Publicola,
The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple!

Over this little scene Shakspeare, without any display of learning, has
breathed the very spirit of classical antiquity. The haughty temper of
Volumnia, her admiration of the valor and high bearing of her son, and
her proud but unselfish love for him, are finely contrasted with the
modest sweetness, he conjugal tenderness, and the fond solicitude of his
wife Virgilia.

VOLUMNIA.

When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only son of my
womb; when youth with comeliness pluck'd all gaze his way;
when, for a day of king's entreaties, a mother should not
sell him an hour from her beholding--considering how honor
would become such a person; that it was no better than
picture-like to hang by the wall, if renown made it not
stir,--was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like
to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him, from whence he
returned, his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter--I
sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child,
than now in first seeing he had proved himself a man.

VIRGILIA.

But had he died in the business, madam? how then?

VOLUMNIA.

Then his good report should have been my son; I therein
would have found issue. Hear me profess sincerely: had I a
dozen sons, each in my love alike, and none less dear than
thine and my good Marcius, I had rather eleven die nobly for
their country, than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.

_Enter a_ GENTLEWOMAN.

Madam, the lady Valeria is come to visit you.

VIRGILIA.

Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself.

VOLUMNIA.

Indeed you shall not.
Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum:
See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair:
As children from a bear, the Volces shunning him:
Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus--
"Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear,
Though you were born in Rome." His bloody brow
With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes;
Like to a harvest-man, that's task'd to mow
Or all, or lose his hire.

VIRGILIA.

His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood!