He drove his golden sun chariot through the heavens every day, and on his lyre he played sweet music. […] He could see no one, and yet every cry of his was answered, and the voice seemed very near. […] He said that every year the people of Athens must send to Crete seven youths and seven young maidens. […] He was afraid of no one, for every one loved him and was kind to him. […] One midnight, when every one was fast asleep, he took a spade, and walked to an open meadow which was far away from any dwelling place.