While he was dictator, Sulla not only changed the laws to suit his own purposes, but he also altered the house of the law-makers. He both improved and enlarged the Curia, and in so doing, the old statues of Alcibiades and Pythagoras were taken away to make room for the more spacious building. And about this time the Curia was adorned with another painting, one brought by the magistrates, Murena and Varro, from Lacedæmon, a city of Greece. Now this work of art was very curious, for the picture, having formed part of the decoration of a wall, the plaster on which it was painted had been carefully removed, and carried to Rome protected by wooden frames. The Romans looked upon the picture with great interest, admiring it as much for the skill by which it had been brought so far as for the beauty of the work itself.

Yet another work of art was added to the Comitium by Lucullus, who led the Romans against Mithridates, king of Pontus, a country of Asia Minor. As a part of his great spoils, he brought back to Rome a statue of Hercules, the mighty conqueror, before whom all triumphant warriors rendered their thank-offerings. And on the Comitium, near the Rostra, this statue was placed as a fit symbol of the strength and the success of Roman arms.

But although the Romans had formed a taste for art, and their houses were now made far less simply than before, the chief building of the government, the Curia, still remained severely plain. And the spirit of the senators was in accord with their building, for, in a letter to one of his friends, Cicero, the famous orator, tells of their great frugality. No matter how cold the weather, so he writes, the senators had no fire in the Curia, and once, upon a bitter winter's day, when they had met on a matter of special importance, the Speaker was forced to dismiss the members, the chill being so great that none could bear it. So the senators left the Curia, to the vast amusement of the people, among whom even the farmers had fires to heat their homes during the cold days of the winter.

Now this same Cicero, Rome's most able orator, was an honest man, a great patriot, but, withal, a determined enemy; and as he denounced his opponents without mercy, even so was he deeply hated in return. During his entire lifetime Rome was disturbed, divided between sets of men whose leaders schemed continually to overthrow the Senate, and to form a government of their own. Riots occurred day after day, and more than once the Forum was red with blood.

At one time Cicero was forced to leave Italy because of the evil designs of one of his adversaries, the tribune Clodius Pulcher, a bad, malicious man. And while the great statesman was in exile, Quintus, his brother, returned to Rome from the province of Asia, over which he had been governor for three years. He was met by many citizens belonging to Cicero's party, and at their suggestion, promised to appear in the Forum to entreat the men of Rome to recall his brother. But when he arrived at the Rostra by dawn of the next day, Quintus found the Comitium and the Curia already in the possession of men sent by Clodius. Before he could utter a word, he was dragged down from the Rostra, and a violent fight took place between his followers and the armed men and slaves of Clodius. Many were slain, still more were wounded, and Quintus himself saved his life only by hiding beneath the corpses that were lying in heaps about the place. On that awful day the Tiber was filled with dead bodies, the great sewers were choked, and the blood was wiped up from the Forum with large sponges.

Yet so hardened were the hearts of the Romans, and so used were they to the horrid sight of human blood, that when two citizens arrived in the Forum after this terrible slaughter, they looked unmoved upon the scene and upon the blood that ran freely in the gutters, and calmly said, the one to the other:—

"Surely, many gladiators have fought, and a show of great magnificence has been held! No Plebeian entertainment was this, but a celebration by a magistrate or a Patrician of high rank. Whose think you may it have been?"

Within a year, however, Cicero's fortune changed, and he was called back to Rome, where he was received with much rejoicing, and where he lived to see the downfall of his foe. For Clodius, although the favourite of the mob, had many enemies, chief among whom was a tribune named Milo, a man who, for his own advancement, had taken sides with Cicero. Both Clodius and Milo, as they went about the city, were constantly attended by bands of armed ruffians that attacked one another in the streets, in the Forum, or wherever they happened to meet. For the government was crushed, the Senate was helpless, and there were none to enforce the law. Rome was without a master, and Justice had fled before unchecked Crime. At last one day, as Clodius was returning to Rome, and Milo was leaving the city, they passed each other on the Appian Way, a road leading out into the country. A fray followed in which Clodius was killed; and his body, left in contempt on the spot where it had fallen, was found by a senator, who caused it to be carried to Rome and placed on the Rostra. Indignant at the death of their favourite, the people gathered about in wildly excited throngs, while those magistrates that were on the side of Clodius made fiery speeches to the already maddened multitude. Then the people rose in a fury, and bore the corpse into the Curia, that it might lie in state in the very highest place of the government, and thus the Senate be insulted and defied.

And then, their rage waxing even greater, the most reckless of the mob gathered together the benches and the desks of the Curia, and made of them a funeral pyre. Upon this they placed the body of Clodius, and, amidst frantic cries, set the pyre in flames; whereupon the crowds rushed forth into the Forum with the wildest shouts of exultation.

With the burning of this wretched man's body, the old Curia Hostilia was destroyed, as were several other buildings. Thus, in the fire of lawless tumult, fell the ancient government of Rome; and thus, in the ashes of disgrace, ended the Republic. The State gave way to the statesman; the rights of the people became second to the glory of the ruler; for when the Senate-house was rebuilt, it bore the name of Julius Cæsar, Rome's greatest master, and within the new Curia Julia, the senators met but as the servants of the emperor.