Sardou's Cleopatra — page 130: what you’re looking at

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

SARDOU’S CLEOPATRA. 115 hair. About her hips is bound, sash-wise, a tiger skin, confining the folds of her robe of diapha- nous black stuff, studded with jewels. | Seated on the roof at the foot of the couch, with her arms thrown across it, and her head rest- ing upon her arms, sleeps Iras, worn out with fatigue. Very white looks the delicate face in the flickering light of the blazing torches, which are placed in each corner of the roof. At the head of the couch, stands Charmian, her eyes fixed wonderingly upon her royal mistress. Never before has Charmian seen the queen in any such condition as this, absolutely pining with love and longing. Her lovers, heretofore, have simply been to her the amusement of the moment, or an instrument by which she could further her ambition, her insatiable craving for power. Of each she had quickly tired, and of each she had quickly rid herself. But, now, it was far differ- ent, and Charmian was lost in wonder and bewil- derment. ‘The explanation was simple enough. Cleopatra’s proud heart had at last met its mas- ter, and for the first and only time in her life she loved, loved with an unquenchable passion, which would know no satiety, and which death alone could end. comicbooks pele)