Now Pan had invented the shepherd’s flute, which was made from a reed, and upon which he could play better than could anyone else. It was a very simple instrument: one that could produce only simple melodies. But after Pan had learned to play upon it well, he began to think that his pastoral tunes were wonderfully fine, and at last he imagined that they were quite equal to the harmonies even of Apollo, who was master of the art of music, and a matchless player upon a stringed instrument called the lyre.
King Midas, as he walked about the groves and pastures with Pan, listened with pleasure to the music of his pipe, and praised him so warmly that Pan’s self-conceit grew beyond all bounds. He thought his simple music equal to that of the gods.
At length Pan sent a challenge to Apollo, asking him to meet him and let it be decided by the listeners who was the greater musician of the two.
Apollo accepted the challenge, and at the appointed time the people gathered in great numbers, for such a meeting had never been heard of before.
Among the listeners was King Midas.
Pan was the first to play. He stepped forth, clad all in green to match the verdure of the meadows and of the trees, over which he ruled.
He put his simple pipe of reeds to his lips and began playing, and the people listened with great interest and pleasure, for surely no one dreamed that such music could come from the shepherd’s pipe.
But when Pan had finished, Apollo stepped forth. He was clad in royal purple, and his cloak was thrown back that his right arm might be free.
He struck the strings of the lyre, and the music that fell upon the air was so marvelously sweet, so full of pathos, so full of ravishing beauty, that all the people were moved by the sound. Then they applauded Apollo, and laughed to scorn the boastful challenge of Pan.