Paris: What do you mean? What do you mean, my real wife?
Hector: Oh, I'm sorry, Paris. I forgot how you tend to conveniently forget such details. I suppose I should refresh your memory for you. Don't you remember Oenone?
Paris: Oenone...
Hector: That's right; now you're getting it. You're not nearly as stupid and innocent as you look, are you? You were a shepherd boy before you were a prince—honest and truly happy with your kind, plain and true beloved, Oenone. You may have even loved her. Goodness knows she loved you. That was before Aphrodite corrupted you, and you got it into your soft-boiled head that you deserved the most beautiful woman in the world—someone else's wife.
Paris: Where's Helen? I want to talk to Helen.
Hector: Oh, no, you don't. You're not going to get any comfort. You're going to understand exactly what it is you've done. Abandoning a woman—that's sick, Paris. That's sick and dishonourable. Inside, you don't have any morals. You just follow whatever gives you pleasure.
Paris: Stop it! Stop it, Hector!
Hector: You're a worm and a traitor to your wife! Helen doesn't know about her, does she?
Paris: I'm sorry, Hector. I'm sorry.
Hector: Get out. I don't hurt little girls.
Enter Priam. Paris runs into his arms.
Paris: Father! Father!
Priam: Hector, what is this?
Hector: Father, I---
Paris: He was shouting at me! He hit me, he threatened me!
Priam: Hector!
Paris: I'm sorry if I'm worthless; I'm sorry I'm so useless. I'm sorry I can only hit people in the ankle. I'm sorry I caused so much pain.
Hector: You little worm.
Priam: It's all right, Paris. You're a very good archer. You're my son. Hector, I'm sick of you tormenting your poor brother, but I'm willing to forgive you if you apologize to him.
Paris: Would you? Would you please, Hector? I'd like us to be friends.
Hector pauses, and looks at Priam. Finally, he decides.
Hector: No. I can't pardon him. I can't forget what he's done... or what he's going to do.
Priam: Going to do? What are you talking about?
Hector: Father, you can't believe that Troy is far from falling. It's only a matter of time.
Priam: You've been talking to Cassandra.
Hector: No, I haven't. It's just common sense. As a general, I know that my troops can't hold out much longer, even with the three-day armistice to rest and prepare.
Paris: Don't lie to him, Hector; he'll find out anyway. He was talking to Cassandra today. Aeneas said she was in the war room.
Priam: What was she doing in the war room?
Hector: I tried to get her out, but—
Priam: Great Poseidon!
Hector: You can't believe this maggot, can you?
Priam: He's my son, not a maggot! A wonderful son. One who at least is honest with me!
Hector: I'm... I apologize.
Priam: I don't know how inclined I am to accept that, considering you refused to forgive Paris.
Hector: I don't know what to say.
Priam: Paris, follow me. Maybe seeing Helen will cheer you up.
Exeunt both.