Iliad. A.

He went down from the peaks of Olympus, angered in his heart,
Having his bow on his shoulders and his covered quiver.
The arrows rattled on the shoulders of the angry god,
As he moved; and he went like the night.
He sat then apart from the ships, and let fly a shaft;
A terrible sound arose from the silver bow.
He went first after the mules and the swift dogs;
But then, letting fly a sharp-piercing bolt at the men themselves,
He struck; and the pyres of the dead were constantly burning.
For nine days the arrows of the god went throughout the army;
On the tenth, Achilles called the people to the assembly.
For the white-armed goddess Hera had put this into his mind;
For she cared for the Danaans, because she saw them dying.
When they were gathered, and were assembled,
Swift-footed Achilles stood up and spoke among them,

The speech of Achilles to the Achaeans.

Son of Atreus, now I think we, driven back,
Will sail home again, if we might escape death,
If war and plague together are to subdue the Achaeans.
But come, let us ask some seer, or priest,
Or interpreter of dreams; for even a dream is from Zeus.
Who might say why Phoebus Apollo is so enraged.
Whether he blames us for a vow unfulfilled, or for a hecatomb,
If perhaps he might want, by tasting the savor of lambs and perfect goats,
To ward off the pestilence from us.
Having said this, he sat down; and there stood up among them