ELECTRA.
Get thee forth, Old Man, and quick
Tell Clytemnestra … tell her I lie sick,
New-mothered of a man-child.
OLD MAN.
Thou hast borne
A son! But when?
ELECTRA.
Let this be the tenth morn.
Till then a mother stays in sanctity,
Unseen.
OLD MAN.
And if I tell her, where shall be
The death in this?
ELECTRA.
That word let her but hear,
Straight she will seek me out!