The
Iliad
By Homer
Translated by Samuel Butler
London 1888
[Sample
from the Opening of the Poem]
Book
One
Sing,
O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills
upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and
many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so were
the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king
of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with one another.
And
which of the gods was it that set them on to quarrel? It was the
son of Jove and Leto; for he was angry with the king and sent a pestilence upon
the host to plague the people, because the son of Atreus had dishonoured Chryses
his priest. Now Chryses had come to the ships of the Achaeans to free
his daughter, and had brought with him a great ransom: moreover he bore
in his hand the sceptre of Apollo wreathed with a suppliant’s wreath and
he besought the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, who were
their chiefs.
“Sons
of Atreus,” he cried, “and all other Achaeans, may the gods who
dwell in Olympus grant you to sack the city of Priam, and to reach your
homes in safety; but free my daughter, and accept a ransom for her, in
reverence to Apollo, son of Jove.”
On
this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice were for respecting the
priest and taking the ransom that he offered; but not so Agamemnon, who
spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly away. “Old man,” said he,” let
me not find you tarrying about our ships, nor yet coming hereafter. Your
sceptre of the god and your wreath shall profit you nothing. I will not
free her. She shall grow old in my house at Argos far from her own home,
busying herself with her loom and visiting my couch; so go, and do not
provoke me or it shall be the worse for you.”
The
old man feared him and obeyed. Not a word he spoke, but went by
the shore of the sounding sea and prayed apart to King Apollo whom lovely Leto
had borne. “Hear me,” he cried, “O god of the silver bow, that protectest Chryse
and holy Cilla and rulest Tenedos with thy might, hear me oh thou of
Sminthe. If I have ever decked your temple with garlands, or burnedyour
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. He came down furious from
the summits of Olympus, with his bow and his quiver upon his shoulder, and
the arrows rattled on his back with the rage that trembled within him. He
sat himself down away from the ships with a face as dark as night, and his
silver bow rang death as he shot his arrow in the midst of them. First he
smote their mules and their hounds, but presently he aimed his shafts at
the people themselves, and all day long the pyres of the dead were burning.
Review
Comment
Butler’s
translation is among the best known and most popular prose translations of the Iliad—and
deservedly so. It
is accurate, unpretentious, and fluent. It
is also very accessible on the internet. Butler
was committed to rendering the Iliad in
contemporary English, but there’s still a strong sense of artificial
antiquarianism in some of the syntax and diction, a sense of Medieval chivalry
(in all fairness to Butler, many people do like that). Dover
Thrift Books used Butler’s translation for their edition of the Iliad.
Naturally
enough, there are eminent critics who have little use for Butler’s style:
“Samuel Butler, a rebel against Victorian primness, made a prose version that
he claimed was plain English but that ended up with the worst of both
alternatives. Not
only is his prose still mottled with fancy archaisms and inversions, his tone
can range from indecorous to downright vulgar” (Bernard Knox, qu. Young 132).
Readers
who would like to see the entire Butler translation should use the following
link: Butler
Iliad.
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