emple, priests and flamens. Inexhaustible Greece was sacked again. The
statues of her gods, disembarked at Rome, were decapitated, and on them
the head of Caius shone.

Heretofore his dress had not been Roman, nor, for that matter, the
dress of a man. On his wrists were bracelets; about his shoulders was a
mantle sewn with gems; beneath was a tunic, and on his feet were the
high white slippers that women wore. But when the god came the costume
changed. One day he was Apollo, the nimbus on his curls, the Graces at
his side; the next he was Mercury, wings at his heels, the caduceus in
his hand; again he was Venus. But it was as Jupiter Latialis, armed
with the thunderbolt and decorated with a great gold beard, that he
appeared at his best.

The role was very real to him. After the fashion of Olympians he became
frankly incestuous, seducing vestals, his sisters too, and gaining in
boldness with each metamorphosis, he menaced the Capitoline Jove.
"Prove your power," he cried to him, "or fear my own!" He thundered at
him with machine-made thunder, with lightning that flashed from a pan.
"Kill me," he shouted, "or I will kill you!" Jove, unmoved, must have
moved his assailant, for presently Caligula lowered his voice,
whispered in the old god's ear, questioned him, meditated on his
answer, grew perplexed, violent again, and threatened to send him home.

These interviews humanized him. He forgot the moon and mingled with
men, inviting them to die. The invitation being invariably accepted, he
became a connoisseur in death, an artist in blood, a ruler to whom
cruelty was not merely an aid to government but an individual pleasure,
and therewith such a perfect lover, such a charming host!

"Dear heart," he murmured to his mistress Pryallis, as she lay one
night in his arms, "I think I will have you tortured that you may tell
me why I love you so." But of that the girl saw no need. She either
knew the reason or invented one, for presently he added: "And to think
that I have but a sign to make and that beautiful head of yours is
off!" Musings of this description were so humorous that one evening he
explained to guests whom he had startled with his laughter, that it was
amusing to reflect how easily he could have all of them killed.

But even to a god life is not an unmixed delight. Caligula had his
troubles. About him there had settled a disturbing quiet. Rome was
hushed, the world was very still. There was not so much as an
ea