Very soon, however, and with bewildering suddenness, the little cloud gathered into storm. The fiat went out from the Moiræ that Admetus was to die—now, in the glory of youth and strength, a goodly prize to enrich the House of Hades. One favour only they would grant, at the supplication of Apollo for his mortal friend—that the king might live if father or mother or wife would consent to die for him. Admetus, unprepared for an ordeal which must shake so slight a nature to its roots; and with all his kindly social virtues rent by the shock, forgot his manhood. The old people clung feverishly to their remnant of dear life; and Alcestis knew that this was the moment when the compact that she had made with her own soul must be ratified to the powers below. She gave her word to the Fates that she would die for her husband. Now the appointed day has come; and before the palace of Admetus a grim contest is in progress. Guarding the door with his splendid presence is the great Sun-god himself, making a last stand against Hades, lord of the dead, who has come in person from the Underworld to claim his victim. He may not use force against this shadowy king; but with all the strength of persuasion he pleads for Alcestis’ life. “My heart is heavy for my friend’s mischance,” he says; and tries to touch the obdurate spirit by the thought of this noble wife’s youth and goodness. But Death will yield no jot to his entreaty; and as Apollo reluctantly gives place to him, vanquished for the moment, he flings a threat at the great Enemy. “_Surely thou shalt forbear, though ruthless thou, So mighty a man to Pheres’ halls shall come, Sent of Eurystheus forth, the courser-car From winter-dreary lands of Thrace to bring. Guest-welcomed in Admetus’ palace here, By force yon woman shall he wrest from thee. Yea, thou of me shalt have no thank for this, And yet shalt do it, and shalt have mine hate._“[29] The prophecy contains a gleam of wild hope; but Death passes on unheeding, and there gather slowly before the doors the friends who have been summoned to mourn for the dying queen. They are awed by the hush that lies upon the house, and hardly know how to interpret it. Perhaps it means that Alcestis is already dead, they conjecture; and that the funeral train has left the palace. Yet this can hardly be. _Would the king without pomp of procession have yielded the Grave the possession Of so dear, of so faithful an one?_[29] No, they would rather surmise that Alcestis is living still; and as one of the queen’s maids comes out, they beg eagerly for news. The girl tells them through tears that her mistress does indeed still live, but that the end is very near. Even now, in quiet courage, the queen is performing all the needful rites.