Looking back at the three lays of the bard in the present Book we find that they all are connected together in a common theme of which they show different phases, beginning, middle and end--the conflict before the Iliad, the conflict of the Iliad, and the conflict after the Iliad, all hovering around the great national enterprise of the Greeks, namely the Trojan War, in which the deepest principle of the Hellenic world, indeed of the entire Occident, was at stake. But Homer, in distinction from Demodocus, weaves into his poem not only the past but the present, not only Troy but Phaeacia, not only the movement against the East but also the movement toward the West, of which Phaeacia is simply one stage. The Hero who unites these two great movements of Greek spirit is now brought before us again. 2. Ulysses weeps at the song of the bard which recalls so many memories of friends departed and of dire calamities. These tears connect him deeply with Troy and its conflict; the Phaeacians listen intently, but are outside of the great struggle, they shed no tears. Thus does Ulysses in his strongest emotions unite himself with the Trojan enterprise of aforetime. He is not simply a wanderer over the sea seeking to get home, but a returner from Troy; he has revealed himself through his feelings. He personally shares in the woes sung by the bard, because he has experienced them. Indeed the very image which the poet here employs to express sorrow, taken from the woman whose husband has been slain fighting for his city, and for his wife and his children, recalls Hector, Andromache and Astyanax as they appear in the Sixth Book of the Iliad. Ulysses is like such a woman, without home or family, alone among strangers, shedding tears. Thus he connects himself with the fateful story of Ilium. Previously Ulysses wept at the first lay of Demodocus, now he emphasizes his sorrow by repetition. Whenever the theme of Troy is touched, he has to respond with tears; the second time of weeping at the Trojan tale is necessary in order to fix his character and identify him as a returner. Yet this repetition so vitally organic is questioned by many critics, some of whom resort to excision. It is hardly worth the while to notice them in their various attempts at destruction and construction; when we once catch the underlying motive all becomes plain. The first and last scenes of weeping unifies the Book, the bond of tears holds its parts indissolubly together in the emotions.