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]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IXION IN HEAVEN ***

Produced by David Widger

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.'_

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