refused to lend its waters to cleanse their crime. It chose to
dive underground, where it still runs. The men of Thrace
were overwhelmed with sadness to see their prophet
murdered, and turned on their women to punish them.
They held back from bloodshed, however. Instead, they
tattooed their wives' arms and legs, that way they might look
upon the marks and not forget the foul deed all their days.
Calliope and the Muses rushed down in tears, gathered
up Orpheus' limbs, and laid them to rest. The river,
however, kept his head and lyre and floated them
downstream, still singing, until they reached the foaming
breakers of the sea. There, the winds and waves bore them
across to sacred Lesbos, the island which ever since has been
possessed by love and song. The men of Lesbos buried the
head with honors, and the Muses, by Zeus' leave, studded
the lyre with stars and flung it into the heavens. On Earth,
too, Orpheus' legacy lives on, and across the hills of Thrace
the love of handsome boys flourishes to this day.
O r p h e u s
Dionysus and Satyrs