Sardou's Cleopatra — page 271: what you’re looking at

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

= 256 SARDOU’S CLEOPATRA, love what can no longer love, to feel cold a hand which burned you when living, to seek in vain a heart Ah! it is too much! Charmian! Iras! Why dol not die? Oh! Isis, Queen of Heaven! ‘hear my prayer! ‘Take me to Antony! - Thou didst once mourn thy husband! Watch over mine till I come!” “Madam,” said Charmian, “Queen, Royal Egypt, be comforted! He bade you not to grieve.” Cleopatra arose to her feet. “Yes,” she cried, almost exultantly. “He bade me not to grieve, nor will these eyes shed one tear. I have not loved a Roman without know- ing what is becoming in his wife. For I was his wife! Pale, bloodless Octavia never deserved the name! Who dare dispute it with me? Oh! Death, thou, who hast taken him from me, be » proud of thy prey! Never was there a greater, more illustrious warrior. Powerful in the senate, — in the army, and in Rome; in Rome, where all are great, he was the greatest. He marched proudly, surrounded by an escort of kings, for the entire universe lived only to do his bidding. And yet, all this grandeur, brilliancy, and power were as nothing in his eyes. He sought in life (E(e) --Ecomicbooks 3