I
IT happened
once that Zeus would punish Apollo, his son. Then he banished him
from Olympus, and he made him put off his divinity and appear as a
mortal man. And as a mortal Apollo sought to earn his bread amongst
men. He came to the house of King Admetus and took service with him
as his herdsman.
For a year
Apollo served the young king, minding his herds [pg 259] of black cattle. Admetus
did not know that it was one of the immortal gods who was in his
house and in his fields. But he treated him in friendly wise, and
Apollo was happy whilst serving Admetus.
Afterward
people wondered at Admetus’s ever-smiling face and ever-radiant
being. It was the god’s kindly thought of him that gave him such
happiness. And when Apollo was leaving his house and his fields he
revealed himself to Admetus, and he made a promise to him that when
the god of the Underworld sent Death for him he would have one more
chance of baffling Death than any mortal man.
That was before
Admetus sailed on the Argo with Jason and the companions
of the quest. The companionship of Admetus brought happiness to
many on the voyage, but the hero to whom it gave the most happiness
was Heracles. And often Heracles would have Admetus beside him to
tell him about the radiant god Apollo, whose bow and arrows
Heracles had been given.
After that
voyage and after the hunt in Calydon Admetus went back to his own
land. There he wed that fair and loving woman, Alcestis. He might
not wed her until he had yoked lions and leopards to the chariot
that drew her. This was a feat that no hero had been able to
accomplish. With Apollo’s aid he accomplished it. Thereafter
Admetus, having the love of Alcestis, was even more happy than he
had been before. [pg
260]
One day as he
walked by fold and through pasture field he saw a figure standing
beside his herd of black cattle. A radiant figure it was, and
Admetus knew that this was Apollo come to him again. He went toward
the god and he made reverence and began to speak to him. But Apollo
turned to Admetus a face that was without joy.
“What years of happiness have been mine, O Apollo,
through your friendship for me,” said Admetus. “Ah, as I walked my pasture land to-day it came into my
mind how much I loved this green earth and the blue sky! And all
that I know of love and happiness has come to me through
you.”
But still
Apollo stood before him with a face that was without joy. He spoke
and his voice was not that clear and vibrant voice that he had once
in speaking to Admetus. “Admetus,
Admetus,” he said, “it is for me to
tell you that you may no more look on the blue sky nor walk upon
the green earth. It is for me to tell you that the god of the
Underworld will have you come to him. Admetus, Admetus, know that
even now the god of the Underworld is sending Death for
you.”
Then the light
of the world went out for Admetus, and he heard himself speaking to
Apollo in a shaking voice: “O Apollo,
Apollo, thou art a god, and surely thou canst save me! Save me now
from this Death that the god of the Underworld is sending for
me!”
But Apollo
said, “Long ago, Admetus, I made a bargain
with the god of the Underworld on thy behalf. Thou hast been
[pg 261] given a
chance more than any mortal man. If one will go willingly in thy
place with Death, thou canst still live on. Go, Admetus. Thou art
well loved, and it may be that thou wilt find one to take thy
place.”
Then Apollo
went up unto the mountaintop and Admetus stayed for a while beside
the cattle. It seemed to him that a little of the darkness had
lifted from the world. He would go to his palace. There were aged
men and women there, servants and slaves, and one of them would
surely be willing to take the king’s place and go with Death down
to the Underworld.
So Admetus
thought as he went toward the palace. And then he came upon an
ancient woman who sat upon stones in the courtyard, grinding corn
between two stones. Long had she been doing that wearisome labor.
Admetus had known her from the first time he had come into that
courtyard as a little child, and he had never seen aught in her
face but a heavy misery. There she was sitting as he had first
known her, with her eyes bleared and her knees shaking, and with
the dust of the courtyard and the husks of the corn in her matted
hair. He went to her and spoke to her, and he asked her to take the
place of the king and go with Death.
But when she
heard the name of Death horror came into the face of the ancient
woman, and she cried out that she would not let Death come near
her. Then Admetus left her, and he came upon another, upon a
sightless man who held out a shriveled hand for the food that the
servants of the palace might [pg 262] bestow upon him. Admetus took the man’s
shriveled hand, and he asked him if he would not take the king’s
place and go with Death that was coming for him. The sightless man,
with howls and shrieks, said he would not go.
Then Admetus
went into the palace and into the chamber where his bed was, and he
lay down upon the bed and he lamented that he would have to go with
Death that was coming for him from the god of the Underworld, and
he lamented that none of the wretched ones around the palace would
take his place.
A hand was laid
upon him. He looked up and he saw his tall and grave-eyed wife,
Alcestis, beside him. Alcestis spoke to him slowly and gravely.
“I have heard what you have said, O my
husband,” said she. “One should go
in your place, for you are the king and have many great affairs to
attend to. And if none other will go, I, Alcestis, will go in your
place, Admetus.”
It had seemed
to Admetus that ever since he had heard the words of Apollo that
heavy footsteps were coming toward him. Now the footsteps seemed to
stop. It was not so terrible for him as before. He sprang up, and
he took the hands of Alcestis and he said, “You, then, will take my place?”
“I will go with Death in your place, Admetus,”
Alcestis said.
Then, even as
Admetus looked into her face, he saw a pallor come upon her; her
body weakened and she sank down upon the bed. Then, watching over
her, he knew that not he but [pg 263] Alcestis would go with Death. And the
words he had spoken he would have taken back—the words that had
brought her consent to go with Death in his place.
Paler and
weaker Alcestis grew. Death would soon be here for her. No, not
here, for he would not have Death come into the palace. He lifted
Alcestis from the bed and he carried her from the palace. He
carried her to the temple of the gods. He laid her there upon the
bier and waited there beside her. No more speech came from her. He
went back to the palace where all was silent—the servants moved
about with heads bowed, lamenting silently for their mistress.
II
As Admetus was
coming back from the temple he heard a great shout; he looked up
and saw one standing at the palace doorway. He knew him by his
lion’s skin and his great height. This was Heracles—Heracles come
to visit him, but come at a sad hour. He could not now rejoice in
the company of Heracles. And yet Heracles might be on his way from
the accomplishment of some great labor, and it would not be right
to say a word that might turn him away from his doorway; he might
have much need of rest and refreshment.
Thinking this
Admetus went up to Heracles and took his hand and welcomed him into
his house. “How is it with you, friend
Admetus?” Heracles asked. Admetus would only say
[pg 264] that nothing
was happening in his house and that Heracles, his hero-companion,
was welcome there. His mind was upon a great sacrifice, he said,
and so he would not be able to feast with him.
The servants
brought Heracles to the bath, and then showed him where a feast was
laid for him. And as for Admetus, he went within the chamber, and
knelt beside the bed on which Alcestis had lain, and thought of his
terrible loss.
Heracles, after
the bath, put on the brightly colored tunic that the servants of
Admetus brought him. He put a wreath upon his head and sat down to
the feast. It was a pity, he thought, that Admetus was not feasting
with him. But this was only the first of many feasts. And thinking
of what companionship he would have with Admetus, Heracles left the
feasting hall and came to where the servants were standing about in
silence.
“Why is the house of Admetus so hushed to-day?”
Heracles asked.
“It is because of what is befalling,” said one
of the servants.
“Ah, the sacrifice that the king is making,”
said Heracles. “To what god is that
sacrifice due?”
“To the god of the Underworld,” said the
servant. “Death is coming to Alcestis the
queen where she lies on a bier in the temple of the
gods.”
Then the
servant told Heracles the story of how Alcestis had taken her
husband’s place, going in his stead with Death. Heracles thought
upon the sorrow of his friend, and of the great [pg 265] sacrifice that his wife
was making for him. How noble it was of Admetus to bring him into
his house and give entertainment to him while such sorrow was upon
him. And then Heracles felt that another labor was before him.
“I have dragged up from the Underworld,” he
thought, “the hound that guards those whom
Death brings down into the realm of the god of the Underworld. Why
should I not strive with Death? And what a noble thing it would be
to bring back this faithful woman to her house and to her husband!
This is a labor that has not been laid upon me, and it is a labor I
will undertake.” So Heracles said to himself.
He left the
palace of Admetus and he went to the temple of the gods. He stood
inside the temple and he saw the bier on which Alcestis was laid.
He looked upon the queen. Death had not touched her yet, although
she lay so still and so silent. Heracles would watch beside her and
strive with Death for her.
Heracles
watched and Death came. When Death entered the temple Heracles laid
hands upon him. Death had never been gripped by mortal hands and he
strode on as if that grip meant nothing to him. But then he had to
grip Heracles. In Death’s grip there was a strength beyond
strength. And upon Heracles a dreadful sense of loss came as Death
laid hands upon him—a sense of the loss of light and the loss of
breath and the loss of movement. But Heracles struggled with Death
although his breath went and his strength seemed to go from him. He
held that stony body to him, and the cold of that body went through
[pg 266] him, and its
stoniness seemed to turn his bones to stone, but still Heracles
strove with him, and at last he overthrew him and he held Death
down upon the ground.
“Now you are held by me, Death,” cried Heracles.
“You are held by me, and the god of the
Underworld will be made angry because you cannot go about his
business—either this business or any other business. You are held
by me, Death, and you will not be let go unless you promise to go
forth from this temple without bringing one with you.” And
Death, knowing that Heracles could hold him there, and that the
business of the god of the Underworld would be left undone if he
were held, promised that he would leave the temple without bringing
one with him. Then Heracles took his grip off Death, and that stony
shape went from the temple.
Soon a flush
came into the face of Alcestis as Heracles watched over her. Soon
she arose from the bier on which she had been laid. She called out
to Admetus, and Heracles went to her and spoke to her, telling her
that he would bring her back to her husband’s house.
III
Admetus left
the chamber where his wife had lain and stood before the door of
his palace. Dawn was coming, and as he looked toward the temple he
saw Heracles coming to the palace. A woman came with him. She was
veiled, and Admetus could not see her features. [pg 267]
“Admetus,” Heracles said, when he came before
him, “Admetus, there is something I would
have you do for me. Here is a woman whom I am bringing back to her
husband. I won her from an enemy. Will you not take her into your
house while I am away on a journey?”
“You cannot ask me to do this, Heracles,” said
Admetus. “No woman may come into the house
where Alcestis, only yesterday, had her life.”
“For my sake take her into your house,” said
Heracles. “Come now, Admetus, take this
woman by the hand.”
A pang came to
Admetus as he looked at the woman who stood beside Heracles and saw
that she was the same stature as his lost wife. He thought that he
could not bear to take her hand. But Heracles pleaded with him, and
he took her by the hand.
“Now take her across your threshold, Admetus,”
said Heracles.
Hardly could
Admetus bear to do this—hardly could he bear to think of a strange
woman being in his house and his own wife gone with Death. But
Heracles pleaded with him, and by the hand he held he drew the
woman across his threshold.
“Now raise her veil, Admetus,” said
Heracles.
“This I cannot do,” said Admetus. “I have had pangs enough. How can I look upon a woman’s
face and remind myself that I cannot look upon Alcestis’s face ever
again?”
“Raise her veil, Admetus,” said Heracles.
[pg 268]
Then Admetus
raised the veil of the woman he had taken across the threshold of
his house. He saw the face of Alcestis. He looked again upon his
wife brought back from the grip of Death by Heracles, the son of
Zeus. And then a deeper joy than he had ever known came to Admetus.
Once more his wife was with him, and Admetus the friend of Apollo
and the friend of Heracles had all that he cared to have.
