buted to fill up the measure of the
calamities of Rome. The first could be only imputed to the just
indignation of the gods; but a monopoly of corn, supported by the riches
and power of the minister, was considered as the immediate cause of
the second. The popular discontent, after it had long circulated in
whispers, broke out in the assembled circus. The people quitted their
favorite amusements for the more delicious pleasure of revenge,
rushed in crowds towards a palace in the suburbs, one of the emperor's
retirements, and demanded, with angry clamors, the head of the public
enemy. Cleander, who commanded the Praetorian guards, ordered a body
of cavalry to sally forth, and disperse the seditious multitude. The
multitude fled with precipitation towards the city; several were slain,
and many more were trampled to death; but when the cavalry entered the
streets, their pursuit was checked by a shower of stones and darts from
the roofs and windows of the houses. The foot guards, who had been long
jealous of the prerogatives and insolence of the Praetorian cavalry,
embraced the party of the people. The tumult became a regular
engagement, and threatened a general massacre. The Praetorians, at
length, gave way, oppressed with numbers; and the tide of popular fury
returned with redoubled violence against the gates of the palace, where
Commodus lay, dissolved in luxury, and alone unconscious of the civil
war. It was death to approach his person with the unwelcome news. He
would have perished in this supine security, had not two women, his
eldest sister Fadilla, and Marcia, the most favored of his concubines,
ventured to break into his presence. Bathed in tears, and with
dishevelled hair, they threw themselves at his feet; and with all the
pressing eloquence of fear, discovered to the affrighted emperor the
crimes of the minister, the rage of the people, and the impending
ruin, which, in a few minutes, would burst over his palace and person.
Commodus started from his dream of pleasure, and commanded that the head
of Cleander should be thrown out to the people. The desired spectacle
instantly appeased the tumult; and the son of Marcus might even yet have
regained the affection and confidence of his subjects.

But every sentiment of virtue and humanity was extinct in the mind of
Commodus. Whilst he thus abandoned the reins of empire to these unworthy
favorites, he valued nothing in sovereign power, except the unbounded
license of