Yet, in truth, both the disease and the circumstances of the plague-stricken city were such as to shake the courage of the bravest. For, as the historian narrates, suddenly, without any apparent cause preceding, people who seemed in perfect health were seized with an extreme ache in their heads, and redness and inflammation of the eyes; then inwardly their throats and tongues grew presently bloody, and their breath became noisome and unsavoury. Thereupon followed sneezing and hoarseness, and, not long after, the pain, together with a mighty cough, came down into the breast. As the disease spread, most dreadful weakness and, in most cases, strong convulsions ensued. The bodies of the afflicted outwardly to the touch were not very hot, but inwardly they so burned as not to endure the lightest clothes or linen garment, and they would fain have cast themselves into the cold water. Their thirst was insatiable, and those who were not looked after ran to the wells; but whether they drank much or little, they got neither ease nor power of sleep. Many suffered for seven or nine days, and then died of the inner burning, while yet their strength seemed undiminished; others survived the torment, and then died of weakness. Some escaped with the loss of their eyes or the extremities of the limbs, and others were so much stricken in mind that they remembered neither themselves nor their acquaintances. And the sickness, and the cruelty wherewith it handled each one, far surmounted all expression in words—it was so grievous and terrible. But the greatest misery of all was the dejection of mind in such as found themselves beginning to be sick, for they grew presently desperate, and gave themselves over without making any resistance. Many died like sheep affected by mutual visitation; and some, forsaken and forlorn, for want of such as should take care of them. The mortality was greatly increased by the crowds of country people who, on account of the war, had come into the city with their goods and chattels, and having no homes, they lived in stifling booths and in tents. Dying men lay tumbling one upon another in the streets, and about every spring and conduit. The temples, also, were full of dead, for, oppressed with the violence of the calamity, and not knowing what to do, men grew careless even of holy things. The laws which they formerly used touching funerals were all broken. When one had made a funeral pile, another getting before him would throw in his dead and give it fire. And when one was burning, another would come, and having cast therein him whom he carried, go his way again. Yet up to that time no feeling amongst the Athenians was more profound than their respect for the dead.