nflamed
with {love for} her. Oh! thrice happy were I, if, moving upon wings
through the air, I could light upon the camp of the Gnossian king, and,
owning myself and my flame, could ask him with what dowry he could wish
to be purchased; provided only, that he did not ask the city of my
father. For, perish rather the desired alliance, than that I should
prevail by treason; although the clemency of a merciful conqueror has
often made it of advantage to many, to be conquered. He certainly
carries on a just war for his slain son,[6] and is strong both in his
cause, and in the arms that defend his cause.

"We shall be conquered, as I suppose. If this fate awaits this city, why
should his own arms, and not my love, open the walls to him? It will be
better for him to conquer without slaughter and delay, and the expense
of his own blood. How much, indeed, do I dread, Minos, lest any one
should unknowingly wound thy breast! for who is so hardened as to dare,
unless unknowingly, to direct his cruel lance against thee? The design
pleases me; and my determination is to deliver up my country as a dowry,
together with myself, and {so} to put an end to the war. But to be
willing, is too little; a guard watches the approaches, and my father
keeps the keys of the gates. Him alone, in my wretchedness, do I dread;
he alone obstructs my desires. Would that the Gods would grant I might
be without a father! Every one, indeed, is a God to himself. Fortune is
an enemy to idle prayers. Another woman, inflamed with a passion so
great, would long since have taken a pleasure in destroying whatever
stood in the way of her love. And why should any one be bolder than
myself? I could dare to go through flames, {and} amid swords. But in
this case there is no occasion for any flames or {any} swords; I {only}
want the lock of my father. That purple lock is more precious to me than
gold; it will make me happy, and mistress of my own wish."

As she is saying such things, the night draws on, the greatest nurse of
cares, and with the darkness her boldness increases. The first slumbers
are now come, in which sleep takes possession of the breast wearied with
the cares of the day. She silently enters the chamber of her father, and
({O abominable} crime!) the daughter despoils the father of his fatal
lock, and having got the prize of crime, carries with her the spoil of
her impiety; and issuing forth by the gate, she goes through the midst
of the enemy, (so gre