Chapter 4

Chapter IV
Midas. Baucis and Philemon. Pluto and Proserpine. Bacchus, on a certain occasion, found his old school master and
foster father, Silenus, missing. The old man had been drinking,
and in that state had wandered away, and was found by some
peasants, who carried him to their king, Midas. Midas recognized
him, and treated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days
and nights with an unceasing round of jollity. On the eleventh
day he brought Silenus back, and restored him in safety to his
pupil. Whereupon Bacchus offered Midas his choice of whatever
reward he might wish. He asked that whatever he might touch
should be changed into GOLD. Bacchus consented, though sorry
that he had not made a better choice. Midas went his way,
rejoicing in his newly acquired power, which he hastened to put
to the test. He could scarce believe his eyes when he found that
a twig of an oak, which he plucked from the branch, became gold
in his hand. He took up a stone it changed to gold. He
touched a sod it did the same. He took an apple from the tree
you would have thought he had robbed the garden of the
Hesperides. His joy knew no bounds, and as soon as he got home,
he ordered the servants to set a splendid repast on the table.
Then he found to his dismay that whether he touched bread, it
hardened in his hand; or put a morsel to his lips, it defied his
teeth. He took a glass of wine, but it flowed down his throat
like melted gold. In consternation at the unprecedented affliction, he strove to
divest himself of his power; he hated the gift he had lately
coveted. But all in vain; starvation seemed to await him. He
raised his arms, all shining with gold, in prayer to Bacchus,
begging to be delivered from his glittering destruction.
Bacchus, merciful deity, heard and consented. "Go," said he, "to
the river Pactolus, trace the stream to its fountain-head, there
plunge in your head and body and wash away your fault and its
punishment." He did so, and scarce had he touched the waters
before the gold-creating power passed into them, and the river
sands became changed into GOLD, as they remain to this day. Thenceforth Midas, hating wealth and splendor, dwelt in the
country, and became a worshipper of Pan, the god of the fields.
On a certain occasion Pan had the temerity to compare his music
with that of Apollo, and to challenge the god of the lyre to a
trial of skill. The challenge was accepted, and Tmolus, the
mountain-god, was chosen umpire. Tmolus took his seat and
cleared away the trees from his ears to listen. At a given
signal Pan blew on his pipes, and with his rustic melody gave
great satisfaction to himself and his faithful follower, Midas,
who happened to be present. Then Tmolus turned his head toward