Gallus nodded to himself as he saw the way the votes in the Assembly were proceeding this day. Nearly all of the proposals which he favored appeared to be headed to defeat.

While the provisions of these various proposals had sparked heated debate and captured the imagination in the short term, Gallus realized that, for himself, anyway, the truly epic battles of his tribunate lay elsewhere. The Plebs had voted overwhelmingly on his Lex to clean up the courts. The stability which that Lex, if implemented properly, would bring would be considerable, and the effects would be lasting ones.

His Senatus Consultum on agrarian reform now before the House (When oh when would Galba move it to the vote?! The time for debate had long since expired, yet...nothing!) had received strong support from Vitulus, and he hoped that he had done his homework sufficiently to allay the concerns even of Corvus and the conservative Patricians. Now that proposal was the one which truly mattered! Though these other measures had sparked passionate debate, none of them touched on issues which had been responsible for such pain, sorrow and bloodshed as had this topic, which had plagued Rome for a generation. No...even if each and every proposal he put forth as Tribune was destined for defeat, pasage of the Senatus Consultum Galla Agri Dispensatio pro Populis--if it ever came to a vote--would more than justify his year in office.

Those standing next to him heard Gallus heave a contented sigh.

Still, there was one proposal which rankled him: Fictitious and his Lex against the Tribunes. Not that Ficitious himself saw it that way. He had proposed his measure as a counter to the proposal to stage a festival sponsored by the Tribunes. The idea had been a lark, born in the exciting aftermath of the Ludi Cerealis, but inconsequential otherwise. Truth be told, Gallus himself had found Fictitious' arguments more than convincing! He would have been happy to withdraw his proposed Lex and simply stage a little celebratory event on his own--as a private citizen--had Fictitious but relented.

But Fictitious had pressed his case for prohibiting any Tribune from sponsoring any event for two years--two years! after his election. Gallus had signaled his willingness to reach some sort of compromise, but Fictitious had rejected the gesture. Well, fair enough. both men were acting honorably, each doing what he thought best for the office of the Tribunes.

Try as he might, though, Gallus couldn't shake the idea that the Lex Fictitia Tribunate was an attack on the Tribunes because it placed heretofore unspecified limits on their rights as free citizens. Was not a Tribune supposed to be on guard against any infringement of the rights of the Plebs, even if those whose rights were threatened happened to be holding political office? No, though this Lex of Fictitious had much to commend itself, as it was currently proposed, it was completely unacceptable to Gallus. He certainly would not vote for such a measure, but how far would he be willing to go to ensure its defeat? Did not the Mos Maiorum give Tribunes their extraordinary power for just such a reason? He remembered well how foolish he had felt in the Senate when he had threatened a veto before fully thinking things through; he wouldn't let such a rash act erupt from him this time. He still had time to think, for the voting was still far from concluded.

One thing of which Gallus was certain: before he cast his vote, he would seek out each of the men who had spoken so eloquently from the Rostra and tell them why he was (or wasn't) supporting their proposal on this day. He didn't mind having opponents, but wanted to make no enemies; telling them his reasons straight-out would be the best way to deal with these noble men, good Romans all.