MIDAS.
(aside to Zopyr).
Advise yourself, my friend, or you may grow
Shorter by a head ere night.—I am blessed,
Happier than ever earthly man could boast.
Do you fulfil your words?
BACCHUS.
Yes, thoughtless man!
And much I fear if you have not the ears
You have the judgement of an ass. Farewel!
I found you rich & happy; & I leave you,
Though you know it not, miserably poor.
Your boon is granted,—touch! make gold! Some here
Help carry old Silenus off, who sleeps
The divine sleep of heavy wine. Farewel!
MIDAS.
Bacchus, divine, how shall I pay my thanks[?]
(Exeunt.)
END OF FIRST ACT.
Footnotes
[1] A syllable here, a whole foot in the previous line, appear to be missing.
[2] Another halting line. Cf. again, p. [47], 1. 3; p. [55], 1. 11; p. [59], 1.1; p. [61], 1. 1; p. [64], 1. 14.]