To the period of the Peloponnesian War may also be assigned a sculptured balustrade which inclosed and protected the precinct of the little Temple of Wingless Victory on the Acropolis (Fig. 70).  One slab of this balustrade is shown in Fig. 133.  It represents a winged Victory stooping to tie (or, as some will have it, to untie) her sandal.  The soft Ionic chiton, clinging to the form, reminds one of the drapery of the reclining goddess from the eastern pediment of the Parthenon (Fig. 129), but it finds its closest analogy, among datable sculptures, in a fragment of relief recently found at Rhamnus in Attica.  This belonged to the pedestal of a statue by Agoracritus, one of the most famous pupils of Phidias.

The Attic grave-relief given in Fig. 134 seems to belong somewhere near the end of the fifth century.  The subject is a common one on this class of monuments, but is nowhere else so exquisitely treated.  There is no allusion to the fact of death.  Hegeso, the deceased lady, is seated and is holding up a necklace or some such object (originally, it may be supposed, indicated by color), which she has just taken from the jewel-box held out by the standing slave-woman.  Another fine grave-relief (Fig. 135) may be introduced here, though it perhaps belongs to the beginning of the fourth century rather than to the end of the fifth.  It must commemorate some young Athenian cavalryman.  It is characteristic that the relief ignores his death and represents him in a moment of victory.  Observe that on both these monuments there is no attempt at realistic portraiture and that on both we may trace the influence of the style of the Parthenon frieze.

Among the other bas-reliefs which show that influence there is no difficulty in choosing one of exceptional beauty, the so-called Orpheus relief (Fig. 136).  This is known to us in three copies, unless indeed the Naples example be the original.  The story here set forth is one of the most touching in Greek mythology.  Orpheus, the Thracian singer, has descended into Hades in quest of his dead wife, Eurydice, and has so charmed by his music the stern Persephone that she has suffered him to lead back his wife to the upper air, provided only he will not look upon her on the way.  But love has overcome him.  He has turned and looked, and the doom of an irrevocable parting is sealed.  In no unseemly paroxysm of grief, but tenderly, sadly, they look their last at one another, while Hermes, guide of departed spirits, makes gentle signal for the wife’s return.  In the chastened pathos of this scene we have the quintessence of the temper of Greek art in dealing with the fact of death.