They had already
made him Dictator for life; they voted next that he really should be King,
and, not formally perhaps, but tentatively, they offered him the crown. He
was sounded as to whether he would accept it. He understood the snare, and
refused. What was to be done next? He would soon be gone to the East. Rome
and its hollow adulations would lie behind him, and their one opportunity
would be gone also. They employed some one to place a diadem on the head
of his statue which stood upon the Rostra.[18] It was done publicly, in
the midst of a vast crowd, in Caesar's presence. Two eager tribunes tore
the diadem down, and ordered the offender into custody. The treachery of
the Senate was not the only danger. His friends in the army had the same
ambition for him. A few days later, as he was riding through the streets,
he was saluted as King by the mob. Caesar answered calmly that he was not
King but Caesar, and there the matter might have ended; but the tribunes
rushed into the crowd to arrest the leaders; a riot followed, for which
Caesar blamed them; they complained noisily; he brought their conduct
before the Senate, and they were censured and suspended. But suspicion was
doing its work, and honest republican hearts began to heat and kindle.
The kingship assumed a more serious form on the 15th of February at the
Lupercalia--the ancient carnival.
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