It was on these mighty visions, on this dream of Semiramis, that the dreadful thunderbolt of the Ides of March was about to fall.
Morning had just come. Cæsar had left her scarcely an hour before, and in leaving had crushed her to his heart as though he would never let her go. By one of those mysterious forebodings which sometimes come in moments of decisive action and which should never be ignored, she had tried to detain him. "Why are you going so early? You said you were tired. Stay here and rest." But, no, he was expected. For fear lest he be late Brutus had sent Cassius to meet him, and, with no flinching of his traitor face, the latter had told him he must make haste, that there were matters of grave importance awaiting him in the Senate.
And it was there that the blow fell. A sudden noise was heard. "Hark, what was that?" The passers-by halted to ask what had happened. Suddenly the portico was filled with blanched faces. There was a terrifying cry: "Cæsar is assassinated!" Wailing was heard on every side, but it was drowned by the yells of the murderers, who, swords in hand, surged around, shrieking: "We have avenged the honour of the Republic!"
Horrified, not knowing what to believe, the people scattered, like a river that had burst its dam, and spread all over the city. In a moment the frightful news reached all quarters of Rome. Disorder and consternation reigned. The shops were quickly closed; each man hid his terror behind the shutters of his house. All knew that an overwhelming disaster had fallen on Rome and that others, many others, were treading closely on its heels.
To Cleopatra it meant the end of all her hopes. A great black gulf seemed to open at her feet, swallowing in its hungry depths her whole future. The world was a desert.
Gangs of armed men ran along the shores of the Tiber, waving batons surmounted by skull-caps, the Roman symbol of liberty. They paused under the windows of the royal palace. Fierce cries rang out on the air of that fair spring morning.
"Down with the Egyptian woman! Put her to death! Put her to death!" They were the same voices that spring up the world over, in every age, at the sign of revolution. Some attendants gathered around the Queen, eager to defend her; but they were too distracted to afford any certainty of protection.
Apollodorus, alone, whose stern commonsense never deserted him in the most critical moments, spoke quickly, and with authority:
"Your Majesty must quit this bloody town without delay!"
But it was not in Cleopatra's nature to yield to threats, and she rebelled. Her instinct was to resist this mob. Perhaps all was not yet lost. Cæsar would surely have avengers. A party had already formed, with Antony at its head. He had loved the dead Cæsar, and would be likely to respect his wishes, to recognize the young Cæsarion as his lawful son, the proper heir to....