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Perseus now understood Quicksilver’s motive for so earnestly exhorting
him to polish his shield. In its surface he could safely look at the
reflection of the Gorgon’s face. And there it was,–that terrible
countenance,–mirrored in the brightness of the shield, with the
moonlight falling over it, and displaying all its horror. The snakes,
whose venomous natures could not altogether sleep, kept twisting
themselves over the forehead. It was the fiercest and most horrible
face that ever was seen or imagined, and yet with a strange, fearful,
and savage kind of beauty in it. The eyes were closed, and the Gorgon
was still in a deep slumber; but there was an unquiet expression
disturbing her features, as if the monster was troubled with an ugly
dream. She gnashed her white tusks, and dug into the sand with her
brazen claws.

The snakes, too, seemed to feel Medusa’s dream, and to be made more
restless by it. They twined themselves into tumultuous knots, writhed
fiercely, and uplifted a hundred hissing heads, without opening their
eyes.

“Now, now!” whispered Quicksilver, who was growing impatient. “Make a
dash at the monster!”

“But be calm,” said the grave, melodious voice, at the young man’s side.
“Look in your shield, as you fly downward, and take care that you do not
miss your first stroke.”

Perseus flew cautiously downward, still keeping his eyes on Medusa’s
face, as reflected in his shield. The nearer he came, the more terrible
did the snaky visage and metallic body of the monster grow. At last,
when he found himself hovering over her within arm’s length, Perseus
uplifted his sword, while, at the same instant, each separate snake upon
the Gorgon’s head stretched threateningly upward, and Medusa unclosed
her eyes. But she awoke too late. The sword was sharp; the stroke fell
like a lightning-flash; and the head of the wicked Medusa tumbled from
her body!

“Admirably done!” cried Quicksilver. “Make haste, and clap the head
into your magic wallet.”

To the astonishment of Perseus, the small, embroidered wallet, which he
had hung about his neck, and which had hitherto been no bigger than a
purse, grew all at once large enough to contain Medusa’s head. As quick
as thought, he snatched it up, with the snakes still writhing upon it,
and thrust it in.

“Your task is done,” said the calm voice. “Now fly; for the other
Gorgons will do their utmost to take vengeance for Medusa’s death.”

It was, indeed, necessary to take flight; for Perseus had not done the
deed so quietly, but that the clash of his sword, and the hissing of the
snakes, and the thump of Medusa’s head as it tumbled upon the sea-beaten
sand, awoke the other two monsters. There they sat, for an instant,
sleepily rubbing their eyes with their brazen fingers, while all the
snakes on their heads reared themselves on end with surprise, and with
venomous malice against they knew not what. But when the Gorgons saw
the scaly carcass of Medusa, headless, and her golden wings all ruffled,
and half spread out on the sand, it was really awful to hear what yells
and screeches they set up. And then the snakes! They sent forth a
hundred-fold hiss, with one consent, and Medusa’s snakes answered them
out of the magic wallet.

No sooner were the Gorgons broad awake, than they hurtled upward into
the air, brandishing their brass talons, gnashing their horrible tusks,
and flapping their huge wings so wildly, that some of the golden
feathers were shaken out, and floated down upon the shore. And there,
perhaps, those very feathers he scattered, till this day. Up rose the
Gorgons, as I tell you, staring horribly about, in hopes of turning
somebody to stone. Had Perseus looked them in the face, or had he
fallen into their clutches, his poor mother would never have kissed her
boy again! But he took good care to turn his eyes another way; and, as
he wore the helmet of invisibility, the Gorgons knew not in what
direction to follow him; nor did he fail to make the best use of the
winged slippers, by soaring upward a perpendicular mile or so. At that
height, when the screams of those abominable creatures sounded faintly
beneath him, he made a straight course for the island of Seriphus, in
order to carry Medusa’s head to King Polydectes.