Although the women had been afraid of the Volscians, Arsinoe’s enthusiasm and fearlessness had been contagious and some twenty patrician women had followed her as she herself led the swaying Veturia and the weeping Volumnia and her sons. The soldiers, remembering Arsinoe’s hot soup and friendly visits, had opened the gates before the Senate had had time to forbid such a foolhardy venture.
The shivering and hungry Volscians had been so amazed by the arrival of the women that they had gladly accepted the meat and bread in the women’s baskets, and led them in a festive procession to the camp and Coriolanus’ tent. There the women had gathered about a fire to warm themselves, for it was night before Coriolanus consented to see his mother and sons. There by the fire Arsinoe had told the women in confidence about her goddess and assured them that as a final resort she herself, with the aid of the goddess, would persuade Coriolanus.
Finally Coriolanus had admitted the women into his tent. His mother had tearfully cursed her son and declared that she would have strangled him in his crib with her own hands had she known that she had given birth to a traitor. Volumnia for her part had thrust forward her sons and demanded whether he intended to destroy his own sons’ fatherland.
Coriolanus, who was a handsome man and a head taller than the other Romans, had listened patiently while glancing with curiosity at Arsinoe, who stood with shyly bowed head. But if I knew her she surely made certain that Coriolanus saw her red-gold curls and white neck and probably she had even allowed her robe to slip open.
At length Coriolanus had spoken a few sharp words to his mother and wife and declared that unless the women had more sensible things to say he would send them back to the city. At that point the women had pushed forward a modest Arsinoe and urged her to call upon her goddess. Arsinoe had explained that to do that she had to be alone with Coriolanus in his tent. And so he had dismissed the women and his guards.
More than that was not known about the conversation between Arsinoe and Coriolanus, but she had remained in his tent until dawn. When she finally appeared, exhausted from her efforts to persuade Coriolanus, she had urged the women to praise the goddess Venus and her power, and had fallen unconscious into their arms. Coriolanus had not appeared at all but had courteously sent guards to escort the women to the city. That same day he had given the order to lift the siege.
Whether the ending of the siege was due to Arsinoe and her goddess I dare not say. On the basis of what I heard I concluded that the Vol-scian army was incapable of storming the Roman wall and did not even wish to try. Also, autumn was far advanced and no nation of Latium could endure a winter war. Coriolanus was an able commander and even without the intervention of the women would surely have dispersed his army before winter.
With or without reason Veturia and Volumnia achieved fame as a result of the event and willingly shared their glory with Arsinoe. They received the public thanks of the Senate as the saviors of the city and from that moment Arsinoe was a famous woman in Rome, and her goddess and secret knowledge were respected.
I did not see Arsinoe for many months and did not even walk by Tertius Valerius’ house, for due to her condition Arsinoe secluded herself. She gave birth in the hottest time of the summer. A slave whom I had bribed brought me word of it and the long hours seemed unbearable to me because I could not be with her. Despite all she had done to me I loved her and nothing could quench my devotion to her.
But during our separation my love had matured and I no longer thought of her so much as a woman to whom desire had bound me but as a person who had become near to me. I remembered how she had made me laugh in my moments of depression and how I had sat for hours watching her as she had skillfully cared for her beauty, chattering gaily the while about people and things. I did not wish harm to come to her no matter what she did because I understood her, her lies and her need for security.
Her delivery was difficult and lasted through a day and a night, for the boy weighed ten pounds. When he finally came into the world a hailstorm broke in the midst of the heat and lightning flashed wildly. But it was not my doing even though my heart was in an upheaval because of Arsinoe.
When he heard the howls of the male child who had been born to life’s pain, when he felt the weight in his lap, Tertius Valerius became delirious with joy and sacrificed bulls, sheep and pigs in various temples as though a state event had occurred. Some of the meat he distributed to the people, some he sent to his farms, and gave the slaves a holiday since they could hardly have worked in the fields anyway because of the storm.
Arsinoe, as an exemplary Roman mother, nursed her child herself and did not appear in public until her appearance and beauty had been restored. But when autumn came I saw her sitting in the place of honor at the circus immediately behind the vestals and near the ivory seat of Manius Valerius. I could see her only from a distance since I myself was seated on the opposite side among the aliens and the artisans of foreign origin, but she was still as beautiful as the goddess and I watched her more than the events in the arena.
But I did not seek her out to speak to her for I had no wish to disturb her peace. Time passed and the boy was already a year old when I again saw Arsinoe.
2.
It was late summer and the city was quiet, for the people worked busily in the fields and those who had remained in the city sought the shade and moved about only after nightfall. The stench of filth, rotten fruit and tanned hides filled the narrow streets of Suburra. And Fortune continued to smile on Rome, for the Volsci, having allied themselves with the Aequi against Rome, had fallen out with them and waged a bitter war, thus exhausting their own strength and that of the Aequi so that Rome had nothing to fear from either.
I was teaching a young dancer from the circus the movements of the Etruscans’ holy wreath dance when Arsinoe unexpectedly appeared in my room in Suburra. It was not my fault that the girl had nothing on, for the day was hot and besides it is best for a dancer to be naked when practicing in order to know her own body. Nevertheless I wanted to sink into the ground when I saw how Arsinoe looked first at me and then at the poor girl who did not realize that she was doing anything wrong. In her innocence the girl did not even have the wit to cover herself with a robe but remained standing with bent knee and upraised palms in the position I was attempting to teach her.
Arsinoe was her old self but riper and more beautiful than before. Sarcastically she said, “Forgive me, Turms. I don’t wish to disturb your pleasure but I must talk with you and today was my only opportunity.”
With trembling hands I picked up the girl’s cheap clothes, thrust them into her arms, pushed her out and closed the squeaking wooden door. Arsinoe seated herself on my unadorned seat without permission, looked around, sighed deeply and shook her head.
“I am sorry for you, Turms,” she lamented. “Although I heard that you had fallen into bad company I did not believe it all but tried to think well of you. But now I must believe my own eyes and I am grieved.”
Bitterness choked my throat as I watched her sitting as calmly before me as though nothing had happened. “I have lived a bad life and fallen into bad company,” I admitted. “I was teaching Greek to some stupid boys and happened to teach them Hipponax’s verse: ‘A man has two fortunate days in his life, one when he is married and the other when he lays his wife in her tomb.’ Hipponax lived in Ephesus, which is why those lines have remained in my memory. But the parents did not appreciate such teaching and I lost my pupils.”