He said to me, “It’s called the curl of Aphrodite.”
The sound of his voice brought to mind his identity, despite the years that had passed and aged him. He was Acusilaus, the poet exiled by Caesar.
“Give them a sign of friendship, your Majesty,” he whispered in my ear. “Take off your cloak or something.”
I pulled off my clothing and dropped it on the sand. The formation of Amazons approached. They rode with incomparable elegance, combining ease with energy, their two bare legs bent over the dark, shiny hide of their mounts, their torsos erect, knees forward, the pale-colored reins loose in their hands. They were of many different races. The queen had an olive skin and was as tall and thin as a stalk of wheat. The arrangement or disarrangement of her hair was slightly different from that of the others. She wore it like Rodogun, the Persian queen, who, according to legend, was washing her hair when she was informed that a subject tribe had risen in revolt. She hurriedly arranged her hair as best she could, swearing that she would not finish washing it or even comb it until the rebellion had been quashed. With that, she leapt onto her horse, a magnificent mare called Niseana, and galloped off to war. One half of her hair was modestly arranged, as befitted her self-control; the other floated wild, like a Bacchant’s, and bespoke her furious energy. Also, like Rodogun, the way in which her eyebrows arched upward from the point where they met above her nose delighted me with their strong curve. Her eyes were a mixture of black and gray, cheerful eyes, naturally handsome, as haughty as a leader’s ought to be. Her mouth was delicately formed, as if the work of love and loving, and its very shape seemed to speak of kisses. The captain to her right was short and chubby, white-skinned, her light-colored nipples barely visible on her tiny breasts. Her hair was almost gray; at least it looked gray in this light, tossed back and, like that of the others, falling down between her shoulderblades. There were other women with eyes as light as honey or as dark and fiery as a horse’s back — all the horses were virtually identical as if bred from one original pair — or as blue as the sky or the sea or as wild as waving wheat. Other eyes flashed between huge rims, others were elongated and small, still others rounded. Some had rosy faces, some were pale, and others yellowish; there were all shades of dark, and one was as white as the foam of the sea-nymph Galataiera. Women tall and short, women robust and delicate. All the races of the world welcomed me, offering me their finest specimens.
The queen dismounted with a single leap. The masses of Amazons did likewise. The majority sat down by the horses’ feet, but the queen and her captains came forward.
Behind them, musicians began to play uncanny music but stopped the second that the queen and her captains reached me. Even now, without horses under them, they retained something of the air of centaurs about them, indomitable, elegant, glowing with beauty, with a freedom and confidence in their movements, found only among the most privileged males. But there was nothing masculine about them. Strands of semiprecious stones crossed the edges of their breasts, their groins, and their ankles. The latter were used to fasten their high footwear, which resembled Phrygian boots except that they were made of wild animal skins. These women literally glowed; they had no cause to be envious of the Nereids. One of them crowned me with a wreath of flowers.
“Welcome, Cleopatra,” said the queen, before I could say a word myself. “It is written: It is not recorded that any flock rebelled against its shepherd, either to thwart him or to prevent him using their products, but all the same, these flocks are unfriendly to all strangers, more so than to those who control and exploit them. Men, however. .”
She paused. Her troops rose to their feet and followed the footsteps of their queen toward me, approaching extremely close and bringing their saddleless horses with them, so close that the tassels dangled before my face.
“Men,” the queen repeated in a disgusted tone. Her followers hissed with intenser disgust. “Men!” said the queen a third time and her followers hissed again, louder this time, some booing and others bursting into scornful laughter. “Human beings,” continued the queen, in a change of tone that quietened the expressions of contempt, “human beings, female and male—” She said “male” too fast for the others to react to it with hostility, “rebel against only those in whom they detect an intention to rule them wisely. Let a governor prove an egoistic tyrant, who robs their wealth, abuses them, exploits them, and corrupts them with bribes and violence, and they will adore his stupidity and misrule. Let his government be just and prudent, they will pay him back with insurrections and defiance. Today we welcome a queen, who, like Ciro, used her wisdom to subdue the haughty Egyptians. Her subjects were many, her mighty cities benefited from her good government. Your Majesty, Queen Cleopatra, queen of kings, we, the Amazons, declare ourselves your subjects. The queen will return to her throne. She will increase the riches and widen the boundaries of Egypt. She will subjugate cities without number and we shall be her allies, her friends, her right arm in war, subjects of unquestioned loyalty. The pause in the rule of Cleopatra is only temporary; it is the result of her father’s poor choice, because a woman does not need the aid of a weakling brother to authorize her possession of a throne.”
The elders had worked their way through the Amazons and their horses in order to hear the queen from close at hand. On hearing the mention of the weakling brother, they interrupted in chorus: “Down with the filthy institution of marriage! Let women take charge of governing!”
Behind the shouts of the men, an Amazon was shrieking, “Death before a husband’s bed!”
“A quotation from Aeschylus,” I muttered to myself, recognizing the famous phrase. I was upset and put out. “What a petty thing is human will,” I continued. “Instead of giving me as an ally the garrison commanded by the Jew of Pelusium and Ascalon, the gods have brought me here to seal an alliance with these creatures, the last thing I wanted. . I’m finished. This is ridiculous, totally absurd!” I regretted removing my cloak as a sign of friendship.
The old men stopped chanting their slogans and the queen went on. “Cleopatra will return to Egypt, to queen it over kings. Her subjects will be the Medes, the Hyrcanians, who feed their dead to the dogs, the Syrians, Assyrians, Cappadocians, Phrygians, Lydians, Carians, Phoenicians, Babylonians, Bactrians, Indians, Cilicians, Scythians, Paphlagonians, Magadians, Cypriots, and her reign shall be free of terror. She will be adored like a goddess, she will instill into the masses a desire to worship her, they will call her ’generous of heart,’ and her glory will exceed that of the son of Cambyses. Her subjects will include Pasagardians, Mara-phians, Maspians, Germans, Pantialians, and Derusians, as well as nomads, the Daians, Mardians, Dropicans, and Sargacians — all the tribes of Persia! Her subjects will be Gauls, Spaniards, Jews, and all the kingdoms that look on the Mediterranean and the great Ocean. Thus speaks Hippolyta the Third, Queen of the Amazons, in welcome of Cleopatra the Seventh, declaring herself and her troops the foremost of her loyal subjects.”
After the enumeration of possible future subjects, I felt safer and more comfortable, now that government by women and the hatred for marriage had been left behind. As soon as the queen stopped talking, the musicians started up, producing a merry chaos on their instruments, filling the air with sounds like the voices of eunuchs. The queen bade me good-bye with a gesture, and off she went, followed by the rest of the Amazons. I lifted my cloak off the ground, shook it clean, and put it back on.