TALES OF THE ROMANS
He looked at the water; he looked at his friends. At last he plunged his horse into the stream, crying:
“The die is cast!”
Cæsar marched toward Rome—stern, calm, strong, like the rise of a tide which no man can stay.
In and out of the gates of Rome rushed people, on foot, on horseback, or carried in litters.
“We are for Cæsar!” cried some.
“We are for Pompey!” cried others.
“We are for the patricians!” cried some.
“We are for the plebs!” cried others.
Thus the city was divided.
A Roman gentleman went to Pompey and said, with a sneer:
“Stamp with your foot, sir! You said once that, if you only did that, an army would spring up!”
Pompey did not stamp. He fled to the coast, and crossed the sea, and prepared the troops who gathered about him for the last stand against Cæsar.
Now that he was master of Italy, Cæsar went over to Spain, and put down all men who sided with Pompey.
And now that he was master also of Spain he returned to Italy, was made consul by the Romans, and then set out to meet Pompey. So fast did he
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