Antilochus is in his tent. Enter Nestor.

Nestor: My, my, my! It never ceases to amaze me that the goblet is yet to be invented. You'd think that people would need cattle, but no! And I wonder too about shepherds. It seems they're busy making some new kind of pie.

Antilochus: There's nobody around.

Nestor: Finally! Get me some soup, boy.

Antilochus: Yes, father.

Nestor: And hurry up, sonny! I don't have all day!

Antilochus: Yes, father. Father?

Nestor: Yes, O my son, what is it?

Antilochus: Why do you babble like a deficient in other people's company?

Nestor: Why do you babble like a deficient regardless?

Antilochus: I'm just curious.

Nestor: Curious as a cat in a sack. Because I'm sick of people always asking my advice. People need to learn to think for themselves. In Pylos, I was considered to be the cleverest boy of my age. By the time I'd grown up, word of me had spread througout Achaia. Once I'd built up a reputation as a wise man, everyone would come to me for answers. You'd think that I'm the holy Oracle at Delphi, for Athena's sake! Well, I'm sick of it, and I'm determined to speak only in nonsense.

Antilochus: But it's not working. People still ask for your advice, and they try and take it, too— even if it is ridiculous.

Nestor: Hey! Do I look like I've got lightning bolts in these hands? If not, it means I'm not Father Zeus, and I'm not omnipotent! Leave me alone!

Antilochus: Yes, father. Father?

Nestor: Yes, O my talkative son. What is it now?

Antilochus: Why don't you talk balderdash to me, too?

Nestor: Because you're hopeless enough as it is. In the name of the Thunderer, it's a challenge to you just to get my soup. I don't want to make it any harder for you.

Antilochus: You're getting soft in your old age. Enter Menelaus.

Menelaus: Antilochus?

Nestor: Menelaus! You're looking warm and fuzzy as a coin on a rainy day! May I compliment your potato-maker?

Menelaus: Antilochus, you're doing a very noble thing, taking care of your elderly father. Poor thing, he seems to be losing his wits.

Nestor: Don't worry about them. I found them in an empty bathtub, anyway... Exit

Antilochus: Oh, he takes care of himself in many ways. What is it, sir?

Menelaus: I have a message from King Agamemnon wondering if you're free this evening to join the pregnant horse. He said you would know what it meant.

Antilochus: Well, I'm afraid don't.

Menelaus: I didn't think so. Well, come round tonight anyway, and we'll see what this is all about.

Antilochus: Yes, sir.

Menelaus: Good lad. Enter Diomedes.

Diomedes: Menelaus?

Menelaus: What is it, Diomedes?

Diomedes: There's a message from Agamemnon wondering if you're free this evening to be eaten by horses. He said you'd understand.

Menelaus: Um...

Diomedes: Better pop by anyway. Enter Ajax.

Ajax: Diomedes, Agamemnon says you're supposed to wear a horse tonight. That okay?

Menelaus: Whatever's happening, I bet Agamemnon's having a lot of fun right now.

Ajax: This war gets worse all the time! First the enemy... now my own commander! Is the world out to confuse me?

Diomedes: Don't worry, Ajax---this war's nobody's friend.

Antilochus coughs and gestures discreetly to Menelaus.

Diomedes: Oh... Menelaus. I'm sorry.

Menelaus: ...

The other Achaians retreat to the back of the stage, giving him space.

Chorus: Soldier.

Menelaus: Who's saying that?

Chorus: Soldier.

Menelaus: Stop it. Stop it, whoever you are. That's what Helen used to call me, and I don't care to be reminded of it.

Chorus: Soldier, look up.

Menelaus: What am I supposed to see?

Chorus: Tell us.

Menelaus: I see... grey skies.

Chorus: Grey skies, soft eyes.

Menelaus: You try to trick me. She's not here. I don't see her.

Chorus 1: We know you do.

Menelaus: You're wrong. I'm not in love with her anymore.

Chorus 2: Soft eyes, sad sighs.

Menelaus: I don't believe it. She loves Paris.

Chorus 3: She was trying to protect you.

Homer: Think back, Menelaus. By embracing Paris she hid you from the Trojan's eyes.

Menelaus: Lies.

Chorus 4: Her heart is yours.

Chorus 5: She's not here to defend her actions.

Chorus 1: We can't force you to believe the truth.

Menelaus: I... I'm sorry. It's true. I do still love her. I still hate what she did.

Homer: Jealousy.

Menelaus: Yes, jealousy! Like Patroclus, I feel some echo of what others feel. And when I saw her take Prince Paris in her arms, I could sense what I was missing with a sharp ache. I remember the silk brush of her hair in my hands, the soft touch of her hands in mine.

Chorus 6: Homer, this is getting to be a bit much.

Homer: O Muses, you must forgive him when his speech is so embarrassingly maudlin. You must bear in mind that it's been (cough) nine years...

Menelaus: All this I felt, and this but an echo!

Chorus 2: Echo? Say rather--

Chorus: An amplification.

Menelaus: Promise me she loves me.

Chorus: Soldier.

Menelaus: What can I say...?