to parcel out the fields among them I called them Myrmidons, from the ant (myrmex) from which they sprang.  You have seen these persons; their dispositions resemble those which they had in their former shape.  They are a diligent and industrious race, eager to gain, and tenacious of their gains.  Among them you may recruit your forces.  They will follow you to the war, young in years and bold in heart.”  This description of the plague is copied by Ovid from the account which Thucydides, the Greek historian, gives of the plague of Athens.  The historian drew from life, and all the poets and writers of fiction since his day, when they have had occasion to describe a similar scene, have borrowed their details from him.

CHAPTER XIII

NISUS AND SCYLLA—­ECHO AND NARCISSUS—­CLYTIE—­HERO AND LEANDER

NISUS AND SCYLLA

Minos, king of Crete, made war upon Megara.  Nisus was king of Megara, and Scylla was his daughter.  The siege had now lasted six months and the city still held out, for it was decreed by fate that it should not be taken so long as a certain purple lock, which glittered among the hair of King Nisus, remained on his head.  There was a tower on the city walls, which overlooked the plain where Minos and his army were encamped.  To this tower Scylla used to repair, and look abroad over the tents of the hostile army.  The siege had lasted so long that she had learned to distinguish the persons of the leaders.  Minos, in particular, excited her admiration.  Arrayed in his helmet, and bearing his shield, she admired his graceful deportment; if he threw his javelin skill seemed combined with force in the discharge; if he drew his bow Apollo himself could not have done it more gracefully.  But when he laid aside his helmet, and in his purple robes bestrode his white horse with its gay caparisons, and reined in its foaming mouth, the daughter of Nisus was hardly mistress of herself; she was almost frantic with admiration.  She envied the weapon that he grasped, the reins that he held.  She felt as if she could, if it were possible, go to him through the hostile ranks; she felt an impulse to cast herself down from the tower into the midst of his camp, or to open the gates to him, or to do anything else, so only it might gratify Minos.  As she sat in the tower, she talked thus with herself:  “I know not whether to rejoice or grieve at this sad war.  I grieve that Minos is our enemy; but I rejoice at any cause that brings him to my sight.  Perhaps he would be willing to grant us peace, and receive me as a hostage.  I would fly down, if I could, and alight in his camp, and tell him that we yield ourselves to his mercy.  But then, to betray my father!  No! rather would I never see Minos again.  And yet no doubt it is sometimes the best thing for a city to be conquered, when the conqueror is clement and generous.  Minos certainly