I shall begin by illustrating the relative position and feelings of the mother and son; as these are of the greatest importance in the action of the drama, and consequently most prominent in the characters. Though Volumnia is a Roman matron, and though her country owes its salvation to her, it is clear that her maternal pride and affection are stronger even than her patriotism. Thus when her son is exiled, she burst into an imprecation against Rome and its citizens:—
Now the red pestilence strikes all trades in Rome,
And occupations perish!
Here we have the impulses of individual and feminine nature, overpowering all national and habitual influences. Volumnia would never have exclaimed like the Spartan mother, of her dead son, "Sparta has many others as brave as he;" but in a far different spirit she says to the Romans,—
Ere you go, hear this:
As far as doth the Capitol exceed
The meanest house in Rome, so far my son,
Whom you have banished, does exceed you all.
In the very first scene, and before the introduction of the principal personages, one citizen observes to another that the military exploits of Marcius were performed, not so much for his country's sake "as to please his mother." By this admirable stroke of art, introduced with such simplicity of effect, our attention is aroused, and we are prepared in the very outset of the piece for the important part assigned to Volumnia, and for her share in producing the catastrophe.
In the first act we have a very graceful scene, in which the two Roman ladies, the wife and mother of Coriolanus, are discovered at their needle-work, conversing on his absence and danger, and are visited by Valeria:—
The noble sisters of 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.