"Ah, my friend, how can I thank thee? I have not deserved so much joy," cried Admetus, and fell on his knees before them.
"I thought not of thy deserts, but of hers," said Heracles. "Come, take her in."
"I dare not touch her. Ah, lady, canst thou love one who sent thee to thy death?" he asked, with head bowed down before her.
She answered him never a word, but held out both her hands and raised him from his knees; and he looked deep into her eyes, and found them full of love. Tenderly and humbly he put his arm about her and led her away, and felt that, if anything on earth could ever raise him from the depths of selfishness and meanness to which he had fallen, it would be the boundless, measureless love of the woman before him.
"Now to change the funeral feast to a banquet of rejoicing," cried Heracles. "Truly, I could eat an ox after this last bout of mine."
