Sardou's Cleopatra — page 192: what you’re looking at

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

SARDOU’S CLEVPATRA. — 17 “Your Cleopatra!” repeated a deep voice, scorn- fully. ‘Yes, your Cleopatra, perhaps, but not yours alone!” At these bold words, Antony turned from the window with a quick movement. Beside him stood Ventidius, his scarred face stern and lower- ing; and, just behind the old soldier, was a tall, thin man, with dark complexion, and narrow, slanting eyes. “Your Cleopatra, indeed!” continued Ventid- ius, in the same contemptuous voice. “Any man’s Cleopatra! All men’s Cleopatra!” “What mean you?” thundered Antony, his features convulsed with rage, and menacingly raising his clenched hand. But not one atom did the brave old soldier flinch. He was there to recall his master to rea- son, by all means in his power, and do his duty he would, even though it might cost him his life. | Wonderingly and breathlessly the others lis- tened. Diomedes, who on his flight from Mem- phis, had sought Ventidius and put himself under his protection, shrank behind the broad-shoul- dered form of his patron. Frank and honest, old Ventidius had no liking for or trust in the cun- — ~-comicbooks.co