NEOPTOLEMOS
Look here. Rags lie drying in the sun, full of pieces of skin and pus from his sores.
ODYSSEUS
Then clearly he still lives here. He can't be far off. Weakened as he is by long years of disease, he can't stray far from home. He is probably out scratching up a meal or an herb he knows will relieve his pain. Send a guard to keep close watch on this place so he doesn't take me by surprise— for he'd rather have me than any other Greek.
NEOPTOLEMOS
The path will be guarded.
Now tell me the rest.
ODYSSEUS
Son of Achilles, we are here for a reason.
You must be like your father, and not in strength alone.
If any of this sounds strange to you,
no matter. You must still serve those who are over you.
NEOPTOLEMOS
What must I do?