His tastes were now no longer confined to the sports of the chase; but it was the pride of his later years to come forth as a gladiator, and he called himself Hercules. His head which he put on the colossal statue of the god of the Sun, is undoubtedly still preserved, and it is very beautiful. His mad decrees are the dreams of a tyrant. When he wanted, on the Calends of January, to march at the head of the gladiators from the _ludus gladiatorius_ to the Capitol, and thus take possession of the consulship without auspices; he was led in his wrath to proscribe Lætus and Marcia, who had most strongly urged him not to do so. This, however, was betrayed to them by a dwarf; on which Marcia gave Commodus a cup of poison, and she also sent a strong wrestler to strangle him. The senate and people now vented their hatred by cursing and reviling his memory; but the prætorians grumbled, as they were fond of him for his weakness. It was spread abroad that he had died of apoplexy. The _præfectus prætorio_ Lætus now proclaimed old Pertinax, who was already upwards of sixty, emperor. A worthier man than he, could not have been chosen: he had distinguished himself as a brave, although not precisely as a great general; but it was especially for his administrative talent and his sterling character, that he was known and respected. He had Marcus’ virtues without his faults, and he would therefore in time have even excelled him as a ruler; for with all his heart and soul he threw himself into the business of the state. The people rejoiced at his election: but only part of the senators did, as he was not of noble race; and the soldiers tolerated him indeed, but they did not like him. On the first of January 193, he entered upon the government; before the end of March in the same year, he was already murdered.