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Updated: June 18, 2025
On entering, and finding her sitting with her daughter-in-law, nursing the children of Marcius, Valeria placed her companions in a circle round them, and spoke as follows: "Volumnia, and you, Virgilia, we have come to you, as women to women, without any decree of the Senate or instructions from a magistrate; but Heaven, it would appear, has heard our prayers, and has inspired us with the idea of coming hither to beg of you to save our countrymen, and to gain for yourselves greater glory than that of the Sabine women when they reconciled their husbands and their fathers.
My anything; pet secretary messenger I don't know what." "You like to have her about you, as you would like to have a flower, or a bird, or a picture, or a poodle no, not a poodle, though or anything else that was equally pretty?" says Volumnia, sympathizing. "Yes, how charming now! And how well that delightful old soul Mrs. Rouncewell is looking.
Bucket sympathetically, "but it'll wear off." Volumnia wishes of all things to know what is doing? Whether they are going to convict, or whatever it is, that dreadful soldier? Whether he had any accomplices, or whatever the thing is called in the law? And a great deal more to the like artless purpose. "Why you see, miss," returns Mr.
However, Volumnia, in the course of her bird-like hopping about and pecking at papers, has alighted on a memorandum concerning herself in the event of "anything happening" to her kinsman, which is handsome compensation for an extensive course of reading and holds even the dragon Boredom at bay.
Although it is summer weather, Sir Leicester always has his own particular fire in the evening. He takes his usual screened seat near it and repeats with much firmness and a little displeasure, as who should say, I am not a common man, and when I say tolerably, it must not be understood as a common expression, "Volumnia, we are doing tolerably."
It is she that schools and lessons him; it is she that conquers him. It was 'her boy, after all it was her boy still, that was 'coming home. Well might Menenius say 'This Volumnia is worth of consuls, senators, patricians, A city full; of tribunes such as you, A sea and land full.
The debilitated cousin supposes he is "'normously rich fler." "He has a stake in the country," says Sir Leicester, "I have no doubt. He is, of course, handsomely paid, and he associates almost on a footing of equality with the highest society." Everybody starts. For a gun is fired close by. "Good gracious, what's that?" cries Volumnia with her little withered scream. "A rat," says my Lady.
She now experienced one of the divine impulses of which I have spoken, and, inspired by Heaven to do what was best for her country, rose and called on the other ladies to accompany her to the house of Volumnia, the mother of Marcius.
To married women who thirsted for a draught of the turbid waters of politics, she said: "If you really desire to serve the government under which you live, recollect that it was neither the speeches thundered from the forum, nor the prayers of priests and augurs, nor the iron tramp of glittering legions, but the ever triumphant, maternal influence, the potent, the pleading 'My son! of Volumnia, the mother of Coriolanus, that saved Rome."
In any country in a wholesome state, Volumnia would be a clear case for the pension list. Efforts have been made to get her on it, and when William Buffy came in, it was fully expected that her name would be put down for a couple of hundred a year.
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