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Homer (Translated by Samuel Butler)

Homer (Translated by Samuel Butler)

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Published by aleitaosilva

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Published by: aleitaosilva on Dec 28, 2009
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The Iliad
Homer (Translated by Samuel Butler)
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The Iliad 
Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus,that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many abrave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and manya hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so werethe counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day on which theson of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first fell outwith one another.And which of the gods was it that set them on toquarrel? It was the son of Jove and Leto; for he was angrywith the king and sent a pestilence upon the host toplague the people, because the son of Atreus haddishonoured Chryses his priest. Now Chryses had come tothe ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and hadbrought with him a great ransom: moreover he bore in hishand the sceptre of Apollo wreathed with a suppliant’swreath, and he besought the Achaeans, but most of all thetwo sons of Atreus, who were their chiefs.‘Sons of Atreus,’ he cried, ‘and all other Achaeans, maythe gods who dwell in Olympus grant you to sack the cityof Priam, and to reach your homes in safety; but free my2
The Iliad 
daughter, and accept a ransom for her, in reverence toApollo, son of Jove.’On this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice werefor respecting the priest and taking the ransom that heoffered; but not so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely tohim and sent him roughly away. ‘Old man,’ said he, ‘letme not find you tarrying about our ships, nor yet cominghereafter. Your sceptre of the god and your wreath shallprofit you nothing. I will not free her. She shall grow oldin my house at Argos far from her own home, busyingherself with her loom and visiting my couch; so go, anddo not provoke me or it shall be the worse for you.’The old man feared him and obeyed. Not a word hespoke, but went by the shore of the sounding sea andprayed apart to King Apollo whom lovely Leto had borne.‘Hear me,’ he cried, ‘O god of the silver bow, thatprotectest Chryse and holy Cilla and rulest Tenedos withthy might, hear me oh thou of Sminthe. If I have ever decked your temple with garlands, or burned your thigh-bones in fat of bulls or goats, grant my prayer, and let your arrows avenge these my tears upon the Danaans.’Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his prayer. Hecame down furious from the summits of Olympus, withhis bow and his quiver upon his shoulder, and the arrows3
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