For, like many a boy before and since, Perseus had dreamed of gallant, fearless deeds. Like many a boy before and since, he had been the hero of a great adventure.
So he prayed, “Come to me! I pray you, Pallas Athené, come! and let me dream true.”
His prayer was answered.
Into the sky there came a little silver cloud that grew and grew, and ever it grew nearer, and then, as in his dream, Pallas Athené came to him and smiled on him as the sun smiles on the water in spring. Nor was she alone. Beside her stood Hermes of the winged shoes, and Perseus knelt before the two in worship. Then, very gently, Pallas Athené gave him counsel, and more than counsel she gave.
In his hand she placed a polished shield, than which no mirror shone more brightly.
“Do not look at Medusa herself; look only on her image here reflected—then strike home hard and swiftly. And when her head is severed, wrap it in the goatskin on which the shield hangs. So wilt thou return in safety and in honour.”
“But how, then, shall I cross the wet grey fields of this watery way?” asked Perseus. “Would that I were a white-winged bird that skims across the waves.”
And, with the smile of a loving comrade, Hermes laid his hand on the shoulder of Perseus.
“My winged shoes shall be thine,” he said, “and the white-winged sea-birds shalt thou leave far, far behind.”
“Yet another gift is thine,” said Athené. “Gird on, as gift from the gods, this sword that is immortal.”