Homer, Iliad, Samuel Butler (Translator), 24.707

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At this there was not man nor woman left in the city, so great a sorrow [ penthos] had possessed them. Hard by the gates they met Priam as he was bringing in the body. [710] Hector’s wife and his mother were the first to mourn him: they flew towards the wagon and laid their hands upon his head, while the crowd stood weeping round them. They would have stayed before the gates, weeping and lamenting the livelong day to the going down of the sun, [715] had not Priam spoken to them from the chariot and said, “Make way for the mules to pass you. Afterwards when I have taken the body home you shall have your fill of weeping.”

Then the people stood asunder, and made a way for the wagon. [720] When they had borne the body within the house they laid it upon a bed 720 and they seated next to him [Hektor’s corpse] singers [ aoidoí] 721 who were to lead in the lamentations [ thrēnoi]. They sang a wailing song, 722 singing thrēnoi. And the women wailed in response, 723 and white-armed Andromache led them in the lamentation [ goos] as she clasped the head of mighty manslaughtering Hector in her embrace. [725] “Husband,” she cried, “you have died young, and leave me in your house a widow; he of whom we are the ill-starred parents is still a mere child, and I fear he may not reach manhood. Ere he can do so our city will be razed and overthrown, for you who watched over it are no more— 729 you who guarded it [730] and you protected the cherished wives and helpless children. Our women will be carried away captives to the ships, and I among them; while you, my child, who will be with me will be put to some unseemly tasks, working for a cruel master. [735] Or, may be, some Achaean will hurl you (O miserable death) from our walls, to avenge some brother, son, or father whom Hector slew; many of them have indeed bitten the dust at his hands, for your father’s hand in battle was no light one. [740] Therefore do the people mourn him. You have left, O Hector, sorrow unutterable to your parents, and my own grief [ penthos] is greatest of all, for you did not stretch forth your arms and embrace me as you lay dying, nor say to me any words that might have lived with me [745] in my tears night and day for evermore.”

Iliad. Homer. Samuel Butler (Translator). London. 1898.

Current edition Experimental

English (Butler, rev. Nagy et al., 2020) (OCR draft) (English) (English (Butler, rev. Nagy et al., 2020))

Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.

Editions (1)

Ἰλιάς Perseus (Homer. Homeri Opera, Volumes 1-2. Monro, D. B. (David Binning), editor; Allen, Thomas W. (Thomas William), editor. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1908-1920.) — 24.707 focus

ὣς ἔφατʼ, οὐδέ τις αὐτόθʼ ἐνὶ πτόλεϊ λίπετʼ ἀνὴρ

οὐδὲ γυνή· πάντας γὰρ ἀάσχετον ἵκετο πένθος·

ἀγχοῦ δὲ ξύμβληντο πυλάων νεκρὸν ἄγοντι.

πρῶται τόν γʼ ἄλοχός τε φίλη καὶ πότνια μήτηρ

710

τιλλέσθην ἐπʼ ἄμαξαν ἐΰτροχον ἀΐξασαι

ἁπτόμεναι κεφαλῆς· κλαίων δʼ ἀμφίσταθʼ ὅμιλος.

καί νύ κε δὴ πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα

Ἕκτορα δάκρυ χέοντες ὀδύροντο πρὸ πυλάων,

εἰ μὴ ἄρʼ ἐκ δίφροιο γέρων λαοῖσι μετηύδα·

715

εἴξατέ μοι οὐρεῦσι διελθέμεν· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα

ἄσεσθε κλαυθμοῖο, ἐπὴν ἀγάγωμι δόμον δέ.

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἳ δὲ διέστησαν καὶ εἶξαν ἀπήνῃ.

οἳ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσάγαγον κλυτὰ δώματα, τὸν μὲν ἔπειτα

τρητοῖς ἐν λεχέεσσι θέσαν, παρὰ δʼ εἷσαν ἀοιδοὺς

720

θρήνων ἐξάρχους, οἵ τε στονόεσσαν ἀοιδὴν

οἳ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐθρήνεον, ἐπὶ δὲ στενάχοντο γυναῖκες.

τῇσιν δʼ Ἀνδρομάχη λευκώλενος ἦρχε γόοιο

Ἕκτορος ἀνδροφόνοιο κάρη μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσα·

ἆνερ ἀπʼ αἰῶνος νέος ὤλεο, κὰδ δέ με χήρην

725

λείπεις ἐν μεγάροισι· πάϊς δʼ ἔτι νήπιος αὔτως

ὃν τέκομεν σύ τʼ ἐγώ τε δυσάμμοροι, οὐδέ μιν οἴω

ἥβην ἵξεσθαι· πρὶν γὰρ πόλις ἥδε κατʼ ἄκρης

πέρσεται· ἦ γὰρ ὄλωλας ἐπίσκοπος, ὅς τέ μιν αὐτὴν

ῥύσκευ, ἔχες δʼ ἀλόχους κεδνὰς καὶ νήπια τέκνα,

730

αἳ δή τοι τάχα νηυσὶν ὀχήσονται γλαφυρῇσι,

καὶ μὲν ἐγὼ μετὰ τῇσι· σὺ δʼ αὖ τέκος ἢ ἐμοὶ αὐτῇ

ἕψεαι, ἔνθά κεν ἔργα ἀεικέα ἐργάζοιο

ἀθλεύων πρὸ ἄνακτος ἀμειλίχου, ἤ τις Ἀχαιῶν

ῥίψει χειρὸς ἑλὼν ἀπὸ πύργου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον

735

χωόμενος, ᾧ δή που ἀδελφεὸν ἔκτανεν Ἕκτωρ

ἢ πατέρʼ ἠὲ καὶ υἱόν, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλοὶ Ἀχαιῶν

Ἕκτορος ἐν παλάμῃσιν ὀδὰξ ἕλον ἄσπετον οὖδας.

οὐ γὰρ μείλιχος ἔσκε πατὴρ τεὸς ἐν δαῒ λυγρῇ·

τὼ καί μιν λαοὶ μὲν ὀδύρονται κατὰ ἄστυ,

740

ἀρητὸν δὲ τοκεῦσι γόον καὶ πένθος ἔθηκας

Ἕκτορ· ἐμοὶ δὲ μάλιστα λελείψεται ἄλγεα λυγρά.

οὐ γάρ μοι θνῄσκων λεχέων ἐκ χεῖρας ὄρεξας,

οὐδέ τί μοι εἶπες πυκινὸν ἔπος, οὗ τέ κεν αἰεὶ

μεμνῄμην νύκτάς τε καὶ ἤματα δάκρυ χέουσα.

745

Translations (7)

Iliad Perseus (Homer. The Iliad, Volume 1-2. Murray, A. T. (Augustus Taber), translator. London: William Heinmann; New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1924-1925.) — 24.707 focus

So spake she, nor was any man left there within the city, neither any woman, for upon all had come grief that might not be borne; and hard by the gates they met Priam, as he bare home the dead. 710 First Hector's dear wife and queenly mother flung themselves upon the light-running waggon, and clasping his head the while, wailed and tore their hair; and the folk thronged about and wept. And now the whole day long until set of sun had they made lament for Hector with shedding of tears there without the gates, 715 had not the old man spoken amid the folk from out the car:

Make me way for the mules to pass through; thereafter shall ye take your fill of wailing, when I have brought him to the house.

So spake he, and they stood apart and made way for the waggon. But the others, when they had brought him to the glorious house, 720 laid him on a corded bedstead, and by his side set singers, leaders of the dirge, who led the song of lamentation—they chanted the dirge, and thereat the women made lament. And amid these white-armed Andromache led the wailing, holding in her arms the while the head of man-slaying Hector: 725

Husband, perished from out of life art thou, yet in thy youth, and leavest me a widow in thy halls; and thy son is still but a babe, the son born of thee and me in our haplessness; neither do I deem that he will come to manhood, for ere that shall this city be wasted utterly. For thou hast perished that didst watch thereover, 730 thou that didst guard it, and keep safe its noble wives and little children. These, I ween, shall soon be riding upon the hollow ships, and I among them; and thou, my child, shalt follow with me to a place where thou shalt labour at unseemly tasks, toiling before the face of some ungentle master, or else some Achaean shall seize thee by the arm 735 and hurl thee from the wall, a woeful death, being wroth for that Hector slew his brother haply, or his father, or his son, seeing that full many Achaeans at the hands of Hector have bitten the vast earth with their teeth; for nowise gentle was thy father in woeful war. 740 Therefore the folk wail for him throughout the city, and grief unspeakable and sorrow hast thou brought upon thy parents, Hector; and for me beyond all others shall grievous woes be left. For at thy death thou didst neither stretch out thy hands to me from thy bed, nor speak to me any word of wisdom whereon 745 I might have pondered night and day with shedding of tears.

Iliad Perseus (Homer. The Iliad of Homer, rendered into English prose for the use of those who cannot read the original. Butler, Samuel, 1835-1902, translator. London: Longmans, Green, and Co, 1898.) — 24.689 focus

689 When he heard this the old man was afraid and roused his servant. Hermes then yoked their horses and mules, and drove them quickly through the host so that no man perceived them. When they came to the ford of eddying Xanthos , begotten of immortal Zeus, Hermes went back to high Olympus , and dawn in robe of saffron began to break over all the land. Priam and Idaios then drove on toward the city lamenting and making moan, and the mules drew the body of Hektor. No one neither man nor woman saw them,

699 till Cassandra, fair as golden Aphrodite standing on Pergamos , caught sight of her dear father in his chariot, and his servant that was the city's herald with him. Then she saw him that was lying upon the bier, drawn by the mules, and with a loud cry she went about the city saying, "Come hither Trojans, men and women, and look on Hektor; if ever you rejoiced to see him coming from battle when he was alive, look now on him that was the glory of our city and all our ."

707 At this there was not man nor woman left in the city, so great a sorrow [ penthos] had possessed them. Hard by the gates they met Priam as he was bringing in the body. Hektor's wife and his mother were the first to mourn him: they flew towards the wagon and laid their hands upon his head, while the crowd stood weeping round them. They would have stayed before the gates, weeping and lamenting the livelong day to the going down of the sun, had not Priam spoken to them from the chariot and said, "Make way for the mules to pass you. Afterwards when I have taken the body home you shall have your fill of weeping."

718 On this the people stood asunder, and made a way for the wagon. When they had borne the body within the house they laid it upon a bed and seated minstrels round it to lead the dirge, whereon the women joined in the sad music of their lament. Foremost among them all Andromache led their wailing as she clasped the head of mighty Hektor in her embrace. "Husband," she cried, "you have died young, and leave me in your house a widow; he of whom we are the ill-starred parents is still a mere child, and I fear he may not reach manhood. Ere he can do so our city will be razed and overthrown, for you who watched over it are no more - you who were its savior, the guardian of our wives and children. Our women will be carried away captives to the ships, and I among them; while you, my child, who will be with me will be put to some unseemly tasks, working for a cruel master. Or, may be,

736 some Achaean will hurl you (O miserable death) from our walls, to avenge some brother, son, or father whom Hektor slew; many of them have indeed bitten the dust at his hands, for your father's hand in battle was no light one. Therefore do the people mourn him. You have left, O Hektor, sorrow unutterable to your parents, and my own grief [penthos] is greatest of all, for you did not stretch forth your arms and embrace me as you lay dying, nor say to me any words that might have lived with me in my tears night and day for evermore."

746 Bitterly did she weep the while, and the women joined in her lament. Hecuba in her turn took up the strains of woe. "Hektor," she cried, "dearest to me of all my children. So long as you were alive the gods loved you well, and even in death they have not been utterly unmindful of you; for when Achilles took any other of my sons, he would sell him beyond the seas, to Samos Imbros or rugged Lemnos ; and when he had taken away with his sword your life-breath [ psukhê] as well, many a time did he drag you round the sepulcher [ sêma] of his comrade - though this could not give him life - yet here you lie all fresh as dew, and comely as one whom Apollo has slain with his painless shafts."

760 Thus did she too speak through her tears with bitter moan, and then Helen for a third time took up the strain of lamentation. "Hektor," said she, "dearest of all my brothers-in-law-for I am wife to Alexander who brought me hither to Troy - would that I had died ere he did so - twenty years are come and gone since I left my home and came from over the sea, but I have never heard one word of insult or unkindness from you. When another would chide with me, as it might be one of your brothers or sisters or of your brothers' wives, or my mother-in-law - for Priam was as kind to me as though he were my own father - you would rebuke and check them with words of gentleness and goodwill. Therefore my tears flow both for you and for my unhappy self, for there is no one else in Troy who is kind to me, but all shrink and shudder as they go by me."

776 She wept as she spoke and the vast population [ dêmos] that was gathered round her joined in her lament. Then King Priam spoke to them saying, "Bring wood, O Trojans, to the city, and fear no cunning ambush of the Argives, for Achilles when he dismissed me from the ships gave me his word that they should not attack us until the morning of the twelfth day."

English (William Cullen Bryant, 1870) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (William Cullen Bryant, 1870)) — 24.707 focus

She spake, and suddenly was neither man

895

Nor woman left within the city bounds.

Deep grief was on them all; they went to meet,

Near to the gates, the monarch bringing home

The dead. And first the wife whom Hector loved

Rushed with his reverend mother to the car

900

As it rolled on, and, plucking out their hair,

Touched with their hands the forehead of the dead,

While round it pressed the multitude, and wept,

And would have wept before the gates all day,

Even to the set of sun, in bitter grief

905

For Hector's loss, had not the aged man

Addressed the people from his chariot-seat:

"Give place to me, and let the mules pass on,

And ye may weep your fill when once the dead

Is laid within the palace." As he spake,

910

The throng gave way and let the chariot pass;

And having brought it to the royal halls,

On a fair couch they laid the corse, and placed

Singers beside it, leaders of the dirge,

Who sang a sorrowful, lamenting strain,

915

And all the women answered it with sobs.

White-armed Andromache in both her hands

Took warlike Hector's head, and over it

Began the lamentation midst them all: -

"Thou hast died young, my husband, leaving me

920

In this thy home a widow, and one son,

An infant yet. To an unhappy pair

He owes his birth, and never will, I fear,

Bloom into youth; for ere that day will Troy

Be overthrown, since thou, its chief defence,

925

Art dead, the guardian of its walls and all

Its noble matrons and its speechless babes,

Yet to be carried captive far away,

And I among them, in the hollow barks;

And thou, my son, wilt either go with me,

930

Where thou shalt toil at menial tasks for some

Pitiless master; or perhaps some Greek

Will seize thy little arm, and in his rage

Will hurl thee from a tower and dash thee dead,

Remembering how thy father, Hector, slew

935

His brother, son, or father; for the hand

Of Hector forced full many a Greek to bite

The dust of earth. Not slow to smite was he

In the fierce conflict; therefore all who dwell

Within the city sorrow for his fall.

940

Thou bringest an unutterable grief,

O Hector, on thy parents, and on me

The sharpest sorrows. Thou didst not stretch forth

Thy hands to me, in dying, from thy couch,

Nor speak a word to comfort me, which I

945

Might ever think of night and day with tears."

English (Alexander Pope, 1720, ed. Watson, 1857) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Alexander Pope, 1720, ed. Watson, 1857)) — 24.707 focus

In thronging crowds they issue to the plains,

Nor man, nor woman, in the walls remains:

In every face the self-same grief is shewn,

And Troy sends forth one universal groan.

885

At Scæa's gates,¹ they meet the mourning wain,

Hang on the wheels, and grovel round the slain.

The wife and mother, frantic with despair,

Kiss his pale cheek, and rend their scatter'd hair;

Thus wildly wailing, at the gates they lay;

890

And there had sigh'd and sorrow'd out the day;

But godlike Priam from the chariot rose;

‘Forbear,’ (he cried) ‘this violence of woes;

‘First to the palace let the car proceed,

‘Then pour your boundless sorrows o'er the dead.’

895

The waves of people at his word divide;

Slow rolls the chariot through the following tide:

E'en to the palace the sad pomp they wait:

They weep, and place him on the bed of state.

A melancholy choir attend around,

900

With plaintive sighs and music's solemn sound:

Alternately they sing, alternate flow

Th' obedient tears, melodious in their woe;

While deeper sorrows groan from each full heart,

And nature speaks at every pause of art.

905

First to the corse the weeping consort flew;

Around his neck her milk-white arms she threw:

And, ‘Oh my Hector! oh my lord!’ she cries,

‘Snatch'd in thy bloom from these desiring eyes!

‘Thou to the dismal realms for ever gone!

910

‘And I abandon'd, desolate, alone!

‘An only son, once comfort of our pains,

‘Sad product now of hapless love, remains!

‘Never to manly age that son shall rise,

‘Or with increasing graces glad my eyes;

915

‘For Ilion now (her great defender slain)

‘Shall sink a smoking ruin on the plain.

‘Who now protects her wives with guardian care?

‘Who saves her infants from the rage of war?

‘Now hostile fleets must waft those infants o'er

920

‘(Those wives must wait them) to a foreign shore!

‘Thou too, my son! to barbarous climes shalt go,

‘The sad companion of thy mother's woe;

‘Driven hence a slave before the victor's sword,

‘Condemn'd to toil for some inhuman lord:

925

‘Or else some Greek, whose father press'd the plain,

‘Or son, or brother, by great Hector slain,

‘In Hector's blood his vengeance shall enjoy,

‘And hurl thee headlong from the towers of Troy.

‘For thy stern father never spar'd a foe:²

930

‘Thence all these tears, and all this scene of woe!

‘Thence, many evils his sad parents bore,

‘His parents many, but his consort more.

‘Why gav'st thou not to me thy dying hand?

‘And why receiv'd not I thy last command?

935

‘Some word thou would'st have spoke, which, sadly dear,

‘My soul might keep, or utter with a tear;

‘Which never, never could be lost in air,

‘Fix'd in my heart, and oft repeated there!’

Thus to her weeping maids she makes her moan:

940

Her weeping handmaids echo groan for groan.

English (Thomas Hobbes, 1667, ed. Molesworth 1843) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Thomas Hobbes, 1667, ed. Molesworth 1843)) — 24.707 focus

Then, man nor woman left was in the town,

But Hector to behold went to the gate.

First came his loving wife and mother down,

675

And in the waggon by him weeping sate.

The people in a throng about him staid

Lamenting and lamented had all day,

But Priam from his car unto them said,

Trojans, unto the body dead give way.

680

And when within the house I have it laid,

Then for him weep till you be satisfied.

When this was said, the people him obey'd,

And to make way, themselves they then divide.

Then to the house they brought the body in,

685

And plac'd it on a bed. Then singers by

They set, the lamentation to begin.

Their song they sung ; to which the women sigh.

Then to lament Andromache began.

Oh, my dear husband, you have lost your life

690

Unhappily, that were but a young man,

And made a wretched widow of your wife,

And with me left behind a tender son,

To evil fate begot by you and me.

To see him grow a man I hope have none ;

695

This city first I fear destroyed will be,

Since you are gone that was our sole defence.

T' Achaia now the wives of Troy must go,

And with them I. And you my child must hence,

And in vile work employ'd be by the foe,

700

Or you may by some spiteful man or other

Be from the wall or some high tower thrown,

For Hector's sake, that killed has his brother,

Or father, or his son before the town.

For many of the Greeks has Hector slain.

705

He went not to the battle bashfully.

For which the Trojans now are in great pain,

And I your loving wife especially.

O that you thus should in the dust be laid,

And not give me your hand before you died,

710

Without a word upon your death-bed said

For me to think on. Then the women sigh'd.

English (George Chapman, 1611, ed. Hooper 1857) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (George Chapman, 1611, ed. Hooper 1857)) — 24.707 focus

Now do it honour." Out all rush'd, woman nor man in Troy

625

Was left, a most unmeasur'd cry took up their voices. Close

To Scæa's ports they met the corse; and to it headlong goes

The reverend mother, the dear wife, upon it strow their hair,

And lie entranced. Round about the people broke the air

In lamentations; and all day had stay'd the people there,

630

If Priam had not cried : "Give way, give me but leave to bear

The body home, and mourn your fills." Then cleft the press, and gave

Way to the chariot. To the court herald Idæus drave,

Where on a rich bed they bestow'd the honour'd person, round

Girt it with singers that the woe with skilful voices crown'd.

635

A woeful elegy they sung, wept singing, and the dames

Sigh'd as they sung. Andromache the downright prose exclaims

¹²

Began to all; she on the neck of slaughter'd Hector fell,

And cried out: "O my husband, thou in youth bad'st youth farewell,

Left'st me a widow, thy sole son an infant, ourselves curs'd

640

In our birth made him right our child, for all my care that nurs'd

His infancy will never give life to his youth ere that

Troy from her top will be destroy'd; thou guardian of our state,

Though even of all her strength the strength, thou, that in care wert past

Her careful mothers of their babes, being gone, how can she last?

645

Soon will the swoln fleet fill her womb with all their servitude,

Myself with them, and thou with me, dear son, in labours rude

Shalt be employ'd, sternly survey'd by cruel conquerors ;

Or, rage not suffering life so long, some one, whose hate abhors

Thy presence (putting him in mind of his sire slain by thine,

650

His brother, son, or friend) shall work thy ruin before mine,

Toss'd from some tow'r, for many Greeks have ate earth from the hand

Of thy strong father; in sad fight his spirit was too much mann'd,

And therefore mourn his people; we, thy parents, my dear lord,

For that thou mak'st endure a woe, black, and to be abhorr'd.

655

Of all yet thou hast left me worst, not dying in thy bed,

And reaching me thy last-rais'd hand, in nothing counselled,

Nothing commanded by that pow'r thou hadst of me to do

Some deed for thy sake. O for these never will end my woe,

Never my tears cease." Thus wept she, and all the ladies clos'd

660

Her passion with a general shriek.

English (William Cowper, 1791, ed. Southey) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (William Cowper, 1791, ed. Southey)) — 24.707 focus

She spake. Then neither male nor female more

In Troy remain'd, such sorrow seized on all.

Issuing from the city-gate, they met

Priam conducting, sad, the body home,

And, foremost of them all, the mother flew

890

And wife of Hector to the bier, on which

Their torn-off tresses with unsparing hands

They shower'd, while all the people wept around.

All day, and to the going down of day

They thus had mourn'd the dead before the gates,

895

Had not their Sovereign from his chariot-seat

Thus spoken to the multitude around.

Fall back on either side, and let the mules

Pass on; the body in my palace once

Deposited, ye then may weep your fill.

900

He said; they, opening, gave the litter way.

Arrived within the royal house, they stretch'd

The breathless Hector on a sumptuous bed,

And singers placed beside him, who should chaunt

The strain funereal; they with many a groan

905

The dirge began, and still, at every close,

The female train with many a groan replied.

Then, in the midst, Andromache white-arm'd

Between her palms the dreadful Hector's head

Pressing, her lamentation thus began.

910

My Hero! thou hast fallen in prime of life,

Me leaving here desolate, and the fruit

Of our ill-fated loves, an helpless child,

Whom grown to manhood I despair to see.

For ere that day arrive, down from her height

915

Precipitated shall this city fall,

Since thou hast perish'd once her sure defence,

Faithful protector of her spotless wives,

And all their little ones. Those wives shall soon

In Greecian barks capacious hence be borne,

920

And I among the rest. But thee, my child!

Either thy fate shall with thy mother send

Captive into a land where thou shalt serve

In sordid drudgery some cruel lord,

Or haply some Achaian here, thy hand

925

Seizing, shall hurl thee from a turret-top

To a sad death, avenging brother, son,

Or father by the hands of Hector slain;

For He made many a Greecian bite the ground.

Thy father, boy, bore never into fight

930

A milky mind, and for that self-same cause

Is now bewail'd in every house of Troy.

Sorrow unutterable thou hast caused

Thy parents, Hector! but to me hast left

Largest bequest of misery, to whom,

935

Dying, thou neither didst thy arms extend

Forth from thy bed, nor gavest me precious word

To be remember'd day and night with tears.

New Alexandria Commentaries

Gregory Nagy

The Iliad ends with the funeral of Hector, not of Achilles. And it is Hector, not Achilles, who is lamented at the end. But it is Achilles who makes it all happen, since he has transcended his rage and has shown mercy to an old father. The tears of Priam had made Achilles think of his own old father, of his own ancestors—and of Patroklos, who embodied the glories of the ancestors. Achilles was looking bad at the beginning of Iliad 23 and even at the beginning of Iliad 24, but he looks very good by the time Iliad 24 comes to a close.

draft js image error Mourners lament as Hector’s corpse is laid out in preparation for the funeral that closes Iliad Rhapsody 24. Copperplate etching (1795) by Tommaso Piroli, after a drawing (1793) by John Flaxman. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

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The gods pity Hector and are on the verge of sending Hermes to hide the corpse of Hector, but this plan is vetoed by Hērā and Poseidon, in that order. They bear a grudge against Troy and Priam because of an atē ‘aberration’ of Paris=Alexandros. But the narrative concentrates only on Hērā, since the atē ‘aberration’ that the Master Narrator has in mind involves a direct insult to that goddess. On the story of that insult, see the comment on the verses that immediately follow.

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Homer Iliad 24.707

Samuel Butler (Translator)

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