‘Where is Ixion?’ said Cupid, laughing outright.
‘Mercury, Ganymede, find the Queen of Heaven instantly,’ thundered the Father of Gods and men.
The celestial messenger and the heavenly page flew away out of different doors. There was a terrible, an immortal silence. Sublime rage lowered on the brow of Jove like a storm upon the mountain-top. Minerva seated herself at the card-table and played at Patience. Venus and Cupid tittered in the background. Shortly returned the envoys, Mercury looking solemn, Ganymede malignant.
‘Well?’ inquired Jove; and all Olympus trembled at the monosyllable.
Mercury shook his head.
‘Her Majesty has been walking on the terrace with the King of Thessaly,’ replied Ganymede.
‘Where is she now, sir?’ demanded Jupiter.
Mercury shrugged his shoulders.
‘Her Majesty is resting herself in the pavilion of Cupid, with the King of Thessaly,’ replied Ganymede.
‘Confusion!’ exclaimed the Father of Gods and men; and he rose and seized a candle from the table, scattering the cards in all directions. Every one present, Minerva and Venus, and Mars and Apollo, and Mercury and Ganymede, and the Muses, and the Graces, and all the winged genii—each seized a candle; rifling the chandeliers, each followed Jove.