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“You regard the new Pontifex Maximus!” he cried from the doorway, hands clasped above his head.
“Oh, Caesar!” she said, and wept.
Nothing else could have unmanned him, for in all his life he could never remember her shedding a tear. He gulped, face collapsing, stumbled into the room and lifted her to her feet, his arms about her, her arms about him, both of them weeping.
“Not even for Cinnilla,” he said when he was able.
“I did, but not in front of you.”
― Caesar's Women
“Oh, Caesar!” she said, and wept.
Nothing else could have unmanned him, for in all his life he could never remember her shedding a tear. He gulped, face collapsing, stumbled into the room and lifted her to her feet, his arms about her, her arms about him, both of them weeping.
“Not even for Cinnilla,” he said when he was able.
“I did, but not in front of you.”
― Caesar's Women
“And yet,” said Servilia slowly, “when Silanus died something went out of the room. I didn’t see it go, I didn’t hear it. But it went, Caesar. The room was empty.”
“I suppose what went was an idea.”
“An idea?”
“Isn’t that what all of us are, an idea?”
“To ourselves, or to others?”
“To both, though not necessarily the same idea.”
― Caesar's Women
“I suppose what went was an idea.”
“An idea?”
“Isn’t that what all of us are, an idea?”
“To ourselves, or to others?”
“To both, though not necessarily the same idea.”
― Caesar's Women
“For thirty years and more,” he said to the slack featured Vatia and Appius Claudius, “I have denied my nature. I have denied myself love and pleasure at first for the sake of my name and my ambition, and later when these had run their course for the sake of Rome. But it is over. Over, over, over! I hereby give Rome back to you to all you little, cocksure, maggot minded men! You are at liberty once more to vent your spleen on your poor country to elect the wrong men, to spend the public moneys foolishly, to think not beyond tomorrow and your own gigantic selves. In the thirty years of one generation I predict that you and those who succeed you will bring ruin beyond redemption upon Rome’s undeserving head!”
― Fortune's Favorites
― Fortune's Favorites
“Listen to the great Pompeius, who was consul before he so much as qualified to stand as a mere tribune of the plebs! Who do you think you are? What, you don’t even know? Then allow me to tell you! An unconstitutional, unprincipled, un-Roman lump of arrogance and fancy, that’s what you are! As to who—you’re a Gaul who thinks like a Gaul—a butcher who is the son of a butcher—a pander who sucks up to patricians to be let negotiate marriages far above him—a ponce who adores to dress up prettily to hear the crowd goo and gush—an eastern potentate who loves to live in palaces—a king who queens it—an orator who could send a rutting ram to sleep—a politician who has to employ competent politicians—a radical worse than the Brothers Gracchi—a general who hasn’t fought a battle in twenty years without at least twice as many troops as the enemy—a general who prances in and picks up the laurels after other and better men have done all the real work—a consul who had to have a book of instructions to know how to act—AND A MAN WHO EXECUTED ROMAN CITIZENS WITHOUT TRIAL”
― Caesar's Women
― Caesar's Women
“Thus it was Caesar felt Brutus’s pain, not Servilia. Never conquered by a woman as Julia had conquered Brutus, he could yet understand exactly what Julia had meant to Brutus, and he found himself wondering whether if he had known he would have had the courage to kill like this. But yes, Caesar, you would have. You’ve killed before and you’ll kill again. Yet rarely eye to eye, as now. The poor, poor fellow! He won’t recover. He first wanted my daughter when he was fourteen years old, and he has never changed or wavered. I have killed him—or at least killed what his mother has left alive. How awful to be the rag doll between two savages like Servilia and me.”
― Caesar's Women
― Caesar's Women
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