Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

The queen was a sad woman, but she was, nevertheless, a great queen with extreme foresight. And though she could put the fact that she was a woman to the back of her mind, she could not forget it altogether, for her heart continued to dwell on her husband the king and the woman who had stolen him from her. As for the fact that she was queen, that she could never put to the back of her mind, nor neglect her duties for a single moment. She was sincerely resolved to save the throne and to maintain its exaltation beyond the reach of whispered mutterings of discontent. She wondered if she had come to this decision through a sense of duty alone, or if there were other motives. Our thoughts are always driven by considerations which revolve around those we love and those we hate, for to them we are drawn by hidden forces as a moth is drawn to the light of a lamp. She had felt at the beginning a desire to see Rhadopis, whom she had heard so much about. But what did that mean? Should she go to the woman to talk to her about the affairs of Egypt? Should Queen Nitocris go to the dancer — who offers herself on the market of love, and speak to the — woman in the name of her alleged love for the king, that she might deter him from his wastefulness, and return him to his duty? What a repulsive thought it was.

The queen had had enough of her seclusion, she felt pressed by her hidden emotions and her obvious duty to emerge from her silence and long imprisonment. She could be patient no longer. She had convinced herself that her duty required her to do something, to make another attempt, and she wondered in her bemusement, “Shall I really go to this woman, impress her duty upon her, and ask her to save the king from the abyss toward which he is hurtling?” The very thought threw her into long and sad confusion, and she succumbed to frenzy and delirium. But she would not be distracted from her intention, and her determination grew stronger, like the flood surging downstream which cannot be turned back, but flows ever onward, turbulent, churning, and ferocious. And at the end of this dire struggle she said, “I shall go.”

The next morning she waited until the king had returned, then set off just before noon on one of the royal barges for the gilded white palace of Biga. She was touched by a mood of regret and dismay, for she had not put on royal attire and she was angry with herself for that. The barge berthed by the steps of the palace and she stepped out to be greeted by a slave. She told him that she was a visitor and wished to meet the mistress of the palace and he led her to the reception hall. The air was cold and the winter wind blew icy gusts through naked branches that looked like mummified arms. She sat down in the hall and waited alone. She felt uncomfortable, helpless. She tried to console herself by telling herself that it was right for the queen to sacrifice her pride for the sake of her sublime duty. As the waiting dragged on, she wondered uneasily if Rhadopis would leave her there awhile as she did with the men. She felt a twinge of anxiety and she regretted having been so hasty as to come to the palace of her rival.

A few minutes more passed before she heard the rustle of a garment. She raised her heavy head, and her eyes fell upon Rhadopis for the first time. There was no doubt it was Rhadopis, and Nitocris felt a burning pang of despair. Face-to-face with this devastating beauty, she forgot for a moment her troubles and the purpose of her visit. Rhadopis was taken unaware as well by the sedate beauty of the queen and her dignified demeanor.

They held out their hands to one another in greeting and Rhadopis sat down next to her imposing yet unknown guest, and finding her inclined to silence she addressed her in her musical voice, “You have alighted in your own palace.”

“Thank you,” replied the guest curtly in a deeply solemn voice.

Rhadopis smiled and said, “Would that our guest might permit us to know her noble personage?”

It was a natural enough question, but it irritated the queen as if she had not been expecting it, and she found herself with no alternative but to announce herself. “I am the queen,” she said calmly.

She looked at Rhadopis to see what effect her revelation had, and she saw the smile recede and her eyes shine with astonishment, and her breast swell up and stiffen, like a viper when it is attacked. The queen was not as calm as she appeared, for her heart had changed when she saw her rival. She felt her blood was on fire, scorching her veins, and she was filled with hatred. They had come face-to-face like two champions prepared for mortal combat. She was overcome with a feeling of bitterness deformed with anger and resentment. For a moment the queen forgot everything, save that she was looking at the woman who had plundered her happiness, and Rhadopis forgot everything, except that she was in front of the woman who shared her lover's name and throne.