ndignation
demand in wild and threatening chorus, as the tones of Orpheus's lyre
are heard, "Who through this awful Place, thinking alive to pass,
rashly dares venture here?" Madly they call upon Cerberus "to kill thy
new Prey here." The barking of the triple-headed monster is heard in
the tones of the orchestra. They surround Orpheus as he approaches,
and with renewed clamor continue this thrilling chorus. In the midst
of its cruel intensity is heard the appealing voice of Orpheus ("In
Pity be moved by my Grief"). With overwhelming wrath comes the
reiterated monosyllable, "No," from the Furies,--one of the most
daring and powerful effects ever made in dramatic music,--followed by
another appalling chorus, as they announce to him, "These are the
Depths of Hell, where the Avengers dwell." At last they are touched by
the charm of his music and the sorrow of his story; and as their fury
dies away, the song of Orpheus grows more exultant as he contemplates
the reunion with Eurydice.

The gates of the lower world are opened, and in the third act Orpheus
enters Elysium. The scene begins with a tender, lovely song by
Eurydice and her companions ("In this tranquil and lovely Abode of the
Blest"), the melody taken by the flute with string accompaniment. All
is bright and cheerful and in striking contrast with the gloom and
terror of the Stygian scene we have just left. After a short
recitative ("How mild a Day, without a Noon"), Orpheus seeks her. She
is brought to him by a crowd of shadows; and breaking out in joyful
song he takes her by the hand and turns his face to the upper world.

The fourth act is almost entirely an impassioned duet between Orpheus
and Eurydice. He releases her hand for fear that he may turn and look
upon her. Eurydice chides him ("Am I changed or grown old that thou
wilt not behold me?"). In vain he urges her to follow him. She
upbraids him for his coldness, and demands one glance as a test of his
love. He still refuses, and then she sorrowfully bids him farewell. At
last, overcome with weariness and sorrow, he gazes upon her; and at
that instant she falls lifeless. Then Orpheus breaks out in that
immortal song, the _Che faro senza Eurydice_ ("I have lost my
Eurydice"), the beauty and pathos of which neither time nor change of
musical custom can ever mar. He is about to take his life with his
sword; but Amor suddenly appears upon the scene, stays his hand, and
tells him the gods are moved by his suffer