One friend alone for both.

OLD MAN.

He will, he will!
Speak on. What cunning hast thou found to fill
Thy purpose?

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?