Moreover, in order that there should be no mistake in regard to the respect due Cleopatra and her son, Cæsar had installed them in the palace which he had just had built on the left side of the Tiber, overlooking the magnificent gardens along the edge of the hill of Janiculum; those gardens which were left to the populace in his will, which generous gift the day after his death brought the people to their knees, in tears, to look upon his blood-stained toga. On finding herself, at last, the honoured guest of Rome, Cleopatra felt that keen pleasure of achievement which follows a hard struggle for success. In spite of all obstacles she had, to her entire satisfaction, accomplished the first part of her undertaking. But the essential thing, the real triumph, was yet to be carried out. She must bind her lover by that long-desired marriage which would make her twice a Queen. For a woman of her talent, accustomed to using her varied powers of fascination to gain her ends, the present situation was ideal. Rome, from the very moment that she had entered its gates, had ceased to be the austere stronghold, where each and every citizen, faithful to his Lares and Penates, was steadfast in revering ancient traditions. These traditions, which had made the strength and greatness of the Republic as well as its formidable power, were already losing their hold. The old religion was passing; although still acknowledged by the State, unbelievers were many, especially among the Aristocracy. If the people had still a certain fear of the gods, this did not prevent them from breaking the laws of their deities, or from desecrating their temples in moments of passion. The story of the cynical soldier who boasted of having stolen the statue of Diana and of having made a fortune by this godless act was a common tale. The inviolability of the marriage law was a thing of the past. On every hand, Senators, Consuls, high dignitaries, put away their wives on the slightest pretext. Cicero himself, the best, the gentlest of men, said to Terentia, his wife for thirty years, the cruel words of divorcement: "Go hence and take with you whatever belongs to you," in order to put a younger, more beautiful woman in her place.