That royal Midas has got asses’ ears. Oh! how my soul’s relieved! I feel so light! Although you cannot thank me for my trust, Dear, faithful reeds, I love you tenderly; Mute friends, ye helped me in my greatest need. Farewel! I know ye will be still as death; Nor tell the passing winds or running waves (_stoops and whispers_) That royal Midas has got asses’ ears. (sees Bacchus, starts up in fear, & stands behind watching.) Enter Bacchus. BACCHUS. I have wandered many hours through the paths And wildernesses of that ilex wood, Tracing where’er I went my tipsey friend By the red juice of grapes that stained the ground, And by the curling branches of the vines That, springing where he trod, have curled around The knotty trunks of those eternal trees. I too have lost my way; nor can I tell To what barbarian land the wanderer’s come. I hope no power contemptuous of mine Has hurt my foster-father;—Who comes here? ’Tis he surrounded by a jocund throng Of priests and bacchant women, bearing spears Blunted with pine cones & with ivy wreathed, And here and there they cry, “Bacchus! Evoe!” As if the Nysian impulse just began. And who is he who with a stately crown Outshines the rest? He seems to be a king; But were he even an ass on his hind legs He shall have rich reward if he have saved And welcomed with due honour my old faun. (Enter Midas, Silenus & others, who fall back during the scene; Midas is always anxious about his crown, & Zopyrion gets behind him & tries to smother his laughter.) SILENUS. (_very drunk_) Again I find you, Bacchus, runaway! Welcome, my glorious boy! Another time Stray not; or leave your poor old foster-father In the wild mazes of a wood, in which I might have wandered many hundred years, Had not some merry fellows helped me out, And had not this king kindly welcomed me, I might have fared more ill than you erewhile In Pentheus’ prisons, that death fated rogue. BACCHUS. (_to Midas._) To you I owe great thanks & will reward Your hospitality. Tell me your name And what this country is. MIDAS. My name is Midas— THE REEDS. (_nodding their heads_). Midas, the king, has the ears of an ass. MIDAS. (_turning round & seizing Zopyrion_). Villain, you lie! he dies who shall repeat Those traitrous words. Seize on Zopyrion! THE REEDS. Midas, the king, has the ears of an ass. MIDAS. Search through the crowd; it is a woman’s voice That dares belie her king, & makes her life A forfeit to his fury. ASPHALION. There is no woman here. BACCHUS. Calm yourself, Midas; none believe the tale, Some impious man or gamesome faun dares feign In vile contempt of your most royal ears. Off with your crown, & shew the world the lie! MIDAS. (_holding his crown tight_) Never! What[!] shall a vile calumnious slave Dictate the actions of a crowned king? Zopyrion, this lie springs from you—you perish!