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Homer, The Iliad (ed. Samuel Butler) 2 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding) 2 0 Browse Search
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Homer, The Iliad (ed. Samuel Butler), Scroll 20, line 340 (search)
the others and away from the thick of the fight, otherwise he will either hit you with a spear or cut you down at close quarters." Thus he spoke, and Hektor drew back within the crowd, for he was afraid when he heard what the god had said to him. Achilles then sprang upon the Trojans with a terrible cry, clothed in valor as with a garment. First he killed Iphition son of Otrynteus, a leader of many people whom a naiad nymph had borne to Otrynteus waster of cities, in the district [dêmos] of Hyde under the snowy heights of Mount Tmolos. Achilles struck him full on the head as he was coming on towards him, and split it clean in two; whereon he fell heavily to the ground and Achilles vaunted over him saying, "You be low, son of Otrynteus, mighty hero; your death is here, but your lineage is on the Gygaean lake where your father's estate lies, by Hyllos, rich in fish, and the eddying waters of Hermos." Thus did he vaunt, but darkness closed the eyes of the other. The chariots of the Ac
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding), Book 2, line 1 (search)
all thinges doth espye) Upon his childe that stood aloofe, agast and trembling sore At sight of such unwonted things, and thus bespake him thore: O noble ympe, O Phaeton which art not such (I see) Of whome thy father should have cause ashamed for to bee: Why hast thou traveld to my court? what is thy will with mee? Then answerde he: Of all the worlde O onely perfect light, O Father Phoebus, (if I may usurpe that name of right, And that my mother for to save hir selfe from worldely shame, Hyde not hir fault with false pretence and colour of thy name) Some signe apparant graunt whereby I may be knowne thy Sonne, And let mee hang no more in doubt. He had no sooner donne, But that his father putting off the bright and fierie beames That glistred rounde about his heade like cleare and golden streames, Commaunded him to draw him neere, and him embracing sayde: To take mee for thy rightfull Sire thou neede not be afrayde. Thy mother Clymen of a truth from falshood standeth free. And