Farewel!
I found you rich & happy; & I leave you,
Though you know it not, miserably poor.
Your boon is granted,--touch! make gold! Some here
Help carry old Silenus off, who sleeps
The divine sleep of heavy wine. Farewel!
_Mid._ Bacchus, divine, how shall I pay my thanks[?]
(_Exeunt._)
END OF FIRST ACT.
ACT II.
_Scene; a splendid apartment in the Palace of Midas._
_Enter Midas
(with a golden rose in his hand)._
_Mid._ Gold! glorious gold! I am made up of gold!
I pluck a rose, a silly, fading rose,
Its soft, pink petals change to yellow gold;
Its stem, its leaves are gold--and what before
Was fit for a poor peasant's festal dress
May now adorn a Queen. I lift a stone,
A heavy, useless mass, a slave would spurn,
What is more valueless? 'Tis solid gold!
A king might war on me to win the same.
And as I pass my hand thus through the air,
A little shower of sightless dust falls down
A shower of gold. O, now I am a king!
I've spread my hands against my palace walls,
I've set high ladders up, that I may touch
Each crevice and each cornice with my hands,
And it will all be gold:--a golden palace,
Surrounded by a wood of golden trees,
Which will bear golden fruits.--The very ground
My naked foot treads on is yellow gold,
Invaluable gold! my dress is gold! [53]
Now I am great! Innumerable armies
Wait till my gold collects them round my throne;
I see my standard made of woven gold.
Pages:
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78