Coriolanus Act Scene 1.3.1

The humble wives

Scene 1.3.1

The house of Caius Marcius

The home of Caius Marcius was a humble one for a noble. It boasts of a double level brick structure with only five bedrooms, one library and living area, with a modest kitchen. The servants of the household are few and were housed in the adjacent twin bedroom single level structure. It was not the appearance of its ground that was of interest, but the sub-level below the ground. It was not just below the ground but at a depth of ten feet. It was no grave but a secured bunker for the household with connecting tunnels that exit at the edge of the garden outside or to the well. The well was a must for the household in the case of breakout of war for rationing may impair the garden’s growth. Such preparation was that of the patriarch of the household who had died from battle wounds while he held the rank of Major. He was such a thorough man that he planned well for his family well being.  Pardon my earlier passages of words, but the sub-level was only for the immediate family and not the servants. One must be careful in how the distinction of the Noble and Commoners are laid.

Volumnia Marcius, the fine widow dressed in the fine silk yellow frock over her inner softer silky afternoon leisure gown of the spring flowers designs had lazed herself there on the high back seat. She adored the place as it was the favorite of her departed trooper husband who died with the pips denoting his rank as Major; herself was of finer breed with her father retiring when he was a Colonel. She had married the young officer named Antione Marcius on the blessing of her father. She still recalled her father’s encouraging words.

“A fine gentleman and an officer.” The older man had praised his soon to be son in law. “I am pleased you found your place with him.”

Volumnia was ever pleased with her choice, although she had a few others to consider. What drew her to the officer was his pride of being a military officer. He had excelled in his military class and was an excellent sportsman in several fields. He once boasted to her that he would be General and would see to that the others are all trained to his requirements. It was how he decided to stand out from his peers that made him the choice for the tasks. Nevertheless, he excelled and got himself promoted to the rank of Major. He was to be in line for the rank of Colonel, but the last task had him pinned down with wounds more than medals. He was given a hero’s burial with his commanding officer delivering a wonderful recital on the bravery of his officer.

Volumnia; a widow at the mid thirties held close to her the other living version of her lover; his son Caius Marcius. She had vowed that her son will surpass the father to be the Colonel. It was not a dream but an ambition of sort to her. She had him enrolled in the military school and watched him churned by the best to be the best. He was every bit the chip off the block, or was it a chunk off the inherited qualities of the Marcius.

“I pray you, daughter,” Volumnia seated on the high seat while her fingers waltzed on the smooth panel that will translate it to a woven piece of art when it’s processed by the craft machine. It was a ladies plaything then for their social events. The panel deprived of the needles and threads as used by the Commoner could be tedious to the lady delicate touches. More to it, those sharp needles are a bane to their nimble fingers; a prick would tarnish the clear skin on the finger edge. With this panel, the work of arts would be translated by minute nanites to the machine and re-produced into a fine tapestry.

“Express yourself in a more comfortable sort; if my son were my husband,” Volumnia looked to the grand hologram that stood over the fireplace in the library they were in. He does look every bit like Caius. Truly it was a remarkable quality of the traits that were carried through the generations. “I should freelier rejoice in the absence wherein he won honor than in the embraces of his bed where he would show most love.”

Virgilia Cassel who was seated by the side of her mother in law paused in her reading of the electronic pad while enjoying her afternoon aperitif before her late day nap. She was a young mother having married the man in a short whirlwind of romance. After all, Virgilia was a dreamer with her thoughts ever on the contents of the notes she gleaned off the electronic pad. She had dreamed of a dashing man who would sweep her off the feet, and laid his first kiss on her. It was in a placement of sequences; the sweeping ended on the moss bed by the pond while the kiss was more of lustful attempt by the man. It was rough and selfish but she felt that maybe the loving would be there later. It did come later; undeniably the sex was more gratifying than love. It was the aftermaths that gave her more joy, a bubbly boy that was ever incessant like the father. He was truly a handful when his father was not around, and when his father was around, she found herself handed more like before. She would have asked for more, but at times Caius came back with more needs of rest than love. Soon it was a series of wonderment if there was ever a time he could be as before, but she had resigned to her dream once more than.

Or was it fantasy that the mind could bring forth.

“Virgilia, pray hear me out.” The stern vocal tone of the elder lady cracked her dream state. She righted herself to be lady

like on the seat, and leaned forth to hear the elder lady ranting.

“When yet he was but tender bodied, and the only son of my womb; when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way; when for a day of kings entreaties; a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding.” Virgilia heard the elder lady. She thought to herself; was it an hour then. I thought it was a spontaneous short time, and more times for us to keep decent for our return to her.

“I, considering how honor would become such a person~ that it was no better than picture like to hang by the wall, its renown made it not stir,” Virgilia looked to the hologram. He does seem to be in sight like the son. She then smiled, I was never her size; God forgive me if he ever knew what he may had missed.

“I was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame.” Volumnia sighed. “To a cruel war I sent him from whence he returned his brows bound with oak.”

Oaks he did not have in his shoulder panels, but a large bulbous pip it was. Virgilia smiled to her own thoughts.

“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.” The elder lady raved on her son who was more than a shadow of the father.

Proved himself a man, he indeed; the words sprang to Virgilia’ mind but then I dawned on her that her husband was indeed in the same steps as his father. He may yet fall and never return.

“But had he died in the business, madam, how then?” Virgilia shuddered at the thought.

“Then his good report would have been my son; I therein would have found issue.” Volumnia spoke up in pride. “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 had eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.”

Virgilia shuddered at the elder lady’s words. The wrench thinks I would gladly let my husband or son die needlessly for the country. I loved them and would hold them dear to my heart. If death will to come, let it be in my arms and loving care.

“Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you.” The head of the servants announced.