The text of the Pseudo-Apollodorus manuscript is corrupted here, but Hesiod’s Shield of Heracles offers further information. He describes Perseus fleeing after decapitating Medusa. Perseus is flying （thanks to the winged sandals） at the speed of thought.19 He also has a black-sheathed sword held across both shoulders with a bronze belt. The Gorgon’s head is carried on his back in his silver kibisis. But this is no ordinary rucksack, it is one designed to carry a powerfully destructive item: the head of the Gorgon. It is, Hesiod tells us, thauma idesthai – ‘a wonder to behold’。20 It is silver, with gleaming gold tassels. It must be strong to contain something as heavy as a head and its snakes, and it must be of a thick fabric to contain Medusa’s lithifying gaze. Is the bag made from actual silver and decorated with actual gold? It would be formidably heavy, but then Perseus is gold-born and his sandals are used to carrying Hermes and whatever he is ferrying around, so he’s surely built for the load. Perseus has also been able to borrow the cap of Hades （one hesitates to compare nymphs to Wombles in virtually any regard, but they certainly seem to make good use of the things that they find）。 The cap holds the grim darkness of night, Hesiod says:21 in other words, it makes the wearer invisible.
It is interesting to note just how much assistance Perseus requires to help him decapitate Medusa. Two Olympian gods help him to reach the Graiai, who help him to find the nymphs, who equip him with winged shoes, a fancy backpack and a hat which bestows invisibility. And yet, most of this equipment is for his getaway, when he needs to escape from Medusa’s sisters. Medusa herself doesn’t put up a fight, because Perseus decapitates her when she is asleep. According to Pseudo-Apollodorus, Perseus goes for Medusa’s head purely because she is the only mortal one of the three Gorgons （who are here described with their customary snakes, as well as having large tusks like pigs, bronze hands and gold wings）。 Perseus finds them when they are all asleep and once again receives the assistance of a god. Athene guides his sword hand towards Medusa’s sleeping neck; Perseus looks away into his shield’s reflection as he beheads her.
It is not, as described by Pseudo-Apollodorus, a very heroic act. And the killing looks especially brutal when it is shown in Greek vase painting. There is a red-figure pelike – jar – in the Metropolitan Museum in New York,22 which stands almost half a metre high and was painted by an artist named Polygnotos. It dates to around the middle of the fifth century BCE and shows Perseus attacking Medusa. His gaze is averted from her; he looks behind him at Athene, who stands calmly to our left. She holds her spear, her expression is placid. Perseus is sporting the winged sandals and a winged cap. Medusa is asleep, her wings are stretched out behind her. Her face is drawn with just a few simple lines – one for each eyebrow, one for each closed eye, two for her nose and mouth. She reminds me a little of Paul Klee’s line drawing Forgetful Angel. Medusa is – unusually, at this point in her story – shown as a beautiful woman, rather than an even partial monster: there are no snakes here. She wears a dress with a pattern of squares down the front and zig-zags along the seams. Her lovely face is resting on one of her hands, her ringlets are squashed against her chin. And Perseus is slicing through the back of her neck with a curved blade.
This pot is frankly extraordinary. It might be the most sympathetic depiction of Medusa in any medium. It reveals what so much of the myth obscures: stripped of the monster/hero dynamic, all we see is a man beheading a woman.
The immediate aftermath of the decapitation can be seen on a small hydria – water jar – in the British Museum, attributed to the Pan Painter.23 Athene, Perseus and Medusa are again all present, and this scene is filled with movement. To the left, Perseus is creeping away from the body of Medusa. His right leg is stretched out in front of him; his left leg is poised to follow it, heel already lifted from the ground. He is wearing calf-length boots which flare away from his ankles like wings, and the winged helmet. In his left hand is the curved blade of his harpe – a sickle-shaped sword. His right arm is outstretched, palm upwards: is it for balance? Or is he triumphant? On the right-hand side, Athene is hastening after Perseus. Her sheer dress has a polka-dot pattern, we can see her left leg through the fabric as she runs. She is holding her skirt up in her left hand, for ease of movement, and she carries her spear on her right shoulder.
Perseus is looking behind him, but not at Athene. Instead he looks down, at the body of Medusa which fills the centre of the scene. Over Perseus’ left shoulder hangs the kibisis, into which Medusa’s head has been roughly stuffed. We can still see her eyes over the top of it, but they are closed. Her hair is also visible, in neat waves pinned under a hairband. Again, this is not the face of a monster, it is the head of a woman. Her body is remarkable: she half-lies, half-kneels on her right hip, legs curving behind her at the knee. She’s wearing a short chiton – dress – with little sleeves which drape from her shoulders. Her arms are stretched out, her fingers are long and elegant, pressing lightly into the ground, still supporting her weight. Her pale wings flutter behind her. Blood flows from her neck down the front of her dress.