As usual, the responsibility for these evil schemes fell on Cleopatra. The hatred of her was redoubled. Her enemies invented fantastic tales and circulated the dreadful accusation that she sealed her oaths with the avowal: "As surely as that one day I shall rule Rome." When they heard this the wrath of the multitude overflowed. When her litter appeared in the street, there was a riot. On every hand there were threats of compelling this Egyptian interloper to leave the country, of forcing her to return to her own land of crocodiles! These disrespectful speeches naturally came to Cæsar's ears. They angered him more than the criticisms of his own conduct. To dare to desecrate the sacred one whom he had chosen! To approach her with lack of reverence! It was not to be tolerated! Alluding to a special group which had offended him, he exclaimed: "You shall see the penalty that I will inflict on those greasy, curly-pated slanderers!" He immediately summoned Timomachus, who for the past month had been working on a statue of the Queen, made of ivory overlaid with gold. "How long will it take to finish that piece of sculpture?" he demanded. The sculptor reflected, estimated the time needed for the required incrustations of gold, which were not even begun, and answered, awkwardly, "Twenty years, at least." "I will give you three days," declared the Dictator. "In three days I desire that statue to be placed on its pillar in the temple of Venus-Genitrix." The autocratic temper of Cæsar, which frequently brought on violent crises owing to his delicate, over-wrought nerves, was too well known for any one to dare to oppose his wishes. The dedication of the statue took place with great ceremony on the day specified, and with rage in their hearts, priests, noblemen, officers of all ranks were compelled to bow before this new goddess who had invaded their temple.