The Iliad of Homer
translated by William Sotheby
1831
[Sample from the Opening of the Poem]
Book I.
SING, Muse! Pelides’ wrath,
whence woes on woes
O’er the Achæans’ gather’d host arose,
Her chiefs’ brave souls untimely hurl’d from day,
And left their limbs to dogs and birds a prey;
Since first ’gainst Atreus’ son, Achilles strove,
And their dire feuds fulfill’d the will of Jove.
Why rag’d the chiefs? what god their fury swell’d?
JOVE and Latona’s son their wrath impell’d.
Incens’d against the king, Apollo spread
The plague that thickly strew’d the camp with dead:
For Atreus’ son, in insolence of pride,
His priest dishonouring, had the god defy’d,
When first, his captive daughter to release,
Time-honour’d Chryses sought the ships of Greece,
With richest ransom came, and suppliant bore
Round his gold rod the wreath the priesthood wore,
And all implor’d, but Atreus’ sons the most,
the lords and leaders of th’ assembled host.
“Kings and arm’d warriors! may consenting Jove,
“And all the dwellers of the realm above,
“Lay Troy in dust, and, charg’d with Ilion’s spoil,
“Guard you in triumph to your native soil!
“But my lov’d child restore: her ransom take,
“Nor the far-darting god’s fell wrath awake.”
The Greeks applauded: all with willing ear
Bent to receive the gifts, the priest revere;—
All, save Atrides, whose imperious mind
to insolent repluse harsh menace join’d.
“Ne’er may I more, ag’d priest, amid our fleet
“Thee, lingering now, or here returning, meet;
“Lest thou in vain extend thy golden rod
“And sacred fillet of they guardian god.
“I will not free thy daughter from my arms,
“Till age o’ershadow her diminsh’d charms.
“Ere then, far off, they child beneath my roof,
“At Argos, shares my couch and weaves my woof.
“Depart: nor longer here my rage excite—
“Away: so best thy safety find in flight.”
Hoar Chryses, shuddering, back his footstep bent,
And by the sounding deep in silence went,
Till far apart the hapless father pray’d,
And thus invok’d Apollo’s veneful aid:—
“God of the silver bow, whose sov’reign sway
“Thy Chrysa, Cilla, Tenedos obey,
“If e’er I wreath’d thy splendid shrine, or fed
“Thy altars flaming as the victims bled,
“Loose they avenging shafts, bid Greece repay
“Tears of a father turn’d in scorn away!”
Thus Chryses pray’d: his pray’r Apollo heard,
And heavenly vengeance kindled at the word.
He, from Olympus’ brow, in fury bore
His bow and quiver’s death-denouncing store.
The arrows, rattling round his viewless flight,
Clang’d, as the god descended dark as night.
Then Phœbus stay’d, and from the fleet apart
Launch’d on the host the inevitable dart,
And ever as he wing’d the shaft below
Dire was the twanging of the silver bow.
Mules and swift dogs first fell, then far around
Man felt the god’s immedicable wound.
REVIEW COMMENT
Sotheby’s couplets are not particularly memorable, and the need to maintain the regular rhythm and rhyme leads to some odd phrases (e.g., “immedicable wound”). So the translation offers a good example why couplets and Homer often tend not to go very well together (pace Alexander Pope).
Readers who would like to read more of Sotheby’s
translation should use the following link to Volume I: Sotheby
Iliad
.