She does not make a nest
or habitation in any one place, but taking up a
roving, Scythian life on the wing, finds bed and
board wherever night chances to overtake her. But
in the dark, as I have said, she does nothing: she
has no desire for stealthy actions and no thought
of disgraceful deeds which would discredit her if
they were done by daylight.
 
The story goes that long ago there was a human
being called Muia, a girl who was very pretty, but
talkative, noisy, and fond of singing. She became a
‘rival of Selene by falling in love with Endymion, and
as she was for ever waking the boy out of his sleep
by chattering and singing and paying him visits, he
became vexed at her, and Selene in anger turned
her into the fly we know.
 The story explains the word μυῖα, “fly,” as having been
originally the name of a girl. 
So, in remembrance of
Endymion, she begrudges all sleepers their repose,
especially those of tender years; and even her
biting and bloodthirstiness is not a sign of savagery,
but of love and friendship. She gets what


 

satisfaction she can, and culls something of the bloom of
beauty.