He -- he ----
MENELAUS [furiously to ANALYTIKOS]. Rid me of this croaking
raven.
TSUMU. Evil has fallen on Sparta. He ----
ANALYTIKOS. Yes -- yes ----
MENELAUS [in a rage]. Out of my sight, perfidious Nubian.
[Sounds of confusion in the courtyard. Suddenly she springs to
her feet and yells at the top of her voice.]
TSUMU. He was Paris, Prince of Troy!
[They all start back. ANALYTIKOS stumbles into a seat. MENELAUS
turns pale. TSUMU leers like a black Nemesis.]
ANALYTIKOS [very ominously]. Who can read the secret of the
Fates?
MENELAUS [frightened]. What do you mean?
ANALYTIKOS. He is the son of Priam, King of Troy.
TSUMU [adding fuel]. And of Hecuba, Queen of the Trojans. [She
rushes out to spread the news.]
ANALYTIKOS. That makes the matter international.
MENELAUS [quickly]. But we have treaties with Troy.
ANALYTIKOS. Circumstances alter treaties. They will mean nothing.
MENELAUS. Nothing?
ANALYTIKOS. No more than a scrap of papyrus. Sparta will fight to
regain her Queen.
MENELAUS. But I don't want her back.
ANALYTIKOS. Can you tell that to Sparta? Remember, the King can
do no wrong.
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