OLD MAN.
The queen! What care
Hath she for thee, or pain of thine?
ELECTRA.
She will;
And weep my babe's low station!
OLD MAN.
Thou hast skill
To know her, child; say on.
ELECTRA.
But bring her here,
Here to my hand; the rest will come.
OLD MAN.
I swear,
Here at the gate she shall stand palpable!