In the lovely poem by William Morris on this subject, there is a picture of King Admetus which glows with just the charm that such a nature might possess. The poem, which is called _The Love of Alcestis_, relates that part of the legend which precedes the climax treated by Euripides. It tells of the coming of the god Apollo to Thessaly, to serve as an unknown herdsman to Admetus, King of Pheræ, for nine long years; of Admetus’ wooing of the young daughter of Pelias, King of Iolchos, and of the impossible condition (fulfilled, however, by the divine herdsman’s aid) that whoever would wed with Alcestis must fetch her for her bridal in a chariot drawn by a lion and a boar. It tells, too, of the god’s help in foiling the spells of Artemis over the bride; of the happy wedded life; and of the departure of Apollo, leaving with the royal couple what seemed at first a priceless boon—the promise that when Admetus came to die, another life should be accepted by the Fates in his stead. This is the man whose gracious serenity first won the love of the god when, banished from Olympus, he came to serve as a thrall: _Young, strong, and godlike, lacking naught at all Of gifts that unto royal men might fall In those old simple days.... ... Little like a king, As we call kings, but glad with everything, The wise Thessalian sat and blessed his life, So free from sickening fear and foolish strife._[28] He stretched an eager hand to the young stranger who knelt at his feet, begging hospitality, and promising rich rewards. _“Rise up, and be my guest,” Admetus said. “I need no gifts for this poor gift of bread, The land is wide and bountiful enow.”_[28] From that moment, there was a tender comradeship between the king and his new herdsman, which only grew stronger with time. Now and then, strange tokens made Admetus wonder about his guest’s identity; but he refrained from questioning him, and it was not until the last day of the appointed service that the revelation came. The king’s sweet bride had been won ere then; brought home to Pheræ in an ivory chariot which the stranger had marvellously provided, drawn by a lion and a boar; and the circle of their happiness seemed complete. But one soft evening when the sun was sinking, the herdsman drew the king out of the palace; and together they climbed the hill to watch the sun go down. There fell on Admetus a sense of sadness, and soon he was aware of a wonderful change in the figure at his side. He dared not raise his eyes, for he was conscious of glory which might not be looked upon. Awe filled him, and now he knew the meaning of his sadness. This mysterious guest who had been so strong and wise and kind a friend, was leaving him. As he stood trembling, in dread and sorrow, the dear voice that he loved fell on his ear once more, thrilling him with its music: