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.
‘What do you think of Heaven?’ inquired Venus, in a soft still voice, and with a smile like summer lightning.
‘I never found it so enchanting as at this moment,’ replied Ixion.
‘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.’
‘No fear of that. She always remains at home and piques herself on her domestic virtues, which means pickling, and quarrelling with her husband.’
‘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.’
‘Such an invitation requires no repetition. And Cnidos is your favourite spot?’
‘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.’
‘I have heard of its magnificent luxury.’
‘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.’