“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. 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. VI. How Orpheus the Minstrel Went Down to the World of the Dead [Decorative first letter] _M_ANY were the minstrels who, in the early days, went through the world, telling to men the stories of the gods, telling of their wars and their births. Of all these minstrels none was so famous as Orpheus who had gone with the Argonauts; none could tell truer things about the gods, for he himself was half divine. But a great grief came to Orpheus, a grief that stopped his singing and his playing upon the lyre. His young wife Eurydice was taken from him. One day, walking in the garden, she was bitten on the heel by a serpent, and straightway she went down to the world of the dead. Then everything in this world was dark and bitter for the minstrel Orpheus; sleep would not come to him, and for him food had no taste. Then Orpheus said: “I will do that which no mortal has ever done before; I will do that which even the immortals might shrink from doing: I will go down into the world of the dead, and I will bring back to the living and to the light my bride Eurydice.” [Illustration]