Homer
The Iliad
translated by Edward Stanley, Earl of Derby
London 1864
[Sample
from the Opening of the Poem]
BOOK
I.
Of
Peleus’ son, Achilles, sing, O Muse,
The
vengeance, deep and deadly; whence to Greece
Unnumbered
ills arose; which many a soul
Of
mighty warriors to the viewless shades
Untimely
sent; they on the battle plain
Unburied
lay, a prey to rav’ning dogs,
And
carrion birds; but so had Jove decreed,
From
that sad day when first in wordy war,
The
mighty Agamemnon, King of men,
Confronted
stood by Peleus’ godlike son.
Say
then, what God the fatal strife provok’d?
Jove’s
and Latona’s son; he, filled with wrath
Against
the King, with deadly pestilence
The
camp afflicted,—and the people died,—-
For
Chryses’ sake, his priest, whom Atreus’ son
With
scorn dismiss’d, when to the Grecian ships
He
came, his captive daughter to redeem,
With
costly ransom charg’d; and in his hand
The
sacred fillet of his God he bore,
And
golden staff; to all he sued, but chief
To
Atreus’ sons, twin captains of the host:
“Ye
sons of Atreus, and ye well-greav’d Greeks,
May
the great Gods, who on Olympus dwell,
Grant
you yon hostile city to destroy,
And
home return in safety; but my child
Restore,
I pray; her proffer’d ransom take,
And
in his priest, the Lord of Light revere.”
Then
through the ranks assenting murmurs ran,
The
priest to rev’rence, and the ransom take:
Not
so Atrides; he, with haughty mien,
And
bitter speech, the trembling sire address’d:
“Old
man, I warn thee, that beside our ships
I
find thee not, or ling’ring now, or back
Returning;
lest thou prove of small avail
Thy
golden staff, and fillet of thy God.
Her
I release not, till her youth be fled;
Within
my walls, in Argos, far from home,
Her
lot is cast, domestic cares to ply,
And
share a master’s bed. For thee, begone!
Incense
me not, lest ill betide thee now.”
He
said: the old man trembled, and obeyed;
Beside
the many-dashing Ocean’s shore
Silent
he pass’d; and all apart, he pray’d
To
great Apollo, fair Latona’s son:
“Hear
me, God of the silver bow! whose care
Chrysa
surrounds, and Cilia’s lovely vale;
Whose
sov’reign sway o’er Tenedos extends;
O
Smintheus, hear! if e’er my offered gifts
Found
favour in thy sight; if e’er to thee
I
burn’d the fat of bulls and choicest goats,
Grant
me this boon—upon the Grecian host
Let
thine unerring darts avenge my tears.”
Thus
as he pray’d, his pray’r Apollo heard:
Along
Olympus’ heights he pass’d, his heart
Burning
with wrath; behind his shoulders hung
His
bow, and ample quiver; at his back
Rattled
the fateful arrows as he mov’d;
Like
the night-cloud he pass’d, and from afar
He
bent against the ships, and sped the bolt;
And
fierce and deadly twang’d the silver bow.
First
on the mules and dogs, on man the last,
Was
pour’d the arrowy storm; and through the camp,
Constant
and num’rous, blaz’d the fun’ral fires.
Review Comment
Derby’s
translation was generally well received by his contemporaries and has been
reprinted many times. Of all the Victorian blank verse
translations, it remains the most readable today is still worth experiencing if
one wants traditional blank verse with an ancient flavour: it is accurate,
clear, and fast (too fast for the taste of those who demand a weightier
hexameter line). His
style has not been infected by the often deleterious influence of Spenser or
Milton which afflicted so many of his fellow Victorian translators.
To
access the complete text of Derby’s translation, please use the following
link: Derby’s
Iliad (Gutenberg).
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