In the following account, the Roman poet Ovid relates the tale of the tragic escape of Daedalus and Icarus from Crete.

[Daedalus] turned his mind toward unknown arts, changing the laws of nature. He laid out feathers in order, first the smallest, a little larger next to it, and so continued, the way that pan-pipes rise in gradual sequence. He fastened them with twine and wax, at middle, at bottom, so, and bent them, gently curving, so that they looked like wings of birds, most surely. And Icarus, his son, stood by and watched him. . . . When it was done at last, his father hovered, poised, in the moving air, and taught his son: "I warn you, Icarus, fly a middle course: Don't go too low, or water will weigh the wings down; don't go too high, or the sun's fire...