Paris [looking from one to the other]. Oh! So you're a couple of eunuchs.
[Though nearly eighty this is too much for Analytikos to bear. He rushes to call the guard, but Menelaus stops him.]
Paris [to Analytikos]. Thanks.
Analytikos. You thank me for telling you your doom?
Paris. No—for convincing me that I'm where I want to be. It's taken me a long while, but I knew I'd get here. [And then very intimately to Menelaus.] Where's the Queen?
Menelaus. Where do you come from?
Paris. From the hills. I had come down into the market-place to sell my sheep. I had my hood filled with apples. They were golden-red like a thousand sunsets.
Menelaus [annoyed]. You might skip those bucolic details.
Paris. At the fair I met three ancient gypsies.
Menelaus. What have they to do with you coming here?