Hesioneus held converse with himself, and his people heard the
words which came sadly from his lips. "What would I more?" he said; "I
would have the love of my child. I let her depart, when not the wealth
of Phoebus himself could recompense me for her loss. I bartered her
for gifts, and Ixion withholds the wealth which he sware to give. Yet
were all the riches of his treasure-house lying now before me, one
loving glance from the eyes of Dia would be more than worth them all."

But when his messengers went yet again to plead with Ixion, and their
words were all spoken in vain, Hesioneus resolved to deal craftily,
and he sent his servants by night and stole the undying horses which
bare his gleaming chariot. Then the heart of Ixion was humbled within
him, for he said, "My people look for me daily throughout the wide
earth. If they see not my face their souls will faint with fear; they
will not care to sow their fields, and the golden harvests of Demeter
will wave no more in the summer breeze." So there came messengers
from Ixion, who said, "If thou wouldst have the wealth which thou
seekest, come to the house of Ixion, and the gifts shall be thine, and
thine eyes shall once more look upon thy child." In haste Hesioneus
went forth from his home, like a dark and lonely cloud stealing across
the broad heaven. All night long he sped upon his way, and, as the
light of Eos flushed the eastern sky he saw afar off the form of a
fair woman who beckoned to him with her long white arms. Then the
heart of the old man revived, and he said, "It is Dia, my child. It is
enough if I can but hear her voice and clasp her in mine arms and
die." But his limbs trembled for joy, and he waited until presently
his daughter came and stood beside him. On her face there rested a
softer beauty than in former days, and the sound of her voice was more
tender and loving, as she said, "My father, Zeus has made clear to me
many dark things, for he has given me power to search out the secret
treasures of the earth, and to learn from the wise beings who lurk in
its hidden places the things that shall be hereafter. And now I see
that thy life is well-nigh done, if thou seekest to look upon the
treasures of Ixion, for no man may gaze upon them and live. Go back,
then, to thy home if thou wouldst not die. I would that I might come
with thee, but so it may not be. Each day I must welcome Ixion when
his fiery horses come back from their long journey, and every mo