of the Bretons, as the delivery of this tale is framed with
a suggestive reference to the lai’s original oral perfor-
mance, accompanied by harp music.
Orpheus of classical antiquity morphs into the con-
summate harp-playing medieval king, Sir Orfeo,
whose skill is so great that his music has paradisiacal
qualities. Through this initial focus on the restorative
powers of this medieval minstrel king’s harp playing
(ll. 25–38), the poem foregrounds its dynamic narra-
tive shift from a focus on tragic loss to human restora-
tion and redemption through the power of art.
Whereas the Orpheus and Eurydice narrative of the
CLASSICAL TRADITION ends with the irrevocable loss of
Eurydice and ultimately the complete destruction of
Orpheus, this medieval romance restructures King
Orfeo’s loss of his queen, Heurodis, as temporary—an
event that initiates a move into exile, a quest to the
Otherworld, and ultimately the recovery of both his
queen and the kingdom he abandons.
Heurodis’s abduction takes place almost immedi-
ately, in a typical romance setting—the cultivated
medieval orchard that regularly serves not only as a
topography that expresses culture, community, and
aesthetic self-consciousness, but also, with its garden-
like qualities, as a potential locus for a fall from grace.
During a May morning stroll with two of her ladies,
Heurodis falls asleep on the green under “a fair ympe-
tree” (a grafted fruit or ornamental tree, l. 70). She
wakes up screaming, rubbing her face and hands and
scratching her “visage” until it bleeds (l. 80). With the
help of knights from the castle who have heard that
their queen may be going mad, Heurodis’s ladies return
her to the castle and bring her to her bed. A troubled
King Orfeo joins Heurodis at her bedside to fi nd out
what has been disturbing her. Heurodis narrates her
dream from the orchard—a nightmarish visitation
from a dark lord who took her forcibly from the castle
garden, showed her his parallel realms, and insisted, in
complete disregard of her objections to this raptus
(abduction), that he will return on the following day
and that Heurodis should be ready to accompany him.
Orfeo and 1,000 of his best knights prepare a valiant
defense for the next day but fail to prevent the dark
lord from snatching Heurodis from their midst and
taking her to the Otherworld (ll. 192–193).
In response to his overwhelming grief, Orfeo gathers
his lords and explains that he will leave the kingdom to
live out his sorrow in isolation as a hermit in the forest.
He appoints his steward to rule in his place and indi-
cates that his subjects should convene “a parlement” to
select a new king once he is dead (ll. 215–218). He
puts on a pilgrim’s mantle and leaves his hall to the
general mourning and weeping of all.
While living out his despair in the forest, Orfeo still
manages to charm its beasts with his harp playing. At
one point, he recognizes Dame Heurodis as part of the
hunting party of “the king of fairy and his rout” (l.
284) and follows her as she disappears with the fairy
retinue “in at a roche” (l. 347). He discovers a dra-
matic realm, beyond that of the living, occupied by
fantastic folk. The glimmering quality of this kingdom
recalls a Christian paradise even as its torsos with sev-
ered heads and strangled, drowned, and burned occu-
pants summon up a Dantean Christian hell. Contiguous
fi elds of plenty and locales for suffering recall classical
Hades. Royally arrayed battlements, burnished castle
architecture, and occupants who seem fi xed in cir-
cumstances identical to those at the moment of their
abduction into “fairi” fi nally recall the Celtic Other-
world of medieval romance. It is here that Orfeo, dis-
guised as a poor minstrel, discovers Heurodis, plays
his harp for the Otherworld’s king, and impresses him
with his art so thoroughly that he wins the boon of
returning to the realm of the living with Heurodis lit-
erally in hand.
There is no tragic separation of the lovers at the edge
of Hades; rather, with their departure from the Other-
world, the Orfeo-poet initiates a sequence of events
that builds to Orfeo’s return to his kingdom. In his
poor minstrel disguise, he continues to test the honesty
of the steward he has left in charge. He discovers from
his faithful steward that “everich gode harpour” [“every
good harper”] is welcome in his abandoned kingdom
“for mi lordes love, Sir Orfeo” (ll. 517–518). It is, in
fact, Orfeo’s magnifi cent harp playing combined with
the moving speculative narrative he tells of King Orfeo’s
death (ll. 538–539) and his quick offer of an alterna-
tive Orfeo-resurrection narrative that ultimately allows
the steward and his entire court not only to recognize
Orfeo but to restore him to his throne.SIR ORFEO 415