The Etruscan Read Free Page A

she changed into the rosy-cheeked Dione who had carved her name on an apple before tossing it to me. Then Dione faded and gave way to the black face of the statue of Artemis which had dropped from the sky at Ephesus. Again the face changed to that of a comely woman of whom I had only a dreamlike glimpse before she faded into the mists. Then I was staring into the violent eyes of the Pythia once more.
    “I also know you,” I said.
    She would have embraced me had not the attendants restrained her. Her left hand reached toward me, touching my chest, and I felt strength flow into me from her hand.
    “This youth is mine,” she declared, “consecrated or not. Do not touch him. Whatever he may have done he has done in fulfillment of divine will, not his own. He is guiltless.”
    The priests muttered among themselves. “These are not divine words, for she is not seated on the sacred tripod. This is a false ecstasy. Take her away.”
    But she was stronger than her attendants and began to rage defiantly. “I see the smoke of fires beyond the sea. This man came with soot on his hands and face and with burns on his loins, but I have purified him. Hence he is pure and free to go and come as he wishes.”
    That much she spoke clearly and intelligently. Then she lapsed into a convulsion, foamed at the mouth and fell unconscious into the arms of her attendants, who carried her away.
    The priests gathered around me, trembling and alarmed. “We must discuss this among ourselves,” they said. “But fear not. The oracle has freed you, and obviously you are not an ordinary human since she went into a sacred ecstasy at the mere sight of you. However, because she was not seated on the sacred tripod, we cannot record her utterances. But we will bear them in mind.”
    They took laurel-wood ashes from the altar, rubbed my hands and feet with them and led me out of the temple. Servants meanwhile had brought my muddy clothes and pack from the edge of the fountain. When the priests fingered the fine wool of my robe they realized that I was not a lowly person. They were even more reassured when I handed them a purse rilled with the lion-headed gold coins of Miletus and some silver stamped with the Ephesian bee. And I gave them also the two sealed wax tablets containing testimony on my behalf which they promised to read and thereafter question me.
    So I spent the night in a sparsely furnished room and in the morning the servants came to me and advised me how to fast and purify myself so that my tongue and heart would be pure when I again confronted the priests.
5.
    As I ascended to the deserted stadium of Delphi I saw the flash of a javelin, although the shadow of the mountain already lay heavy across the field. Again it flashed, rising into the air like an omen. Then I saw a youth, no older than myself but sturdier, running lightly to retrieve it.
    I watched him as I ran around the track. His face was sullen, his body bore an ugly scar, and his muscles were knotty. Yet he exuded such an air of confidence and strength that I thought him to be the handsomest youth I had ever seen.
    “Run with me!” I shouted. “I am tired of competing against myself.”
    He thrust the javelin into the ground and ran to join me. “Now!” he cried, and we set forth. Being lighter than he, I thought that I would win easily, but he ran effortlessly and it was all I could do to win by a hand.
    We were both breathless and panting, although we tried to conceal it. “You run well,” he conceded. “Now let us throw the javelin.”
    He had a Spartan javelin, and as I balanced it in my hand I strove not to show that I was unaccustomed to its weight. I gathered momentum and threw the javelin better than I had ever thrown before. It flew even farther than I had hoped, and as I ran to retrieve it and mark the throw I could not restrain a smile. I was still smiling when I extended the javelin to the youth, but he threw it effortlessly many lengths beyond my mark.
    “What