But one day Admetus fell ill, and he grew weaker and weaker until he
lay at death's door. Then, when no remedy was found to help him and the
hope of the people was failing, they remembered the promise of the
Fates to spare the king if some one else would die in his stead. This
seemed a simple matter for one whose wishes are law, and whose life is
needed by all his fellow-men. But, strange to say, the substitute did
not come forward at once.

Among the king's most faithful friends, many were afraid to die. Men
said that they would gladly give their lives in battle, but that they
could not die in bed at home like helpless old women. The wealthy had
too much to live for; and the poor, who possessed nothing but life,
could not bear to give up that. Even the aged parents of Admetus shrunk
from the thought of losing the few years that remained to them, and
thought it impious that any one should name such a sacrifice.

All this time, the three Fates were waiting to cut the thread of life,
and they could not wait longer.

Then, seeing that even the old and wretched clung to their gift of
life, who should offer herself but the young and lovely queen,
Alcestis? Sorrowful but resolute, she determined to be the victim, and
made ready to die for the sake of her husband.

She took leave of her children and commended them to the care of
Admetus. All his pleading could not change the decree of the Fates.
Alcestis prepared for death as for some consecration. She bathed and
anointed her body, and, as a mortal illness seized her, she lay down to
die, robed in fair raiment, and bade her kindred farewell. The
household was filled with mourning, but it was too late. She waned