2. Very naturally the Trojan scene is next taken, that greatest deed of the Greek race, being that which really made it a new race, separating it from the Orient and giving it a new destiny. Helen now tells to the company myths, particularly the labors of Ulysses. She narrates how he came to Troy in the disguise of a beggar; none knew him, "but I alone recognized him," as she had just recognized Telemachus. Thus she celebrates the cunning and bravery of Ulysses; but she also introduces a fragment of her own history: "I longed to return home, and I lamented the infatuation which Venus sent upon me." She wished to be restored to her husband who was "in no respect lacking in mind or shape." We must not forget that the husband was before her listening; she does not forget her skill. Also Telemachus was present and hears her confession of guilt and her repentance--important stages in her total life, which he is to know, and to take unto himself. Menelaus has also his myth of Ulysses at Troy, which he now proceeds to tell. It brings before us the Wooden Horse, really the thought of Ulysses, though wrought by Epeios, by which the hostile city was at last captured. Here the Odyssey supplies a connecting link between itself and the Iliad, as the latter poem closes before the time of the Wooden Horse. Ulysses is now seen to be the Hero again, he is the man who suppresses emotion, especially domestic emotion in himself and others for the great end of the war. It suggests also the difficulty of Ulysses; he had so long suppressed his domestic instincts, and done without the life of the family, that he will have great trouble in overcoming the alienation--whereof the Odyssey is the record. In this story of Menelaus, Helen has her part too; she came to the Wooden Horse, "imitating in voice the wives of all the Greek leaders," who were deeply moved, yet restrained themselves except one, Anticlus, "over whose mouth Ulysses clapped his powerful hands, and saved the Greeks." Truly a strong image of the suppression of feeling in himself and in others. But why did Helen do thus? Was it a hostile act on her part? Menelaus hints that it was at least very dangerous to the Greeks, though he delicately lays the blame of it on some God, "who must have inspired thee." She was testing the Greeks whom she supposed to be inside the horse. Will they answer the call of their wives? Do they still retain their affection for their families? Above all, does Menelaus love me still? Such was her test, in which we witness another of her many gifts. At any rate, she is not yet free, she is still married in Troy, though the hour of her release be near.