O’ my word, the father’s son: I’ll swear,’tis a very pretty boy. O’ my troth, I looked upon him o’ Wednesday half an hour together: has such a confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go again; and after it again; and over and over he comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his fall enraged him, or how ’twas, he did so set his teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked it!
Oh, I swear, the father’s son: I’ll swear, he’s a really cute boy. Oh, honestly, I looked at him for half an hour on Wednesday: he has such a serious face. I saw him chase after a shiny butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go again; and chased it again; and over and over he came back, and again; caught it again; or whether falling made him angry, or whatever it was, he gritted his teeth and tore it up; oh, I bet you, how he shredded it!
Valeria · Act 1, Scene 3
Valeria recounts watching young Marcius tear apart a gilded butterfly he had chased and caught, tearing it to pieces in frustration or rage. The anecdote sticks because it shows the child embodying his father's violent nature in miniature—he tears things apart because that is what his blood teaches him to do. It suggests that Coriolanus's nature is not a choice but an inheritance, hardwired into him before he could understand the world.