Cæsar did not live to see his reforms consummated. He was murdered, perhaps because he had refused to murder. In a few months after he had brought the civil war to an end he fell the victim of assassins. The story of his death is famous in Roman history, and must here be told.
After his triumphs Cæsar, who had been dictator twice before, was named dictator for the term of ten years. He was also made censor for three years. These offices gave him such unlimited power that he was declared absolute master of the lives and fortunes of the citizens and subjects of Rome. Imperator men called him, a term we translate emperor, and after his return from Spain, where he overthrew the last army of his foes, the senate named him dictator and imperator for life.
These high honors were not sufficient for Cæsar's ambition. He wished to be made king. He had no son of his own, but desired to make his power hereditary, and chose his grandnephew Octavius as his heir. But he was to find the people resolutely bent on having no king over Rome.
To try their temper some of his friends placed a crown on his statue in the Forum. Two of the tribunes tore it off, and the crowd loudly applauded. Later, at the festival of the Alban Mount, some voices in the crowd hailed him as king. But the mutterings of the multitude grew so loud, that he quickly cried, "I am no king, but Cæsar."
At the feast of the Lupercalia, on February 15, he was approached by Marc Antony, as he sat in his golden chair, and offered an embroidered band, such as the sovereigns of Asia wore on their heads. The crowd failed to applaud, and Cæsar pushed it aside. Then the multitude broke out in a roar of applause. Again and again he rejected the glittering bauble, and again the people broke into loud cries of approval. It was evident that they would have no king. At a later date it was moved in the senate that Cæsar should be king in the provinces; but he died before this decree could be put in effect.
There was discontent at Rome. Even the clemency of Cæsar had made him enemies, for there were many who hoped to profit by proscription. His justice made foes among those who wished to grow rich through extortion and oppression. He secluded himself while engaged on his reforms, and this lost him popularity. A conspiracy was organized against him by a soldier named Caius Cassius and others of the discontented. For leader they selected Marcus Junius Brutus, who believed himself a descendant of the Brutus of old, and was won to their plot by being told that, while his great ancestor had expelled the last king of Rome, he was resting content under the rule of a new king.
Brutus, at length convinced that Cæsar was seeking to overthrow the Roman republic, and that patriotism required him to emulate the famous Brutus of old, joined the conspiracy, which now included more than sixty persons, most of whom had received benefits and honors from the man they wished to kill. But no considerations of gratitude prevailed; they determined on Cæsar's death; and the meeting of the senate called for the Ides of March (March 15) was fixed for the time and place of the projected murder.
The morning of that day seemed full of omens and warnings. The secret was oozing out. Cæsar received more than one intimation of impending danger. A soothsayer had even bidden him to "beware of the Ides of March." During the preceding night his wife was so disturbed by dreams that in the morning she begged him not to go that day to the senate, as she was sure some peril was at hand. Her words failed to trouble Cæsar's resolute mind, but to quiet her apprehensions he agreed not to go, and directed Marc Antony to preside over the senate in his stead.
When this word was brought to the assembled senate the conspirators were in despair. Their secret was known to too many to remain a secret long. Even a day's delay might be fatal. An hour might put Cæsar on his guard. What was to be done? Unless their victim could be brought to the senate chamber all would be lost.