always wished Rome be captured and Coriolan still be alive. I do not know the persistence of Brutus that allowed him to watch his children die without pain. This hardness of heart leans more towards savagery than towards greatness or courage. Tears are legitimate, and compassion is not contrary to generosity. When I said to Coriolan that I would have preferred to die rather than see him victor of Rome, I was not saying anything contrary to truth. But when I also say that I would prefer to be dead and my son to be alive, I am not saying anything that goes against natural justice or that of Rome. I give to nature and to reason what I cannot deny them, and I take away nothing from the Republic. I sacrificed my son for it, and it is therefore up to it to suffer at least as much as I mourn the victim I sacrificed for its preservation. After doing everything a true Roman woman could do, it is normal for me to do everything that grief can demand from the sadness of a mother. All those who lose their children always have a just reason to pity. However, they have as consolation the freedom to curse those who took their children's lives. But me, not only do I mourn the death of my son, but I also curse the fact that it was me who made him die. And to increase my pain, there is a natural law that does not want me to forgive myself for what I have done. My son, my dear Coriolan, can I follow such an appalling feeling?! No, it is too opposite to reason and nature. I must endure and regret until my death the loss I suffered. It is not the Coriolan enemy of Rome that I regret, it's the one who gave his blood for its glory on several occasions, who served seventeen years at the war with an incomparable ardour and who only got as reward the wounds covering his body. Roman ladies, the birth and life of this man does not make him unworthy of your tears. He came from a royal lineage, for Ancus Marcius was his predecessor. He seemed to have more right than others to the advantages of the Republic, because he was incapable of misusing them. But perhaps that's why the Romans denied him the consulate, for fear that he may see in it a means to rise to the throne of his ancestors. No, this reason can't be valid, and to understand Coriolan's intentions, it is enough to remember his entire life. In the battle against Tarquin the Proud, he clearly showed that his desire was to earn the oak crown that the emperor placed on his head, without thinking about the one of his predecessors. Seeing one of our citizens on the ground, he rushed to serve as his shield and protected his body with his own, shielding him from danger. He gathered all his strength and all his courage and gave death to the one who wanted to take his life. If Romans think they have reasons to distrust Coriolan, this one action alone should dissuade them from considering him a tyrant. It is unlikely that he would have exposed himself so much to save a humble citizen if he had intended to destroy the entire Republic one day. But it wasn't only on this occasion that he showed his fervour for the Republic. Didn't he volunteer whenever he could? Didn't he throw himself into the front lines without hesitation, regardless of the danger? 


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