Plato's Republic told a story like this.
There was a shepherd named Gyges. One day, while tending his flock, he found a magic ring. If he turned it 180 degrees, he could become invisible; turn it back, and he would reappear. With this power of invisibility, he committed many vile and deceitful acts, even murder.
He was a rogue and a scoundrel, yet a renowned rich man far and wide. Gyges not only profited enormously by pretending to be a good man, but also gained greatly by committing countless evils without being punished.
There was a novel called The Lord of the Rings. In it, the halfling Frodo inherited a magic ring from his uncle, one that allowed his uncle to "remain forever young" as long as he did not take it off. But the ring actually belonged to the Dark Lord Sauron, and many people wanted it.
In the story, this One Ring was the master of all rings. What Pomona cared about, however, was what Frodo, who possessed it, would do with it—whether he would use it for evil like the shepherd Gyges.
The ring held such immense temptation. If it were handed to a fair and upright person, would he quickly fall because of it?
As the story continued, Frodo set out on an adventure under the protection of his friends, intending to carry the magic ring to the place where it had been forged and destroy it. Along the way, they did indeed encounter many people drawn to the ring, including upright people who fell from grace.
There were no rings of invisibility in wizards' fairy tales, but there was an Invisibility Cloak. The youngest of the three brothers used it to hide himself and evade Death's pursuit.
In the fifteenth century, there was a Muggle-born