Rising to his feet, and taking Decimus by the hand, Cæsar set out at once for the Senate, his forebodings banished and his ambitious old brain full of confidence and hope. On his way through the street two persons, one a servant and the other a teacher of logic, made attempts to acquaint him with his danger; and the soothsayer who had urged him to beware of the Ides of March once more repeated his warning. But Cæsar was now in no mood to abandon the prospective excitements of the day; and the risk of assassination may, indeed, have been to him the very element which delighted him, for he was ever inspired by the presence of danger.
Meanwhile the conspirators paced the Portico of Pompey in painful anxiety, fearing every moment to hear that the plot had been discovered. It must have been apparent to them that there were persons outside the conspiracy who knew of their designs; and when a certain Popilius Laena, a senator, not of their number, whispered to Brutus and Cassius that the secret was out, but that he wished them success, their feelings must have been hard to conceal. Then came news that Porcia had fallen into an hysterical frenzy caused by her suspense; and Brutus must have feared that in this condition she would reveal the plot.
At length, however, Cæsar was seen to be approaching; but their consequent relief was at once checked when it was observed that Popilius Laena, who had said that he knew all, entered into deep and earnest conversation with the Dictator. The conversation, however, proved to be of no consequence, and Cæsar presently walked on into the Curia where the Senate was to meet. A certain Trebonius was now set to detain Antony in conversation outside the doorway; for it had been decided that, although the latter was Cæsar’s right-hand man, he should not be murdered, but that, after the assassination, he should be won over to the side of the so-called patriots by fair words.
When Cæsar entered the building the whole Senate rose to their feet in respectful salutation. The Dictator having taken his seat, one of the conspirators, named Tullius Cimber, approached him ostensibly with the purpose of petitioning him to pardon his exiled brother. The others at once gathered round, pressing so close upon him that Cæsar was obliged to order them to stand back. Then, perhaps suspecting their design, he sprang suddenly to his feet, whereupon Tullius caught hold of his toga and pulled it from him, thus leaving his spare frame covered only by a light tunic. Instantly a senator named Casca, whom the Dictator had just honoured with promotion, struck him in the shoulder with his dagger, whereupon Cæsar, grappling with him, cried out in a loud voice, “You villain, Casca! what are you doing?” A moment later, Casca’s brother stabbed him in the side. Cassius, whose life Cæsar had spared after Pharsalia, struck him in the face; Bucolianus drove a knife between his shoulder-blades, and Decimus Brutus, who so recently had encouraged him to come to the Senate, wounded him in the groin. Cæsar fought for his life like a wild animal.[75] He struck out to right and left with his _stilus_, and, streaming with blood, managed to break his way through the circle of knives to the pedestal of the statue of his old enemy Pompey. He had just grasped Casca once more by the arm, when suddenly perceiving his beloved Marcus Brutus coming at him with dagger drawn, he gasped out, “You, too, Brutus--_my son_!” and fell, dying, upon the ground.[76] Instantly the pack of murderers was upon him, slashing and stabbing at his prostrate form, wounding one another in their excitement, and nigh tumbling over him where he lay in a pool of blood.