That love of allegory which is indicated by this drawing, and by the artist’s addiction to poetry, was a taste he shared with Dürer and Holbein the younger. It is further illustrated by the two inkstands which come from his hand and, in a less degree, by the two plaquettes of Orpheus and Eurydice we have now to consider. (Ill. 19 and 20.) [Illustration: STEIN PHOTO.] [PLAQUETTE IN POSSESSION OF M. DREYFUS, PARIS 19. ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE] There are, indeed, four plaquettes on this subject in existence, all undoubtedly by the same master. But three of these are practically identical. The other, the earliest as it would appear, is in the possession of M. Dreyfus of Paris. It was at one time attributed to Jacopo de’ Barbari. But this, like the other plaquettes, bears Vischer’s mark clearly enough—two fish lying back to back pierced through by a nail or dagger, a device found also on the two inkstands. The two nude figures of Orpheus and Eurydice do, however, undoubtedly owe very much to the influence of Jacopo and Sansovino on the one hand, just as they are related to the _Adam and Eve_ of Dürer on the other. In this earlier version of the subject it is evident that the artist has been moved by the above-mentioned influences to study the nude, but his study is not yet complete. For the modelling of the Orpheus is not all that could be desired, the legs of this figure in particular being awkward and constrained. The Eurydice is more successful, and is less hard and angular in treatment. But, as Lübke observed, the parallelism produced by the presentation of the two forms in the act of turning lends a distinct harshness to the composition. For all that there is one quality present here which we have learnt to expect from this master. He has seized the dramatic moment when, in Vergil’s words, “a sudden madness took hold of the unwary lover,” and, “in his desire to behold her, he turned his eyes” upon his half-regained Eurydice. But he could not hold her safe “within the bond of one immortal look.” Just as she emerges from the rocks of the underworld he yields to this desire and turns. And as he turns and looks she stops and begins, under the constraint of the inexorable law of Proserpine, to be drawn back to the shades whence she came. Into her face there has come a look of sorrow and sad reproach, whilst the movement of her hands and head and hair betoken the beginning of that inevitable return. With the gesture of her left hand Eurydice seems almost to utter the lines of Vergil: “Quis et me miseram et te perdidit, Orpheu, Quis tantus furor? Jamque vale—!” [Illustration: STEIN PHOTO.] [PLAQUETTE IN THE MUSEUM, BERLIN 20. ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE]