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Meanwhile Heracles had been led to a guest-chamber apart, and the servants ministered to all his wants, and brought him water to wash with, and change of raiment. As they waited on him, he talked gaily to them of his adventures on the way, and made them laugh in spite of their grief for their mistress. Only the old serving-man stood aloof, and looked darkly at the stranger who dared to make merry in a house of mourning.
When he had washed and dressed, he sat down to meat. They placed an ample meal before him, and brought him wine to drink. But in his eyes their bounty was dearth, and he kept calling for more till they could scarce contain their astonishment at his appetite. At length, when he had eaten his fill, he crowned his head with vine-leaves, and fell to drinking long and deep. The wine warmed his heart, and sent a cheerful glow through all his veins. So happy was he that he could not sit in silence, but raised his voice and sang, and his singing was like the roaring of a bull.
"Great Zeus, preserve us!" sighed the old waiting-man; "never have I heard anything more discordant and unseemly."
But the guest grew merrier and merrier, and the face of the serving-man, as he watched, grew longer and longer. At length Heracles himself noticed his disapproving countenance.
"Ho, there!" cried he; "why so dark and gloomy, my friend? I had as soon be welcomed by an iceberg as by thee, old sour-face."
The serving-man answered him never a word, but only scowled the more.
"What!" cried Heracles, "is this the sort of welcome thou art wont to give thy master's guests? Come hither, and I will teach thee better ways."
And he took hold of the old man and set him down beside him at the table.