Antoniusz i Kleopatra: Akt 4, scena 8

Antony

We have beat him to his camp. Run one beforeAnd let the Queen know of our gests.Tomorrow,Before the sun shall see’s, we’ll spill the bloodThat has today escaped. I thank you all,For doughty-handed are you, and have foughtNot as you served the cause, but as’t had beenEach man’s like mine. You have shown all Hectors.Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends,Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tearsWash the congealment from your wounds and kissThe honoured gashes whole.

We have driven him back to his camp. Someone run ahead and tell the Queen about our achievements. Tomorrow, before the sun sees us, we will spill the blood that escaped us today. I thank you all. Your hands are strong and brave, and you have fought not simply as men serving a cause, but as if each man’s stake were as personal as mine. You have all proved yourselves Hectors. Go into the city, embrace your wives and friends, and tell them your brave deeds. Let their joyful tears wash the dried blood from your wounds, and let their kisses heal your honorable cuts.

Cleopatra

Lord of lords!O infinite virtue, com’st thou smiling fromThe world’s great snare uncaught?

Lord of lords! Oh, boundless courage, have you come back smiling, without being caught in the world’s great trap?

Antony

Mine nightingale,We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! Though greyDo something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha’ weA brain that nourishes our nerves and canGet goal for goal of youth. Behold this man.Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand.—Kiss it, my warrior. He hath fought todayAs if a god, in hate of mankind, hadDestroyed in such a shape.

My nightingale, we have beaten them back to their beds. Well, girl! Though some gray mixes with our younger brown hair, we still have a brain that feeds strength to our muscles and can match the young, point for point. Look at this man. Offer him your hand as a mark of favor for him to kiss.—Kiss it, my warrior. Today he fought like a god who hated mankind and took this man’s shape to destroy it.

Cleopatra

I’ll give thee, friend,An armour all of gold. It was a king’s.

My friend, I will give you a suit of armor made entirely of gold. It belonged to a king.

Antony

He has deserved it, were it carbuncledLike holy Phœbus’ car. Give me thy hand.Through Alexandria make a jolly march;Bear our hacked targets like the men that owe them.Had our great palace the capacityTo camp this host, we all would sup togetherAnd drink carouses to the next day’s fate,Which promises royal peril.—Trumpeters,With brazen din blast you the city’s ear;Make mingle with our rattling tabourines,That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together,Applauding our approach.

He would deserve it even if it were studded with rubies like holy Phœbus’ chariot. Give me your hand. Let’s march joyfully through Alexandria. Carry our battered shields like the men who own them. If our great palace had room to house this army, we would all eat supper together and drink toasts to tomorrow’s fate, which promises danger fit for kings.—Trumpeters, blast the city’s ears with your ringing brass. Let it mingle with our rattling drums, so that heaven and earth join their sounds in applause as we approach.