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 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