"And its tail?" eagerly inquired Juno.
"That is a secret," replied Ixion. "The tail is the most wonderful part of all."
"Oh! tell me, pray tell me!"
"I forget."
"No, no, no; it is impossible!" exclaimed the animated Juno.
"Provoking mortal!" continued the G.o.ddess. "Let me entreat you; tell me immediately."
"There is a reason which prevents me."
"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."
"What! The tail or the reason? The tail is wonderful, but the reason is much more so. I can only tell one. Now choose."
"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."
"Your Majesty has cut out that peac.o.c.k wrong," remarked Ixion. "It is more like one of Minerva"s owls."
"Who cares about paper peac.o.c.ks, 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?"
"And you do not wish to hear the reason?"
"That afterwards. Now! I am all ears." At this moment Ganymede entered, and whispered the G.o.ddess, who rose in evident vexation, and retired to the presence of Jove.
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.
Hours flew away; the sunshiny glades that opened in the distance had softened into shade.
"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.
Apparently, he had attained about the age of p.u.b.erty. 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, cl.u.s.tered in ma.s.sy 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.
"Oh! G.o.d, for G.o.d thou must be!" at length exclaimed Ixion. "Do I behold the bright divinity of Love?"
"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 a.s.sistance 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?"
"a.s.suredly not," replied Ixion, with energy.
"Another man"s?"
"No."
"What! an obdurate maiden?"
Ixion shook his head.
"It must be a widow, then," continued Cupid. "Who ever heard before of such a piece of work about a widow!"
"Have pity upon me, dread Cupid!" exclaimed the King of Thessaly, rising suddenly from the ground, and falling on his knee before the G.o.d.
"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 _am_ in love; desperately, madly, fatally enamoured. The object of my pa.s.sion 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------"
"What? what?" exclaimed the impatient deity.
"A G.o.ddess!" replied the King.
"Wheugh!" whistled Cupid. "What! has my mischievous mother been indulging you with an innocent flirtation?"
"Yes; but it produced no effect upon me."
"You have a stout heart, then. Perhaps you have been reading poetry with Minerva, and are caught in one of her Platonic man-traps."
"She set one, but I broke away."
"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?"
Ixion again shook his head.
"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 a.s.sist you, depend upon my exertions."
"Beneficent G.o.d!" 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!"
"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 G.o.d of Love burst into excessive laughter.
[Ill.u.s.tration: page28]
"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 G.o.d pulled a couple of arrows from his quiver, and with the rapidity of lightning shot one in the respective b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the Queen of Heaven and the King of Thessaly.
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.
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 peac.o.c.k"s tail was made of!"
"It is impossible now," said Ixion. "Know, then, beautiful G.o.ddess, that the tail of the Queen of Mesopotamia"s peac.o.c.k was made of some plumage she had stolen from the wings of Cupid."
"And what was the reason that prevented you from telling me before?"
"Because, beautiful Juno, I am the most discreet of men, and respect the secret of a lady, however trifling."
"I am glad to hear that," replied Juno, and they re-entered the palace.
Mercury met Juno and Ixion in the gallery leading to the grand banqueting hall.