The Iliad (Wisehouse Classics Edition). Homer

an affection. But what can I say of the honour so many of the great have done me; while the first names of the age appear as my subscribers, and the most distinguished patrons and ornaments of learning as my chief encouragers? Among these it is a particular pleasure to me to find, that my highest obligations are to such who have done most honour to the name of poet: that his grace the Duke of Buckingham was not displeased I should undertake the author to whom he has given (in his excellent Essay), so complete a praise:

      “Read Homer once, and you can read no more;

      For all books else appear so mean, so poor,

      Verse will seem prose: but still persist to read,

      And Homer will be all the books you need.”

      That the Earl of Halifax was one of the first to favour me; of whom it is hard to say whether the advancement of the polite arts is more owing to his generosity or his example: that such a genius as my Lord Bolingbroke, not more distinguished in the great scenes of business, than in all the useful and entertaining parts of learning, has not refused to be the critic of these sheets, and the patron of their writer: and that the noble author of the tragedy of “Heroic Love” has continued his partiality to me, from my writing pastorals to my attempting the Iliad. I cannot deny myself the pride of confessing, that I have had the advantage not only of their advice for the conduct in general, but their correction of several particulars of this translation.

      I could say a great deal of the pleasure of being distinguished by the Earl of Carnarvon; but it is almost absurd to particularize any one generous action in a person whose whole life is a continued series of them. Mr. Stanhope, the present secretary of state, will pardon my desire of having it known that he was pleased to promote this affair. The particular zeal of Mr. Harcourt (the son of the late Lord Chancellor) gave me a proof how much I am honoured in a share of his friendship. I must attribute to the same motive that of several others of my friends: to whom all acknowledgments are rendered unnecessary by the privileges of a familiar correspondence; and I am satisfied I can no way better oblige men of their turn than by my silence.

      In short, I have found more patrons than ever Homer wanted. He would have thought himself happy to have met the same favour at Athens that has been shown me by its learned rival, the University of Oxford. And I can hardly envy him those pompous honours he received after death, when I reflect on the enjoyment of so many agreeable obligations, and easy friendships, which make the satisfaction of life. This distinction is the more to be acknowledged, as it is shown to one whose pen has never gratified the prejudices of particular parties, or the vanities of particular men. Whatever the success may prove, I shall never repent of an undertaking in which I have experienced the candour and friendship of so many persons of merit; and in which I hope to pass some of those years of youth that are generally lost in a circle of follies, after a manner neither wholly unuseful to others, nor disagreeable to myself.

      ³⁸ Preface to her Homer.

^39 Hesiod. Opp. et Dier. Lib. I. vers. 155, &c. .,

Book I.

       Argument. 1

THE CONTENTION OF ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON.

      In the war of Troy, the Greeks having sacked some of the neighbouring towns, and taken from thence two beautiful captives, Chryseis and Briseis, allotted the first to Agamemnon, and the last to Achilles. Chryses, the father of Chryseis, and priest of Apollo, comes to the Grecian camp to ransom her; with which the action of the poem opens, in the tenth year of the siege. The priest being refused, and insolently dismissed by Agamemnon, entreats for vengeance from his god; who inflicts a pestilence on the Greeks. Achilles calls a council, and encourages Chalcas to declare the cause of it; who attributes it to the refusal of Chryseis. The king, being obliged to send back his captive, enters into a furious contest with Achilles, which Nestor pacifies; however, as he had the absolute command of the army, he seizes on Briseis in revenge. Achilles in discontent withdraws himself and his forces from the rest of the Greeks; and complaining to Thetis, she supplicates Jupiter to render them sensible of the wrong done to her son, by giving victory to the Trojans. Jupiter, granting her suit, incenses Juno: between whom the debate runs high, till they are reconciled by the address of Vulcan.

      The time of two-and-twenty days is taken up in this book: nine during the plague, one in the council and quarrel of the princes, and twelve for Jupiter’s stay with the AEthiopians, at whose return Thetis prefers her petition. The scene lies in the Grecian camp, then changes to Chrysa, and lastly to Olympus.

      Achilles’ wrath, to Greece the direful spring

      Of woes unnumber’d, heavenly goddess, sing!

      That wrath which hurl’d to Pluto’s gloomy reign

      The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain;

      Whose limbs unburied on the naked shore,

      Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore. ²

      Since great Achilles and Atrides strove,

      Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove! ³

      Declare, O Muse! in what ill-fated hour ⁴

      Sprung the fierce strife, from what offended power

      Latona’s son a dire contagion spread, ⁵

      And heap’d the camp with mountains of the dead;

      The king of men his reverent priest defied, ⁶

      And for the king’s offence the people died.

      For Chryses sought with costly gifts to gain

      His captive daughter from the victor’s chain.

      Suppliant the venerable father stands;

      Apollo’s awful ensigns grace his hands

      By these he begs; and lowly bending down,

      Extends the sceptre and the laurel crown

      He sued to all, but chief implored for grace

      The brother-kings, of Atreus’ royal race ⁷

      “Ye kings and warriors! may your vows be crown’d,

      And Troy’s proud walls lie level with the ground.

      May Jove restore you when your toils are o’er

      Safe to the pleasures of your native shore.

      But, oh! relieve a wretched parent’s pain,

      And give Chryseis to these arms again;

      If mercy fail, yet let my presents move,

      And dread avenging Phoebus, son of Jove.”

      The Greeks in shouts their joint assent declare,

      The priest to reverence, and release the fair.

      Not so Atrides; he, with kingly pride,

      Repulsed the sacred sire, and thus replied:

      “Hence on thy life, and fly these hostile plains,

      Nor ask, presumptuous, what the king detains

      Hence, with thy laurel crown, and golden rod,

      Nor trust too far those ensigns of thy god.

      Mine is thy daughter, priest, and shall remain;

      And prayers, and tears, and bribes, shall plead in vain;

      Till time shall rifle every youthful grace,

      And age dismiss her from my cold embrace,

      In daily labours of the loom employ’d,

      Or doom’d to deck the bed she once enjoy’d