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Midas though for a while and then he said: I hope that everything I touch becomes gold. Dionyssus warned the king to think well about his wish, but Midas was positive.
Dionyssus could do nothing else and promised the king that from that following day everything he touched would turn into gold.
The next day, Midas, woke up eager to see if his wish would become true. He extended his arm touching a small table that immediately turned into gold.
Midas jumped with happiness! He then touched a chair, the carpet, the door, his bathtub, a table and so he kept on running in his madness all over his palace until he got exhausted and happy at the same time!
He sat at the table to have breakfast and took a rose between his hands to smell its fragrance. When he touched it, the rose became gold.
I will have to absorb the fragrance without touching the roses, I suppose, he thought in disappointment. Without even thinking, he ate a grape but it also turned into gold!
The same happened with a slice of bread and a glass of water. Suddenly, he started to sense fear. Tears filled his eyes and that moment, his beloved daughter entered the room.
When Midas hugged her, she turned into a golden statue! Despaired and fearful, he raised his arms and prayed to Dionyssus to take this curse from him.
The god heard Midas and felt sorry for him. He told Midas to go to river Pactolus and wash his hands. He lay in a very disconsolate mood, regretting the downfall of his hopes, and kept growing sadder and sadder, until the earliest sunbeam shone through the window, and gilded the ceiling over his head.
It seemed to Midas that this bright yellow sunbeam was reflected in rather a singular way on the white covering of the bed.
Looking more closely, what was his astonishment and delight, when he found that this linen fabric had been transmuted to what seemed a woven texture of the purest and brightest gold!
The Golden Touch had come to him with the first sunbeam! Midas started up, in a kind of joyful frenzy, and ran about the room, grasping at everything that happened to be in his way.
He seized one of the bed-posts, and it became immediately a fluted golden pillar. He pulled aside a window-curtain, in order to admit a clear spectacle of the wonders which he was performing; and the tassel grew heavy in his hand,—a mass of gold.
He took up a book from the table. At his first touch, it assumed the appearance of such a splendidly bound and gilt-edged volume as one often meets with, nowadays; but, on running his fingers through the leaves, behold!
He hurriedly put on his clothes, and was enraptured to see himself in a magnificent suit of gold cloth, which retained its flexibility and softness, although it burdened him a little with its weight.
He drew out his handkerchief, which little Marygold had hemmed for him. Somehow or other, this last transformation did not quite please King Midas.
But it was not worth while to vex himself about a trifle. Midas now took his spectacles from his pocket, and put them on his nose, in order that he might see more distinctly what he was about.
In those days, spectacles for common people had not been invented, but were already worn by kings; else, how could Midas have had any? To his great perplexity, however, excellent as the glasses were, he discovered that he could not possibly see through them.
But this was the most natural thing in the world; for on taking them off, the transparent crystals turned out to be plates of yellow metal, and, of course, were worthless as spectacles, though valuable as gold.
It struck Midas as rather inconvenient that, with all his wealth, he could never again be rich enough to own a pair of serviceable spectacles.
My own eyes will serve for ordinary purposes, and little Marygold will soon be old enough to read to me.
Wise King Midas was so exalted by his good fortune that the palace seemed not sufficiently spacious to contain him. He therefore went downstairs, and smiled, on observing that the balustrade of the staircase became a bar of burnished gold, as his hand passed over it in his descent.
He lifted the door-latch it was brass only a moment ago, but golden when his fingers quitted it , and emerged into the garden. Here, as it happened, he found a great number of beautiful roses in full bloom, and others in all the stages of lovely bud and blossom.
Very delicious was their fragrance in the morning breeze. Their delicate blush was one of the fairest sights in the world; so gentle, so modest, and so full of sweet tranquillity did these roses seem to be.
But Midas knew a way to make them far more precious, according to his way of thinking, than roses had ever been before.
So he took great pains in going from bush to bush, and exercised his magic touch most indefatigably; until every individual flower and bud, and even the worms at the heart of some of them, were changed to gold.
By the time this good work was completed, King Midas was summoned to breakfast; and as the morning air had given him an excellent appetite, he made haste back to the palace.
To the best of my belief, however, on this particular morning, the breakfast consisted of hot cakes, some nice little brook trout, roasted potatoes, fresh boiled eggs, and coffee, for King Midas himself, and a bowl of bread and milk for his daughter Marygold.
At all events, this is a breakfast fit to set before a king; and, whether he had it or not, King Midas could not have had a better.
Little Marygold had not yet made her appearance. To do Midas justice, he really loved his daughter, and loved her so much the more this morning, on account of the good fortune which had befallen him.
It was not a great while before he heard her coming along the passage-way crying bitterly. Meanwhile, Marygold slowly and disconsolately opened the door, and showed herself with her apron at her eyes, still sobbing as if her heart would break.
Marygold, without taking the apron from her eyes, held out her hand, in which was one of the roses which Midas had so recently transmuted.
As soon as I was dressed I ran into the garden to gather some roses for you; because I know you like them, and like them the better when gathered by your little daughter.
But, oh dear, dear me! What do you think has happened? Such a misfortune! All the beautiful roses, that smelled so sweet and had so many lovely blushes, are blighted and spoilt!
They are grown quite yellow, as you see this one, and have no longer any fragrance! What can have been the matter with them?
You will find it easy enough to exchange a golden rose like that which will last hundreds of years for an ordinary one which would wither in a day.
The child now sat down to table, but was so occupied with her grief for the blighted roses that she did not even notice the wonderful transmutation of her China bowl.
Perhaps this was all the better; for Marygold was accustomed to take pleasure in looking at the queer figures, and strange trees and houses, that were painted on the circumference of the bowl; and these ornaments were now entirely lost in the yellow hue of the metal.
Midas, meanwhile, had poured out a cup of coffee, and, as a matter of course, the coffee-pot, whatever metal it may have been when he took it up, was gold when he set it down.
King Midas would turn even water to gold, so he couldn't drink anything. Natural rose dipped in 24K gold, so it lasts forever, just like your love.
Makes a thoughtful gift for that special someone. King Midas. This is a nice chart of the story of King Midas simplified.
Midas dissented, and questioned the justice of the award. Apollo would not suffer such a depraved pair of ears any longer, and said "Must have ears of an ass!
Midas was mortified at this mishap. He attempted to hide his misfortune under an ample turban or headdress, but his barber of course knew the secret, so was told not to mention it.
However, the barber could not keep the secret. He went out into a meadow, dug a hole in the ground, whispered the story into it, then covered the hole up.
A thick bed of reeds later sprang up from the covered up hole, and began whispering the story, saying "King Midas has an ass's ears".
Sarah Morris demonstrated Morris, that donkeys' ears were a Bronze Age royal attribute, borne by King Tarkasnawa Greek Tarkondemos of Mira , on a seal inscribed in both Hittite cuneiform and Luwian hieroglyphs.
In this connection, the myth would appear for Greeks to justify the exotic attribute. The stories of the contests with Apollo of Pan and Marsyas were very often confused, so Titian 's Flaying of Marsyas includes a figure of Midas who may be a self-portrait , though his ears seem normal.
In pre-Islamic legend of Central Asia, the king of the Ossounes of the Yenisei basin had donkey's ears. He would hide them, and order each of his barbers murdered to hide his secret.
The last barber among his people was counselled to whisper the heavy secret into a well after sundown, but he didn't cover the well afterwards. The well water rose and flooded the kingdom, creating the waters of Lake Issyk-Kul.
According to an Irish legend, the king Labraid Loingsech had horse's ears, something he was concerned to keep quiet. He had his hair cut once a year, and the barber, who was chosen by lot, was immediately put to death.
A widow, hearing that her only son had been chosen to cut the king's hair, begged the king not to kill him, and he agreed, so long as the barber kept his secret.
The burden of the secret was so heavy that the barber fell ill. A druid advised him to go to a crossroads and tell his secret to the first tree he came to, and he would be relieved of his burden and be well again.
He told the secret to a large willow. Soon after this, however, a harper named Craiftine broke his instrument, and made a new one out of the very willow the barber had told his secret to.
Whenever he played it, the harp sang "Labraid Lorc has horse's ears". Labraid repented of all the barbers he had put to death and admitted his secret.
In Ireland, at Loch Ine, West Cork, there is a similar story told of the inhabitant of its island, who had ass's ears.
Anyone engaged to cut this King's hair was then put to death. But the reeds in the form of a musical flute spoke of them and the secret was out.
The myth is also known in Brittany where the king Mark of Cornwall is believed to have ruled the south-western region of Cornouaille.
Chasing a white doe, he loses his best horse Morvarc'h Seahorse when the doe kills it with an arrow thrown by Mark. Trying to kill the doe, he is cursed by Dahut , a magician who lives under the sea.
She gives life to Morvarc'h back but switches his ears and mane with Mark's ears and hair.