Sardou's Cleopatra — page 102: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SARDOU’S CLEUPATRA. 87 Cleopatra raised her hands and removed her head-dress—a sort of golden helmet—formed of the body and wings of the sacred bird. Handing it to Iras, she thrust back the dark masses of her hair behind her ears of a daintier pink than the shell from which Venus, the sea-born, emerged, ‘“How to pass this weary time of waiting,” she murmured. ‘He has been gone ten days, and it seems ten centuries.” “Will it please you to listen to the singers of Tonia?” asked Charmian. ‘They are without.” “No, Charmian, no. Their noise fatigues me. Send the singers away. Ah! Isis, I have paid too much for your lying oracles. They prom- iscd me that I should hear from Antony to-day. The hour has passed. They have deceived me. In vain I look forth. ‘There is no boat upon the Nile, no cloud of dust upon the deserted road.” “Perhaps,” ventured Iras, timidly, “his plans have not succeeded, and the rebellious mob> refuses him obedience.”’ Cleopatra shot upon her a glance of superb disdain. - “Tras,” she said, imperiously, “doubt the gods if you shone but not hits power,”’ (E(0) Eomichooks