The Iliad of Homer
Homometrically Translated
C. B. Cayley
London 1877
 
[Sample from the Opening of the Poem]
 
THE
ILIAD OF HOMER

BOOK I
THE STRIFE OF THE LEADERS.

 
MUSE, of Pelidéan Achilles sing the resentment
Ruinous, who brought down many thousand griefs on Achaians,
And ultimately banish’d many souls to the mansion of Hades
Of warriors puissant, them making a booty for hounds and
All manner of prey-birds, wherein Jove’s will was accomplish’d
From that time forward, when first was in enmity parted
Atrides, king of hosts, from Jove-exampling Achilles.
 
To strife and bickerings will ye hear what diety mov’d them?
’Twas Jove’s and Leto’s offspring, wi’ the king when offended,
Sent a fell infection, whence heaps fell on heaps in the army.
This wrought he for a priest, whom lord Agamemnon affronted,
For Chryses, who had hied to swift war-ships of Achaians
His daughter to redeem, and bearing a ransom enormous;
Holding aloft wool-wreaths in his hand of th’ archer Apollo,
On gold sceptre attach’d, he pray’d to the banded Achaians
And the two Atridæ foremost, folk-marshalling heroes:
“Hear me, O Atridæ, O Achaians well to the greaves arm’d;
May the divine denizens of Olympus not disappoint you
Of Priam’s city sack’d, or of homeward safely returning;
But my dear daughter restore me, and here have a ransom;
Show reverence to the child of Jove, far-shooting Apollo.”
 
Then the common murmuers proclaim’d the desire of Achaians,
Showing honor to the priest, to receive so splendid a ransom.
No so at all minded prov’d Atreus-born Agamemnon,
Who with grim menaces dismiss’d, and sternly rebuk’d him:
“Thou’dst better, old father, no more be taken amongst us
Lingering, or back anew wending to the barks hollow-builded,
Lest not a whit wool-wreaths o’ the god, nor sceptre avail thee.
And I’ll not give her up, be assur’d, ere Age cometh o’er her,
Far from her own birthplace, within our habitation at Argos,
In labours o’ the loom employ’d, and my bed attending;
But go forth, irritate me not, lest hurt should arrest thee.”
 
He spoke, and th’ old man, terrefied, ’gan obey the commandment.
Down went he in silence to the beach, where loudly the sea frets;
Lonely then he wander’d, and call’d many times on Apollo,
Great paramount, brought forth by Leto comelily braided.
“Argent bow’s bender, that Chryse mightily guardest,
Great lord through Tenedos, through Killa’s bounds hallow’d-holy,
Hear me, if I’ve garnish’d thy beautiful halidom, hear me,
If once by me upon thine altar smoke hath ascended
From fat of herds or goats—this alone vounchsafe that I ask thee;
Let Danaans my tearshed atone, thine archery tasting.”
 
These he utter’d praying, not unheard by Phœbus Apollo,
Who started from Olympus’s heights, with his heart full of anger,
With quiver all garnish’d, and bow slung athwart his shoulders.
Loud his arrows knister’d in rear of the Power offended,
Answering his footfall, and like very night was his advent.
Soon sat he over against their ships, and dreadfully signall’d,
With that bow’s argent resonance, his first arrow’s onset.
Their mules and dapper hounds for a while at first he assaulted,
Then with deadly weapons he against themselves began aiming,
Till fires from death-piles were uninterruptedly burning.
 
REVIEW COMMENT

The subtitle of this translation—Homometrically Translated—is neither explained nor defended by the translator, so it is up to the reader, I suppose, to find some imaginatively useful rhythmic connection between the lines here and Homer’s hexameters. This translation, I believe, is one of the first to claim that it is based upon Homer’s own metre.  Cayley’s diction must qualify as one of the strangest in a long tradition of often strange choices (e.g., “halidom,” “Jove-exampling Achilles,” “denizens of Olympus,” and so on).  His phraseology can lead to  unintentionally (one assumes) humorous suggestions (like those arrows which “knister’d” in Apollo’s rear).  The spelling, too, is rather odd in places: “terrefied” and “comelily braided”, for example (misprints perhaps).  All in all, not a particularly noteworthy addition to the collection of translations of Homer, except for the Preface which is, well, quite splendid.  I quote it here in its entirety:

DONS, undergraduates, essayists, and public, I ask you,
Are these hexameters true-tim’d, or Klopstockish uproar,
Like “Wie’d den tausendmal Tausend der Todten Gottes einst seyn wird,”
Or like “that wonderful land, at the base of the Ozark mountains,”
Where “they found Andromeden and Persea, fairest of mortals?”
Such measure I’d never hear! sooner blank verse chloroform me,
Seesaw me couplets, gape for me sooner, immense Earth!

Readers who would like to access the full text of Cayley’s translation should use the following link: Cayley Iliad.

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