The two wrangled for a while as to whether there was anything to be seen; and then the eye was passed round to the third sister. But she also failed to see Perseus, though the eye rolled in her head, and glowed like a live coal.
And so they kept passing the eye round from one to another, and yet nothing could they see. At last Perseus, feeling terribly hot and tired, took off Pluto’s helmet to cool himself, when suddenly—
“There he is! I see him now!” exclaimed the old woman who, at the moment, happened to be using the eye.
Then Perseus found out that his helmet made him invisible when he put it on; and he had already found out the use of his sandals. Perhaps the other gifts would have their uses too.
He let the old women have a good look at him each in turn, and then said—
“I am very hungry and thirsty and tired, and don’t know where I am. Will you give me a little food, and tell me who such kind ladies are, and what this place is, and put me on the right road to where I want to go?”
It was the one who happened to have the eye in her head that always spoke.
“We will give you some food,” said she, “for you seem a very well-behaved young man. This place is the great desert of Libya” (which is what we now call the desert of Sahara, in Africa) “and we are three sisters, called the Graiæ. And where do you want to go?”
“I want to visit the Gorgons, and particularly Medusa,” said he. “Do you happen to know where they are?”
“Of course we know, for they are our own kinswomen! But never, no, never, will we tell you where they live, or the way to get there. Never will we let so handsome a youth be turned into stone!”