Iliad

"It was I, Achilles, who had the making of you; I loved you with all my heart: for you would eat neither at home nor when you had gone out elsewhere, till I had first set you upon my knees, cut up the dainty morsel that you were to eat, and held the wine-cup to your lips. Many a time have you slobbered your wine in baby helplessness over my shirt; I had infinite trouble with you, but I knew that heaven had granted me no offspring of my own, and I made a son of you, Achilles, that in my hour of need you might protect me. Now, therefore, I say battle with your pride and beat it; cherish not your anger for ever; the excellence [ aretê ] and might [ biê ] and honor [ timê ] of the gods are more than ours, but even gods may be appeased; and if a man has erred he prays the gods, and reconciles them to himself by his piteous cries and by frankincense, with drink-offerings and the savor of burnt sacrifice. For prayers are as daughters to great Zeus; halt, wrinkled, with eyes askance, they follow in the footsteps of Derangement [ Atê ], who, being fierce and fleet of foot, leaves them far behind him, and ever baneful to humankind outstrips them even to the ends of the world; but nevertheless the prayers come hobbling and healing after. If a man has pity upon these daughters of Zeus when they draw near him, they will bless him and hear him too when he is praying; but if he deny them and will not listen to them, they go to Zeus the son of Kronos and pray that he may presently fall into derangement [ atê ] - to his ruing bitterly hereafter.

IliadBook 9, Line 485Samuel ButlerEnglishVerse permalinkRead in Book 9

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