When my woes are weigh'd,
Envy will own the purchase dearly paid.[303:2]

He does not indeed think it right to compare himself with the gods—

The monarch took the word, and grave replied—
Presumptuous are the vaunts, and vain the pride
Of man who dares in pomp with Jove contest,
Unchanged, immortal, and supremely blest.

But then, after displaying his affectionate disposition as a brother, and saying that he is compelled to live and to be rich, he opposes to this the consideration of friendship—

Oh, had the gods so large a boon denied,
And life, the just equivalent, supplied
To those brave warriors who, with glory fired,
Far from their country in my cause expired.

Who could there be then of the descendants of those men who had died in his cause, who would not think his grief for the death of his father as fair a compensation as could be given by grateful recollection? But still, that he may not appear to look upon them all in the same light, though they had all equally shown their good-will to him, he adds—

But oh! Ulysses,—deeper than the rest,
That sad idea wounds my anxious breast;
My heart bleeds fresh with agonising pain,
The bowl and tasteful viands tempt in vain.

And that he may not seem to disregard any one of his family he names them all separately—

Doubtful of his doom,
His good old sire with sorrow to the tomb

[[304]] Declines his trembling steps; untimely care
Withers the blooming vigour of his heir;
And the chaste partner of his bed and throne
Wastes all her widow'd hours in tender moan.