We all know the story: according to sources, in 509 BC, Rome was besieged by the Etruscan king Lars Porsenna, who attempted to restore Tarquinius Superbus to the city's throne immediately after his expulsion.

A young nobleman, Gaius Mucius Cordus, allegedly volunteered to infiltrate enemy lines—he knew Etruscan, after all—and kill the king. However, according to legend, Mucius was discovered and brought before Porsenna. In front of the king, he burned his right hand on a brazier to punish his failure. Porsenna, moved by the gesture, released him, and the young man claimed that three hundred other young Romans had been tasked with his assassination. After this, the distraught king lifted the siege and began peace negotiations with the Romans. From that moment, the young man supposedly took the surname ex virtute Scaevola, meaning "the left-handed."

Historically, it is highly likely that Porsena ultimately succeeded in breaking Roman resistance but did not reinstate Superbus and his lineage. However, it is fairly certain that Rome remained under Etruscan control for several years before establishing a "stable" republican structure, and was certainly forced to pay an indemnity to the king. Precisely to erase the shame of this defeat, Roman sources abound with episodes related to individual figures who distinguished themselves during the siege, each endowed with powerful symbolism (besides Mucius, it is enough to remember Horatius Cocles and Cloelia). So, what does the myth of Scaevola want to tell us?

Burning his right hand was no accident: it was, in fact, consecrated to fides, the principle that governed Roman conduct in civil, military, and sacred matters. Scaevola, therefore, punished himself not only for failing but also for knowingly breaking the Roman code of war by attempting to exploit intrigue to assassinate the king, even though he was an enemy.