-
- King, Menelaus pleads with
you to return his wife.
-
For what purpose, you ask?
-
For the only purpose that
can account for such fervor.
-
Love.
Only that.
-
- King Odysseus,
you have spoken well and wisely.
-
You shall have our answer
before sunrise.
-
Leave us.
-
- I asked to be returned.
-
- Is that what you want?
-
- It is my duty.
-
- I have two questions.
-
Do you love my son?
-
- With all my heart.
-
- If I send you back,
it'd stop this war.
-
Why not?
-
- I know him.
-
- Menelaus?
-
- The other.
-
- Bring me Achilles.
-
- The main fleet lands here.
-
Agamemnon and I, here.
-
We scale the cliffs to a plain
that leads to the marketplace
-
below the city,
up a staircase,
-
through an arch in front
of the city gates.
-
The moment we attack,
-
the merchants will
retreat to the city.
-
- And their weakness
and compassion
-
will keep the gates open.
-
- Menelaus, take the beach.
-
We will pass through
the market in disguise.
-
- A short life full of glory.
-
Isn't what what you wished?
-
May the gods smile
on our destiny.
-
- I agree with the elders.
-
We'll have no doubt that
the the High King of Mycenae
-
comes to Troy for the
purpose of making war.
-
We are also aware of speculation
that he has sacrificed
-
his daughter Iphigeneia
for the purpose of securing
-
a favorable wind.
-
This is not the conduct
of a man of peace.
-
We also agree that
to sacrifice your honor,
-
or even your life,
will not appease his desire,
-
or make peace more likely.
-
For these reasons,
-
we invite you to consider
this city to be your home
-
for as long as you shall live.
-
Furthermore, should you choose
to renounce any further
-
affiliation with Sparta,
-
you shall henceforth be
known as Helen of Troy.
-
Do you accept this offer?
-
- I accept.
-
[ music ]
-
- It appears they will keep her.
-
To Troy!
-
[ crowd cheering ]
-
- We need to move
the barriers down.
-
Do it. Now!
-
[ indistinct conversations ]
-
- Quickly.
-
- Don't.
-
- Gather up the women.
-
[ yelling ]
-
- On to Troy!
-
[ yelling ]
-
- Move away!
-
- Those are soldiers.
Alert the guards.
-
[ indistinct chattering ]
-
- The brothel is upon us,
Pirithous.
-
You and your golden Aphrodite.
-
[ music ]
-
- Onward!
-
[ yelling ]