For what you ask shall be, as I have sworn.

_Mid._ Let all I touch be gold, most glorious gold!
Let me be rich! and where I stretch my hands, [51]
(That like Orion I could touch the stars!)
Be radiant gold! God Bacchus, you have sworn,
I claim your word,--my ears are quite forgot!

_The Reeds._ Midas, the king, has the ears of an ass.

_Mid._ You lie, & yet I care not--

_Zopyr._ (_aside to Midas_) Yet might I
But have advised your Majesty, I would
Have made one God undo the other's work--

_Midas._ (_aside to Zopyr_).
Advise yourself, my friend, or you may grow
Shorter by a head ere night.--I am blessed,
Happier than ever earthly man could boast.
Do you fulfil your words?

_Bac._ Yes, thoughtless man!
And much I fear if you have not the ears
You have the judgement of an ass. 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!