Personally he cared nothing for these sanguinary exhibitions, and he
displayed his indifference ostentatiously by reading or writing while the
butchery was going forward.[8] But he required the favor of the
multitude, and then, as always, took the road which led most directly to
his end. The noble lords watched him suspiciously, and their uneasiness
was not diminished when, not content with having produced the insignia of
Marius at his aunt's funeral, he restored the trophies for the victories
over the Cimbri and Teutons, which had been removed by Sylla. The name of
Marius was growing every day more dear to the popular party. They forgave,
if they had ever resented, his credulities. His veterans who had fought
with him through his campaigns came forward in tears to salute the honored
relics of their once glorious commander.
As he felt the ground stronger under his feet, Caesar now began to assume
an attitude more peremptorily marked. He had won a reputation in the
Forum; he had spoken in the Senate; he had warmly advocated the
appointment of Pompey to his high commands; and he was regarded as a
prominent democratic leader. But he had not aspired to the tribunate; he
had not thrown himself into politics with any absorbing passion. His
exertions had been intermittent, and he was chiefly known as a brilliant
member of fashionable society, a peculiar favorite with women, and
remarkable for his abstinence from the coarse debauchery which disgraced
his patrician contemporaries.
Pages:
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187