The Iliad. Homer

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       Not so Atrides; he, with haughty mien

       And bitter words, the trembling sire dismiss'd.

       The old man turn'd in sorrow; but his pray'r

       Phoebus Apollo heard, who lov'd him well.

       Against the Greeks he bent his fatal bow,

       And fast the people fell; on ev'ry side

       Throughout the camp the heav'nly arrows flew;

       A skilful seer at length the cause reveal'd

       Why thus incens'd the Archer-God; I then,

       The first, gave counsel to appease his wrath.

       Whereat Atrides, full of fury, rose,

       And utter'd threats, which he hath now fulfill'd.

       For Chryses' daughter to her native land

       In a swift-sailing ship the keen-ey'd Greeks

       Have sent, with costly off'rings to the God:

       But her, assign'd me by the sons of Greece,

       Brises' fair daughter, from my tent e'en now

       The heralds bear away. Then, Goddess, thou,

       If thou hast pow'r, protect thine injur'd son.

       Fly to Olympus, to the feet of Jove,

       And make thy pray'r to him, if on his heart

       Thou hast in truth, by word or deed, a claim.

       For I remember, in my father's house,

       I oft have heard thee boast, how thou, alone

       Of all th' Immortals, Saturn's cloud-girt son

       Didst shield from foul disgrace, when all the rest,

       Juno, and Neptune, and Minerva join'd,

       With chains to bind him; then, O Goddess, thou

       Didst set him free, invoking to his aid

       Him of the hundred arms, whom Briareus

       Th' immortal Gods, and men AEgeon call.

       He, mightier than his father, took his seat

       By Saturn's side, in pride of conscious strength:

       Fear seiz'd on all the Gods, nor did they dare

       To bind their King: of this remind him now,

       And clasp his knees, and supplicate his aid

       For Troy's brave warriors, that the routed Greeks

       Back to their ships with slaughter may be driv'n;

       That all may taste the folly of their King,

       And Agamemnon's haughty self may mourn

       The slight on Grecia's bravest warrior cast."

      Thus he; and Thetis, weeping, thus replied:

       "Alas, my child, that e'er I gave thee birth!

       Would that beside thy ships thou could'st remain

       From grief exempt, and insult! since by fate

       Few years are thine, and not a lengthened term;

       At once to early death and sorrows doom'd

       Beyond the lot of man! in evil hour

       I gave thee birth! But to the snow-clad heights

       Of great Olympus, to the throne of Jove,

       Who wields the thunder, thy complaints I bear.

       Thou by thy ships, meanwhile, against the Greeks

       Thine anger nurse, and from the fight abstain.

       For Jove is to a solemn banquet gone

       Beyond the sea, on AEthiopia's shore,

       Since yesternight; and with him all the Gods.

       On the twelfth day he purpos'd to return

       To high Olympus; thither then will I,

       And to his feet my supplication make;

       And he, I think, will not deny my suit."

      This said, she disappear'd; and left him there

       Musing in anger on the lovely form

       Tom from his arms by violence away.

      Meantime, Ulysses, with his sacred freight,

       Arriv'd at Chrysa's strand; and when his bark

       Had reach'd the shelter of the deep sea bay,

       Their sails they furl'd, and lower'd to the hold;

       Slack'd the retaining shrouds, and quickly struck

       And stow'd away the mast; then with their sweeps

       Pull'd for the beach, and cast their anchors out,

       And made her fast with cables to the shore.

       Then on the shingly breakwater themselves

       They landed, and the sacred hecatomb

       To great Apollo; and Chryseis last.

       Her to the altar straight Ulysses led,

       The wise in counsel; in her father's hand

       He plac'd the maiden, and address'd him thus:

       "Chryses, from Agamemnon, King of men,

       To thee I come, thy daughter to restore;

       And to thy God, upon the Greeks' behalf,

       To offer sacrifice, if haply so

       We may appease his wrath, who now incens'd

       With grievous suff'ring visits all our host."

       Then to her sire he gave her; he with joy

       Receiv'd his child; the sacred hecatomb

       Around the well-built altar for the God

       In order due they plac'd; their hands then washed,

       And the salt cake prepar'd, before them all

       With hands uplifted Chryses pray'd aloud:

      "Hear me, God of the silver bow! whose СКАЧАТЬ