The Iliads of Homer (George Chapman)

thumb| George Chapman was the first to translate the complete Homeric corpus into English verse. The Iliads of Homer was published in instalments from 1598 to 1611. This was followed in 1614 or 1615 by Homer's Odysses. In 1616 the epics appeared together, revised, in The Whole Works of Homer. The apocryphal Homerica appeared in 1624 as The Crowne of All Homers Workes. Quotes Book I <small>Alpha the prayer of Chryses sings: The army’s plague: the strife of kings.</small> Achilles’ baneful wrath resound, O Goddess, that impos’d Infinite sorrows on the Greeks, and many brave souls loos’d From breasts heroic; sent them far to that invisible cave That no light comforts; and their limbs to dogs and vultures gave; To all which Jove’s will gave effect; from whom first strife begun Betwixt Atrides, king of men, and Thetis’ godlike son. l. 1 Dog’s face, with heart but of a hart. l. 225 The cunning Pylian orator, whose tongue pour’d forth a flood Of more-than-honey-sweet discourse. l. 246 He said; and his black eyebrows bent; above his deathless head Th’ ambrosian curls flow’d; great heav’n shook. l. 513 The lady of the light, the rosy-finger’d Morn, Rose from the hills. l. 460 Heav’n’s great both-foot-halting God. l. 588 Book II <small>Beta the dream and synod cites; And catalogues the naval knights.</small> A most disorder’d store Of words he foolishly pour’d out, of which his mind held more Than it could manage; any thing, with which he could procure Laughter, he never could contain. He should have yet been sure To touch no kings; t’ oppose their states becomes not jesters’ parts. But he the filthiest fellow was of all that had deserts In Troy’s brave siege; he was squint-ey’d, and lame of either foot; So crook-back’d, that he had no breast; sharp-headed, where did shoot (Here and there spers’d) thin mossy hair. l. 181 (Thersites) Thy tents are full of brass; and dames, the choice of all, are thine, With whom we must present thee first, when any towns resign To our invasion. l. 195 Ye talk Like children all, that know not war. l. 293 (Nestor loq.) O father, all the sons Of Greece thou conquer’st in the strife of consultations. l. 325 (Agamemnon loq.) And as a fire upon A huge wood, on the heights of hills, that far off hurls his light; So the divine brass shin’d on these thus thrusting on for fight, Their splendour through the air reach’d heav’n. And as about the flood Caïster, in an Asian mead, flocks of the airy brood, Cranes, geese, or long-neck’d swans, here, there, proud of their pinions fly, And in their falls layout such throats, that with their spiritful cry The meadow shrieks again; so here, these many-nation’d men Flow’d over the Scamandrian field, from tents and ships; the din Was dreadful that the feet of men and horse beat out of earth. And in the flourishing mead they stood, thick as the odorous birth Of flow’rs, or leaves bred in the spring; or thick as swarms of flies Throng then to sheep-cotes, when each swarm his erring wing applies To milk dew’d on the milk-maid’s pails; all eagerly dispos’d To give to ruin th’ Ilians. And as in rude heaps clos’d, Though huge goatherds are at their food, the goatherds eas’ly yet Sort into sundry herds; so here the chiefs in battle set Here tribes, here nations, ord’ring all. l. 390 We only trust the voice of fame, know nothing. l. 415 The multitude exceed my song, though fitted to my choice Ten tongues were, harden’d palates ten, a breast of brass, a voice Infract and trump-like. l. 417 The fool Amphimachus, to field, brought gold to be his wrack, Proud-girl-like that doth ever bear her dow’r upon her back. l. 781 Book III <small>Gamma the single fight doth sing'Twixt Paris and the Spartan king.</small> thumb|What man can blame The Greeks and Trojans to endure, for so admir’d a dame, So many mis’ries, and so long? In her sweet count’nance shine Looks like the Goddesses. And as in well-grown woods, or trees, cold spiny grasshoppers Sit chirping, and send voices out, that scarce can pierce our ears For softness, and their weak faint sounds; so, talking on the tow’r, These seniors of the people sat; who when they saw the pow’r Of beauty, in the queen, ascend ev’n those cold-spirited peers, Those wise and almost wither’d men, found this heat in their years, That they were forc’d (though whispéring) to say: “What man can blame The Greeks and Trojans to endure, for so admir’d a dame, So many mis’ries, and so long? In her sweet count’nance shine Looks like the Goddesses.” l. 162 They could not choose but welcome her, and rather they accus’d The Gods than beauty. l. 177 Come, do not think I lay the wars, endur’d by us, on thee, The Gods have sent them, and the tears in which they swum to me. l. 182 (Priam loq.) That’s Agamemnon, Atreus’ son, the great in empery; A king, whom double royalty doth crown, being great and good, And one that was my brother-in-law, when I contain’d my blood, And was more worthy. l. 198 (Helen loq.) Two princes of the people yet, I nowhere can behold, Castor, the skilful knight on horse and Pollux, uncontroll’d For all stand-fights, and force of hand; ... My natural brothers; either here they have not followéd From lovely Sparta, or, arriv’d within the sea-born fleet, In fear of infamy for me, in broad field shame to meet. l. 263 (Helen loq.) Book IV <small>In Delta is the Gods’ Assize;The truce is broke; wars freshly rise.</small> Earth flow’d with blood. And as from hills rainwaters headlong fall, That all ways eat huge ruts, which, met in one bed, fill a vall With such a confluence of streams, that on the mountain grounds Far off, in frighted shepherds’ ears, the bustling noise rebounds: So grew their conflicts. l. 478 Book V <small>In Epsilon, Heav’n’s blood is shedBy sacred rage of Diomed.</small> Her heav’nly veil he strook ... Quite through, and hurt the tender back of her delicious hand. The rude point piercing through her palm, forth flow’d th’ immortal blood; Blood, such as flows in blesséd Gods, that eat no human food, Nor drink of our inflaming wine. l. 321 She should be making marriages, embracings, kisses, charms, Stern Mars and Pallas had the charge of those affairs in arms. l. 416 Thou many minds, inconstant changeling thou, ... Just of thy mother Juno’s moods, stiff-neck’d, and never yields, Though I correct her still, and chide. l. 883 (Jupiter to Mars) Book VI <small>In Zeta, Hector prophesies;Prays for his son; wills sacrifice.</small> Then comes the black increase Of griefs (like Greeks on Ilion). l. 446 (Andromache loq.) This said, he reach’d to take his son; who, of his arms afraid, And then the horse-hair plume, with which he was so overlaid, Nodded so horribly, he cling’d back to his nurse, and cried. Laughter affected his great sire, who doff’d, and laid aside His fearful helm, that on the earth cast round about it light; Then took and kiss'd his loving son, and (balancing his weight In dancing him) these loving vows to living Jove he us'd And all the other bench of Gods: “O you that have infus’d Soul to this infant, now set down this blessing on his star;— Let his renown be clear as mine; equal his strength in war; And make his reign so strong in Troy, that years to come may yield His facts this fame, when, rich in spoils, he leaves the conquer’d field Sown with his slaughters: ‘These high deeds exceed his father's worth.’” l. 507 On went his helm; his princess home, half cold with kindly fears; When ev’ry fear turn’d back her looks, and ev’ry look shed tears. l. 535 Book VII <small>In Eta, Priam’s strongest sonCombats with Ajax Telamon.</small> On earth, with ample pace, He boldly stalk’d, and shook aloft his dart with deadly grace. It did the Grecians good to see; but heartquakes shook the joints Of all the Trojans, Hector’s self felt thoughts, with horrid points, Tempt his bold bosom; but he now must make no counterflight, Nor, with his honour, now refuse, that had provok’d the fight. l. 186 All had enough; but Telamon, the king fed past the rest With good large pieces of the chine. l. 273 Priam commanded none should mourn, but in still silence yield Their honour’d carcasses to fire, and only grieve in heart. l. 357 As far as white Aurora’s dews are sprinkled through the air, Fame will renown the hands of Greece, for this divine affair. l. 374 Book VIII <small>In Theta, Gods a Council have.Troy’s conquest. Glorious Hector’s brave.</small> The cheerful Lady of the light, deck’d in her saffron robe, Dispers’d her beams through ev’ry part of this enflow’red globe. l. 1 This said, his brass-hoof’d wingéd horse he did to chariot bind, Whose crests were fring’d with manes of gold; and golden garments shin’d On his rich shoulders; in his hand he took a golden scourge, Divinely fashion’d, and with blows their willing speed did urge Mid way betwixt the earth and heav’n. To Ida: then he came, Abounding in delicious springs, and nurse of beasts untame, Where, on the mountain Gargarus, men did a fane erect To his high name, and altars sweet; and there his horse he check’d, Dissolv’d them from his chariot, and in a cloud of jet He cover’d them, and on the top took his triumphant seat, Beholding Priam’s famous town, and all the fleet of Greece. l. 36 The winds transferr’d into the friendly sky Their supper’s savour. l. 484 As when about the silver moon, when air is free from wind, And stars shine clear, to whose sweet beams, high prospects, and the brows Of all steep hills and pinnacles, thrust up themselves for shows, And ev’n the lowly valleys joy to glitter in their sight, When the unmeasur’d firmament bursts to disclose her light, And all the signs in heav’n are seen, that glad the shepherd’s heart. l. 487 Book IX <small>Iota sings the Ambassy,And great Achilles’ stern reply.</small> Book X <small>Kappa the night exploits applies:Rhesus’ and Dolon’s tragedies</small> Both the kings their dreadless passage bore Through slaughter, slaughter’d carcasses, arms, and discolour’d gore. l. 261 The earth did blush with blood. l. 413 Book XI <small>Lambda presents the General,In fight the worthiest man of all,</small> The city so adorn’d with tow’rs, the sea with vessels fill’d, The splendour of refulgent arms, the killer and the kill’d. l. 75 Book XII <small>My works the Trojans all the grace,And doth the Grecian fort deface.</small> And as in winter time, when Jove his cold sharp jav’lins throws Amongst us mortals, and is moved to white earth with his snows, The winds asleep, he freely pours, till highest prominents, Hill tops, low meadows, and the fields that crown with most contents The toils of men, seaports, and shores, are hid, and ev’ry place, But floods, that snow’s fair tender flakes, as their own brood, embrace; So both sides cover’d earth with stones, so both for life contend, To show their sharpness; through the wall uproar stood up an end. l. 289 His eyes were furnaces. l. 453 Book XIII The Greeks, with Troy’s bold pow’r dismay’d,Are cheer’d by Neptune’s secret aid. From whirlpits ev’ry way The whales exulted under him, and knew their king; the sea For joy did open; and, his horse so swift and lightly flew, The under axletree of brass no drop of water drew; And thus these deathless coursers brought their king to th’ Achive ships. l. 27 Book XIV In Ξ with sleep, and bed, heav’n’s QueenEv’n Jove himself makes overseen. The dreadful clamour rose To such a height, as not the sea, when up the North-spirit blows Her raging billows, bellows so against the beaten shore; Nor such a rustling keeps a fire, driven with violent blore Through woods that grow against a hill; nor so the fervent strokes Of almost-bursting winds resound against a grove of oaks; As did the clamour of these hosts, when both the battles clos’d. l. 327 Book XV Jove sees in O his oversight,Chides Juno, Neptune calls from fight. Book XVI In Πι̑ Patroclus bears the chanceOf death, impos’d by Hector’s lance. Book XVII In Rho the vent’rous hosts maintainA slaught’rous conflict for the slain. Book XVIII Sigma continues the alarms,And fashions the renownéd arms. Then from an anvil rose Th’ unwieldy monster, halt’d down, and all awry he went. He took his bellows from the fire, and ev’ry instrument Lock’d safe up in a silver chest. Then with a sponge he drest His face all over, neck and hands, and all his hairy breast; Put on his coat, his sceptre took, and then went halting forth, Handmaids of gold attending him, resembling in all worth Living young damsels, fill’d with minds and wisdom, and were train’d In all immortal ministry, virtue and voice contain’d, And mov’d with voluntary pow’rs; and these still wait’d on Their fi’ry sov’reign. l. 366 Book XIX Ταυ̑ gives the anger period,And great Achilles comes abroad. Book XX In Upsilon, Strife stirs in heav’n;The day’s grace to the Greeks is giv’n. The call Of Mars to fight was terrible, he cried out like a storm, Set on the city’s pinnacles; and there he would inform Sometimes his heart’nings, other times where Simois pours on His silver current at the foot of high Callicolon. And thus the bless’d Gods both sides urg’d; they all stood in the mids, And brake contention to the hosts. And over all their heads The Gods’ King in abhorréd claps his thunder rattled out. Beneath them Neptune toss’d the earth; the mountains round about Bow’d with affright and shook their heads; Jove’s hill the earthquake felt, (Steep Ida) trembling at her roots, and all her fountains spilt, Their brows all crannied; Troy did nod; the Grecian navy play’d As on the sea; th’ Infernal King, that all things frays, was fray’d, And leap’d affrighted from his throne, cried out, lest over him Neptune should rend in two the earth, and so his house, so dim, So loathsome, filthy, and abhorr’d of all the Gods beside, Should open both to Gods and men. Thus all things shook and cried, When this black battle of the Gods was joining. l. 50 As fire, fall’n in a flash from heav’n, Inflames the high woods of dry hills, and with a storm is driv’n Through all the sylvan deeps; and raves, till down goes ev’rywhere The smother’d hill; so ev’ry way Achilles and his spear Consum’d the champain, the black earth flow’d with the veins he tore. And look how oxen, yok’d and driv’n about the circular floor Of some fair barn, tread suddenly the thick sheaves thin of corn, And all the corn consum’d with chaff; so mix’d and overborne, Beneath Achilles’ one-hoof’d horse, shields, spears, and men, lay trod, His axle-trees and chariot wheels, all spatter’d with the blood Hurl’d from the steeds’ hooves and the strakes. Thus, to be magnified, His most inaccessible hands in human blood he dyed. l. 439 Book XXI Phy at the flood’s shore doth expressThe labours of Æacides. Then swell’d his waves, then rag’d, then boil’d again Against Achilles. Up flew all, and all the bodies slain In all his deeps (of which the heaps made bridges to his waves) He belch’d out, roaring like a bull. The unslain yet he saves In his black whirlpits vast and deep. A horrid billow stood About Achilles. On his shield the violence of the Flood Beat so, it drave him back, and took his feet up, ... The rage did terrify Ev’n his great spirit, and made him add wings to his swiftest feet, And tread the land. And yet not there the Flood left his retreat, But thrust his billows after him, and black’d them all at top, To make him fear, and fly his charge, and set the broad field ope For Troy to ’scape in. l. 219 The flood into a fire as bright as day was turn’d. Elms, willows, tam’risks, were inflam’d; the lote trees, sea-grass reeds, And rushes, with the galingale roots, of which abundance breeds About the sweet flood, all were fir’d; the gliding fishes flew Upwards in flames; the grov’lling eels crept upright; all which slew Wise Vulcan’s unresisted spirit. l. 331 Jove heard it, sitting on his hill, and laugh’d to see the Gods Buckle to arms like angry men. l. 362 Suddenly with her left hand she catch’d Both Cynthia’s palms, lock’d fingers fast, and with her right she snatch’d From her fair shoulders her gilt bow, and, laughing, laid it on About her ears, and ev’ry way her turnings seiz’d upon, Till all her arrows scatter’d out, her quiver emptied quite. And as a dove, that, flying a hawk, takes to some rock her flight, And in his hollow breasts sits safe, her fate not yet to die; So fled she mourning, and her bow left there. l. 444 Book XXII Hector, in Chi, to death is done,By pow’r of Peleus’ angry son. Book XXIII Psi sings the rites of the decease,Ordain’d by great Æacides. Book XXIV Omega sings the Exsequies,And Hector’s redemptory prise. The Rainbow to her feet tied whirlwinds, and the place Reach’d instantly. ll. 164–5 A great time Achilles gaz’d upon His wonder’d-at approach, nor ate; the rest did nothing see, While close he came up, with his hands fast holding the bent knee Of Hector’s conqueror, and kiss’d that large man-slaught’ring hand That much blood from his sons had drawn. And as in some strange land, And great man’s house, a man is driv’n (with that abhorr’d dismay That follows wilful bloodshed still, his fortune being to slay One whose blood cries aloud for his) to plead protectión, In such a miserable plight as frights the lookers on; In such a stupefied estate Achilles sat to see So unexpected, so in night, and so incredibly, Old Priam’s entry. All his friends one on another star’d To see his strange looks, seeing no cause. l. 420 thumb|Mourn not inevitable things; thy tears can spring no deeds To help thee, nor recall thy son; impatience ever breeds Ill upon ill, makes worst things worse. Mourn not inevitable things; thy tears can spring no deeds To help thee, nor recall thy son; impatience ever breeds Ill upon ill, makes worst things worse. l. 494 Troy swum in tears. l. 699 Quotes about Chapman's Homer Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold,    And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;    Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told    That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne:    Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies    When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez, when with eagle eyes    He stared at the Pacific—and all his men Look’d at each other with a wild surmise—    Silent, upon a peak in Darien. John Keats, "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer" The Examiner (1 December 1816); Poems (1817) External links George Chapman#Poet and translator Source text, digitised by Project Gutenberg: The Iliads of Homer (London: Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co. Ltd.; New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons) Category:Epic poetry