Scene III
A DRYAD. Sad news of lamentation and of pain,Dear sisters, hath my voice to bear to you:I scarcely dare to raise the dolorous strain.Eurydice by yonder stream lies low;The flowers are fading round her stricken head,And the complaining waters weep their woe.The stranger soul from that fair house hath fled;And she, like privet pale, or white May-bloomUntimely plucked, lies on the meadow, dead.Hear then the cause of her disastrous doom!A snake stole forth and stung her suddenly.I am so burdened with this weight of gloomThat, lo, I bid you all come weep with me!
CHORUS OF DRYADS. Let the wide air with our complaint resound!For all heaven's light is spent.Let rivers break their bound,Swollen with tears outpoured from our lament!
Fell death hath ta'en their splendour from the skies:The stars are sunk in gloom.Stern death hath plucked the bloomOf nymphs:—Eurydice down-trodden lies.Weep, Love! The woodland cries.Weep, groves and founts;Ye craggy mounts; you leafy dell,Beneath whose boughs she fell,Bend every branch in time with this sad sound.
Let the wide air with our complaint resound!
Ah, fortune pitiless! Ah, cruel snake!Ah, luckless doom of woes!Like a cropped summer rose,Or lily cut, she withers on the brake.Her face, which once did makeOur age so brightWith beauty's light, is faint and pale;And the clear lamp doth fail,Which shed pure splendour all the world around
Let the wide air with our complaint resound!
Who e'er will sing so sweetly, now she's gone?Her gentle voice to hear,The wild winds dared not stir;And now they breathe but sorrow, moan for moan:So many joys are flown,Such jocund daysDoth Death erase with her sweet eyes!Bid earth's lament arise,And make our dirge through heaven and sea rebound!
Let the wide air with our complaint resound!
A DRYAD. 'Tis surely Orpheus, who hath reached the hill,With harp in hand, glad-eyed and light of heart!He thinks that his dear love is living still.My news will stab him with a sudden smart:An unforeseen and unexpected blowWounds worst and stings the bosom's tenderest part.Death hath disjoined the truest love, I know,That nature yet to this low world revealed,And quenched the flame in its most charming glow.Go, sisters, hasten ye to yonder field,Where on the sward lies slain Eurydice;Strew her with flowers and grasses! I must yieldThis man the measure of his misery.
ORPHEUS. Musa, triumphales titulos et gesta canamusHerculis, et forti monstra subacta manu;Ut timidae matri pressos ostenderit angues,Intrepidusque fero riserit ore puer.
A DRYAD. Orpheus, I bring thee bitter news. Alas!Thy nymph who was so beautiful, is slain!Flying from Aristaeus o'er the grass,What time she reached yon stream that threads the plain,
A snake which lurked mid flowers where she did pass,Pierced her fair foot with his envenomed bane:So fierce, so potent was the sting, that sheDied in mid course. Ah, woe that this should be!
MNESILLUS, the satyr. Mark ye how sunk in woeThe poor wretch forth doth pass,And may not answer, for his grief, one word?On some lone shore, unheard,Far, far away, he'll go,And pour his heart forth to the winds, alas!I'll follow and observe if heMoves with his moan the hills to sympathy.
ORPHEUS. Let us lament, O lyre disconsolate!Our wonted music is in tune no more.Lament we while the heavens revolve, and letThe nightingale be conquered on Love's shore!O heaven, O earth, O sea, O cruel fate!How shall I bear a pang so passing sore?Eurydice, my love! O life of mine!On earth I will no more without thee pine!I will go down unto the doors of Hell,And see if mercy may be found below:Perchance we shall reverse fate's spoken spellWith tearful songs and words of honeyed woe:Perchance will Death be pitiful; for wellWith singing have we turned the streams that flow;Moved stones, together hind and tiger drawn,And made trees dance upon the forest lawn.
MNESILLUS. The staff of Fate is strongAnd will not lightly bend,Nor yet the stubborn gates of steely Hell.Nay, I can see full wellHis life will not be long:Those downward feet no more will earthward wend.What marvel if they lose the light,Who make blind Love their guide by day and night!
Words in this poem 29
- dryad n.
- A wood nymph; a nymph whose life was bound up with that of her tree. [L. dryas, pl. dryades, Gr. Tree.]
- dolorous a.
- Full of grief; sad; sorrowful; doleful; dismal; as, a dolorous object; dolorous discourses. [L. dolorosus, from dolor: cf. F. douloureux. See Dolor.]
- yonder adv.
- At a distance, but within view. [OE. yonder, ýonder; cf. OD. ginder, Goth. jaindr there. Yond, adv.]
- fading n.
- An Irish dance; also, the burden of a song.
- stricken p. p.
- Struck; smitten; wounded; as, the stricken deer.
- disastrous a.
- Full of unpropitious stellar influences; unpropitious; ill-boding. [Cf. F. désastreux. See Disaster.]
- stole n.
- A long, loose garment reaching to the feet. [AS. stole, L. stola, Gr. stall. See Stall.]
- splendour n.
- Great brightness; brilliant luster; brilliancy; as, the splendor ot the sun. B. Jonson. [L. fr. splendere to shine: cf. F. splendeur.]
- dell n.
- A small, retired valley; a ravine. [AS. del, akin to E. dale; cf. D. delle, del, low ground. See Dale.]
- luckless a.
- Being without luck; unpropitious; unfortunate; unlucky; meeting with ill success or bad fortune; as, a luckless gamester; a luckless maid.
- withers n.
- The ridge between the shoulder bones of a horse, at the base of the neck. See Illust. of Horse. [Properly, the parts which resist the pull or strain in drawing a load; fr. OE. wither resistance, AS. withre, fr. wither against; akin to G. widerrist withers. ]
- flown a.
- Flushed, inflated.
- jocund
- Merry; cheerful; gay; airy; lively; sportive. [L. jocundus, jucundus, orig., helpful, fr. juvare to help. See Aid.]
- dirge n.
- A piece of music of a mournful character, to accompany funeral rites; a funeral hymn. [Contraction of Lat. dirige, direct thou (imperative of dirigere), the first word of a funeral hymn (Lat. transl. of Psalm v. 8) beginning, "Dirige, Domine, in c]
- orpheus n.
- The famous mythic Thracian poet, son of the Muse Calliope, and husband of Eurydice. He is reputed to have had power to entrance beasts and inanimate objects by the music of his lyre.
- manu n.
- One of a series of progenitors of human beings, and authors of human wisdom. [Skr.]
- puer n.
- The dung of dogs, used as an alkaline steep in tanning. [Etymol. uncertain.]
- bane v. t.
- To be the bane of; to ruin. Fuller.
- satyr n.
- A sylvan deity or demigod, represented as part man and part goat, and characterized by riotous merriment and lasciviousness. [L. satyrus, Gr. satyre.]
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- unheard a.
- Not heard; not perceived by the ear; as, words unheard by those present.
- disconsolate n.
- Disconsolateness. Barrow.
- wonted a.
- Accustomed; customary; usual.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- tearful a.
- Abounding with tears; weeping; shedding tears; as, tearful eyes.
- honeyed a.
- Covered with honey.
- steely a.
- Made of steel; consisting of steel.
- earthward adv.
- Toward the earth; -- opposed to heavenward or skyward.
- wend n.
- A large extent of ground; a perambulation; a circuit.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Scene III is in the public domain. This text is taken from The 'Orfeo' of Poliziano, tr. John Addington Symonds (first printed in Sketches and Studies in Italy, 1879; this text is Horatio F. Brown's 1898 combined reprint), Project Gutenberg ebook #18893, the John Addington Symonds translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Angelo Poliziano, Scene III, in Orfeo (1879), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #18893, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/poliziano-orfeo/scene-iii.html, id L26554.
Form and metre
Scene III is 104 lines in 15 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%).
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 A-ABCBCDCD-D- painA · you · strainA · lowB · headC · woeB · fledC · bloomD · deadC · doomD · suddenly · gloomD · me
- 2 ABAB resoundA · spentB · boundA · lamentB
- 3 ABBAA-CC- skiesA · gloomB · bloomB · liesA · criesA · founts · dellC · fellC · sound
- 5 ABBAA-CC- snakeA · woesB · roseB · brakeA · makeA · bright · paleC · failC · around
- 7 ---AA-BB- gone · hear · stir · moanA · flownA · days · eyesB · ariseB · rebound
- 9 ABABCBCDCD-D- hillA · heartB · stillA · smartB · blowC · partB · knowC · revealedD · glowC · fieldD · eurydice · yieldD · misery
- 11 ABAB alasA · slainB · grassA · plainB
- 12 --AA pass · bane · sheA · beA
- 13 ABCCABDD woeA · passB · wordC · unheardC · goA · alasB · heD · sympathyD
- 14 -A-A-ABBCDCDCDEE disconsolate · moreA · let · shoreA · fate · soreA · mineB · pineB · hellC · belowD · spellC · woeD · wellC · flowD · drawnE · lawnE
- 15 ABCCABDD strongA · bendB · hellC · wellC · longA · wendB · lightD · nightD
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| A DRYAD. Sad news of lamentation and of pain, | 13 | ·/˘·········· |
| Dear sisters, hath my voice to bear to you: | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| I scarcely dare to raise the dolorous strain. | 11 | ·/˘····/˘˘· |
| Eurydice by yonder stream lies low; | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| The flowers are fading round her stricken head, | 10 | ·/·/˘··/˘· |
| And the complaining waters weep their woe. | 10 | ··˘/˘/˘··· |
| The stranger soul from that fair house hath fled; | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| And she, like privet pale, or white May-bloom | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Untimely plucked, lies on the meadow, dead. | 10 | ˘/˘····/·· |
| Hear then the cause of her disastrous doom! | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| A snake stole forth and stung her suddenly. | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| I am so burdened with this weight of gloom | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| That, lo, I bid you all come weep with me! | 10 | ·········· |
| CHORUS OF DRYADS. Let the wide air with our complaint resound! | 14 | /˘·······/˘/·/ |
| For all heaven's light is spent. | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Let rivers break their bound, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Swollen with tears outpoured from our lament! | 10 | /˘···/·/˘/ |
| Fell death hath ta'en their splendour from the skies: | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| The stars are sunk in gloom. | 6 | ······ |
| Stern death hath plucked the bloom | 6 | ······ |
| Of nymphs:—Eurydice down-trodden lies. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Weep, Love! The woodland cries. | 6 | ···/·· |
| Weep, groves and founts; | 4 | ···· |
| Ye craggy mounts; you leafy dell, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Beneath whose boughs she fell, | 6 | ······ |
| Bend every branch in time with this sad sound. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Let the wide air with our complaint resound! | 10 | ·····/˘/·/ |
| Ah, fortune pitiless! Ah, cruel snake! | 10 | ·/˘/˘˘·/˘· |
| Ah, luckless doom of woes! | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Like a cropped summer rose, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Or lily cut, she withers on the brake. | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Her face, which once did make | 6 | ······ |
| Our age so bright | 5 | /˘··· |
| With beauty's light, is faint and pale; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And the clear lamp doth fail, | 6 | ······ |
| Which shed pure splendour all the world around | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Let the wide air with our complaint resound! | 10 | ·····/˘/·/ |
| Who e'er will sing so sweetly, now she's gone? | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Her gentle voice to hear, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| The wild winds dared not stir; | 6 | ······ |
| And now they breathe but sorrow, moan for moan: | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| So many joys are flown, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Such jocund days | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Doth Death erase with her sweet eyes! | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| Bid earth's lament arise, | 6 | ··˘/˘/ |
| And make our dirge through heaven and sea rebound! | 10 | ··/··/··˘/ |
| Let the wide air with our complaint resound! | 10 | ·····/˘/·/ |
| A DRYAD. 'Tis surely Orpheus, who hath reached the hill, | 13 | ·/˘·/˘/˘····· |
| With harp in hand, glad-eyed and light of heart! | 10 | ·········· |
| He thinks that his dear love is living still. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| My news will stab him with a sudden smart: | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| An unforeseen and unexpected blow | 10 | ··˘/··˘/˘· |
| Wounds worst and stings the bosom's tenderest part. | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| Death hath disjoined the truest love, I know, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| That nature yet to this low world revealed, | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| And quenched the flame in its most charming glow. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Go, sisters, hasten ye to yonder field, | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Where on the sward lies slain Eurydice; | 10 | ·········· |
| Strew her with flowers and grasses! I must yield | 10 | ···/·/˘··· |
| This man the measure of his misery. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘˘ |
| ORPHEUS. Musa, triumphales titulos et gesta canamus | 16 | /˘/˘˘/˘········· |
| Herculis, et forti monstra subacta manu; | 13 | ····/˘·····/· |
| Ut timidae matri pressos ostenderit angues, | 12 | ············ |
| Intrepidusque fero riserit ore puer. | 12 | ····/˘····/˘ |
| A DRYAD. Orpheus, I bring thee bitter news. Alas! | 13 | ·/˘/˘···/˘·˘/ |
| Thy nymph who was so beautiful, is slain! | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| Flying from Aristaeus o'er the grass, | 9 | /˘······· |
| What time she reached yon stream that threads the plain, | 10 | ·········· |
| A snake which lurked mid flowers where she did pass, | 10 | ·····/···· |
| Pierced her fair foot with his envenomed bane: | 10 | ·········· |
| So fierce, so potent was the sting, that she | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Died in mid course. Ah, woe that this should be! | 10 | ·········· |
| MNESILLUS, the satyr. Mark ye how sunk in woe | 12 | ····/˘······ |
| The poor wretch forth doth pass, | 6 | ······ |
| And may not answer, for his grief, one word? | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| On some lone shore, unheard, | 6 | ····˘/ |
| Far, far away, he'll go, | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| And pour his heart forth to the winds, alas! | 10 | ········˘/ |
| I'll follow and observe if he | 8 | ·/˘·˘/·· |
| Moves with his moan the hills to sympathy. | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| ORPHEUS. Let us lament, O lyre disconsolate! | 12 | /˘··˘/··˘/˘˘ |
| Our wonted music is in tune no more. | 10 | //˘/˘····· |
| Lament we while the heavens revolve, and let | 11 | ˘/···/˘˘/·· |
| The nightingale be conquered on Love's shore! | 10 | ·/˘˘·/˘··· |
| O heaven, O earth, O sea, O cruel fate! | 10 | ·/·····/˘· |
| How shall I bear a pang so passing sore? | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Eurydice, my love! O life of mine! | 10 | ·········· |
| On earth I will no more without thee pine! | 10 | ·········· |
| I will go down unto the doors of Hell, | 10 | ·········· |
| And see if mercy may be found below: | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Perchance we shall reverse fate's spoken spell | 10 | ˘/··˘/·/˘· |
| With tearful songs and words of honeyed woe: | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Perchance will Death be pitiful; for well | 10 | ˘/···/˘˘·· |
| With singing have we turned the streams that flow; | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Moved stones, together hind and tiger drawn, | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| And made trees dance upon the forest lawn. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| MNESILLUS. The staff of Fate is strong | 9 | ········· |
| And will not lightly bend, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Nor yet the stubborn gates of steely Hell. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Nay, I can see full well | 6 | ······ |
| His life will not be long: | 6 | ······ |
| Those downward feet no more will earthward wend. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| What marvel if they lose the light, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Who make blind Love their guide by day and night! | 10 | ·········· |
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