super- natural events which take place in this poem will thereby become more meaningful. Psalm 90 (AV: 91), one Of the most famous psalms of the Psalter, provides a possible, though 339§Q 2. gives a number Of citations for un- dern as midday, though assigning the "vnder-tide" Of Sir Orfeo to 1. morning. Trevisa, it is mentioned in 2. translates Higden's p. nona meridiana as noon and Bartholomaeus Anglicus' Q§_Nat. Prgp. VIII, xxviii p. meridie as ME ”undornetide." 365 admittedly conjectural explanation for the use of "vnder-tide" in Sir Orfeo. In verses 3-6 David asks God to "deliver me from the snare Of the hunters . . . from hostile attack and from the noon-day demon (dae— monio meridiano)." It was thought in Christian an- tiquity that demons were particularly powerful at noon—day because the heat Of the sun directly over- head, in conjunction with a heavy meal, rendered man weaker than usual. Patristic writers elaborated this idea and went on to say that acedia or Spiritual Sloth threatens men, particularly cloistered and holy men, at noon.33 Patristic commentaries on the Psalms are of particular interest. St. Augustine in his commen- tary was hard put to eXplain the noon—day demon. He said that we should take the "demon that destroyeth - . . 34 in the noon-day [as] a Violent persecution." But 3Background on man's susceptibility tO super- natural influence at noon-day has been collected by R. Caillois ”Les Demons de Midi." §§§_CXV (1937). Rudolph Abesmann, O.S.A. discusses the idea in the works Of the Fathers in "The 'Daemonium Meridianum' and Greek and Latin Patristic Exegesis," Traditio XIV (1958). 34Expositions on the BOOk Of Psalms, PNF, p. 448. He is followed in this by Cassiodorus, Expositio ig_Psalterium, pp 70, 652. 366 many Christians who are persecuted, he goes on to say, “failed amid their torments under the blazing fire Of persecution, as before the demon Of noon-day and denied Christ" (p. 449). He concludes that one resists these demons by faith. Augustine's view be- came one of the two main interpretations during the Middle Ages (Arbesmann, p. 23). The other, and equally interesting view is that held by St. Jerome, who identified the noon-day demon as Satan come to tempt man from the true path, when he is weakest.35 Richard Of St. Victor explained that'tum summa luce et fervore daemones ad nos veniunt,"36 and it should not be forgotten that in Milton's Paradise Lost, Satan enters the Garden in the heat Of noon. I suggest, then, that Heurodis was particularly susceptible to the approach Of the fairy king because he is tO be seen as related tO the noon-day demon. A number Of points in the poem bear this idea out. When Orfeo 35Tractatus sive ngiliae in Psalmos, ed. G. Morin, Anecdota Maredsolana. (Maredsous, 1897), pp. 115-117. See also Bernard Of Clairvaux and Hugh of St. Cher, pp 183, 199 and Qpera Omnia (Venice, 1703) II, 241v. 3§Agpgpppi9ne§_My§tic§§;in Psalmos, RE 196, 395. 367 first sees the king Of the fairies with his host out in the woods, they are hunting at noon ("hot vnder- tides"); the emphasis on the heat in the description links the king with the noon-day demon in several ‘ways. In a commentary on a line of the passage from the Vulgate in which the reference tO the noon-day demon appears--specifically David's fear of the "snare Of the hunters" (laqueo venantium), Remigius of Auxerre tells us that the "hunters are to be understood as the devil and his angels, who always, as though hunting, follow man, and try to trap him, catching him through his love for and desire Of temporal things."37 He ex- plains that the noon-day demons are the fervid afflic- tions which cause men to fall (col. 627). The idea that the devil was a hunter was fairly common in the Middle Ages. St. Augustine, perhaps echoing the pass- age from Psalms, speaks Of heretical ideas as the very "snares Of the devil" (laquei diaboli, gppg. III, vi). It would not be difficult for a medieval reader famil- iar with these conventions-~and the Psalms and their 3 7Ennarationes in Psalmos, pp 131, 626. 368 commentaries were among the more pOpular Bible studies --tO assume that the reason the fairy king appears at noon—time was that he was somehow related to the noon- day demon who in the heat Of the day'brings about man's fall through an appeal to his desires. Moreover, the fact that the fairy king and his men pppp at noon—day would have reinforced the identification. But Heurodis was innocent Of wrong doing and ‘was not, SO far as we learn, tempted, but rather taken Off, quite inexPlicably, at the will of the fairy king. Two possible explanations can be Offered for her pppy 33p, I Shall present one now and one a little further on. If we substitute Eurydice for Heurodis, we see that the references tO undern-tide and the possible identification of the fairy king with the noon-day 38 demon who hunts men, become more clear. Mortimer J. Donovan in an interesting article, "Herodis in the Auchinleck Sir Orfeo" Medium Aevum XXVII (1958) argues that Heurodis is to be associated with the evil Herodias who helped to bring about St. JOhn the Baptist's death. He points out that in the Winchester Chronicle there is a reference to Edwy the unpOpular son Of Edmund who is described as a.man with a "most ardent love of women and a man who followed Orpheus." Mr. Dono- van refers to Edwy's queen as being thought a possible Herodias and Connects this with Orpheus' locking baCk in 369 In Ovid, Eurydice, walking out shortly after marriage, with a group Of naiads, was bitten by a snake and died. Virgil says, omitting the marriage, that She was fleeing Aristeus when she was bitten by a snake She stepped on. The author Of Sir Orfeo Changes the naiads to attendant maidens and has Heurodis go out to play in an orChard, a place which a Christian would be likely to associate with a snake. But no snake bites her; instead She is visited by the king of the fairies. If we assume that the fairy king becomes in the author's mind the devil who walks abroad at noon— day the Story becomes clearer. First, as we recall from the preceding chapter, Eurydice was Often seen in Ovid and Boethius commentaries as the human soul who, wandering through fields Of temporalia, was bitten by the serpent and killed. Sometimes Eurydice was in the Consolgtion, where this action is castigated. But while the author Of the Chronicle and the author Of Sir Orfeo may have had this in mind. they were probably thinking Of commentaries which would have established Eurydice as the carnal Side Of man's na- ture. Though the suggestion is interesting, there is not really tOO much in Sir Orfeo Which would link Heurodis with the “wild ride" Of banishment Of Edwy's evil queen and a good deal which links her with the carnal concupiscence represented by Eurydice in the Boethius commentaries. 370 interpreted as the Church for whose sake Christ de- scended to hell. While I do not mean to say that the author Of the romance had one of these commentaries in mind as he constructed his entire narrative, suCh interpretations were familiar enough tO anyone knowing the Orpheus story at all that the author may well have had them in mind when he portrayed the king of fairy as a romance version Of the devileserpent who bit the errant Eurydice. Iconographical evidence supports such a view. A number Of manuscript illustrations which tell the story Of Orpheus and Eurydice Show her being bitten by a snake which is quite clearly a devil. An Qyigg Moralise miniature, B. N. Fr. 1493, (Fig. 16) shows Eurydice walking in a field, with a winged serpent or dragon--a pOpular representation Of the devil, as well as an evil being in its own right-—biting her heel. In an illustration for a Virgilian account Of the story, B. N. Fr. 871 (Fig. 17), we see Eurydice either falling from the bite of a similar diabolic serpent or lying on the grass--the artist's handling Of perspective making her intended position unclear-- 371 while Aristeus, holding a shepherd's crOOk, locks on. The winged serpents Of these pictures, though lOOking more like dogs, may be the medieval equivalent of the draconopede, a man—headed or sometimes animal-headed serpent. Vincent Of Beauvais has noted that Satan in Eden was a kind of draconopede and that he tempted Eve in this guise.39‘ In an Ovide Moralisé of about 1406, Lyon, 742 (Fig. 18), Eurydice is Shown being bitten by a diabolical serpent as she lies, this time unmis- takably at rest beneath a tree. A shepherdess' crOOk lies beside her and Aristeus, dressed as a herder, looks on. No explanation has been Offered for the sleeping pose Of Eurydice, and there is no mention Of her Sleeping or resting in the text. One possible reason for the artist's depiction Of her thus might be that he felt a shepherdess would be likely to lie down during the heat Of the day. But a more pertinent explanation, tO my mind, would lie in the association of the serpent with the devil who was known to come upon unsuSpecting souls When they were least able to resist--as the fairy king was tO do with Eurydice. 39 Speculum Naturals (Venice, 1591) XX, 33. 372 The noon—day demOn can be seen not only as a hunter Of souls in his various guises as serpent and fairy king but also as a hunter Of women. Aside from the possible confusion with Eurydice there was no nar- rative reason for Heurodis to be abducted by the fairy king. But there was legendary and biblical precedent for suCh abductions or attaCks on innocent women by the devil. Certainly one might connect the fairy king ‘with the demon lover Of pOpular ballads—ewho was Often the devil in disguise--but in the ballad, the demon lover carries Off or kills an evil woman who deServes it. In the ballad "The Demon Lover" or in its various versions such as the "House Carpenter," the demon . lover appears to his former sweet heart and tries to persuade her tO go Off from Ireland with him tO a "merrie green land." The woman-dwho is soon revealed as grasping and unpleasant--is persuaded to abandon her husband and children for material gain because the demon lover has seven Ships, many crew members and music on board. But Shortly after they set sail the woman "espied his cloven foot" and realizes that the devil is carrying her Off. The devil then sinks 373 the ship and drowns the woman.40 But Heurodis is innocent Of any wrong doing SO that the demon lover Of ballads has no hold over her. The devil in the guise of the fairy king, however, could abduct Heu- rodis for reasons Of lust. In Genesis 6:2 we learn "that the sons Of God saw the daughters Of men that they were fair; and they tOOk them wives Of all which they chose.” The "sons Of God“ are the angels, who in the apocryphal BOOk Of Enoch band together out Of Of lust, take as wives the daughters Of men and teach them magic and forbidden knowledge. The women give birth to giants who turned against mankind and for their crimes the angels were driven from heaven and became devils.41 In Hebrew demonology the spawn Of the fallen angels were not only giants but all super- natural evil creatures including the pagan gods. This story seems tO have been taken Over into pOpular legend 40See English and Scottish Ballads, ed. Francis J. Child (Boston, 1878) I, 201ff. 41See the Book Of Enoch, tr. G. H. Schodde (Andover, Mass., 1882). That the BOOk Of EnOCh was known to the Latin west is made clear by a reference to it and to the story Of the lustful angels by Hilar- ius, Comm. in PS. CXXXII, §§_9, 748-749. 374 in the Middle Ages and supplies the idea that fairies 'were diabolical creatures who hunted women-—particu- larly those who walked near trees and.bushes--for reasons Of lust. Chaucer alludes to such a story in the Wife Of Bath's Tale, where we learn that in the days Of King Arthur-—which.was the general time pp; Orfeo is set in--England was full Of fairies. But when Christianity came and brought with it the friars, the fairies were driven out. Chaucer hints at a tra- dition Of supernatural attacks on women when he says that "Wommen may go now saufly up and doun./ In every bussh or under every tree/ Ther is noon oother incubus but he" (11.878-880) meaning that friars have now re- placed the fairies as hunters Of women. While the connection Of the fairy-king with the devil is, as I have tried to Show, made fairly pointed by the author Of Sir Orfeo, this is not to imply that the whole tale is, at base, a Christian allegory. On the contrary, Sir Orfeo contains a var- iety Of elements from many diSparate sources, which are blended into an imaginative work Of entertainment, rather than a tightly woven symbolic scheme. There 375 are, as can readily be seen, several biblical echoes in the poem--for example the Similarities between St. John the Baptist's and Orfeo's trips to the wil- derness—-but such Christian overtones do not create any meaningful pattern; they serve rather to embellish the story. This holds particularly true Of the other- 'world description in the poem which might appear at first glance tO contain pointed allusions to both Virgil's underworld and to the Christian regions Of heaven and hell, but on closer investigation proves tO be based on conventional otherworld description, and to laCk a cOherent symbolic structure in either pagan or Christian eschatology. We would, Of course, eXpect that medieval representations Of any Of these regions would fur— nish them with a certain number Of medieval trappings, as would an illustration Of any place which was dis- tant in time or unknown to the illustrator. In the same way, our contemporary sCience fiction writers have peopled the planets Of distant stars with an- thropomorphic creatures who live, eat, and make wars in a manner only Slightly different from that with 376 which we are familiar, and in this reSpect medieval versions of Paradise, the Virgilian locus amoenus and the Celtic otherworld are predictably similar. But beyond a simple medievalization Of detail, it Should be noted that in Sir Orfeo the land Of the fairy is neither an afterworld nor an underworld. It is actually a bydworld. The description of Or- feo's entryinto it is unequivocal on this point: In at a roChe pe leuedis rideb, & he after, & nou3t abidep. When he was in be roChe y-go Wele pre mile, Oper mO, He com in-tO a fair cuntray, As bri3t SO sonne on somers day, Smope & plain & a1 grene -—Hille no dale nas per non y-sene. (11.347-354) ‘ Orfeo follows the ladies through a tunnel or cliff passageway. He does not go down into the bowels Of the earth as Orpheus had in search of Eur- ydice, but rather to another land, joined to this one by a mysterious passageway. The idea that the world Of the fairies was another but somehow parallel land is reinforced by the fact that Heurodis sleeps under an "ympe-tre" in that fairy world just as she 377 'has in the world of Winchester.42 The otherworld in Sir Orfeo, with its secret entrance, green plain, jeweled and radiant castle and unfortunate captives, is based on a variety of conventions from medieval art and literature. In its existence as a counter- world to that Of men, and in its entrance, it seems most closely related to the otherworld Of Celtic legend, which was also located on the earth rather than deep inside Of it, and was entered by a number of ways, including through a.mist, over water, or-- closest to the Orfeo story-—through a fairy barrow or mound.43 The Virgilian underworld, on the other 42The illustration for the Letter Of Othea (Fig. 12) bears a closer resemblance to these fea- tures of the Sir Orfeo story than it does to the text it nominally portrays. In it we see Orpheus entering through a hole in a rock a mysterious land filled with curious animals, while Eurydice lies in a trance before a castle. But the illustration is for a version Of the story which comes mostly from Ovid and Virgil. See Christine de Pisan, the Epistle Of Othea to Hector or the Boke of Knyghthode, tr. Stephen ScrOpe and ed. George F. Warner (London, 1904) LXX, p. 78. 43See Howard Rollin Patch, The Other World (Cambridge, Mass., 1950), p. 27ff. and Theodore Spencer, "Chaucer's Hell: A Study in Medieval Con- vention,” Speculum II (1927) for discussion and bib— liography. 378 hand, was entered by a descensus through a cave, as we recall in the case of Aeneas and his Sibyl guide, and in this reSpect does not correSpond to the place described in Sir Orfeo. What Virgil does seem to have contributed to this place is the conjunction side by side Of happy and unhappy elements, and the presence Of Or- pheus in a beautiful, supernatural landscape. In Aeneid VI, 637, after having Observed the unhappier shades, Aeneas crosses a ”mid—Space" and enters the gates Of ”a land Of joy, the green pleasaunces and happy seats Of the Blissful Groves. Here an ampler ether clothes the meadS with roseate light, and they know their own sun . . ." Here Aeneas finds a sacred personage. The Shades dance and Sing and "the long- rObed Thracian priest matches their measures with the seven clear notes, striking them now With his fingers, nOW'With his ivory quill." The Thracian priest is Orpheus who plays his lyre to the peOple of these Blessed Groves. The two-part underworld Of Virgil was pOpu- larized and Christianized in the Middle Ages by such 379 legends as that Of Barlaam and Ioasaph, the Vision of Tundale and the Qpppp of Falconia PrOba. The 8th century account Of the vision Of Ioasaph by St. John Damascene, tells how after a long prayer Ioasaph falls asleep, and sees himself carried Off by 'certain dread men' through places he 'has never seen before. At last he stands in a great plain filled.with flowers and fruits; the trees stir a breeze . . . golden thrones are here all set with pre- cious stones . . . nearby are running waters, clear and delightful.) He sees a radiant city surrounded by walls Of gold, her streets filled with light . . . taken back across the plain again, he is carried tO regions of darkness filled with every kind Of woe. Here is a glowing fur- nace Of fire, and the work Of torment. This, he learns, is the place for sinners. tr. G. R. Woodward and H. Mattingly, p. 468ff. ' The two part nature Of the landscape as described here seems clearly to represent the conjunction Of the Virgilian or classical locus amoenus with the Christian hell Of torment. This story was popular in many languages and may well have been known to the author Of Si; Orfeo. Another, equally popular vision Of the other- world was the Vigpn Of Tundale, current in the Middle Ages from the 12th century on. Tundale seemingly 380 dies and his soul leaves his body for three days, going first tO a dark and frightening valley where it sees souls suffering various Dantescan torments; it then, with the help of an angel, leaves this valley by crossing a bridge and comes to a lpgpp amoenus where there were many souls and it was per- petual day. In this place were also a great tree and a wall made Of precious stones. The illustration from the Flemish Christine de Pisan manuscript mentioned earlier (Fig. 14) sep- arates hell itself from the locus amoenus by the use Of the whale or fish-mouth common in medieval art and drama.45 But this illustration shows a rocky and rather rugged country unlike the perfectly flat land described in Sir Orfeo. The green plain Of the fairy land is re- ferred to in the poem as a ”Paradise," and though we should not put tOO much stock in a word used 44See Helinandus, §L_212, 1038ff. 45See M. D. Anderson, Drama and Imagery in English Medieval Churches (Cambridge, 1963), p. 88. See her figs. 6c and 8. 381 twice as a rimeeword, it does seem as if the super- natural world Of the fairies is related to certain Christian descriptions of Paradise such as that written by Falconia PrOba in the curious mixture Of Virgilian and Christian imagery called the ge_nLo_.46 This poem along with the vision Of the heavenly Jer- usalem in Revelation may well have supplied the author Of the Pearl with his picture Of Paradise and contributed some details to Sir Orfeo. It may well be, though, that such super- natural landscapes were part Of the convention of romance, for there are similar descriptions in prpg, a lai Of Marie de France, where a lady in search Of her knight goes through a hole in a hill and comes out on a beautiful plain wherein is a Silverewalled city.47 Perhaps the most striking aspect Of the fairy landscape lies in what it is not—~in how little re- semblance it bears tO the conventional underworlds 46CentO PrObae, CSEL, 11. 157-172. 7Marie de France, Lais, ed. A. Ewert (Ox— ford, 1960). 382 in Which we have been accustomed to find Orpheus, with the enchanted Cerberus, stalled Wheel and nour- ishing water. Thereis only a slight suggestion Of any punitive or purgatorial region in Sir Orfeo. 'Within the castle wall, Orfeo does find . . . folfl pat were pider y-brou3t, & pou3t dede, & nare nou3t. Sum stOde wip-outen hade, & sum non armes nade, & wonder fele be; lay bisides: Ri3t as pai Slepe her vnder-tides Eche was bus in his warld y-nome, Wip fairi bider y-come. (11.389-404) Constance Davies has suggested Virgil's underworld as a possible source for these people, but the para- llels dO not hold true in all respects. Aeneas sees a number of people who have died unhappily or in an untimely manner on his way tO the Blessed Groves, an elm tree of false dreams which may explain the ”ympe-tre” and a number Of fierce personifications such as Age, Fear and Famine. But only in DeiphObus does he see a shade who is mutilated in the same way that the people are in Sir Orfeo. The other Shades appear as simulacra Of the people they represent, complete and intact. After all, it is difficult to carry on a conversation with a man whose head is missing. 383 A fairly acceptable eXplanation for the mys- teriously torn men and women is provided in Sir Orfeo, though, in the form of the fairy king's threats to Heurodis. It is possible that what the fairy king threatens has actually tranSpired in the case Of the people Orfeo finds within the castle walls. The king had told Heurodis when he returned her to the orchard wherein he found her. that She Should be under the same tree the next day and that She should be taken by the fairies to live with them "euer-mo." If she hindered this plan in any way . . . to-tore pine limes al, bat noping help he no shal; & bei pou best so to—torn, 3ete pou worst wip ous y-born. (11.171—4) It is curious that once the king Of fairy has Heurodis-ewhether She be interpreted as the car- nal Side Of man sunk in temporalia, or as the woman carried Off by lustful devils, or as the queen ab- ducted by supernatural beings for unexplained reasons --he does not seem to do much with her., When Orfeo comes into the castle he sees the king with his own fairy queen "fair & swete" and there is no Sign Of 384 domestic discord to suggest that Heurodis is being kept as a possible replacement for the present queen. Instead, Heurodis seems in suspended animation--a part Of the fairy world but not really in it--as She lies under her tree. Perhaps the Orfeo poet in his attempt to blend the Orpheus and Eurydice Of Latin legend and Of the Boethius commentaries with the noon—day demon and the lustful fairies, was not able to make these characters sit comfortably enough tO- gether to work out all Of the motivation for his narrative. But certainly he has shown what could be done by a skillful artist with the classical story and its moral commentaries--not merely elaborated as with other medieval poets-—but completely rethought by the medieval mind to produce a vernacular work Of entertainment. RObert Henryson's "Orpheus and Eurydice" In RObert Henryson's poem Of Orpheus and Eurydice are brought together the two strands of 385 medieval thought which had developed out of this legend--the romance tradition Of secular litera- ture, which we saw in Sir Orfeo, and the ethical tradition associated with the commentators and mythographers. These elements are blended in an imaginative work which diSplays a high level of literary craftmanship and orginality. Robert Henryson, perhaps best known for his sequel to Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde called the Testament of Crespeid, was a Scottish author who was in daily life, a schoolmaster Of Dunfermline. He ‘was, though considerably influenced by Chaucer's poetry, Of a much more stern and moralistic bent. This attitude towards life was revealed both in the elaborate moralitates he wrote for his trans- lations Of the Fables Of AeSOp and in the moralitas for his tale Of Orpheus and Eurydice. Robert Henry- son was born about 1450 and died about 1500. Since he was the last essentially medieval author known to me to mention Orpheus at any length, I feel it is fitting that this study should close with a 386 consideration of his poem "Orpheus and Eurydice."48 The poem iS presented as a moral tale, with Orpheus' travels seen as a journey Of education. Henryson begins with a trope in praise Of the Greeks for their emulation Of their fathers. After giving a genealogy Of the Greek Orpheus, Henryson describes the birth Of "king schir orpheouss" (1.45) and his prOper upbringing which instills in him all Of the virtues desirable for a medieval king. Hearing of his "nOble fame” (1.73). the queen Of Thrace sends for Orpheus and marries him amid great Splendor. Their wedded bliss, however, is Short-lived, for Eurydice fleeing Aristeus as in the Virgilian version of the story, is bitten by a snake and languishes in a "deidly swoun” (1.109) until Proserpine, the queen Of the fairies, takes her Off. Orpheus goes to the woods for a period Of mourning, and then up tO the heavens in search of his wife. Though he does not find her there, he does learn celestial harmony and 48All quotations from Henryson's poem will be drawn from the most recent edition, The Poem§_and Fables Of Rgpert Henryson. ed. H. Harvey Wood (London and Edin- burgh, 1958). 387 have an opportunity to pay homage to Venus in her sphere. Then he goes to the underworld, by passing over a bridge, and plays before ”king rodomantus" (1.308) and Proserpine and a company Of historical. personages including Hector, Julius Caesar, Croesus, Saul and Jezabel. Orpheus wins his Eurydice but then, unlike the romance hero, loses her by locking back. He realizes and ponders on the dangers Of earthly love, and the poem ends with a mgralitgfi of some two- hundred lines which is a direct translation Of Trivet's commentary on the Orpheus meter in Boethius. Orpheus, in keeping with his nOble lineage, exhibits the qualities Of knighthood very earlyE "NO wondir wes thocht he wes fair and wyse,/ gentill and gud, full Of liberalitie,/ his fader [being a] god“ (11.65-7); he grows up lOOking as a medieval knight should and, in the courtly manner, earns the love Of his lady from afar. Incressand sone to manheid up he drew, Off statur large, and frely fair Of face; /H/is noble fame SO far it sprang and grew, Till at the last t/h/e michty quene Of trace, excelland fair, haboundand in richess, a message send unto that prince so ying, Requyrand'him to wed hir and be king.(ll.7l—77) 388 Another stanza is devoted to their marriage and newly wedded bliss. Medieval illustrators were not slow to paint the wedding Of Orpheus from a medieval point Of View, just as Henryson was not slow to elaborate on it. Two Ovide Moralise manuscripts of the 15th century Show curious marriage feasts, one, Lyon 742 (Fig. 19) shows Eurydice surrounded by revelers--Hy- men, the god of marriage mentioned by Ovid—Ahas be- come an angel who blesses the gathering from above. The other, B. N. Fr. 871 (Fig. 20), seems related tO the Lyon MS in that Eurydice has the same symmet- rical positioning of hands and the same ornament at her breast; curiously Orpheus seems one of her attend— ants as though he were a socially less important per- son, somewhat as he is in the Henryson poem. Although Orpheus' marriage through reputation is purely a product Of romance literary convention, Henryson combines it curiously with a Christian em— phasis on domesticity which we noted in Sir Orfeo, celebrating a love within rather than, as was common in courtly love literature, outside marriage. SO too, Henryson, like many Of the ethical authors before him, 389 adds a gloss to this part Of the story. He describes the newly weds' domestic bliss, and then observes sadly: "allace, quat sall I say?/ Lyk till a flour that plesandly will spring, quhilk fadis sone, and endis with myrnyng,“ echoing Job 14:2 where man ”com- eth forth like a flower and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow and continueth not." Henryson shows his indebtedness to Sir Orfeo, to the Boethius commentaries and to Chaucer by quite consciously referring to a number Of details about Orpheus and Eurydice, Pluto and Proserpine, found only in these works. For example, when the ill-fated Eurydice goes out walking, she is described as "eru— dices the quene,/ quhilk walkit furth in tO a.may mornyng,/ Bot with a.madyn, untill a.medo grene" (11.92-4). Though May. as was pointed out earlier, is a common time for the Opening of vision poems, Henryson's piece is not a vision poem and the only other reference to a "queen" Eurydice who walks out in May that I know Of is in Sir Orfeo. The "grene medow,“ on the other hand, reminds us Of that meadow representing the whole earth—-sometimes green and 390 sometimes dry-~Which‘we saw in the commentaries and mythographic handbOOks. But Eurydice's being borne Off by Proserpine would seem to derive from Chaucer's MerChant's Tale. The maiden tells Orpheus that Eury- dice is with the "phary tane befoir my Ene” (1.119) and that when she fell into a swoon from the snake- bite, ”the quene of fary/Clawcht hir upsone (11.125-6) and took her Off. There are no other references to Proserpine as queen of the fairies except by Chaucer. The king and queen Of fairy in Sir Orfeo are unnamed. Orpheus is very unhappy after his loss and takes his harp to the woods where he Sings a plaint which reminds uS a bit Of the plaint Of the Black Knight in Chaucer's Book of_the DpChepp. Orpheus' complaint is quite elaborate, has a refrain and in- cludes much narrative material from the earlier story Of Orfeo in the woods. For example, Henryson elabor- ates On the de casibus theme which the author OfI§i£ .Qripg hinted at when he compared Orfeo's diet Of roots and rude existence in the wood with his earlier mode of life as king. HenrySon's Orpheus sings, 391 Fair weill my place, fair weill plesandis and play, and wylcum.woddis wyld and wilsum way, my wicket ward in wildirness tO ware; my rOb ryell, and all my riche array, Changit salbe in rude russet and grey, my dyademe in till a hate Of hair; my bed salbe with bever, brOk, and.bair.‘ (11.154-60) His period Of mourning, however, seems not tO have equalled that Of Orfeo, who lived in the woods ten years or more. HenrySon's Orpheus spends an unsPeci- fied time in his ascent to the Spheres and then Spends twenty days on the road going to the underworld. Af- ter an address tO Apollo and Jupiter in which he aSks them to help him find his wife, "he tuk his harp and on his breist can hing,/ Syne passit to the hevin, as sayis the fable" (11.185-6). He goes first tO the milky way tO seek his wife and then descends through each Sphere, asking in turn Of Eurydice. Unless there was some story Of Orpheus' ascent to the upper world --as it is only hinted at in Trivet's commentary—- other than the standard accounts Of Orpheus' trans- lation to the stars in Hyginus and other astronomical 'writers, Henryson seems tO have made up this incident from his own "fable." Henryson's story of Orpheus' 392 ascent most directly reminds us of Troilus and his journey to the stars during whiCh he was able to lock back on the little earth Of men. Celestial voyages in visions or otherwise, were common in an- tique literature. They occur in gnostic lore, as we have discussed earlier, as well as in some Of the Old Testament apocalypses and in the Somnium.Scipionis. The King's Quair, however, has an ascent of the hero up through the spheres with an extended stOp at the house of Venus, and it most probably supplied the im- petus for Orpheus' journey. Orpheus reveals his ro- mance connections and courtly sensibilities by stOp- ping at his own prOper ”house," the sphere of Venus as he travels downward. Quen he hir saw, he knelit and said thuss; “wait ye nocht weill I am your awin trew knycht? In luve none leler than schir orpheuss' (11.206-7) It is fitting that a hero who could Sing Of "Love's Divine Son" in a madrigal should be venus' knight. Moreover, she more than other planetary deities would be helpful to a lover in quest Of his beloved. 393 Though he did not discover his wife's where- abouts in this celestial voyage he did learn the har- mony Of the spheres, which Henryson takes time to outline for the audience.49 Henryson may wish to imply by this that what Orpheus has lost in the way Of a wife, he has gained in the form Of cosmic know- ledge. Orpheus returning from the heavens, searches for his wife in hell, taming the various dOOrkeepers with his Sweet song. Connecting this trip with the voyage tO the Celtic otherworld is the fact that Or- pheus passes over a river on a bridge--often a means of getting to the otherworld. After various adven- tures which follow the twelfth meter Of Book Three Of Boethius' Cppsolation quite closely, Orpheus comes to hell's house wherein are the king and queen, "rodo- mantus" and Proserpine. Around them is a curious com- pany Of historical persons. This villainous company includes Hector, Priam, Alexander, Antiochus, Julius 49JOhn Hollander, The Untuning of the Sky (Princeton, 1961) touches on the use Of musical in- formation in Henryson's poem as a prelude to the idea Of divine music in the Renaissance, p. 85ff. 394 Caesar, Herod, Pilate, Croesus, Pharoah, Saul and Jezabel, all of whom are suffering appropriate tor- ments reminiscent of Dante's Inferno, for hell's house also contains popes and cardinals guilty of simony and other ecclesiastical crimes. Orpheus exchanges a few words with Pluto, who has been earlier in the poem referred to as ”rodomantus." and persuades him by his song to re- turn Eurydice. But there is nO happy ending, for Orpheus lOOks back and loses his wife. The man who once called himself Venus' own knight now has come tO see the danger Of earthly affections and utters this apostrophe to love: 'Quat art thow, luve, how sall I the defyne? Bittir and suit, crewall and merciable. plesand to sum, to uthir wariable; hard is thy law. thy bandis unbreakable; Quho sservis the, thocht thay be nevir so trew, Perchance sum tyme thay sall haif causs to rew' (11.401-7) ‘ The Story ends here, with its hero a wiser man, by eXperience, than previous Orpheuses had been by her- edity. But Henryson does not conclude the poem until he has provided a moral in the form Of Trivet's com- mentary on the Boethian Orpheus. He eXplains that 395 Orpheus does Spiritually-—get his wife back when he has learned tO eschew the fleshly appetites and turn his eyes tO heaven, as indeed the reader should do: ”Than orpheus hes wone euridices,/ Quhen our desyre with ressoun makis pess,/ And seikis up to contem- platioun" (11.616—18). In Henryson's poem another Orpheus has been brought into existence from the medieval versions Of the legend, distant, to be sure, from his classi— cal original, but unmistakably the product Of a long and noble line traceable all the way back to the Orpheus mentioned by Sappho some fourteen-hundred years earlier. Fig. 4. David and Melodia. Fnalter or the 11th century. P. H. 3r. “alslln 139. Fig. 1;. .rgm-un, f'rm a neatly ’ "mayor? 'inrlantnn. Mount At . kantoiolmnn 6, 165:. 11th :OnLu (W F}; 100 Of hguc, from I hall, 0 antery 31.0”. B. I. 0’. 0010111: 259, 1227. 11th century ”1g. 11. Crpwaua and Eurydice. John Lydgate, 39!} ”( Erfigcaa. B.M. Warlcy 1’7', ‘ .. c 4 Fig. 35. Orphou- and Eurydice. x '1. yo 'hrlay "hf", l26v. | ”.- Fig. ;«. xrphoun an! urydtto. Era-calla Jib. Rnyn‘n f'fi‘, 5v. ' ‘ ;F\V““’ “ "'{“.'!“- ‘ 'x'F'” ' ‘ . (nifty " h, uh. unmdrlqo . _o ’ ‘ ‘VV < ._‘ - . ,.- ..., ’ ' D -"“'“' .bu-I' ( “Th1h '1!"“‘V."M .L'! "1 " , J1! {O'k‘ M ~-'“~“( ‘ u ' “av-Nd I.” "V ._ ) auL'.’ “'w ' ‘ I ' I ‘ (I'VYI‘l Ia‘rfn..il.-t!} n‘tinu MN"? "m; ‘HLH . ., . 'I r 5' 'u «a .‘-«lfu(-|1"LJI J—u'umm ..m «k». ....u r' T uh .' ,- RV‘. «waft 1:5 as m m;- In; run (4.; yup a: t v .~.. ‘ ‘ .-. wu-w yum-R. ‘It‘l-CN “if! adu- fin-‘s‘ 1 F-b- inju- fmanyh‘fiouuudjoxgwnn-m‘ -“-'-'U'f-~ ' ' ' \ nvinl ' («whit-(frank?! Av uni-x .bul M , K112: ..-‘ .1 ‘, -\:."V‘~‘ " ' . / ~_“ ' . I ) ', f ..x 459. ‘ - ' 'I ’ (') \“‘ ' ‘ ( ‘ ‘ . . “ 4 ‘ 4 -~ I ' P‘\v~ ‘ \ “1"; 1 V ‘ is. K). hrphauu, “utydkco cud the animals. Albrlouo, 92‘93- orum in. inibus nggllus. Rag. w: 1555. E, 5r. Hg. 16. Orphan and Bury“... $3: lug“... OJ. Pt. “95, r. F 1. ‘. Euryi co. 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