gardens of his that lay beyond the Tiber, it may be that he
recalled a dream which had come to him as a lad; one which
concerned the submission of his mother; one which had disturbed
him until the sooth-sayers said: "The mother you saw is the earth,
and you will be her master." And as the memory of the dream
returned, perhaps with it came the memory of the hour when as
simple quaestor he had wept at Gaddir before a statue that was
there. Demi-god, yes; he was that. More, even; he was dictator,
but the dream was unfulfilled. There were the depths of Hither
Asia, the mysteries that lay beyond; there were the glimmering
plains of the Caucasus; there were the Vistula and the Baltic; the
diadems of Cyrus and of Alexander defying his ambition yet, and
what were triumphs and divinity to one who would own the world!

It was this that preoccupied him. The immensity of his successes
seemed petty and Rome very small. Heretofore he had forgiven those
who had opposed him. Presently his attitude changed, and so subtly
that it was the more humiliating; it was not that he no longer
forgave, he disdained to punish. His contempt was absolute. The
senate made his office of pontifix maximus hereditary and accorded
the title of Imperator to his heirs. He snubbed the senate and the
honors that it brought. The senate was shocked. Composed of men
whose fortunes he had made, the senate was not only shocked, its
education in ingratitude was complete. Already there had been
murmurs. Not content with disarranging the calendar, outlining an
empire, drafting a code while planning fresh beauties, new
theatres, bilingual libraries, larger temples, grander gods,
Caesar was at work in the markets, in the kitchens of the
gourmets, in the jewel-boxes of the virgins. Liberty, visibly, was
taking flight. Besides, the power concentrated in him might be so