Quintus Volscius, one of the candidates for Tribune, stood on the rostra once more. He gazed down at the packed Forum with satisfaction; many of the assembled voters were farmers from outside the City, a potential source of votes for him, he thought. But maybe he should just clinch things by saying a few more words? Receiving an affirmative nod and a quizzical look from Asiaticus, he began to speak.

”Citizens,

It’s a real pleasure to see such a dense crowd here today!

(Roars of laughter from the voters.)

”No, I mean…well you know what I mean. I confess that for me a speech is like a baby – easy to conceive but hard to deliver.

”Anyway, I really wanted to address myself to the farmers in the audience. I want to assure you that I am one of you at heart. I come from the country myself so I know how to milk a cow; I know how to plough a field; I know how to reap the corn. In fact I don’t think there is anything about a farm I cannot do.”

(Heckler: Can you lay an egg?)

(A large and very rotten egg sails out of the crowd and hits Volscius on the nose. He wipes the mess off calmly.)

“I’ve always known that the arguments of my opponents were thoroughly bad!

”To continue, Quirites,…”

(Jeers, yells and laughter threaten to drown out what Volscius is saying, so he steps back looking baffled.)

Asiaticus: Take a word of advice from a more experienced politician, young man – don’t let the audience worry you, think of them as your family.

Volscius: But what if my family boos me?

Asiaticus: Ignore it, who cares what your relatives think!

(Volscius starts again.)

”Citizens, it has been said that I am controversial. That is not so, it’s merely that a number of ill-informed people disagree with me. My message to you is clear and simple – if you want the country voter to have more say over what goes on here during the year, vote for me! ”