Whether Midas slept as usual that night, the story does not say.
But when the earliest sunbeam shone through the window, and
gilded the ceiling over his head, it seemed to him that this
bright yellow sunbeam was reflected in rather a singular way on
the white coverimg 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 bedposts, 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! it was a bundle of thin golden plates, in which all the
wisdom of the book had grown illegible.
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; that was likewise gold, with the dear child's
neat and pretty stitches running all along the border, in gold
thread!
Somehow or other, this last transformation did not quite please
King Midas. He would rather that his little daughter's handiwork
should have remained just the same as when she climbed his knee
and put it into his hand.
But it was not worth while to vex himself about a trifle. Midas
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.
"It is no great matter, nevertheless," said he to himself, very
philosophically. "We cannot expect any great good, without its
being accompanied with some small inconvenience. The Golden Touch
is worth the sacrifice of a pair of spectacles at least, if
not of one's very eyesight. My own eyes will serve for ordinary
purposes, and little Marygold will soon be old enough to read to
me."