While he was in this tumult of despair, he suddenly beheld a
stranger, standing near the door. Midas bent down his head,
without speaking; for he recognized the same figure which had
appeared to him the day before in the treasure room, and had
bestowed on him this disastrous power of the Golden Touch. The
stranger's countenance still wore a smile, which seemed to shed a
yellow luster all about the room, and gleamed on little
Marygold's image, and on the other objects that had been
transmuted by the touch of Midas.
"Well, friend Midas," said the stranger, "pray, how do you
succeed with the Golden Touch?"
Midas shook his head.
"I am very miserable," said he.
"Very miserable! indeed!" exclaimed the stranger; "and how
happens that? Have I not faithfully kept my promise with you?
Have you not everything that your heart desired?"
"Gold is not everything," answered Midas. "And I have lost all
that my heart really cared for."
"Ah! So you have made a discovery, since yesterday?" observed the
stranger. "Let us see, then. Which of these two things do you
think is really worth the most,--the gift of the Golden Touch, or
one cup of clear cold water?"
"O blessed water!" exclaimed Midas. "It will never moisten my
parched throat again!"
"The Golden Touch," continued the stranger, "or a crust of
bread?"
"A piece of bread," answered Midas, "is worth all the gold on
earth!"
"The Golden Touch," asked the stranger, "or your own little
Marygold, warm, soft, and loving, as she was an hour ago?"
"O my child, my dear child!" cried poor King Midas, wringing his
hands. "I would not have given that one small dimple in her chin
for the power of changing this whole big earth into a solid lump
of gold!"
"You are wiser than you were, King Midas?" said the stranger,
looking seriously at him. "Your own heart, I perceive, has not
been entirely changed from flesh to gold. Were it so, your case
would indeed be desperate. But you appear to be still capable of
understanding that the commonest things, such as lie within
everybody's grasp, are more valuable than the riches which so
many mortals sigh and struggle after. Tell me, now, do you
sincerely desire to rid yourself of this Golden Touch?"
"It is hateful to me!" replied Midas.
A fly settled on his nose, but immediately fell to the floor; for
it, too, had become gold. Midas shuddered.
"Go, then," said the stranger, "and plunge into the river that
glides past the bottom of your garden. Take likewise a vase of
the same water, and sprinkle it over any object that you may
desire to change back again from gold into its former substance.
If you do this in earnestness and sincerity, it may possibly
repair the mischief which your avarice has occasioned."
King Midas bowed low; and when he lifted his head, the lustrous
stranger had vanished.