The IliadMachine readable text


The Iliad
By Homer
Translated by: Samuel Butler



Perseus Documents Collection Table of Contents


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Funded by The Annenberg CPB/Project
 

Book 1

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[1] Sing, O goddess, the anger [mnis] of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul [psukh] did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs

[5] and vultures, for so was the will of Zeus 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 Zeus and Leto; for he was angry with the king

[10] and sent a pestilence upon the host to plague the people, because the son of Atreus had dishonored 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 scepter of Apollo wreathed with a suppliant's wreath

[15] 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;

[20] but free my daughter, and accept a ransom for her, in reverence to Apollo, son of Zeus." 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,

[25] 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 scepter of the god and your wreath shall profit you nothing. I will not free her. She shall grow old

[30] 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

[35] and prayed apart to King Apollo whom lovely Leto had borne. "Hear me," he cried, "O god of the silver bow, you who protect Chryse and holy Cilla and rule Tenedos with your might, hear me O god of Sminthe. If I have ever decked your temple with garlands,