No More Learning

She knows what eyes are turned upon
Her passings in the land!

OLD MAN.

Aye, all men hate
The unholy woman.

ORESTES.

How then can I set
My snare for wife and husband in one breath?

ELECTRA (_coming forward_).

Hold! It is I must work our mother's death.

ORESTES.

If that be done, I think the other deed
Fortune will guide.

ELECTRA.

This man must help our need,
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?

ELECTRA.

That word let her but hear,
Straight she will seek me out!