You’re still my enemy tonight. But even enemies can show respect.
I have endured what no one on earth has endured before. I kissed the hands of the man who killed my son.
I know my country better than the Greeks, I think.
Do you really think death frightens me now? I watched my eldest son die, watched you drag his body behind your chariot. Give him back to me. He deserves a proper burial, you know that. Give him to me.
When you were very young, you came down with scarlet fever. Your little hand was so hot. The healer said you would not last the night. I went down to Apollo’s temple, and I prayed until the sun came up. That walk back to the palace was the longest of my life. When I went into your mother’s room, and you were sleeping in her arms, your fever had broken. I promised that day to dedicate my life to the gods, I will not break my promise. For 30 years I have worked for peace, *thirty* years. Paris is a fool sometimes, I know that, but I will fight a thousand wars before letting him die.
I’ve fought many wars in my time. Some I’ve fought for land, some for power, some for glory. I suppose fighting for love makes more sense than all the rest.
I have heard rumors of your beauty. And for once, the gossip is right.
I knew your father. He died well before his time. But he was fortunate enough to not have lived long enough to see his son fall.
Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity. And so we ask ourselves, will our actions echo across the centuries? Will strangers hear our names long after we’re gone, and wonder who we were, how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved?
I loved my boy from the moment he opened his eyes until the moment you closed them.
