VALERIA.
You would be another Penelope. Yet they say all the yarn she spun in Ulysses’ absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come, I would your cambric were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.
VIRGILIA.
No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.
VALERIA.
In truth, la, go with me, and I’ll tell you excellent news of your husband.
VIRGILIA.
O, good madam, there can be none yet.
VALERIA.
Verily, I do not jest with you. There came news from him last night.
VIRGILIA.
Indeed, madam!
VALERIA.
In earnest, it’s true. I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth, against whom Cominius the General is gone with one part of our Roman power. Your lord and Titus Lartius are set down before their city Corioles. They nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on mine honour, and so, I pray, go with us.
VIRGILIA.
Give me excuse, good madam. I will obey you in everything hereafter.
VOLUMNIA.
Let her alone, lady. As she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.
VALERIA.
In troth, I think she would.—Fare you well, then.—Come, good sweet lady.—Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness out o’ door, and go along with us.