Mid. Thou art barbarous not valiant.

Gods

must be entreated not commanded: thou wouldst quench fire with a sword, and add to my shame (which is more than any prince can endure) thy rudeness (which is more than any sensible creature would follow). Divine Apollo, what shall become of Midas? Accept this lute, these berries, these simples, these tapers; if Apollo take any delight in music, in Daphne, in physic, in eternity.

THE ORACLE.

When Pan Apollo in music shall excel,
Midas, of Phrygia, shall lose his ass's ears;
Pan did Apollo in music far excel,

Therefore King Midas weareth ass's ears:
Unless he shrink his stretching hand from Lesbos,
His ears in length, at length shall reach to Delphos.

Mel. It were good, to expound these oracles, that the learned men in Phrygia were assembled, otherwise the remedy will be as impossible to be had, as the cause to be sifted.

Mart. I foresaw some old saw which should be doubtful. Who would gad to such gods, that must be honoured if they speak without sense; and the oracle wondered at, as though it were above sense?

Mid. No more, Martius. I am the learnedest in Phrygia to interpret these oracles; and though

his having served Admetus in that ignoble employment, from whence he was styled king of shepherds; " or taking measure of a serpent's skin," possibly to his being god of medicine; or in allusion to the serpent Python, which Apollo slew, and the skin of which formed a covering for the tripod on which the priestess of Apollo sat.

shame hath hitherto caused me to conceal it, now I must unfold it by necessity. Thus destiny bringeth me not only to be cause of all my shame, but reporter. Thou, Sophronia, and you, my lords, hearken: When I had bathed myself in Pactolus, and saw my wish to float in the waves, I wished the waves to overflow my body, so melancholy my fortune made me, so mad my folly yet by hunting I thought to ease my heart; and coming at last to the hill Timolus, I perceived Apollo and Pan contending for excellency in music among nymphs; they required also my judgment. I (whom the loss of gold made discontent, and the possessing desperate (either dulled with the humours of my weak brain, or deceived by thickness of my deaf ears), preferred the harsh noise of Pan's pipe before the sweet stroke of Apollo's lute; which caused Phoebus in justice (as I now confess, and then as I saw in anger) to set these ears on my head, that have wrung so many tears from mine eyes. For, stretching my hands to Lesbos, I find that all the gods have spurned at my practices, and those islands scorned them. pride the gods disdain, my policy men, my mines have been emptied by soldiers, my soldiers spoiled by wars, my wars without success because usurping, my usurping without end because my ambition above measure. I will therefore yield myself to Bacchus, and acknowledge my wish to be vanity; to Apollo, and confess my judgment to be foolish; to Mars, and say my wars are unjust; to Diana, and tell my af fection hath been unnatural: and I doubt not,

My

what a god hath done to make me know myself, all the gods will help to undo, that I may come to myself.

Sop. Is it possible that Midas should be so overshot in judgment? Unhappy Midas, whose wits melt with his gold, and whose gold is consumed with his wits.

Mid. What talketh Sophronia to herself?

Sop. Nothing, but that since Midas hath confessed his fault to us, he also acknowledge it to Apollo.

Mid. I will, Sophronia. Sacred Apollo, things past cannot be recalled, repented they may be: behold Midas, not only submitting himself to punishment, but confessing his peevishness; being glad for shame to call that peevishness, which indeed was folly. Whatsoever Apollo shall command, Midas will execute.

Apol. Then attend, Midas. I accept thy submission and sacrifice, so as yearly at this temple thou offer sacrifice in submission: withal, take Apollo's counsel, which if thou scorn, thou shalt find thy destiny. I will not speak in riddles, all shall be plain, because thou art dull, but all certain if thou be obstinate.

Weigh not in one balance gold and justice.
With one hand wage not war and peace.
Let thy head be glad of one crown:
And take care to keep one friend;
The friend thou wouldst make thy foe.
The kingdom thou wouldst make the world,
The arm that thou dost arm with force,
The gold that thou dost think a god,

Shall conquer, fall, shrink short, be common,

With force, with pride, with fear, with traffic.
If this thou like, shake off an ass's ears;
If not, for ever shake an ass's ears.
Apollo will not reply.

Mid. It may be, Sophronia, that neither you, nor any else, understand Apollo, because none of you have the heart of a king: but my thoughts expound my fortunes, and my fortunes hang upon my thoughts. The great Apollo, that joined to my head ass's ears, hath put into my heart a lion's mind. I see that by obscure shadows, which you cannot discern in fresh colours, Apollo, in the depth of his dark answer, is to me the glistering of a bright sun. I perceive (and yet not too late) that Lesbos will not be touched by gold, by force it cannot: that the gods have pitched it out of the world*, as not to be controlled by any in the world. Though my hand be gold, yet I must not think to span over the main ocean: though my soldiers be valiant, I must not therefore think my quarrels just. There is no way to nail the crown of Phrygia fast to my daughter's head, but in letting the crowns of others sit in quiet on theirs.

Mart. Midas.

Mid. How darest thou reply, seeing me resolved? thy counsel hath spilt more blood than all my soldiers' lances; let none be so hardy as to look to cross me. Sacred Apollo, if sacrifice yearly at thy temple, and submission hourly in mine own court, if fulfilling thy council and correcting my counsellors may shake off these ass's

* Our poet here alludes plainly to the "Ultimus orbis Britannos" of Horace.

ears, I here before thee vow to shake off all envies abroad, and at home all tyranny. [The ears fall off.

Sop. Honoured be Apollo, Midas is restored. Mid. Fortunate Midas, that feelest thy head lightened of dull ears, and thy heart of deadly sorrows. Come, my lords, let us repair to our palace, in which Apollo shall have a stately palace erected: every month will we solemnize there a feast, and here every year a sacrifice. Phrygia shall be governed by gods, not men, lest the gods make beasts of men. So my council of war shall not make conquests in their own conceits, nor my counsellors in peace make me poor, to enrich themselves. So blessed be Apollo, quiet be Lesbos, happy be Midas, and to begin this solemnity, let us sing to Apollo, for so much as music nothing can content Apollo.

Sing to Apollo, god of day,

[They all sing.

Whose golden beams with morning play,.

And make her eyes so brightly shine,

Aurora's face is call'd divine.

Sing to Phoebus and that throne

Of diamonds which he sets upon;
to Pæans let us sing

To physic, and to Poesy's king.

Crown all his altars with bright fire,
Laurels bind about his lyre,
A Daphnean coronet for his head,
The Muses dance about his bed;
When on his ravishing lute he plays,
Strew his temple round with bays;
İo Peans let us sing

To the glittering Delian king.

FINIS.