Puteoli."

Within three months this remarkable career came to a sudden and violent
end. There were some enemies whom all Caesar's clemency and kindness had
not conciliated. Some hated him for private reasons of their own, some
had a genuine belief that if he could be put out of the way, Rome might
yet again be a free country. The people too, who had been perfectly
ready to submit to the reality of power, grew suspicious of some of its
outward signs. The name of King had been hateful at Rome since the last
bearer of it, Tarquin the Proud, had been driven out nearly seven
centuries before. There were now injudicious friends, or, it may be,
judicious enemies, who were anxious that Caesar should assume it. The
prophecy was quoted from the books of the Sibyl, that Rome might conquer
the Parthians if she put herself under the command of a king; otherwise
she must fail. On the strength of this Caesar was saluted by the title
of King as he was returning one day from Alba to the Capitol. The
populace made their indignation manifest, and he replied, "I am no king,
only Caesar;" but it was observed that he passed on with a gloomy air.
He bore himself haughtily in the Senate, not rising to acknowledge the
compliments paid to him. At the festival of the Lupercalia, as he sat
looking on at the sports in a gilded chair and clad in a triumphal robe,
Antony offered him a crown wreathed with bay leaves. Some applause
followed; it was not general, however, but manifestly got up for the
occasion. Caesar put the crown away, and the shout that followed could
not be misunderstood. It was offered again, and a few applauded as
before, while a second rejection drew forth the same hearty approval.
His statues were found with crowns upon them. These two tribunes
removed, and at the same time ordered the imprisonment of the men who
had just saluted him as king. The people were delighted, but Caesar had
them degraded from their office. The general dissatisfaction thus caused
induced the conspirators to proceed. Warnings, some of which we may
suppose to have come from those who were in the secret, were not
wanting. By these he was wrought upon so much that he had resolved not
to stir from his house on the day which he understood was to be fatal to
him; but Decimus Brutus, who was in the plot, dissuaded him from his
purpose. The scene that followed may be told once again in the words in
which Plutarch describes it: "Artemidoros, of Cnidus, a teacher o