The Etruscan

by Mika Waltari

  His body began to tremble and saliva trickled from the twisted corner of his mouth. Arsinoe entered the room as though she had passed the doorway by chance, wiped the old man’s beard with a linen towel, gently stroked his sparse hair and spoke to me angrily. “Surely you are not tiring our host or distressing him?” Tertius Valerius ceased trembling as soon as he clutched Arsinoe’s hand, looked at her lovingly and said, “No, daughter, he has not been tiring me. Rather, I have tired him. I should remember that I am not speaking in the Senate. I have a proposition to make to you, Turnus. If you wish, I can obtain Roman citizenship rights for you in a fairly good tribus. As a plebeian, of course, but you had sufficient means upon entering the city to meet the property demands for a heavily armored soldier. You cannot enter the cavalry because that is separate, but you can enter the army and you have experience in warfare as your wife has related and your scars prove. There is your opportunity, Turnus. After that, everything depends on yourself. The gate to the temple of Janus is always open.”

  I knew that a serious war was expected because the traitor Coriolanus was training the Volscians’ best warriors in Roman battle tactics. I surmised that I could become a Roman citizen by merely petitioning it since I had sufficient means to pay for my arms, and under those conditions I did not need Tertius Valerius’ recommendations. While it is true that he thought of my interests, as a Roman he also thought of the city’s. Even one experienced heavily armored soldier strengthened the army, and as a new citizen I could be expected to fight as well as possible to gain a reputation.

  His suggestion was sensible, but I had had enough of war with Dorieus. The very thought of war made me feel ill.

  I could not explain my feeling but it was so strong that I replied, “Tertius Valerius, don’t be angry with me but I don’t feel that I am yet ready for Roman citizenship. Perhaps later, but I cannot promise anything.”

  Tertius Valerius and Arsinoe exchanged glances. To my surprise they did not attempt to persuade me.

  Instead, Tertius Valerius asked carefully, “Then what do you intend to do, my son? If I can advise you in any way, speak.”

  The thought had surely matured in me although it burst forth only in response to his question. “There are other lands besides Rome,” I said. “To increase my knowledge I intend to travel to the Etruscan cities. A great war is brewing in the East. Of that I have certain knowledge, and it may be that its repercussions will even extend to Italy. Before such an avalanche even Rome would be but a city among cities. Knowledge of other countries is always needed, and my knowledge and political astuteness may some day benefit Rome.”

  Tertius Valerius nodded enthusiastically. “Perhaps you are right. Political advisers on distant lands are always needed, and Roman citizenship would be only a hindrance to you in obtaining this experience since it would obligate you to military service. I can give you letters of introduction to influential persons in both Veii and Caere, the nearest of the large Etruscan cities. It would also be wise for you to become acquainted with the Etruscan coastal cities of Populonia and Vetulonia, on which we are completely dependent for iron. In fact, the armed strength of Rome is founded on the free import of iron from the Etruscan cities.”

  When Arsinoe stooped to wipe his dripping mouth I took advantage of the moment and said with a smile, “I have enjoyed your hospitality far too long, Tertius Valerius. I cannot impose upon you still more by requesting letters of recommendation. I shall probably wander alone and freely and I don’t know whether the recommendation of a Roman senator would benefit me in trying to befriend respected Etruscans. It is better for me not to tie myself to Rome even with your recommendations, as much as I value your friendship.”

  He placed his hands cordially on my shoulders and said that I should not hasten my departure. As his friend I would always have a place by his hearth, whenever and for as long a time as I wished it. But despite the warmth of his voice I was certain that this was farewell. For one reason or another he and Arsinoe wanted me to leave Rome. My suggestion pleased them both.

  Their behavior wounded my vanity to the extent that I was determined to get along on my own assets and if possible to augment my resources along the way. Thus Arsinoe bound me to the earth and to everyday life even more tightly than if I had remained with her. She sent me forth among the ordinary people to gauge the possibility of profit and if necessary to work with my hands, which I had never before done. For that reason my journey was to constitute a period of learning in which I would discover the needs of a simple person in a civilized world.

  I exchanged my delicate footwear for heavy-soled Roman travel shoes and donned a simple shirt and gray woolen mantle. My hair had grown again and without anointing it I braided it into a knot at my neck.

  Arsinoe laughed at my appearance until the tears came, thus easing the pangs of parting.

  Tertius Valerius said, “You are right, Turnus, from the ground one sometimes sees more than from the ridge of a temple. At your age my palms were calloused and these hands of mine were as broad as shovels. When I see you like that I respect you more than before.”

  I should have realized from that that I was setting forth on a new blind path. Naturally I still was accompanied by Hecate’s luck since she provides aid in small as well as large matters. So when I paused on the bridge to look at the flooding yellow waters of the Tiber, a skittish herd of cattle pushed past me and would have crushed me against the railing if I had not leaped over it in time. The angry cries of the guards added to the confusion, and finally the drover called for help and his half-grown daughter burst into tears. I jumped back onto the bridge and seized the lead bull by the nostrils, squeezing them as hard as I could. The bull tossed his head in vain and finally quieted down as though realizing that he had met his master. Then the entire herd grew calm and obediently followed the bull until we left the bridge and I guided the herd to the side of the road near the slope of Janiculum.

  There I released the bull and wiped the mucus from my hand. The drover approached me limpingly and holding his back, for at the end of the bridge the guard had struck him with the shaft of a spear. He blessed me in the name of Saturn, from which I deduced that he belonged to the simple country people of Rome, while his daughter wiped her tears and hugged her cows.

  The drover seated himself on a hummock and rubbed his back. “Now what, master? I can see from your face that you are not our kind. We are living in bad times and at our master’s command we are taking our cattle to the market at Veii before the Volscians arrive and steal them. They have never been so wild and I do not know how my daughter and I will be able to control them now that my back is hurt.”

  His helplessness touched me and his daughter was a pretty girl although barefooted. “I don’t know much about cattle,” I said readily, “but I am on my way to Veii and in no hurry. I will gladly help you herd your cattle although I don’t know how to milk them.”

  He was greatly cheered by my words. “That new god Mercury must be of some use, after all. As I was about to leave I made a hasty bow at the door of his temple, and look how soon that young and kind god has sent you to my aid.”

  We joined forces and, paced by the slow herd, set off for Veii along the worn road. I picked up a switch but we soon noticed that we made the best progress if I walked ahead with my hand on the lead bull’s neck while the drover and his daughter followed behind, chasing the cows that paused at the roadside. Soon the journey progressed so well that the girl began to sing an old shepherd’s song. The sun shone between the clouds and my mind brightened after the sadness of parting. At dusk I was grateful for the slowness of our journey, for the new shoes were rubbing blisters in my heels. I took off the shoes and flung them over my shoulder. For the first time I felt how gloriously the earth’s dust responds to the steps of a bare foot.

  When darkness fell we found a deserted cattle enclosure whose fence assured us a restful sleep, for otherwise we would have had to guard the cattle alternately. We made a fire to warm us
in the biting dampness of the early spring. Father and daughter began to milk the cows, and when I noticed how painfully the man stooped because of his injured back I offered to help them. Laughingly the girl showed me how to use my hands, and the touch of her tanned fingers thrilled me, not with desire, but merely with the nearness of a young person. I was surprised at the smoothness of her palms and she explained, laughing at my stupidity, that it was caused by milking and milk fat. She said that noble Etruscan women even bathed in milk, but that in her opinion it was a crime against the gods because milk, butter and cheese were intended for human nourishment.

  I said that to me it was as great a crime to let warm milk flow onto the ground.

  The girl became serious and explained, “Necessity knows no law. We could not take any vessels with us and the cows must be milked. Otherwise they will suffer and their udders will become inflamed and we will not get the price that our master demands for them.”

  She glanced at her father and confessed ruefully, “We will hardly get it anyway, for I see by the innumerable hoofprints on the road that all the patricians have had the same idea at the same time. I am afraid that the cattle merchants of Veii will pay whatever they wish for Roman cattle. No matter what price my father obtains for them our master will be dissatisfied and will beat him.”

  “What a severe master you must have,” I observed.

  But the girl immediately began to defend him and said proudly, “He is no more severe than the others. He is a Roman and a patrician.”

  There were not many milch cows and they had a dipper with them so that each of us could drink his fill of warm milk. When he had closed the gate of the pen the drover gathered the cleanest of the straw and said contentedly, “I didn’t expect us to have such a fine bed. Sleep well, master.”

  He removed his mantle and flung himself on the straw, covering himself with the coarse cloth. The girl stretched out beside her father and he covered her likewise.

  When I remained standing in doubt, the girl sat up and urged, “Do lie down, friend. Let us warm one another, for otherwise it will be a cold night.”

  Already in the Ionian war I had learned to sleep side by side with my comrades but this was something new and the smell of manure in the straw was repulsive. To avoid hurting the girl I removed my woolen mantle, lay down beside her and covered myself and her with it. One corner of it even reached her father.

  The girl sniffed the odor of wool in the new mantle, fingered the fabric and said, “You have a fine cloak.” Suddenly she turned around, wound her arm around my neck, pressed her cheek against mine and whispered, “You are a good man.”

  As though ashamed of her outburst she buried her face in my chest and a moment later I realized from her breathing that she had fallea asleep in my arms. Her body warmed mine delightfully as a little bird throbbingly warms the hand. I still felt the quick touch of her cheek on mine and happiness filled me. The night sky grew clear, the stars shone brightly and in the air was the cold breath of the mountains of Veii. I slept more soundly than I had in years, without a dream. So close to the earth and to humans did I become on the first day of my journey.

  The next day as the mountains gleamed and the sky shimmered with sunshine we drove the herd up an increasingly steep road until before us, on an unconquerable mountain, rose splendid Veii, surrounded by its wall. The painted temple roofs with their statues of deities shone from afar. All the while we were met by Roman shepherds, who warned us against continuing our journey since the cattle merchants of Veii were taking advantage of Rome’s plight by paying wretched prices even for the best cattle. They themselves regretted their sales and urged us rather to drive our cattle back, for the rumors of a Volscian attack were probably exaggerated. Very likely it would take a long time for the Volscians to equip a real army that would dare advance within sight of Rome.

  But despite his doubts the drover had to obey his master’s order. Sadly we drove the herd through the massive archway and the guards indicated where we should take the animals. In contrast to Rome, whose walled area included large meadows and swamps, Veii was a closely built great city with little pasturage even in the event of war. Its population was twice that of Rome, its wall longer than Rome’s flimsy wall, and its two main streets, which crossed each other, were broad and straight in comparison to the streets of Rome. They were paved with stone slabs worn deep by the traffic, and the fronts of the houses facing them were ornamented with molded and brightly colored clay statues and decorations. Even the people differed from those in Rome. Their faces were long and fine-featured, they smiled attractively and their clothes were gracefully cut and adorned.

  Hardly had we reached the cattle market when a group of brawny men hastened toward us to inspect the bulls, try the udders of the milch cows and measure the distance between the heifers’ horns. When they had done so they spread their hands in customary dismay, began to criticize the cattle and called them worthless. In wretched Latin they declared that they were at best suited for slaughter and that even their hides had little value. Nevertheless, they hastened to make their offers while glancing at one another surreptitiously. Thus we learned that a large number of cattle merchants had just arrived in Veil from the inland Etruscan cities, tempted by the news that the Romans were selling their cattle at ridiculous prices because of the threat of war. Roman cattle were famous because the Romans had stolen the finest breeding stock during their wars against their neighbors and the Roman patricians were known to be skilled breeders.

  The cattle merchants of Veil had joined forces and until that moment had been paying a low price upon which they had agreed and sharing the cattle that they bought. But the competition offered by the strange merchants broke down the ring of resistance and induced the city’s merchants to compete with the strangers and one another. The last sellers to depart from the city had clenched their fists and sworn to spread the word around Rome that it no longer paid to drive cattle to Veii, hence the cattle merchants feared that they would obtain no more good Roman cattle.

  The injudicious drover would happily have accepted the first offer that met the price set by his master. But when I saw how matters stood I urged him to be calm and pointed out that it was still a long time until sunset. Leisurely we seated ourselves on the ground, ate our bread and cheese, and I called to a peddler for wine which he served from beautifully painted clay cups. The wine cheered our spirits and the weary cattle calmly chewed their cud around us.

  The girl looked at me with smiling eyes. “You brought us good fortune, friend.”

  I remembered then that it was necessary for me to earn my bread among people like the others. And so I suggested to the father, “The bread and cheese you have given me suffice to pay me for my help in driving the cattle safely here. Permit me now to participate in the bargaining. I ask half of whatever amount exceeds the price set by your master. That would seem only just.”

  The drover was not at market for the first time. He had enough peasant shrewdness to reply instantly, “I can drive my own bargains, but I don’t understand the language of these strange Etruscans. You are probably wiser than I anyway and they would not dare to cheat you as much as me. But half the profit is too much for I must think of my master. If you will be content with one fourth I will shake hands on it gratefully.”

  I pretended to hesitate but then extended my hand and we sealed the agreement. That was all I had wanted, for I would have been ashamed to accept more than one fourth of the good man’s profit that would spare him a beating. I rose from the ground and let my tongue sing from the joy of wine. I praised our cattle in Latin and Etruscan and even Greek which was well understood by the Tarquinian merchants. As I sang their praises the bulls, cows and heifers seemed to brighten in my eyes until they were almost like divine cattle, and the merchants began to feel them again with new respect. Finally the merchant who had come the farthest offered the highest price. The others covered their heads as though crushed, but behind the edge of their robes they laughed.


  When we had weighed the silver and computed its equivalent in Roman copper, it became apparent that my eulogies had brought more than twice the price set by the patrician and almost equaled the actual value of the cattle in peacetime. The drover kissed his hands in joy and his daughter began to dance. Unhesitatingly the father paid me one fourth of the profit in good silver and whispered that he had hidden the best bull in the forest where the Volscians would hardly find it. There would be the beginning of a new herd when peace returned.

  I thought it best to leave the drover for I was impatient to become acquainted with the gay and civilized city that differed so greatly from the previous cities I had known. The mountain height made its air fresh and its stone streets had none of the usual vile-smelling rubbish, for all dirt was carried away by sealed sewers under the streets.

  I remained and thrived in Veii until summer, living in a neat inn where no one was unduly curious about me or asked about my comings and goings as was the custom in Greek cities. The silence and courtesy of the service pleased me. When I remembered the noisy and chattering Greek cities I felt as though I were in another, more noble world. In itself the inn was modest and appropriate to my appearance but not even there was it customary to eat with two fingers. Instead, a two-pronged fork was used at meals. From the very beginning the servant brought me a silver fork as though the world contained no thieves.