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.