Think for thyself how more unfortunate than all living women are we come hither, since...

Volumnia: [kneeling] Think for thyself how more unfortunate than all living women are we come hither, since that thy sight, which should make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts, constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow. Making the mother, wife, and child to see the son, the husband, and the father, tearing his country's bowels out. And we must find an evident calamity, though we had our wish, which side should win. For either thou must, as a foreign recreant, be led with manacles through our streets, or else triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin and bear the palm for having bravely shed thy wife and children's blood. Volumnia: [getting to her feet] For myself, son, I purpose not to wait on fortune till these wars determine. If I cannot persuade thee rather to show a noble grace to both parts than seek the end to one, thou shalt no sooner march to assault thy country than to tread on thy mother's womb... that brought thee to this world. Virgilia: Aye, and mine, that brought you forth this boy to keep your name living to time. Young Martius: You shall not tread on me. I'll run away till I'm bigger. But then I'll fight!