Cicero reached the spot he had struggled to gain. Julius Caesar was lying on the white stones; he had covered his body with his cloak. He was bleeding from a dozen wounds. And he, dying, was staring up at those who had assassinated him. But then his clouding eyes sought the face of but one, and he said in a faint breath, “And you, Brutus.” He died at the foot of the statue of Pompey.
