アイドル者のアイドル噺

ゲルト・フレーベからの連想。

彼が演じた最も有名なキャラクター（の一つ）は007シリーズ第3作『007/ゴールドフィンガー（Goldfinger）』（1964年）のラスボス（と言っても冒頭から出ているが）だろう。シャーリー・バッシー（Dame Shirley Veronica Bassey）の歌った主題歌も有名だが、その歌詞「He's the man, the man with the Midas touch」はギリシア神話に由来する。そのミダス（「マイダス」は英語読み）王の話。

前出ブルフィンチ『伝説の時代』より。

Bacchus, on a certain occasion, found his old schoolmaster and foster-father, Silenus, missing. The old man had been drinking, and in that state wandered away, and was found by some peasants, who carried him to their king, Midas. Midas recognized him, and treated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights with an unceasing round of jollity. On the eleventh day he brought Silenus back, and restored him in safety to his pupil. Whereupon Bacchus offered Midas his choice of a reward, whatever he might wish. He asked that whatever he might touch should be changed into GOLD. Bacchus consented, though sorry that he had not made a better choice. Midas went his way, rejoicing in his new-acquired power, which he hastened to put to the test. He could scarce believe his eyes when he found a twig of an oak, which he plucked from the branch, become gold in his hand. He took up a stone; it changed to gold. He touched a sod; it did the same. He took an apple from the tree; you would have thought he had robbed the garden of the Hesperides. His joy knew no bounds, and as soon as he got home, he ordered the servants to set a splendid repast on the table. Then he found to his dismay that whether he touched bread, it hardened in his hand; or put a morsel to his lips, it defied his teeth. He took a glass of wine, but it flowed down his throat like melted gold.

In consternation at the unprecedented affliction, he strove to divest himself of his power; he hated the gift he had lately coveted. But all in vain; starvation seemed to await him. He raised his arms, all shining with gold, in prayer to Bacchus, begging to be delivered from his glittering destruction. Bacchus, merciful deity, heard and consented. "Go," said he, "to the River Pactolus, trace the stream to its fountain-head, there plunge your head and body in, and wash away your fault and its punishment." He did so, and scarce had he touched the waters before the gold-creating power passed into them, and the river-sands became changed into GOLD, as they remain to this day.

ローマの詩人オウィディウス（Ovidius、Ovid、 紀元前43年-紀元後17（18?）年）作『変身譚（Metamorphoses）』ヴァージョン。原文がラテン語の詩なので英訳も脚韻を踏んでいる。

The Fable of Midas 

Nor this suffic'd; the God's disgust remains, 

And he resolves to quit their hated plains; 

The vineyards of Tymole ingross his care, 

And, with a better choir, he fixes there; 

Where the smooth streams of clear Pactolus roll'd, 

Then undistinguish'd for its sands of gold. 

The satyrs with the nymphs, his usual throng, 

Come to salute their God, and jovial danc'd along. 

Silenus only miss'd; for while he reel'd, 

Feeble with age, and wine, about the field, 

The hoary drunkard had forgot his way, 

And to the Phrygian clowns became a prey; 

Who to king Midas drag the captive God, 

While on his totty pate the wreaths of ivy nod. 

Midas from Orpheus had been taught his lore, 

And knew the rites of Bacchus long before. 

He, when he saw his venerable guest, 

In honour of the God ordain'd a feast. 

Ten days in course, with each continu'd night, 

Were spent in genial mirth, and brisk delight: 

Then on th' eleventh, when with brighter ray 

Phosphor had chac'd the fading stars away, 

The king thro' Lydia's fields young Bacchus sought, 

And to the God his foster-father brought. 

Pleas'd with the welcome sight, he bids him soon 

But name his wish, and swears to grant the boon. 

A glorious offer! yet but ill bestow'd 

On him whose choice so little judgment show'd. 

Give me, says he (nor thought he ask'd too much), 

That with my body whatsoe'er I touch, 

Chang'd from the nature which it held of old, 

May be converted into yellow gold. 

He had his wish; but yet the God repin'd, 

To think the fool no better wish could find. 

But the brave king departed from the place, 

With smiles of gladness sparkling in his face: 

Nor could contain, but, as he took his way, 

Impatient longs to make the first essay. 

Down from a lowly branch a twig he drew, 

The twig strait glitter'd with a golden hue: 

He takes a stone, the stone was turn'd to gold; 

A clod he touches, and the crumbling mold 

Acknowledg'd soon the great transforming pow'r, 

In weight and substance like a mass of ore. 

He pluck'd the corn, and strait his grasp appears 

Fill'd with a bending tuft of golden ears. 

An apple next he takes, and seems to hold 

The bright Hesperian vegetable gold. 

His hand he careless on a pillar lays. 

With shining gold the fluted pillars blaze: 

And while he washes, as the servants pour, 

His touch converts the stream to Danae's show'r. 

To see these miracles so finely wrought, 

Fires with transporting joy his giddy thought. 

The ready slaves prepare a sumptuous board, 

Spread with rich dainties for their happy lord; 

Whose pow'rful hands the bread no sooner hold, 

But its whole substance is transform'd to gold: 

Up to his mouth he lifts the sav'ry meat, 

Which turns to gold as he attempts to eat: 

His patron's noble juice of purple hue, 

Touch'd by his lips, a gilded cordial grew; 

Unfit for drink, and wondrous to behold, 

It trickles from his jaws a fluid gold. 

The rich poor fool, confounded with surprize, 

Starving in all his various plenty lies: 

Sick of his wish, he now detests the pow'r, 

For which he ask'd so earnestly before; 

Amidst his gold with pinching famine curst; 

And justly tortur'd with an equal thirst. 

At last his shining arms to Heav'n he rears, 

And in distress, for refuge, flies to pray'rs. 

O father Bacchus, I have sinn'd, he cry'd, 

And foolishly thy gracious gift apply'd; 

Thy pity now, repenting, I implore; 

Oh! may I feel the golden plague no more. 

The hungry wretch, his folly thus confest, 

Touch'd the kind deity's good-natur'd breast; 

The gentle God annull'd his first decree, 

And from the cruel compact set him free. 

But then, to cleanse him quite from further harm, 

And to dilute the relicks of the charm, 

He bids him seek the stream that cuts the land 

Nigh where the tow'rs of Lydian Sardis stand; 

Then trace the river to the fountain head, 

And meet it rising from its rocky bed; 

There, as the bubling tide pours forth amain, 

To plunge his body in, and wash away the stain. 

The king instructed to the fount retires, 

But with the golden charm the stream inspires: 

For while this quality the man forsakes, 

An equal pow'r the limpid water takes; 

Informs with veins of gold the neighb'ring land, 

And glides along a bed of golden sand.