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Ixion in Heaven, by Benjamin Disraeli
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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ixion In Heaven, by Benjamin Disraeli
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Ixion In Heaven
Author: Benjamin Disraeli
Release Date: December 3, 2006 [EBook #20009]
Last Updated: September 7, 2016
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IXION IN HEAVEN ***
Produced by David Widger
</pre>
<p>
<br /> <br />
</p>
<h1>
IXION IN HEAVEN
</h1>
<h2>
By Benjamin Disraeli
</h2>
<p>
<br /> <br />
</p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
<i>ADVERTISEMENT</i>
<i>‘IXION, King of Thessaly, famous for its horses, married
Dia, daughter of Deioneus, who, in consequence of his son-
in-law’s non-fulfilment of his engagements, stole away some
of the monarch’s steeds. Ixion concealed his resentment
under the mask of friendship. He invited his father-in-law
to a feast at Larissa, the capital of his kingdom; and when
Deioneus arrived according to his appointment, he threw him
into a pit which he had previously filled with burning
coals. This treachery so irritated the neighbouring princes,
that all of them refused to perform the usual ceremony, by
which a man was then purified of murder, and Ixion was
shunned and despised by all mankind. Jupiter had compassion
upon him, carried him to Heaven, and introduced him to the
Father of the Gods. Such a favour, which ought to have
awakened gratitude in Ixion, only served to inflame his bad
passions; he became enamoured of Juno, and attempted to
seduce her. Juno was willing to gratify the passion of
Ixion, though, according to others,’ &c.—Classical
Dictionary, art. ‘Ixion.‘</i>
</pre>
<p>
<br /> <br />
</p>
<hr />
<p>
<br /> <br />
</p>
<h2>
Contents
</h2>
<table summary="">
<tr>
<td>
<p>
<a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>IXION IN HEAVEN</b></big> </a>
</p>
<p class="toc">
<a href="#link2H_PART1"> PART I. </a>
</p>
<p class="toc">
<a href="#link2H_PART2"> PART II. </a>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p>
<br /> <br />
</p>
<hr />
<p>
<a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br />
</p>
<h2>
IXION IN HEAVEN
</h2>
<p>
<a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1">
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
</p>
<div style="height: 4em;">
<br /><br /><br /><br />
</div>
<h2>
PART I.
</h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
<i>An Errant King</i>
</pre>
<p>
THE thunder groaned, the wind howled, the rain fell in hissing torrents,
impenetrable darkness covered the earth. A blue and forky flash darted a
momentary light over the landscape. A Doric temple rose in the centre of a
small and verdant plain, surrounded on all sides by green and hanging
woods.
</p>
<p>
‘Jove is my only friend,’ exclaimed a wanderer, as he muffled himself up
in his mantle; ‘and were it not for the porch of his temple, this night,
methinks, would complete the work of my loving wife and my dutiful
subjects.’
</p>
<p>
The thunder died away, the wind sank into silence, the rain ceased, and
the parting clouds exhibited the glittering crescent of the young moon. A
sonorous and majestic voice sounded from the skies:—
</p>
<p>
‘Who art thou that hast no other friend than Jove?’ ‘One whom all mankind
unite in calling a wretch.’ ‘Art thou a philosopher?’
</p>
<p>
‘If philosophy be endurance. But for the rest, I was sometime a king, and
am now a scatterling.’ ‘How do they call thee? ‘Ixion of Thessaly.’
</p>
<p>
‘Ixion of Thessaly! I thought he was a happy man. I heard that he was just
married.’
</p>
<p>
‘Father of Gods and men! for I deem thee such, Thessaly is not Olympus.
Conjugal felicity is only the portion of the immortals!’
</p>
<p>
‘Hem! What! was Dia jealous, which is common; or false, which is commoner;
or both, which is commonest?’
</p>
<p>
‘It may be neither. We quarrelled about nothing. Where there is little
sympathy, or too much, the splitting of a straw is plot enough for a
domestic tragedy. I was careless, her friends stigmatised me as callous;
she cold, her friends styled her magnanimous. Public opinion was all on
her side, merely because I did not choose that the world should interfere
between me and my wife. Dia took the world’s advice upon every point, and
the world decided that she always acted rightly. However, life is life,
either in a palace or a cave. I am glad you ordered it to leave off
thundering.’
</p>
<p>
‘A cool dog this. And Dia left thee? ‘No; I left her.’ ‘What, craven?’
</p>
<p>
‘Not exactly. The truth is——-’tis a long story.
</p>
<p>
I was over head and ears in debt.’
</p>
<p>
‘Ah! that accounts for everything. Nothing so harassing as a want of
money! But what lucky fellows you mortals are with your <i>post-obits!</i>
We Immortals are deprived of this resource. I was obliged to get up a
rebellion against my father, because he kept me so short, and could not
die.’
</p>
<p>
‘You could have married for money. I did.’ ‘I had no opportunity, there
was so little female society in those days. When I came out, there were no
heiresses except the Parcae, confirmed old maids; and no very rich
dowager, except my grandmother, old Terra.’
</p>
<p>
‘Just the thing; the older the better. However, I married Dia, the
daughter of Deioneus, with a prodigious portion; but after the ceremony
the old gentleman would not fulfil his part of the contract without my
giving up my stud. Can you conceive anything more unreasonable? I
smothered my resentment at the time; for the truth is, my tradesmen all
renewed my credit on the strength of the match, and so we went on very
well for a year; but at last they began to smell a rat, and grew
importunate. I entreated Dia to interfere; but she was a paragon of
daughters, and always took the side of her father. If she had only been
dutiful to her husband, she would have been a perfect woman. At last I
invited Deioneus to the Larissa races, with the intention of conciliating
him. The unprincipled old man bought the horse that I had backed, and by
which I intended to have redeemed my fortunes, and withdrew it. My book
was ruined. I dissembled my rage. I dug a pit in our garden, and filled it
with burning coals. As my father-in-law and myself were taking a stroll
after dinner, the worthy Deioneus fell in, merely by accident. Dia
proclaimed me the murderer of her father, and, as a satisfaction to her
wounded feelings, earnestly requested her subjects to decapitate her
husband. She certainly was the best of daughters. There was no
withstanding public opinion, an infuriated rabble, and a magnanimous wife
at the same time. They surrounded my palace: I cut my way through the
greasy-capped multitude, sword in hand, and gained a neighbouring Court,
where I solicited my brother princes to purify me from the supposed
murder. If I had only murdered a subject, they would have supported me
against the people; but Deioneus being a crowned head, like themselves,
they declared they would not countenance so immoral a being as his
son-in-law. And so, at length, after much wandering, and shunned by all my
species, I am here, Jove, in much higher society than I ever expected to
mingle.’
</p>
<p>
‘Well, thou art a frank dog, and in a sufficiently severe scrape. The Gods
must have pity on those for whom men have none. It is evident that Earth
is too hot for thee at present, so I think thou hadst better come and stay
a few weeks with us in Heaven.’ ‘Take my thanks for hecatombs, great Jove.
Thou art, indeed, a God!’
</p>
<p>
‘I hardly know whether our life will suit you. We dine at sunset; for
Apollo is so much engaged that he cannot join us sooner, and no dinner
goes off well without him. In the morning you are your own master, and
must find amusement where you can. Diana will show you some tolerable
sport. Do you shoot?’
</p>
<p>
‘No arrow surer. Fear not for me, Ægiochus: I am always at home. But how
am I to get to you?’ ‘I will send Mercury; he is the best travelling
companion in the world. What ho! my Eagle!’
</p>
<p>
The clouds joined, and darkness again fell over the earth.
</p>
<p>
‘So! tread softly. Don’t be nervous. Are you sick?’
</p>
<p>
‘A little nausea; ‘tis nothing.’
</p>
<p>
‘The novelty of the motion. The best thing is a beefsteak. We will stop at
Taurus and take one.’
</p>
<p>
‘You have been a great traveller, Mercury?’
</p>
<p>
‘I have seen the world.’
</p>
<p>
‘Ah! a wondrous spectacle. I long to travel.’
</p>
<p>
‘The same thing over and over again. Little novelty and much change. I am
wearied with exertion, and if I could get a pension would retire.’
</p>
<p>
‘And yet travel brings wisdom.’
</p>
<p>
‘It cures us of care. Seeing much we feel little, and learn how very petty
are all those great affairs which cost us such anxiety.’
</p>
<p>
‘I feel that already myself. Floating in this blue aether, what the devil
is my wife to me, and her dirty Earth! My persecuting enemies seem so many
pismires; and as for my debts, which have occasioned me so many brooding
moments, honour and infamy, credit and beggary, seem to me alike
ridiculous.’
</p>
<p>
‘Your mind is opening, Ixion. You will soon be a man of the world. To the
left, and keep clear of that star.’
</p>
<p>
‘Who lives there?’
</p>
<p>
‘The Fates know, not I. Some low people who are trying to shine into
notice. ‘Tis a parvenu planet, and only sprung into space within this
century. We do not visit them.’
</p>
<p>
‘Poor devils! I feel hungry.’
</p>
<p>
‘All right. We shall get into Heaven by the first dinner bolt. You cannot
arrive at a strange house at a better moment. We shall just have time to
dress. I would not spoil my appetite by luncheon. Jupiter keeps a capital
cook.’
</p>
<p>
‘I have heard of Nectar and Ambrosia.’ ‘Poh! nobody touches them. They are
regular old-fashioned celestial food, and merely put upon the side-table.
Nothing goes down in Heaven now but infernal cookery. We took our chef
from Proserpine.’
</p>
<p>
‘Were you ever in Hell?’
</p>
<p>
‘Several times. ‘Tis the fashion now among the Olympians to pass the
winter there.’ ‘Is this the season in Heaven?’ ‘Yes; you are lucky.
Olympus is quite full.’ ‘It was kind of Jupiter to invite me.’ ‘Ay! he has
his good points. And, no doubt, he has taken a liking to you, which is all
very well. But be upon your guard. He has no heart, and is as capricious
as he is tyrannical.’
</p>
<p>
‘Gods cannot be more unkind to me than men have been.’
</p>
<p>
‘All those who have suffered think they have seen the worst. A great
mistake. However, you are now in the high road to preferment, so we will
not be dull. There are some good fellows enough amongst us. You will like
old Neptune.’ ‘Is he there now?’
</p>
<p>
‘Yes, he generally passes his summer with us. There is little stirring in
the ocean at that season.’ ‘I am anxious to see Mars.’
</p>
<p>
‘Oh! a brute, more a bully than a hero. Not at all in the best set. These
mustachioed gentry are by no means the rage at present in Olympus. The
women are all literary now, and Minerva has quite eclipsed Venus. Apollo
is our hero. You must read his last work.’
</p>
<p>
‘I hate reading.’
</p>
<p>
‘So do I. I have no time, and seldom do anything in that way but glance at
a newspaper. Study and action will not combine.’
</p>
<p>
‘I suppose I shall find the Goddesses very proud?’
</p>
<p>
‘You will find them as you find women below, of different dispositions
with the same object. Venus is a flirt; Minerva a prude, who fancies she
has a correct taste and a strong mind; and Juno a politician. As for the
rest, faint heart never won fair lady; take a friendly hint, and do not be
alarmed.’
</p>
<p>
‘I fear nothing. My mind mounts with my fortunes. We are above the clouds.
They form beneath us a vast and snowy region, dim and irregular, as I have
sometimes seen them clustering upon the horizon’s ridge at sunset, like a
raging sea stilled by some sudden supernatural frost and frozen into form!
How bright the air above us, and how delicate its fragrant breath! I
scarcely breathe, and yet my pulses beat like my first youth. I hardly
feel my being. A splendour falls upon your presence. You seem, indeed, a
God! Am I so glorious? This, this is Heaven!’
</p>
<p>
The travellers landed on a vast flight of sparkling steps of lapis-lazuli.
Ascending, they entered beautiful gardens; winding walks that yielded to
the feet, and accelerated your passage by their rebounding pressure;
fragrant shrubs covered with dazzling flowers, the fleeting tints of which
changed every moment; groups of tall trees, with strange birds of
brilliant and variegated plumage, singing and reposing in their sheeny
foliage, and fountains of perfumes.
</p>
<p>
Before them rose an illimitable and golden palace, with high spreading
domes of pearl, and long windows of crystal. Around the huge portal of
ruby was ranged a company of winged genii, who smiled on Mercury as he
passed them with his charge.
</p>
<p>
‘The Father of Gods and men is dressing,’ said the son of Maia. ‘I shall
attend his toilet and inform him of your arrival. These are your rooms.
Dinner will be ready in half an hour. I will call for you as I go down.
You can be formally presented in the evening. At that time, inspired by
liqueurs and his matchless band of wind instruments, you will agree with
the world that Ægiochus is the most finished God in existence.’
</p>
<p>
‘Now, Ixion, are you ready?’ ‘Even so. What says Jove?’ ‘He smiled, but
said nothing. He was trying on a new robe. By this time he is seated.
Hark! the thunder. Come on!’
</p>
<p>
They entered a cupolaed hall. Seats of ivory and gold were ranged round a
circular table of cedar, inlaid with the campaigns against the Titans, in
silver exquisitely worked, a nuptial present of Vulcan. The service of
gold plate threw all the ideas of the King of Thessaly as to royal
magnificence into the darkest shade. The enormous plateau represented the
constellations. Ixion viewed the Father of Gods and men with great
interest, who, however, did not notice him. He acknowledged the majesty of
that countenance whose nod shook Olympus. Majestically robust and
luxuriantly lusty, his tapering waist was evidently immortal, for it
defied Time, and his splendid auburn curls, parted on his forehead with
celestial precision, descended over cheeks glowing with the purple
radiancy of perpetual manhood.
</p>
<p>
The haughty Juno was seated on his left hand and Ceres on his right. For
the rest of the company there was Neptune, Latona, Minerva, and Apollo,
and when Mercury and Ixion had taken their places, one seat was still
vacant.
</p>
<p>
‘Where is Diana?’ inquired Jupiter, with a frown.
</p>
<p>
‘My sister is hunting,’ said Apollo.
</p>
<p>
‘She is always too late for dinner,’ said Jupiter. ‘No habit is less
Goddess-like.’
</p>
<p>
‘Godlike pursuits cannot be expected to induce Goddess-like manners,’ said
Juno, with a sneer.
</p>
<p>
‘I have no doubt Diana will be here directly,’ said Latona, mildly.
</p>
<p>
Jupiter seemed pacified, and at that instant the absent guest returned.
</p>
<p>
‘Good sport, Di?’ inquired Neptune.
</p>
<p>
‘Very fair, uncle. Mamma,’ continued the sister of Apollo, addressing
herself to Juno, whom she ever thus styled when she wished to conciliate
her, ‘I have brought you a new peacock.’
</p>
<p>
Juno was fond of pets, and was conciliated by the present.
</p>
<p>
‘Bacchus made a great noise about this wine, Mercury,’ said Jupiter,’ but
I think with little cause. What think you?’
</p>
<p>
‘It pleases me, but I am fatigued, and then all wine is agreeable.’
</p>
<p>
‘You have had a long journey,’ replied the Thunderer. ‘Ixion, I am glad to
see you in Heaven.’
</p>
<p>
‘Your Majesty arrived to-day?’ inquired Minerva, to whom the King of
Thessaly sat next.
</p>
<p>
‘Within this hour.’
</p>
<p>
‘You must leave off talking of Time now,’ said Minerva, with a severe
smile. ‘Pray is there anything new in Greece?’
</p>
<p>
‘I have not been at all in society lately.’
</p>
<p>
‘No new edition of Homer? I admire him exceedingly.’
</p>
<p>
‘All about Greece interests me,’ said Apollo, who, although handsome, was
a somewhat melancholy lack-a-daisical looking personage, with his shirt
collar thrown open, and his long curls theatrically arranged. ‘All about
Greece interests me. I always consider Greece my peculiar property. My
best poems were written at Delphi. I travelled in Greece when I was young.
I envy mankind.’
</p>
<p>
‘Indeed!’ said Ixion.
</p>
<p>
‘Yes: they at least can look forward to a termination of the ennui of
existence, but for us Celestials there is no prospect. Say what they like,
immortality is a bore.’
</p>
<p>
‘You eat nothing, Apollo,’ said Ceres.
</p>
<p>
‘Nor drink,’ said Neptune.
</p>
<p>
‘To eat, to drink, what is it but to live; and what is life but death, if
death be that which all men deem it, a thing insufferable, and to be
shunned. I refresh myself now only with soda-water and biscuits. Ganymede,
bring some.’
</p>
<p>
Now, although the <i>cuisine</i> of Olympus was considered perfect, the
forlorn poet had unfortunately fixed upon the only two articles which were
not comprised in its cellar or larder. In Heaven, there was neither
soda-water nor biscuits. A great confusion consequently ensued; but at
length the bard, whose love of fame was only equalled by his horror of
getting fat, consoled himself with a swan stuffed with truffles, and a
bottle of strong Tenedos wine.
</p>
<p>
‘What do you think of Homer?’ inquired Minerva of Apollo. ‘Is he not
delightful?’
</p>
<p>
‘If you think so.’
</p>
<p>
‘Nay, I am desirous of your opinion.’
</p>
<p>
‘Then you should not have given me yours, for your taste is too fine for
me to dare to differ with it.’
</p>
<p>
‘I have suspected, for some time, that you are rather a heretic’
</p>
<p>
‘Why, the truth is,’ replied Apollo, playing with his rings, ‘I do not
think much of Homer. Homer was not esteemed in his own age, and our
contemporaries are generally our best judges. The fact is, there are very
few people who are qualified to decide upon matters of taste. A certain
set, for certain reasons, resolve to cry up a certain writer, and the
great mass soon join in. All is cant. And the present admiration of Homer
is not less so. They say I have borrowed a great deal from him. The truth
is, I never read Homer since I was a child, and I thought of him then what
I think of him now, a writer of some wild irregular power, totally
deficient in taste. Depend upon it, our contemporaries are our best
judges, and his contemporaries decided that Homer was nothing. A great
poet cannot be kept down. Look at my case. Marsyas said of my first volume
that it was pretty good poetry for a God, and in answer I wrote a satire,
and flayed Marsyas alive. But what is poetry, and what is criticism, and
what is life? Air. And what is air? Do you know? I don’t. All is mystery,
and all is gloom, and ever and anon from out the clouds a star breaks
forth, and glitters, and that star is Poetry.’
</p>
<p>
‘Splendid!’ exclaimed Minerva.
</p>
<p>
‘I do not exactly understand you,’ said Neptune.
</p>
<p>
‘Have you heard from Proserpine, lately?’ inquired Jupiter of Ceres.
</p>
<p>
‘Yesterday,’ said the domestic mother. ‘They talk of soon joining us. But
Pluto is at present so busy, owing to the amazing quantity of wars going
on now, that I am almost afraid he will scarcely be able to accompany
her.’
</p>
<p>
Juno exchanged a telegraphic nod with Ceres. The Goddesses rose, and
retired.
</p>
<p>
‘Come, old boy,’ said Jupiter to Ixion, instantly throwing off all his
chivalric majesty, ‘I drink your welcome in a magnum of Maraschino. Damn
your poetry, Apollo, and, Mercury, give us one of your good stories.’
</p>
<p>
‘Well! what do you think of him?’ asked Juno.
</p>
<p>
‘He appears to have a fine mind,’ said Minerva.
</p>
<p>
‘Poh! he has very fine eyes,’ said Juno.
</p>
<p>
‘He seems a very nice, quiet young gentleman,’ said Ceres.
</p>
<p>
‘I have no doubt he is very amiable,’ said Latona.
</p>
<p>
‘He must have felt very strange,’ said Diana.
</p>
<p>
Hercules arrived with his bride Hebe; soon after the Graces dropped in,
the most delightful personages in the world for a <i>soiree</i>, so useful
and ready for anything. Afterwards came a few of the Muses, Thalia,
Melpomene, and Terpsichore, famous for a charade or a proverb. Jupiter
liked to be amused in the evening. Bacchus also came, but finding that the
Gods had not yet left their wine, retired to pay them a visit.
</p>
<p>
Ganymede announced coffee in the saloon of Juno. Jupiter was in superb
good humour. He was amused by his mortal guest. He had condescended to
tell one of his best stories in his best style, about Leda, not too
scandalous, but gay.
</p>
<p>
‘Those were bright days,’ said Neptune.
</p>
<p>
‘We can remember,’ said the Thunderer, with a twinkling eye. ‘These youths
have fallen upon duller times. There are no fine women now. Ixion, I drink
to the health of your wife.’
</p>
<p>
‘With all my heart, and may we never be nearer than we are at present.’
</p>
<p>
‘Good! i’faith; Apollo, your arm. Now for the ladies. La, la, la, la! la,
la, la, la!’
</p>
<p>
The Thunderer entered the saloon of Juno with that bow which no God could
rival; all rose, and the King of Heaven seated himself between Ceres and
Latona. The melancholy Apollo stood apart, and was soon carried off by
Minerva to an assembly at the house of Mnemosyne. Mercury chatted with the
Graces, and Bacchus with Diana. The three Muses favoured the company with
singing, and the Queen of Heaven approached Ixion.
</p>
<p>
‘Does your Majesty dance?’ she haughtily inquired.
</p>
<p>
‘On earth; I have few accomplishments even there, and none in Heaven.’
</p>
<p>
‘You have led a strange life! I have heard of your adventures.’
</p>
<p>
‘A king who has lost his crown may generally gain at least experience.’
</p>
<p>
‘Your courage is firm.’
</p>
<p>
‘I have felt too much to care for much. Yesterday I was a vagabond exposed
to every pitiless storm, and now I am the guest of Jove. While there is
life there is hope, and he who laughs at Destiny will gain Fortune. I
would go through the past again to enjoy the present, and feel that, after
all, I am my wife’s debtor, since, through her conduct, I can gaze upon
you.’
</p>
<p>
‘No great spectacle. If that be all. I wish you better fortune.’
</p>
<p>
‘I desire no greater.’
</p>
<p>
‘You are moderate.’
</p>
<p>
‘I am perhaps more unreasonable than you imagine.’
</p>
<p>
‘Indeed!’
</p>
<p>
Their eyes met; the dark orbs of the Thessalian did not quail before the
flashing vision of the Goddess. Juno grew pale. Juno turned away.
</p>
<p>
<a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2">
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
</p>
<div style="height: 4em;">
<br /><br /><br /><br />
</div>
<h2>
PART II.
</h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
<i>‘Others say it was only a cloud.’</i>
<i>A Mortal Among the Gods.</i>
</pre>
<p>
MERCURY and Ganymede were each lolling on an opposite couch in the
antechamber of Olympus.
</p>
<p>
‘It is wonderful,’ said the son of Maia, yawning. ‘It is incredible,’
rejoined the cupbearer of Jove, stretching his legs.
</p>
<p>
‘A miserable mortal!’ exclaimed the God, elevating his eyebrows.
</p>
<p>
‘A vile Thessalian!’ said the beautiful Phrygian, shrugging his shoulders.
</p>
<p>
‘Not three days back an outcast among his own wretched species!’
</p>
<p>
‘And now commanding everybody in Heaven.’ ‘He shall not command me,
though,’ said Mercury.
</p>
<p>
‘Will he not?’ replied Ganymede. ‘Why, what do you think? only last night;
hark! here he comes.’
</p>
<p>
The companions jumped up from their couches; a light laugh was heard. The
cedar portal was flung open, and Ixion lounged in, habited in a loose
morning robe, and kicking before him one of his slippers. ‘Ah!’ exclaimed
the King of Thessaly, ‘the very fellows I wanted to see! Ganymede, bring
me some nectar; and, Mercury, run and tell Jove that I shall not dine at
home to-day.’
</p>
<p>
The messenger and the page exchanged looks of indignant consternation.
</p>
<p>
‘Well! what are you waiting for?’ continued Ixion, looking round from the
mirror in which he was arranging his locks. The messenger and the page
disappeared.
</p>
<p>
‘So! this is Heaven,’ exclaimed the husband of Dia, flinging himself upon
one of the couches; ‘and a very pleasant place too. These worthy Immortals
required their minds to be opened, and I trust I have effectually
performed the necessary operation. They wanted to keep me down with their
dull old-fashioned celestial airs, but I fancy I have given them change
for their talent. To make your way in Heaven you must command. These
exclusives sink under the audacious invention of an aspiring mind. Jove
himself is really a fine old fellow, with some notions too. I am a prime
favourite, and no one is greater authority with Ægiochus on all subjects,
from the character of the fair sex or the pedigree of a courser, down to
the cut of a robe or the flavour of a dish. Thanks, Ganymede,’ continued
the Thessalian, as he took the goblet from his returning attendant.
</p>
<p>
‘I drink to your <i>bonnes fortunes</i>. Splendid! This nectar makes me
feel quite immortal. By-the-bye, I hear sweet sounds. Who is in the Hall
of Music?’
</p>
<p>
‘The Goddesses, royal sir, practise a new air of Euterpe, the words by
Apollo. ‘Tis pretty, and will doubtless be very popular, for it is all
about moonlight and the misery of existence.’
</p>
<p>
‘I warrant it.’
</p>
<p>
‘You have a taste for poetry yourself?’ inquired Ganymede.
</p>
<p>
‘Not the least,’ replied Ixion.
</p>
<p>
‘Apollo,’ continued the heavenly page, ‘is a great genius, though Marsyas
said that he never would be a poet because he was a God, and had no heart.
But do you think, sir, that a poet does indeed need a heart?’
</p>
<p>
‘I really cannot say. I know my wife always said I had a bad heart and
worse head; but what she meant, upon my honour I never could understand.’
</p>
<p>
‘Minerva will ask you to write in her album.’
</p>
<p>
‘Will she indeed! I am sorry to hear it, for I can scarcely scrawl my
signature. I should think that Jove himself cared little for all this
nonsense.’
</p>
<p>
‘Jove loves an epigram. He does not esteem Apollo’s works at all. Jove is
of the classical school, and admires satire, provided there be no
allusions to Gods and kings.’
</p>
<p>
‘Of course; I quite agree with him. I remember we had a confounded poet at
Larissa who proved my family lived before the deluge, and asked me for a
pension. I refused him, and then he wrote an epigram asserting that I
sprang from the veritable stones thrown by Deucalion and Pyrrha at the
re-peopling of the earth, and retained all the properties of my
ancestors.’
</p>
<p>
‘Ha, ha! Hark! there’s a thunderbolt! I must run to Jove.’
</p>
<p>
‘And I will look in on the musicians. This way, I think?’
</p>
<p>
‘Up the ruby staircase, turn to your right, down the amethyst gallery.
Farewell!’
</p>
<p>
‘Good-bye; a lively lad that!’
</p>
<p>
The King of Thessaly entered the Hall of Music with its golden walls and
crystal dome. The Queen of Heaven was reclining in an easy chair, cutting
out peacocks in small sheets of note paper. Minerva was making a pencil
observation on a manuscript copy of the song: Apollo listened with
deference to her laudatory criticisms. Another divine dame, standing by
the side of Euterpe, who was seated by the harp, looked up as Ixion
entered. The wild liquid glance of her soft but radiant countenance
denoted the famed Goddess of Beauty.
</p>
<p>
Juno just acknowledged the entrance of Ixion by a slight and haughty
inclination of the head, and then resumed her employment. Minerva asked
him his opinion of her amendment, of which he greatly approved. Apollo
greeted him with a melancholy smile, and congratulated him on being
mortal. Venus complimented him on his visit to Olympus, and expressed the
pleasure that she experienced in making his acquaintance.
</p>
<p>
‘What do you think of Heaven?’ inquired Venus, in a soft still voice, and
with a smile like summer lightning.
</p>
<p>
‘I never found it so enchanting as at this moment,’ replied Ixion.
</p>
<p>
‘A little dull? For myself, I pass my time chiefly at Cnidos: you must
come and visit me there. ‘Tis the most charming place in the world. ‘Tis
said, you know, that our onions are like other people’s roses. We will
take care of you, if your wife come.’
</p>
<p>
‘No fear of that. She always remains at home and piques herself on her
domestic virtues, which means pickling, and quarrelling with her husband.’
</p>
<p>
‘Ah! I see you are a droll. Very good indeed. Well, for my part, I like a
watering-place existence. Cnidos, Paphos, Cythera; you will usually find
me at one of these places. I like the easy distraction of a career without
any visible result. At these fascinating spots your gloomy race, to whom,
by-the-bye, I am exceedingly partial, appear emancipated from the wearing
fetters of their regular, dull, orderly, methodical, moral, political,
toiling existence. I pride myself upon being the Goddess of
watering-places. You really must pay me a visit at Cnidos.’
</p>
<p>
‘Such an invitation requires no repetition. And Cnidos is your favourite
spot?’
</p>
<p>
‘Why, it was so; but of late it has become so inundated with invalid
Asiatics and valetudinarian Persians, that the simultaneous influx of the
handsome heroes who swarm in from the islands to look after their
daughters, scarcely compensates for the annoying presence of their yellow
faces and shaking limbs. No, I think, on the whole, Paphos is my
favourite.’
</p>
<p>
‘I have heard of its magnificent luxury.’
</p>
<p>
‘Oh! ‘tis lovely! Quite my idea of country life. Not a single tree! When
Cyprus is very hot, you run to Paphos for a sea-breeze, and are sure to
meet every one whose presence is in the least desirable. All the bores
remain behind, as if by instinct.’
</p>
<p>
‘I remember when we married, we talked of passing the honeymoon at
Cythera, but Dia would have her waiting-maid and a bandbox stuffed between
us in the chariot, so I got sulky after the first stage, and returned by
myself.’
</p>
<p>
‘You were quite right. I hate bandboxes: they are always in the way. You
would have liked Cythera if you had been in the least in love. High rocks
and green knolls, bowery woods, winding walks, and delicious sunsets. I
have not been there much of late,’ continued the Goddess, looking somewhat
sad and serious, ‘since—but I will not talk sentiment to Ixion.’
</p>
<p>
‘Do you think, then, I am insensible?’
</p>
<p>
‘Yes.’
</p>
<p>
‘Perhaps you are right. We mortals grow callous.’
</p>
<p>
‘So I have heard. How very odd!’ So saying, the Goddess glided away and
saluted Mars, who at that moment entered the hall. Ixion was presented to
the military hero, who looked fierce and bowed stiffly. The King of
Thessaly turned upon his heel. Minerva opened her album, and invited him
to inscribe a stanza.
</p>
<p>
‘Goddess of Wisdom,’ replied the King, ‘unless you inspire me, the virgin
page must remain pure as thyself. I can scarcely sign a decree.’
</p>
<p>
‘Is it Ixion of Thessaly who says this; one who has seen so much, and, if
I am not mistaken, has felt and thought so much? I can easily conceive why
such a mind may desire to veil its movements from the common herd, but
pray concede to Minerva the gratifying compliment of assuring her that she
is the exception for whom this rule has been established.’
</p>
<p>
‘I seem to listen to the inspired music of an oracle. Give me a pen!
</p>
<p>
‘Here is one, plucked from a sacred owl.’ ‘So! I write. There! Will it
do?’ Minerva read the inscription:—
</p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
<i>I HAVE SEEN THE WORLD, AND MORE THAN THE WORLD:
I HAVE STUDIED THE HEART OF MAN,
AND NOW I CONSORT WITH IMMORTALS.
THE FRUIT OF MY TREE OF KNOWLEDGE IS PLUCKED,
AND IT IS THIS,
‘Adventures are to the Adventurous.’
Written in the Album of Minerva, by
Ixion in Heaven.</i>
</pre>
<p>
‘’Tis brief,’ said the Goddess, with a musing air, ‘but full of meaning.
You have a daring soul and pregnant mind.’
</p>
<p>
‘I have dared much: what I may produce we have yet to see.’
</p>
<p>
‘I must to Jove,’ said Minerva, ‘to council. We shall meet again.
Farewell, Ixion.’
</p>
<p>
‘Farewell, Glaucopis.’
</p>
<p>
The King of Thessaly stood away from the remaining guests, and leant with
folded arms and pensive brow against a wreathed column. Mars listened to
Venus with an air of deep devotion. Euterpe played an inspiring
accompaniment to their conversation. The Queen of Heaven seemed engrossed
in the creation of her paper peacocks.
</p>
<p>
Ixion advanced and seated himself on a couch near Juno. His manner was
divested of that reckless bearing and careless coolness by which it was in
general distinguished. He was, perhaps, even a little embarrassed. His
ready tongue deserted him. At length he spoke.
</p>
<p>
‘Has your Majesty ever heard of the peacock of the Queen of Mesopotamia?’
</p>
<p>
‘No,’ replied Juno, with stately reserve; and then she added with an air
of indifferent curiosity, ‘Is it in any way remarkable?’
</p>
<p>
‘Its breast is of silver, its wings of gold, its eyes of carbuncle, its
claws of amethyst.’
</p>
<p>
‘And its tail?’ eagerly inquired Juno.
</p>
<p>
‘That is a secret,’ replied Ixion. ‘The tail is the most wonderful part of
all.’
</p>
<p>
‘Oh! tell me, pray tell me!’
</p>
<p>
‘I forget.’
</p>
<p>
‘No, no, no; it is impossible!’ exclaimed the animated Juno. ‘Provoking
mortal!’ continued the Goddess. ‘Let me entreat you; tell me immediately.’
</p>
<p>
‘There is a reason which prevents me.’
</p>
<p>
‘What can it be? How very odd! What reason can it possibly be? Now tell
me; as a particular, a personal favour, I request you, do tell me.’
</p>
<p>
‘What! The tail or the reason? The tail is wonderful, but the reason is
much more so. I can only tell one. Now choose.’
</p>
<p>
‘What provoking things these human beings are! The tail is wonderful, but
the reason is much more so. Well then, the reason; no, the tail. Stop,
now, as a particular favour, pray tell me both. What can the tail be made
of and what can the reason be? I am literally dying of curiosity.’
</p>
<p>
‘Your Majesty has cut out that peacock wrong,’ remarked Ixion. ‘It is more
like one of Minerva’s owls.’
</p>
<p>
‘Who cares about paper peacocks, when the Queen of Mesopotamia has got
such a miracle!’ exclaimed Juno; and she tore the labours of the morning
to pieces, and threw away the fragments with vexation. ‘Now tell me
instantly; if you have the slightest regard for me, tell me instantly.
What was the tail made of?’
</p>
<p>
‘And you do not wish to hear the reason?’
</p>
<p>
‘That afterwards. Now! I am all ears.’ At this moment Ganymede entered,
and whispered the Goddess, who rose in evident vexation, and retired to
the presence of Jove.
</p>
<p>
The King of Thessaly quitted the Hall of Music. Moody, yet not
uninfluenced by a degree of wild excitement, he wandered forth into the
gardens of Olympus. He came to a beautiful green retreat surrounded by
enormous cedars, so vast that it seemed they must have been coeval with
the creation; so fresh and brilliant, you would have deemed them wet with
the dew of their first spring. The turf, softer than down, and exhaling,
as you pressed it, an exquisite perfume, invited him to recline himself
upon this natural couch. He threw himself upon the aromatic herbage, and
leaning on his arm, fell into a deep reverie.
</p>
<p>
Hours flew away; the sunshiny glades that opened in the distance had
softened into shade.
</p>
<p>
‘Ixion, how do you do?’ inquired a voice, wild, sweet, and thrilling as a
bird. The King of Thessaly started and looked up with the distracted air
of a man roused from a dream, or from complacent meditation over some
strange, sweet secret. His cheek was flushed, his dark eyes flashed fire;
his brow trembled, his dishevelled hair played in the fitful breeze. The
King of Thessaly looked up, and beheld a most beautiful youth.
</p>
<p>
Apparently, he had attained about the age of puberty. His stature,
however, was rather tall for his age, but exquisitely moulded and
proportioned. Very fair, his somewhat round cheeks were tinted with a rich
but delicate glow, like the rose of twilight, and lighted by dimples that
twinkled like stars. His large and deep-blue eyes sparkled with
exultation, and an air of ill-suppressed mockery quivered round his
pouting lips. His light auburn hair, braided off his white forehead,
clustered in massy curls on each side of his face, and fell in sunny
torrents down his neck. And from the back of the beautiful youth there
fluttered forth two wings, the tremulous plumage of which seemed to have
been bathed in a sunset: so various, so radiant, and so novel were its
shifting and wondrous tints; purple, and crimson, and gold; streaks of
azure, dashes of orange and glossy black; now a single feather, whiter
than light, and sparkling like the frost, stars of emerald and carbuncle,
and then the prismatic blaze of an enormous brilliant! A quiver hung at
the side of the beautiful youth, and he leant upon a bow.
</p>
<p>
‘Oh! God, for God thou must be!’ at length exclaimed Ixion. ‘Do I behold
the bright divinity of Love?’
</p>
<p>
‘I am indeed Cupid,’ replied the youth; ‘and am curious to know what Ixion
is thinking about.’ ‘Thought is often bolder than speech.’ ‘Oracular,
though a mortal! You need not be afraid to trust me. My aid I am sure you
must need. Who ever was found in a reverie on the green turf, under the
shade of spreading trees, without requiring the assistance of Cupid? Come!
be frank, who is the heroine? Some love-sick nymph deserted on the far
earth; or worse, some treacherous mistress, whose frailty is more easily
forgotten than her charms? ‘Tis a miserable situation, no doubt. It cannot
be your wife?’
</p>
<p>
‘Assuredly not,’ replied Ixion, with energy.
</p>
<p>
‘Another man’s?’
</p>
<p>
‘No.’
</p>
<p>
‘What! an obdurate maiden?’
</p>
<p>
Ixion shook his head.
</p>
<p>
‘It must be a widow, then,’ continued Cupid. ‘Who ever heard before of
such a piece of work about a widow!’
</p>
<p>
‘Have pity upon me, dread Cupid!’ exclaimed the King of Thessaly, rising
suddenly from the ground, and falling on his knee before the God. ‘Thou
art the universal friend of man, and all nations alike throw their incense
on thy altars. Thy divine discrimination has not deceived thee. I <i>am</i>
in love; desperately, madly, fatally enamoured. The object of my passion
is neither my own wife nor another man’s. In spite of all they have said
and sworn, I am a moral member of society. She is neither a maid nor a
widow. She is———’
</p>
<p>
‘What? what?’ exclaimed the impatient deity.
</p>
<p>
‘A Goddess!’ replied the King.
</p>
<p>
‘Wheugh!’ whistled Cupid. ‘What! has my mischievous mother been indulging
you with an innocent flirtation?’
</p>
<p>
‘Yes; but it produced no effect upon me.’
</p>
<p>
‘You have a stout heart, then. Perhaps you have been reading poetry with
Minerva, and are caught in one of her Platonic man-traps.’
</p>
<p>
‘She set one, but I broke away.’
</p>
<p>
‘You have a stout leg, then. But where are you, where are you? Is it Hebe?
It can hardly be Diana, she is so cold. Is it a Muse, or is it one of the
Graces?’
</p>
<p>
Ixion again shook his head.
</p>
<p>
‘Come, my dear fellow,’ said Cupid, quite in a confidential tone, ‘you
have told enough to make further reserve mere affectation. Ease your heart
at once, and if I can assist you, depend upon my exertions.’
</p>
<p>
‘Beneficent God!’ exclaimed Ixion, ‘if I ever return to Larissa, the
brightest temple in Greece shall hail thee for its inspiring deity. I
address thee with all the confiding frankness of a devoted votary. Know,
then, the heroine of my reverie was no less a personage than the Queen of
Heaven herself!’
</p>
<p>
‘Juno! by all that is sacred!’ shouted Cupid. ‘I am here,’ responded a
voice of majestic melody. The stately form of the Queen of Heaven advanced
from a neighbouring bower. Ixion stood with his eyes fixed upon the
ground, with a throbbing heart and burning cheeks. Juno stood motionless,
pale, and astounded. The God of Love burst into excessive laughter.
</p>
<p>
<br />
</p>
<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
<img alt="ixion_page028 (102K)" src="images/ixion_page028.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
</div>
<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
<img alt="ixion_page028_label (12K)" src="images/ixion_page028_label.jpg"
width="100%" /><br />
</div>
<p>
<br />
</p>
<p>
‘A pretty pair!’ he exclaimed, fluttering between both, and laughing in
their faces. ‘Truly a pretty pair! Well! I see I am in your way.
Good-bye!’ And so saying, the God pulled a couple of arrows from his
quiver, and with the rapidity of lightning shot one in the respective
breasts of the Queen of Heaven and the King of Thessaly.
</p>
<p>
The amethystine twilight of Olympus died away. The stars blazed with tints
of every hue. Ixion and Juno returned to the palace. She leant upon his
arm; her eyes were fixed upon the ground; they were in sight of the
gorgeous pile, and yet she had not spoken. Ixion, too, was silent, and
gazed with abstraction upon the glowing sky.
</p>
<p>
Suddenly, when within a hundred yards of the portal, Juno stopped, and
looking up into the face of Ixion with an irresistible smile, she said, ‘I
am sure you cannot now refuse to tell me what the Queen of Mesopotamia’s
peacock’s tail was made of!’
</p>
<p>
‘It is impossible now,’ said Ixion. ‘Know, then, beautiful Goddess, that
the tail of the Queen of Mesopotamia’s peacock was made of some plumage
she had stolen from the wings of Cupid.’
</p>
<p>
‘And what was the reason that prevented you from telling me before?’
</p>
<p>
‘Because, beautiful Juno, I am the most discreet of men, and respect the
secret of a lady, however trifling.’
</p>
<p>
‘I am glad to hear that,’ replied Juno, and they re-entered the palace.
</p>
<p>
Mercury met Juno and Ixion in the gallery leading to the grand banqueting
hall.
</p>
<p>
‘I was looking for you,’ said the God, shaking his head. ‘Jove is in a
sublime rage. Dinner has been ready this hour.’
</p>
<p>
The King of Thessaly and the Queen of Heaven exchanged a glance and
entered the saloon. Jove looked up with a brow of thunder, but did not
condescend to send forth a single flash of anger. Jove looked up and Jove
looked down. All Olympus trembled as the Father of Gods and men resumed
his soup. The rest of the guests seemed nervous and reserved, except
Cupid, who said immediately to Juno, ‘Your Majesty has been detained?’
</p>
<p>
‘I fell asleep in a bower reading Apollo’s last poem,’ replied Juno. ‘I am
lucky, however, in finding a companion in my negligence. Ixion, where have
you been?’
</p>
<p>
‘Take a glass of nectar, Juno,’ said Cupid, with eyes twinkling with
mischief; ‘and perhaps Ixion will join us.’
</p>
<p>
This was the most solemn banquet ever celebrated in Olympus. Everyone
seemed out of humour or out of spirits. Jupiter spoke only in
monosyllables of suppressed rage, that sounded like distant thunder.
Apollo whispered to Minerva. Mercury never opened his lips, but
occasionally exchanged significant glances with Ganymede. Mars
compensated, by his attentions to Venus, for his want of conversation.
Cupid employed himself in asking disagreeable questions. At length the
Goddesses retired. Mercury exerted himself to amuse Jove, but the
Thunderer scarcely deigned to smile at his best stories. Mars picked his
teeth, Apollo played with his rings, Ixion was buried in a profound
reverie.
</p>
<p>
It was a great relief to all when Ganymede summoned them to the presence
of their late companions.
</p>
<p>
‘I have written a comment upon your inscription,’ said Minerva to Ixion,
‘and am anxious for your opinion of it.’
</p>
<p>
‘I am a wretched critic,’ said the King, breaking away from her. Juno
smiled upon him in the distance.
</p>
<p>
‘Ixion,’ said Venus, as he passed by, ‘come and talk to me.’
</p>
<p>
The bold Thessalian blushed, he stammered out an unmeaning excuse, he
quitted the astonished but good-natured Goddess, and seated himself by
Juno, and as he seated himself his moody brow seemed suddenly illumined
with brilliant light.
</p>
<p>
‘Is it so?’ said Venus.
</p>
<p>
‘Hem!’ said Minerva.
</p>
<p>
‘Ha, ha!’ said Cupid.
</p>
<p>
Jupiter played piquette with Mercury.
</p>
<p>
‘Everything goes wrong to-day,’ said the King of Heaven; ‘cards wretched,
and kept waiting for dinner, and by——-a mortal!’
</p>
<p>
‘Your Majesty must not be surprised,’ said the good-natured Mercury, with
whom Ixion was no favourite. ‘Your Majesty must not be very much surprised
at the conduct of this creature. Considering what he is, and where he is,
I am only astonished that his head is not more turned than it appears to
be. A man, a thing made of mud, and in Heaven! Only think, sire! Is it not
enough to inflame the brain of any child of clay? To be sure, keeping your
Majesty from dinner is little short of celestial high treason. I hardly
expected that, indeed. To order me about, to treat Ganymede as his own
lacquey, and, in short, to command the whole household; all this might be
expected from such a person in such a situation, but I confess I did think
he had some little respect left for your Majesty.’
</p>
<p>
‘And he does order you about, eh?’ inquired Jove. ‘I have the spades.’
</p>
<p>
‘Oh! ‘tis quite ludicrous,’ responded the son of Maia. ‘Your Majesty would
not expect from me the offices that this upstart daily requires.’
</p>
<p>
‘Eternal destiny! is’t possible? That is my trick. And Ganymede, too?’
</p>
<p>
‘Oh! quite shocking, I assure you, sire,’ said the beautiful cupbearer,
leaning over the chair of Jove with all the easy insolence of a privileged
favourite. ‘Really, sire, if Ixion is to go on in the way he does, either
he or I must quit.’
</p>
<p>
‘Is it possible?’ exclaimed Jupiter. ‘But I can believe anything of a man
who keeps me waiting for dinner. Two and three make five.’
</p>
<p>
‘It is Juno that encourages him so,’ said Ganymede.
</p>
<p>
‘Does she encourage him?’ inquired Jove.
</p>
<p>
‘Everybody notices it,’ protested Ganymede.
</p>
<p>
‘It is indeed a little noticed,’ observed Mercury.
</p>
<p>
‘What business has such a fellow to speak to Juno?’ exclaimed Jove. ‘A
mere mortal, a mere miserable mortal! You have the point. How I have been
deceived in this fellow! Who ever could have supposed that, after all my
generosity to him, he would ever have kept me waiting for dinner?’
</p>
<p>
‘He was walking with Juno,’ said Ganymede. ‘It was all a sham about their
having met by accident. Cupid saw them.’
</p>
<p>
‘Ha!’ said Jupiter, turning pale; ‘you don’t say so! Repiqued, as I am a
God. That is mine. Where is the Queen?’
</p>
<p>
‘Talking to Ixion, sire,’ said Mercury. ‘Oh, I beg your pardon, sire; I
did not know you meant the queen of diamonds.’
</p>
<p>
‘Never mind. I am repiqued, and I have been kept waiting for dinner.
Accursed be this day! Is Ixion really talking to Juno? We will not endure
this.’
</p>
<p>
‘Where is Juno?’ demanded Jupiter.
</p>
<p>
‘I am sure I cannot say,’ said Venus, with a smile.
</p>
<p>
‘I am sure I do not know,’ said Minerva, with a sneer.
</p>
<p>
‘Where is Ixion?’ said Cupid, laughing outright.
</p>
<p>
‘Mercury, Ganymede, find the Queen of Heaven instantly,’ thundered the
Father of Gods and men.
</p>
<p>
The celestial messenger and the heavenly page flew away out of different
doors. There was a terrible, an immortal silence. Sublime rage lowered on
the brow of Jove like a storm upon the mountain-top. Minerva seated
herself at the card-table and played at Patience. Venus and Cupid tittered
in the background. Shortly returned the envoys, Mercury looking solemn,
Ganymede malignant.
</p>
<p>
‘Well?’ inquired Jove; and all Olympus trembled at the monosyllable.
</p>
<p>
Mercury shook his head.
</p>
<p>
‘Her Majesty has been walking on the terrace with the King of Thessaly,’
replied Ganymede.
</p>
<p>
‘Where is she now, sir?’ demanded Jupiter.
</p>
<p>
Mercury shrugged his shoulders.
</p>
<p>
‘Her Majesty is resting herself in the pavilion of Cupid, with the King of
Thessaly,’ replied Ganymede.
</p>
<p>
‘Confusion!’ exclaimed the Father of Gods and men; and he rose and seized
a candle from the table, scattering the cards in all directions. Every one
present, Minerva and Venus, and Mars and Apollo, and Mercury and Ganymede,
and the Muses, and the Graces, and all the winged genii—each seized
a candle; rifling the chandeliers, each followed Jove.
</p>
<p>
‘This way,’ said Mercury.
</p>
<p>
‘This way,’ said Ganymede.
</p>
<p>
‘This way, this way!’ echoed the celestial crowd.
</p>
<p>
‘Mischief!’ cried Cupid; ‘I must save my victims.’
</p>
<p>
They were all upon the terrace. The Father of Gods and men, though both in
a passion and a hurry, moved with dignity. It was, as customary in Heaven,
a clear and starry night; but this eve Diana was indisposed, or otherwise
engaged, and there was no moonlight. They were in sight of the pavilion.
</p>
<p>
‘What are you?’ inquired Cupid of one of the genii, who accidentally
extinguished his candle.
</p>
<p>
‘I am a cloud,’ answered the winged genius.
</p>
<p>
‘A cloud! Just the thing. Now do me a shrewd turn, and Cupid is ever your
debtor. Fly, fly, pretty cloud, and encompass yon pavilion with your form.
Away! ask no questions; swift as my word.’
</p>
<p>
‘I declare there is a fog,’ said Venus.
</p>
<p>
‘An evening mist in Heaven!’ said Minerva.
</p>
<p>
‘Where is Nox?’ said Jove. ‘Everything goes wrong. Who ever heard of a
mist in Heaven?’
</p>
<p>
‘My candle is out,’ said Apollo.
</p>
<p>
‘And mine, too,’ said Mars.
</p>
<p>
‘And mine, and mine, and mine,’ said Mercury and Ganymede, and the Muses
and the Graces.
</p>
<p>
‘All the candles are out!’ said Cupid; ‘a regular fog. I cannot even see
the pavilion: it must be hereabouts, though,’ said the God to himself.
‘So, so; I should be at home in my own pavilion, and am tolerably
accustomed to stealing about in the dark. There is a step; and here,
surely, is the lock. The door opens, but the cloud enters before me. Juno,
Juno,’ whispered the God of Love, ‘we are all here. Be contented to
escape, like many other innocent dames, with your reputation only under a
cloud: it will soon disperse; and lo! the heaven is clearing.’
</p>
<p>
‘It must have been the heat of our flambeaux,’ said Venus; ‘for see, the
mist is vanished; here is the pavilion.’
</p>
<p>
Ganymede ran forward, and dashed open the door. Ixion was alone.
</p>
<p>
‘Seize him!’ said Jove.
</p>
<p>
‘Juno is not here,’ said Mercury, with an air of blended congratulation
and disappointment.
</p>
<p>
‘Never mind,’ said Jove; ‘seize him! He kept me waiting for dinner.’
</p>
<p>
‘Is this your hospitality, Ægiochus?’ exclaimed Ixion, in a tone of
bullying innocence. ‘I shall defend myself.’
</p>
<p>
‘Seize him, seize him!’ exclaimed Jupiter. ‘What! do you all falter? Are
you afraid of a mortal?’
</p>
<p>
‘And a Thessalian?’ added Ganymede.
</p>
<p>
No one advanced.
</p>
<p>
‘Send for Hercules,’ said Jove.
</p>
<p>
‘I will fetch him in an instant,’ said Ganymede.
</p>
<p>
‘I protest,’ said the King of Thessaly, ‘against this violation of the
most sacred rights.’
</p>
<p>
‘The marriage tie?’ said Mercury.
</p>
<p>
‘The dinner-hour?’ said Jove.
</p>
<p>
‘It is no use talking sentiment to Ixion,’ said Venus; ‘all mortals are
callous.’
</p>
<p>
‘Adventures are to the adventurous,’ said Minerva.
</p>
<p>
‘Here is Hercules! here is Hercules!’
</p>
<p>
‘Seize him!’ said Jove; ‘seize that man.’
</p>
<p>
In vain the mortal struggled with the irresistible demigod.
</p>
<p>
‘Shall I fetch your thunderbolt, Jove?’ inquired Ganymede.
</p>
<p>
‘Anything short of eternal punishment is unworthy of a God,’ answered
Jupiter, with great dignity. ‘Apollo, bring me a wheel of your chariot.’
</p>
<p>
‘What shall I do to-morrow morning?’ inquired the God of Light.
</p>
<p>
‘Order an eclipse,’ replied Jove. ‘Bind the insolent wretch to the wheel;
hurl him to Hades; its motion shall be perpetual.’
</p>
<p>
‘What am I to bind him with?’ inquired Hercules.
</p>
<p>
‘The girdle of Venus,’ replied the Thunderer.
</p>
<p>
‘What is all this?’ inquired Juno, advancing, pale and agitated.
</p>
<p>
‘Come along; you shall see,’ answered Jupiter. ‘Follow me, follow me.’
</p>
<p>
They all followed the leader, all the Gods, all the genii; in the midst,
the brawny husband of Hebe bearing Ixion aloft, bound to the fatal wheel.
They reached the terrace; they descended the sparkling steps of
lapis-lazuli. Hercules held his burthen on high, ready, at a nod, to
plunge the hapless but presumptuous mortal through space into Hades. The
heavenly group surrounded him, and peeped over the starry abyss. It was a
fine moral, and demonstrated the usual infelicity that attends unequal
connection.
</p>
<p>
‘Celestial despot!’ said Ixion.
</p>
<p>
In a moment all sounds were hushed, as they listened to the last words of
the unrivalled victim. Juno, in despair, leant upon the respective arms of
Venus and Minerva.
</p>
<p>
‘Celestial despot!’ said Ixion, ‘I defy the immortal ingenuity of thy
cruelty. My memory must be as eternal as thy torture: that will support
me.’
</p>
<p>
<br /> <br />
</p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
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