To the good, O thine be enthronement
By Hades’ bride.“[[29]]
Meantime Heracles, with mind at perfect ease concerning the fortunes of his host, had been feasting and making merry within the palace. Rooms apart had been assigned to him; precautions had been taken that he should not be disturbed by the sounds of mourning, and the servants had been warned not to betray to him what was passing. So in all good faith he had given himself up to jollity, scandalizing the man who waited on him until the honest fellow could bear it no longer, and flung himself sulkily out of the house. He is followed soon by Heracles himself, who cannot comprehend the reason for the servant’s gloom and chides him good-humouredly. Why such excessive grief for a woman alien-born? he asks. Surely such sullen service is not worthy either of master or of guest.
At first the man is reticent, fearing to offend the king. But pressed by Heracles, he presently reveals that it is not a stranger who is dead, but the queen herself; and that even now the funeral train is returning from the grave.
Heracles is overwhelmed with sorrow for his friend and contrition for his own untimely revelling. For a few moments he stands heaping reproaches on himself, and on the servants for their silence; but he is not long inactive. The generosity of Admetus fires his own heart; and his thought leaps impetuously to an act of tremendous daring. He will face the power of Death himself, and wrest Alcestis from him. He puts rapid questions to the man concerning the place of burial, calls up every resource of energy and endurance, and nerves himself for his grim task by a determination to requite Admetus worthily.
“... I must save the woman newly dead,
And set Alcestis in this house again,
And render to Admetus good for good.
I go. The sable-vestured King of Corpses,
Death, will I watch for, and shall find, I trow,