I cried aloud, “The truth is that the number of the continents is not two but three, and they cannot belong to any queen, even though she were the darling of the gods and the living incarnation of Egypt’s Isis. Yet if the gods gave her their vote and set her astride the bull’s back to send her across the sea, the queen is able to unite the continents in loving friendship, arranging from Africa’s shore a marriage between the two, to form one single territory.”
The words were barely out of my mouth, when Selene appeared above the sea, her moonlight glistening on the white horns of the bull, on its head, its neck, its broad back. The nymphs reappeared, as beautiful as before, and the Tritons returned from their golden palace beneath the waves and sounded their horns, trumpeting vigorously but without the terrible violence they employ to rout the enemies of the gods.
“A single Earth!” I repeated. The Tritons raised themselves farther above the surface to reveal their majestic tails, and the whales and the nymphs turned into waterspouts. “A single continent that is two in one, one in two, each at peace with the other. With neither trying to impose itself on the other, their gods will dine together in convivial ease.”
I raised myself by grasping one of the wet horns and with the other pressed back down the floating folds of my purple robe, for the bull had picked up speed again, swimming like a dolphin. My broad cloak rippled gaily on my shoulders; I would create a single continent, where gods and animals walked side by side in harmony.
Here the bull addressed me, while my thighs navigated its course: “Cleopatra, there is only one way to hold on to power. Not to harangue, not to bribe, not to chastise, not to fail in your administration, not to make gold out of stones — all these are sound guidelines for a ruler. But your only way to preserve your throne is to be Isis incarnate and make yourself a queen of kings. Be Isis! Be the glory of womankind!”
The Tritons approached me and, each fondling in his fist something that could have been an erect penis, they sang to me in fluting tones that imitated women’s voices.
I am the sovereign mistress of the earth.
Hermes himself first taught me writing’s worth
To scribe all things, both sacred and profane.
My laws control mankind, where’er I reign.
Cronos, my father, rules in Heaven’s house;
Osiris is my brother and my spouse.
I bring the earth’s best fruits to mortal men.
Each night I make the stars shine bright again.
Then the vastness of the sea rumbled thunderously, as if its profound and enormous tongue were playing tricks, and there on the ruffled surface appeared an opening from which arose Neptune, god of the seas, a huge, bearded giant, as white as marble, with purple eyes and red lips. He turned his head to stare at me. He was grasping in his right hand his erect penis, extraordinary, beautiful, and his arm jerked up and down and he spattered the sea with drops of his silvery jism.
Then he spoke:
Be thou the goddess dear to women all.
For thee they built Bubastis’ mighty wall.
’Twas thou who marked off earth from heaven’s height
And thou who taught the stars to shine their light
And Sun and Moon to course through day and night.
Thou guide of ocean’s ever-restless tides,
Thou teacher of where human good abides,
Bringing to men the partners that they need
That in nine months may come forth love’s ripe seed.
Thou taught to offspring how to pay due heed
To parents and before thy rod have quailed
All those who in their pious duty failed;
Then aided by Osiris, limits set
To ills that fragile human lives beget.
Turning toward me, he showed me the lowest part of his belly, opened like a vaginal eye. “You have, O goddess, the eye that sees all things from the flesh. You gave it to women and closed it in men, so that women might find in them the pleasure that heals the pain that comes from seeing all. Between their legs men carry the organ women need to make the pain of being bearable.”
Neptune placed his erect penis into the red eye of his lower belly, to seal it. The rest of his penis remained in the place where males have it. Then he sank back down below the surface, slowly. While the Tritons blew their horns, silvery sperm was scattered around. When only his head was visible, he spoke his last words, “You will reign in a palace made for daylight. I return to mine, the male palace, which lives out by night all the hours of the day.”
The sea settled back to calm, the opening of the god closed over. The Nereids continued with their introductions.
“I am Nesaie, lady queen, she who surrounds islands,” said one.
When another of these beauties said to me, “I am Kymo, the wave,” an immense wave lifted up the bull and me. One after another, without seeing any of them, I heard them calling, “I am Pontoporeia; I lead the seas to places beyond the sea. . I am Protho, she who drives the waters forward. . I am Eulimene; I guide sailors to safe harbors. .” The wave burst and a mass of foam abruptly deposited us on the sandy shore, close to the mouth of a river.
The bull shook off the water. It no longer emitted the divine odor. It did not transform itself into a man and loose my girdle to have intercourse with me. Instead, it half-turned away. It now had a fish’s tail. It ran back to the sea and again began to swim like a dolphin, its feet moving like oars. Its desire had been to fertilize me with a dream.
The round, enormous sun, still a peachy orange, rested on the horizon. I turned my eyes from the sea and surveyed our landing spot. At first glance I thought it was Themiskira, on the banks of the Thermidon River, for there to receive me were the Amazons, mounted on splendid steeds, drawn up in military formation, a strap of viper’s skin holding in place the bow and quiver, the only covering for their chests, long hair disheveled, discolored by sun and salt, in the most barbaric disarray. They wore strange-looking boots, tied by gleaming laces. On foot, on both sides of the queen and her captains, stood two dozen stately old men as her guardians.
The sight of the army, illuminated by the setting sun that covered it with a velvety peachy fuzz, as if turning these warriors into fruits, was impressive. How many women there were, and how handsome! I walked toward them. On the fine horses and on the women’s attractive bodies glittered lines of precious stones. The horses’ heads were decorated with purple tassels and their reins were gilded. The foreheads of the Amazons were decorated with a stiff curl. Each one was a Venus, but an earthy, savage Venus. I could imagine them emerging from the earth the way Venus emerged from the sea!
My clothes were wet and most likely my hair looked as messy as theirs. I ran my hands through it and realized that it had come loose, dropping down to my shoulders and onto my back. Then I fiddled with my forehead trying to arrange a curl like theirs. As if responding to a silent order, one of the long-bearded elders, dressed in Greek style like the other elders, hurried forward and with a tiny gold knife clipped a lock of my hair. Officiously, with an ointment one of his fellows brought him, he arranged a curl that clung to my forehead. It must have resembled the Amazons’ lock, a small twist of bright hair, the start of a spiral, shining on my temples like a breaking smile.