Hector: Do you know what you've done? Do you know how many years our father worked for peace?
Paris: I love her.
Hector: Oh, it's all a game to you, isn't it? You roam from town to town, bedding merchants' wives and temple maids and you think you know something about love? What about your father's love? You spat on him when you brought her onboard this ship! What about the love for your country? You'd let Troy burn for this woman?! I will NOT let you start a war for her!
Paris: What you say is true, I've wronged you. I've wronged our father. If you want to take Helen back to Sparta, so be it... but I go with her.
Hector: To Sparta, they'll kill you!
Paris: Then I'll die fighting.
Hector: Oh, and that's sounds heroic to you, to die fighting? Have you ever killed a man?
Paris: No.
Hector: Ever seen a man die in combat?
Paris: No.
Hector: I've killed men. I've heard them dying, I've watched them dying and there's nothing glorious about it! Nothing poetic! You say you're willing to die for love, but you know nothing about dying and you know nothing about love!
Paris: All the same, I go with her. I won't ask you to fight my war.
Hector: You already have.
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