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‘On earth; I have few accomplishments even there, and none in Heaven.’

‘You have led a strange life! I have heard of your adventures.’

‘A king who has lost his crown may generally gain at least experience.’

‘Your courage is firm.’

‘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.’

‘No great spectacle. If that be all. I wish you better fortune.’

‘I desire no greater.’

‘You are moderate.’

‘I am perhaps more unreasonable than you imagine.’

‘Indeed!’

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.

PART II.

‘Others say it was only a cloud.’

A Mortal Among the Gods.

MERCURY and Ganymede were each lolling on an opposite couch in the antechamber of Olympus.

‘It is wonderful,’ said the son of Maia, yawning. ‘It is incredible,’ rejoined the cupbearer of Jove, stretching his legs.

‘A miserable mortal!’ exclaimed the God, elevating his eyebrows.

‘A vile Thessalian!’ said the beautiful Phrygian, shrugging his shoulders.

‘Not three days back an outcast among his own wretched species!’

‘And now commanding everybody in Heaven.’ ‘He shall not command me, though,’ said Mercury.

‘Will he not?’ replied Ganymede. ‘Why, what do you think? only last night; hark! here he comes.’

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.’

The messenger and the page exchanged looks of indignant consternation.

‘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.

‘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 AEgiochus 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.

‘I drink to your bonnes fortunes. Splendid! This nectar makes me feel quite immortal. By-the-bye, I hear sweet sounds. Who is in the Hall of Music?’

‘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.’

‘I warrant it.’

‘You have a taste for poetry yourself?’ inquired Ganymede.

‘Not the least,’ replied Ixion.

‘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?’

‘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.’