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While Orpheus was playing his songs in the underworld, in the farthest corners of the place of punishment, the hissing flames stood still.
His songs are beautiful!
Grim and unmoving sat the dark king of the dead on his ebony throne, yet the tears shone on his rigid cheeks in the light of his ghastly torches.
Go quickly while my monsters are stilled by your song. Climb up the steep road to daylight, and never once turn back. The spirit of Eurydice shall follow, but if you look around at her, she will return to me.
It was dark and misty, full of strange shapes and noises, yet in many places merely black and silent as the tomb.
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