IXION IN HEAVEN

By Benjamin Disraeli



     ADVERTISEMENT     ‘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.‘ 






Contents

IXION IN HEAVEN

PART I.

PART II.






IXION IN HEAVEN





PART I.

     An Errant King

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.

‘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.’

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:—

‘Who art thou that hast no other friend than Jove?’ ‘One whom all mankind unite in calling a wretch.’ ‘Art thou a philosopher?’

‘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.’

‘Ixion of Thessaly! I thought he was a happy man. I heard that he was just married.’

‘Father of Gods and men! for I deem thee such, Thessaly is not Olympus. Conjugal felicity is only the portion of the immortals!’

‘Hem! What! was Dia jealous, which is common; or false, which is commoner; or both, which is commonest?’

‘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 magna

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