Wait there till I call you.
PARIS. Is this some trick to catch me?
MENELAUS. A Spartan cannot lie.
PARIS. What will happen to you if the King hears of this?
MENELAUS. I will answer for the king. Go.
[PARIS exits into the library.]
ANALYTIKOS [rubbing his hands]. Shall I order the boiling oil?
MENELAUS [surprised]. Oil?
ANALYTIKOS. Now that he is being cleaned for the sacrifice.
MENELAUS. His torture will be greater than being boiled alive.
ANALYTIKOS [eagerly]. You'll have him hurled from the walls of
the palace to a forest of waiting spears below?
MENELAUS. None is so blind as he who sees too much.
ANALYTIKOS. Your Majesty is subtle in his cruelty.
MENELAUS. Haven't the years taught you the cheapness of revenge?
ANALYTIKOS [mystified]. You do not intend to alter destiny.
MENELAUS. Never before has destiny been so clear to me.
ANALYTIKOS. Then the boy must die.
MENELAUS [with slow determination]. No! He has been sent by the
Gods to save me!
ANALYTIKOS. Your majesty! [He is trembling with apprehension.]
MENELAUS [with unbudgeable conviction]. Helena must elope with
him!
ANALYTIKOS [falling into a seat].
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