power of death. Even the hard-hearted monarch of hell is moved for
Orpheus, who

"Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
And made hell grant what love did seek."

But the rescue has one condition. He must restrain himself, must not
look upon the face of his beloved though he bears her in his arms, until
they have passed the region of the shadow of death, and may see one
another in the sunlight of the bright earth again. The many versions of
the tragic disobedience to this condition bear eloquent testimony, not
certainly to any changing phase of the sky, but to the manifold aspects
of human life. According to some accounts, it was the rashness of
Orpheus that did the evil--love's impatience, that could not wait the
fitting time, and, snatching prematurely that which was its due,
sacrificed all. According to other accounts, it was Eurydice who tempted
Orpheus, her love and pain having grown too hungry and blind. However
that may be, the error was fatal, and on the very eve of victory all was
lost. It was lost, not by any snatching back in which strong hands of
hell tore his beloved from the man's grasp. Within his arms the form of
Eurydice faded away, and as he clutched at her his fingers closed upon
the empty air. That, too, is a law deep in the nature of things. It is
by no arbitrary decree that self-restraint has been imposed on love. In
this, as in all other things, a man must consent to lose his life in
order to find it; and those who will not accept the conditions, will be
visited by no melodramatic or violent catastrophe. Love which has broken
law will simply fade away and vanish.

The third part of the story is no less interesting and significant.
Maddened with this second loss, so irrevocable and yet due to so