Analytikos. Can Sparta ask less of her King?
Menelaus. Let's hear the other side. We can perhaps arbitrate. Peace at any price.
Analytikos. Some bargains are too cheap.
Menelaus [hopelessly]. But I am a pacifist.
Analytikos. You are Menelaus of Sparta, and Sparta's a nation of soldiers.
Menelaus [desperately]. I am too proud to fight!
Analytikos. Here, put on your shield. [A great clamor comes up from the courtyard, Analytikos steps out on the balcony and is greeted with shouts of "The King! The King!" Addressing the crowd.] People of Sparta, this calamity has been forced upon us. [Menelaus winces.] We are a peaceful people. But thanks to our unparalleled efficiency, the military system of Sparta is the most powerful in all Greece and we can mobilize in half an hour.
[Loud acclaims from the people. Menelaus, the papyrus still in hand, crawls over and attempts to stop Analytikos.]
Analytikos [not noticing him]. In the midst of connubial and communal peace the thunderbolt has fallen on the King. [Menelaus tugs at Analytikos' robe.] Broken in spirit as he is, he is already pawing the ground like a battle steed. Never will we lay down our arms! We and Jupiter! [Cheers.] Never until the Queen is restored to Menelaus. Never, even if it takes ten years. [Menelaus squirms. A loud cheer.] Even now the King is buckling on his shield. [More cheers. Analytikos steps farther forward and then with bursting eloquence.] One hate we have and one alone! [Yells from below.]
Hate by water and hate by land,
Hate of the head and hate of the hand,
Hate of Paris and hate of Troy
That has broken the Queen for a moment's toy.