CHAPTER XXIII.

THE GILGAMESH EPIC.

We have seen[844] that the religion of Babylonia permeates all branches

of literature, so that it is not always possible to draw a sharp

dividing line between sacred and secular productions.

To account for this, it is but necessary to bear in mind what the

previous chapters have aimed to make clear, that religion furnished the

stimulus for the unfolding of intellectual life, and that the literary

and scientific productions represent the work of men primarily

interested in religion. The significance attached as omens to heavenly

phenomena led by degrees to the elaborate astronomical system outlined

in the previous chapter. But the astronomers of Babylonia were priests,

and indeed the same priests who compiled the hymns and incantations.

What is true of astronomy applies to medicine, so far as medicine had an

existence independent of incantations, and also to law. The physician

was a priest, as was the judge and likewise the scribe.

It is natural, therefore, to find that what may be called the great

national epic of the Babylonians was of a religious character. The

interpretation given to the traditions of the past was religious. The

distant past blended with the phenomena of nature in such a way as to

form a strange combination of poetry and realism. But thanks to this

combination, which is essentially a process of the popular mind, the

production that we are about to consider brings us much closer to the

popular phases of the Babylonian religion than does the cosmology or the

zodiacal system.

After all, a nation is much more interested in its heroes and in its own

beginnings, than in the beginnings of things in general. Some

speculation regarding the origin of the universe is perhaps inevitable

the moment that the spirit of inquiry arises, but these speculations are

soon entrusted into the hands of a minority,--the thinkers, the priests,

the astronomers,--who elaborate a system that gradually separates itself

from popular thought and exercises little influence upon the development

of religious ideas among the masses.

The Book of Genesis passes rapidly over the creation of stars, plants,

and animals, as though anxious to reach the history of man, and when it

comes to the traditions regarding the ancestors of the Hebrews, the

details are dwelt upon at length and pictured with a loving hand.

Similarly among the Babylonians, there is a freshness about the story of

the adventures of a great hero of the past that presents a contrast to

the rather abstruse speculations embodied in the creation epic. In this

story, in which a variety of ancient traditions have been combined,

there is comparatively little trace of the scholastic spirit, and

although, as we shall see, the story has been given its final shape

under the same influences that determined the other branches of

religious literature, the form has not obscured the popular character of

the material out of which the story has been constructed.

The name of the hero of the story was for a long time a puzzle to

scholars. Written invariably in ideographic fashion, the provisional

reading Izdubar[845] was the only safe recourse until a few years ago,

when Pinches discovered in a lexicographical tablet the equation

Izdubar = Gilgamesh.[846]

The equation proved that the Babylonians and Assyrians identified the

hero with a legendary king, Gilgamos, who is mentioned by Aelian.[847]

To be sure, what Aelian tells of this hero is not found in the Izdubar

epic, and appears to have originally been recounted of another legendary

personage, Etana.[848] There is therefore a reasonable doubt whether the

identification made by Babylonian scholars represents an old tradition

or is merely a late conjecture arising at a time when the traditions of

Izdubar were confused with those of Etana. Still, since Etana appears to

be a phonetic reading and can be explained etymologically in a

satisfactory manner, the presumption is in favor of connecting Gilgamesh

with the hero of the great epic. For the present, therefore, we may

accept the identification and assume that in Aelian, as well as in the

sources whence he drew his information, Izdubar-Gilgamesh has been

confused with Etana.[849]

The ideographic form of the name is preceded invariably by the

determinative for deity, but the three elements composing the name,

_iz_, _du_, and _bar_, are exceedingly obscure. The first element is a

very common determinative, preceding objects made of wood or any hard

substance. The word for weapon is always written with this

determinative; and since Izdubar is essentially a warrior, one should

expect _dubar_ to represent some kind of a weapon that he carries. On

seal cylinders Gilgamesh appears armed with a large lance.[850] However

this may be, Jeremias' proposition to render the name as "divine judge

of earthly affairs"[851] is untenable, and the same may be said of other

conjectures.

The fact that the name is written with the determinative for deity must

not lead us to a purely mythical interpretation of the epic. There was a

strong tendency in Babylonia to regard the early kings as gods. Dungi

and Gudea, who are far from being the earliest rulers in the Euphrates

Valley, appear in tablets with the determinative for deity attached to

their names,[852] and it would be natural, therefore, that a hero

belonging to a remote period should likewise be deified. There can be no

doubt that there is a historical background to the Gilgamesh epic, and

there is equally no reason to question the existence of an ancient king

or hero who bore the name Gilgamesh. The deification of the hero

superinduced the introduction of mythical elements. It was an easy

process also, that led to tales which arose as popular symbols of

occurrences in nature, being likewise brought into connection with a

hero, who was at the same time a god.

The Gilgamesh epic thus takes shape as a compound of faint historical

tradition and of nature myths. The deified hero becomes more

particularly a solar deity. The popularity of the hero-god is attested

by the introduction of his name in incantations,[853] and by special

hymns being composed in his honor. One of these hymns,[854] of a

penitential character, is interesting as illustrating the survival of

the recollection of his human origin. Gilgamesh is addressed by a

penitent, who seeks healing from disease:

O Gilgamesh, great king, judge of the Anunnaki,

Prince, great oracle[855] of mankind,

Overseer of all regions, ruler of the world, lord of what is on earth,

Thou dost judge and, like a god, thou givest decisions,[856]

Thou art established on the earth, thou fulfillest judgment,

Thy judgment is unchangeable, thy [command is not revoked],

Thou dost inquire, thou commandest, thou judgest, thou seest, and

thou directest.

Shamash has entrusted into thy hand sceptre and decision.

It will be observed that Gilgamesh is appealed to as a 'king' and

'prince.' His dominion is the earth, and the emphasis placed upon this

circumstance is significant. In accord with this peculiar province of

the god, the hymn continues:

Kings, chiefs, and princes bow before thee,

Thou seest their laws, thou presidest over their decisions.

At the same time, his dependence upon Shamash is emphasized. As a minor

solar deity, he receives his powers from the great judge Shamash. This

double character of Gilgamesh furnishes the key to the interpretation of

the epic in which he is the central figure.

The poem in its final shape comprised twelve tablets of about three

thousand lines. Unfortunately only about half of the epic has been found

up to the present time. The numerous fragments represent at least four

distinct copies, all belonging to the library of Ashurbanabal. To

Professor Paul Haupt we are indebted for a practically complete

publication of the fragments of the epic;[857] and it is likewise owing,

chiefly, to Professor Haupt that the sequence in the incidents of the

epic as well as the general interpretation of the composition has been

established.[858]

The center of action in the first tablets of the series and in the

oldest portions of the epic is the ancient city Uruk, or Erech, in

southern Babylonia, invariably spoken of as _Uruk supuri_, that is, the

'walled' or fortified Uruk. A special significance attaches to this

epithet. It was the characteristic of every ancient town, for reasons

which Ihering has brilliantly set forth,[859] to be walled.[860] The

designation of Uruk as 'walled,' therefore, stamps it as a city, but

that the term was added, also points to the great antiquity of the

place,--to a period when towns as distinguished from mere agricultural

villages were sufficiently rare to warrant some special nomenclature.

From other sources the great age of Uruk is confirmed, and

Hilprecht[861] is of the opinion that it was the capitol of a kingdom

contemporaneous with the earliest period of Babylonian history. A

lexicographical tablet[862] informs us that Uruk was specially well

fortified. It was known as the place of seven walls and, in view of the

cosmic significance of the number seven among the Babylonians, Jensen

supposes[863] that the city's walls are an imitation of the seven

concentric zones into which the world was divided. However this may be,

a city so ancient and so well fortified must have played a most

important part in old Babylonian history, second only in importance, if

not equal, to Nippur. The continued influence of the Ishtar or Nana cult

of Erech also illustrates the significance of the place. It is natural,

therefore, to find traditions surviving of the history of the place.

The first tablet of the Gilgamesh epic contains such a reminiscence. The

city is hard pressed by an enemy. The misfortune appears to be sent as a

punishment for some offence.[864] Everything is in a state of confusion.

Asses and cows destroy their young. Men weep and women sigh. The gods

and spirits of "walled Uruk" have become hostile forces. For three years

the enemy lays siege to the place. The gates of the city remain closed.

Who the enemy is we are not told, and such is the fragmentary condition

of the tablet that we are left to conjecture the outcome of the city's

distress.

In the second tablet, Gilgamesh is introduced as a hero of superior

strength and in control of Uruk. Is he the savior of the city or its

conqueror? One is inclined to assume the latter, for the inhabitants of

Uruk are represented as complaining that Gilgamesh has taken away the

sons and daughters of the place. From a passage in a subsequent tablet

it appears that Uruk is not the native place of the hero, but

Marada.[865] Moreover, the name Gilgamesh is not Babylonian, so that the

present evidence speaks in favor of regarding the first episode in the

epic as a reminiscence of the extension of Gilgamesh's dominion by the

conquest of Uruk. When this event took place we have no means of

determining with even a remote degree of probability. The representation

of Gilgamesh on very ancient seal cylinders[866] warrants us in passing

beyond the third millennium, but more than this can hardly be said.

Gilgamesh is a hero of irresistible power. The inhabitants of Uruk

appeal for help to Aruru, who has created Gilgamesh:

He has no rival....

Thy inhabitants [appeal for aid?].

Gilgamesh does not leave a son to his father.

Day and night,...

He, the ruler of walled Uruk,...

He, their ruler,...

The strong, the preeminent, the cunning,...

Gilgamesh does not leave the virgin to [her mother],

The daughter to her warrior, the wife to her husband.

The gods [of heaven] hear their cry.

They cry aloud to Aruru, "Thou hast created him,

Now create a rival (?) to him, equal to taking up the fight against

him (?)."

So much at least is clear from the badly mutilated lines that Gilgamesh

has played sad havoc with the inhabitants of Uruk. In personal combat,

as it would appear, he has triumphed over the warriors of the place. The

son is taken away from his father, the virgins are taken captive,

warriors and husbands are snatched from those dear to them. Aruru is

here appealed to as the creator of mankind.[867] She who has created the

hero is asked to produce some one who can successfully resist Gilgamesh.

Aruru proceeds to do so.

Aruru, upon hearing this, forms a man of Anu.[868]

Aruru washes her hands, takes a bit of clay, and throws it on the

ground.

She creates Eabani, a hero, a lofty offspring, the possession of

Ninib.[869]

This creature Eabani is described as having a body covered with hair. He

has long flowing locks and lives with the animals about him.

Eating herbs with gazelles,

Drinking from a trough with cattle,

Sporting with the creatures of the waters.

The description evidently recalls man living in a savage state, and, to

judge from illustrations of Eabani on seal cylinders, the mythological

fancy of the period when strange monsters existed of hybrid formation,

half-man, half-beast, has influenced the conception of this strange

creature who is to combat the invincible Gilgamesh. But Gilgamesh

frustrates the plan. He sends a messenger known as _Sadu_, that is, 'the

hunter,' and described as a "wicked man," to ensnare Eabani.[870] For

three days in succession, the hunter sees Eabani drinking at the trough

with the cattle, but is unable to catch him. The sight of this 'wild man

of the woods' frightens the hunter. He returns to Gilgamesh for further

instructions.

Gilgamesh spoke to the hunter:

Go, hunter mine, and take with thee Ukhat

When the cattle comes to the trough,

Let her tear off her dress and disclose her nakedness.

He[871] will see her and approach her.

His cattle, which grew up on his field, will forsake him.

_Ukhatu_ is a name for a harlot devoted to the worship of Ishtar. Other

names for such devotees are _Kharimtu_[872] and _Kizritu_.[873]

Elsewhere the city Uruk is called "the dwelling of Anu and Ishtar, the

city of the _Kizreti_, _Ukhati_, and _Kharimati_"[874] and in a

subsequent tablet of the Gilgamesh epic[875] these three classes of

harlots are introduced as the attendants of Ishtar, obedient to her

call. The conclusion is therefore justified that Uruk was one of the

centers--perhaps the center--of the obscene rites to which

Herodotus[876] has several references. Several other incidental

allusions in cuneiform literature to the sacred prostitution carried on

at Babylonian temples confirm Herodotus' statement in general,[877]

although the rite never assumed the large proportions that he reports.

On the other hand, Herodotus does not appear to have understood the

religious significance of the custom that he designates as 'shameful.'

The name given to the harlot among Babylonians and Hebrews,[878]

_Kadishtu_ or _K'desha_, that is, 'the sacred one,' is sufficient

evidence that, at its origin, the rite was not the product of obscene

tendencies, but due to naive conceptions connected with the worship of

Ishtar as the goddess of fertility.

The introduction of Ukhat, however, as an aid to carry out the designs

of Gilgamesh is devoid of religious significance, and one is inclined to

regard the Eabani episode, or at least certain portions of it, as having

had at one time an existence quite independent of Gilgamesh's

adventures. The description of Eabani is, as we have seen, based upon

mythological ideas. The creation of Eabani recalls the Biblical

tradition of the formation of the first man, and Ukhat appears to be the

Babylonian equivalent to the Biblical Eve, who through her charms

entices Eabani away from the gazelles and cattle,[879] and brings him to

Uruk, the symbol of civilized existence.

It is significant that in the Biblical narrative, the sexual instinct

and the beginnings of culture as symbolized by the tree of knowledge are

closely associated. According to rabbinical traditions, the serpent is

the symbol of the sexual passion.[880]

Eve obtains control of Adam with the aid of this passion. In the episode

of Eabani, Ukhat, and the hunter--who, be it noted, plays the part of

the tempter--we seem to have an ancient legend forming part of some

tradition regarding the beginnings of man's history, and which has been

brought into connection with the Gilgamesh epic,--when and how, it is

impossible, of course, to say.

The hunter follows the instructions of Gilgamesh. Eabani falls a victim

to Ukhat's attractions.

Ukhat exposed her breast, revealed her nakedness, took off her

clothing.

Unabashed she enticed him.

The details of the meeting are described with a frank simplicity that

points again to the antiquity of the legend.

For six days and seven nights Eabani enjoyed the love of Ukhat.

After he had satiated himself with her charms,

He turned his countenance to his cattle.

The reposing gazelles saw Eabani,

The cattle of the field turned away from him.

Eabani was startled and grew faint,

His limbs grew stiff as his cattle ran off.

But Ukhat has gained control of him. He gives up the thought of gazelles

and cattle, and returns to enjoy the love of Ukhat. His senses return,

And he again turns in love, enthralled at the feet of the harlot,

Looks up into her face and listens as the woman speaks to him.

The woman[881] speaks to Eabani:

"Lofty art thou, Eabani, like to a god.

Why dost thou lie with the beasts?

Come, I will bring thee to walled Uruk,

To the glorious house,[882] the dwelling of Anu and Ishtar,

To the seat of Gilgamesh, perfect in power,

Surpassing men in strength, like a mountain bull."

It would appear from these lines that previous to the coming of Ukhat,

Eabani had satisfied his desire on the beasts. In Ukhat, however, he

found a worthier mate, and he accordingly abandons his former associates

to cling to her.

He yields and obeys her command.

In the wisdom of his heart he recognized a companion.[883]

In the continuation of the story Eabani becomes the companion of

Gilgamesh, but I venture to think that the title was transferred in the

development of the epic from Ukhat, to whom it originally belonged. It

is she who awakens in Eabani a sense of dignity which made him superior

to the animals. The word translated 'companion'[884] may be

appropriately applied to Ukhat. Eabani clings to her, as Adam does to

Eve after she 'is brought'[885] to him. Ukhat becomes Eabani's

'companion,' just as Eve becomes the 'helpmate' of Adam.

These considerations strengthen the supposition that the Eabani-Ukhat

episode is quite distinct from the career of Gilgamesh. Had the epic

originated in Babylon or Nippur, Eabani and Ukhat would have been

brought to Babylon or Nippur. As it is, Eabani asks Ukhat to conduct him

To the glorious dwelling, the sacred seat of Anu and Ishtar,

To the seat of Gilgamesh, perfect in power,

Surpassing men in strength like a mountain bull.

Unfortunately, the tablet at this point is defective,[886] and the

following three tablets are represented by small fragments only, from

which it is exceedingly difficult to determine more than the general

course of the narrative.

Ukhat and Eabani proceed to Uruk. There is an interesting reference to

'a festival' and to festive garments,[887] but whether, as would appear,

Ukhat and Eabani are the ones who clothe themselves[888] upon reaching

Uruk or whether, as Jeremias believes, a festival was being celebrated

at the place it is impossible to say. Eabani is warned in a dream not to

undertake a test of strength with Gilgamesh,[889]

Whose power is stronger than thine,

Who rests not, ... neither by day or night.

O Eabani, change thy ...

Shamash loves Gilgamesh,

Anu, Bel, and Ea have given him wisdom.

Before thou comest from the mountain

Gilgamesh in Uruk will see thy dream.[890]

Dreams play an important part in the epic. They constitute the regular

means of communication between man and the gods, so regular that at

times the compilers of the epic do not find it necessary to specify the

fact, but take it for granted. To Gilgamesh, Eabani's coming is revealed

and he asks his mother Aruru to interpret the dream.

The third and fourth tablets take us back to the history of Uruk.

Gilgamesh, aided by his patron Shamash, succeeds in gaining Eabani as a

'companion' in a contest that is to be waged against Khumbaba, who

threatens Uruk. The name of this enemy is Elamitic, and it has been

customary to refer the campaign against him to the tradition recorded by

Berosus of a native uprising against Elamitic rule, which took place

about 2400 B.C.[891] It must be said, however, that there is no

satisfactory evidence for this supposition. Elam, lying to the east of

the Euphrates, was at all times a serious menace to Babylonia.

Hostilities with Elam are frequent before and after the days of

Hammurabi. If Gilgamesh, as seems certain, is a Cassite,[892] the

conflict between him and Khumbaba would represent a rivalry among

Cassitic or Elamitic hordes for the possession of Uruk and of the

surrounding district. While the Cassites do not come to the front till

the eighteenth century, at which time the center of their kingdom is

Nippur, there is every reason to believe that they were settled in the

Euphrates Valley long before that period. The course of conquest--as of

civilization in Babylonia--being from the south to the north, we would

be justified in looking for the Cassites in Uruk before they extended

their dominion to Nippur. At all events, the conflict between Gilgamesh

and Khumbaba must be referred to a much more ancient period than the

rise of the city of Babylon as a political center.

Shamash and Gilgamesh promise Eabani royal honors if he will join

friendship with them.

Come, and on a great couch,

On a fine couch he[893] will place thee.

He will give thee a seat to the left.

The rulers of the earth will kiss thy feet.

All the people of Uruk will crouch before thee.

Eabani consents, and in company with Gilgamesh proceeds to the fortress

of Khumbaba. It is a long and hard road that they have to travel. The

terror inspired by Khumbaba is compared to that aroused by a violent

storm, but Gilgamesh receives assurances, in no less than three dreams,

that he will come forth unharmed out of the ordeal.

The fortress of Khumbaba is situated in a grove of wonderful grandeur,

in the midst of which there is a large cedar, affording shade and

diffusing a sweet odor. The description reminds one forcibly of the

garden of Eden, and the question suggests itself whether in this episode

of the Gilgamesh epic, we have not again a composite production due to

the combination of Gilgamesh's adventures with the traditions regarding

Eabani. Unfortunately the description of the contest with Khumbaba is

missing. There is a reference to the tyrant's death,[894] but that is

all. In the sixth tablet, Gilgamesh is celebrated as the victor and not

Eabani. We may conclude, therefore, that the episode belongs originally

to Gilgamesh's career, and that Eabani has been introduced into it. On

the other hand, for Eabani to be placed in a beautiful garden would be a

natural consequence of his deserting the gazelles and cattle,--the

reward, as it were, of his clinging to Ukhat. Separating the composite

elements of the epic in this way, we have as distinct episodes in

Gilgamesh's career, the conquest of Uruk and of other places,[895] and

his successful campaign against Khumbaba. With this story there has been

combined a popular tradition of man's early savage state, his departure

from this condition through the sexual passion aroused by Ukhat, who

becomes his 'companion,' and with whom or through whom he is led to a

beautiful garden as a habitation.

The sixth tablet introduces a third element into the epic,--a

mythological one. The goddess Ishtar pleads for the love of Gilgamesh.

She is attracted to him by his achievements and his personality. The

tablet begins with a description of the celebration of Gilgamesh's

victory. The hero exchanges his blood-stained clothes for white

garments, polishes his weapons, and places a crown on his head.

To secure the grace of Gilgamesh, the exalted Ishtar raises her eyes.

Come, Gilgamesh, be my husband,

Thy love[896] grant me as a gift,

Be thou my husband and I will be thy wife

I will place thee on a chariot of lapis lazuli and gold,

With wheels of gold and horns of sapphire (?)

Drawn by great ... steeds (?).

With sweet odor of cedars enter our house.

Upon entering our house,

... will kiss thy feet.

Kings, lords, and princes will be submissive to thee,

Products of mountain and land, they will bring as tribute to thee.

Ishtar appears here as the goddess of love and fertility. As such she

promises Gilgamesh also abundance of herds. But Gilgamesh rejects the

offer, giving as his reason the sad fate encountered by these who were

victims of Ishtar's love:

Tammuz, the consort of thy youth (?),

Thou causest to weep every year.

The bright-colored _allallu_ bird thou didst love.

Thou didst crush him and break his pinions.

In the woods he stands and laments, "O my pinions!"

Thou didst love a lion of perfect strength,

Seven and seven times[897] thou didst bury him in the corners (?),

Thou didst love a horse superior in the fray,

With whip and spur[898] thou didst urge him on,

Thou didst force him on for seven double hours,[899]

Thou didst force him on when wearied and thirsty;

His mother Silili thou madest weep.

In this way Gilgamesh proceeds to upbraid the goddess, instancing, in

addition, her cruel treatment of a shepherd, and apparently also of a

giant, whom she changed to a dwarf. The allusions, while obscure, are

all of a mythological character. The weeping of Tammuz symbolizes the

decay of vegetation after the summer season. The misfortunes that

afflict the bird, lion, and horse similarly indicate the loss of beauty

and strength, which is the universal fate of those who once enjoyed

those attributes. Ishtar, as the great mother, produces life and

strength, but she is unable to make life and strength permanent. Popular

belief makes her responsible for decay and death, since life and

fertility appear to be in her hand. Gilgamesh, as a popular hero, is

brought into association by popular traditions with Ishtar, as he is

brought into relationships with Eabani and Ukhat. A factor in this

association was the necessity of accounting for Gilgamesh's death. As a

hero, the favorite of the gods and invincible in battle, he ought to

enjoy the privilege of the gods--immortality. The question had to be

answered how he came to forego this distinction. The insult he offers to

Ishtar is the answer to this question. Knowing that Ishtar, although the

giver of life, does not grant a continuance of it, he who is produced by

Aruru will have nothing to do with the great goddess. But his refusal

leads to a dire punishment, more disastrous even than the alliance with

Ishtar, which would have culminated in his being eventually shorn of his

strength.

Ishtar, determined that Gilgamesh should not escape her, flies in rage

to her father Anu, the god of heaven, and tells of the manner in which

she has been treated. Anu comforts her. Yielding to Ishtar's request he

creates a divine bull, known as Alu, _i.e._, the strong or supreme

one,[900] who is to destroy Gilgamesh. At this point in the narrative

Eabani is again introduced. Gilgamesh and Eabani together proceed to the

contest with the bull, as they formerly proceeded against Khumbaba. On

seal cylinders this fight is frequently pictured.[901] In agreement with

the description in the narrative, Eabani takes hold of the tail of the

animal, while Gilgamesh despatches him by driving a spear into the

bull's heart. Ishtar's plan is thus frustrated.

Ishtar mounts the wall of walled Uruk.

In violent rage she pronounces a curse:

"Cursed be Gilgamesh, who has enraged me,

Who has killed the divine bull."

Eabani adds insult to injury by challenging the goddess.

Eabani, upon hearing these words of Ishtar,

Takes the carcass (?) of the divine bull and throws it into her face.

Woe to thee! I will subdue thee,

I will do to thee as I have done to him.[902]

The mythological motives that prompted the introduction of Ishtar into

this tablet now become apparent. The division of the epic into twelve

parts is due to scholastic influences. It is certainly not accidental

that the calendar also consists of twelve months. While it is by no

means the case that each tablet corresponds to some month, still in the

case of the sixth and, as we shall see, in the case of the seventh and

eleventh tablets, this correspondence is certain. The sixth month is

designated as the month of the "Mission of Ishtar." What this mission is

we shall see in a subsequent chapter.[903] In this month was celebrated

a festival to Tammuz, the young bridegroom of Ishtar, who is slain by

the goddess. The prophet Ezekiel gives us a picture of the weeping for

Tammuz,[904] which formed the chief ceremony of the day.

It is this character of the month that accounts not only for the

introduction of the Ishtar episode in the sixth tablet, but which finds

further illustrations in the mourning which Ishtar and her attendants

indulge in after the death of the divine bull.

Ishtar assembled the Kizreti,

Ukhalti and Kharimati.

Over the carcass of Alu they raised a lamentation.

These three classes of sacred prostitutes have already been dwelt

upon.[905] With more material at our disposal regarding the cult of

Ishtar or Nana of Erech, we would be in a position to specify the

character of the rites performed at this temple. The statements of

Herodotus and of other writers suffice, however, to show that the three

terms represent classes of priestesses attached to the temple. In this

respect the Ishtar cult of Erech was not unique, for we have references

to priestesses elsewhere. However, the function of the priestess in

religious history differs materially from that of the priest. She is not

a mediator between the god and his subjects, nor is she a representative

of the deity. It is as a 'witch,' that by virtue of the association of

ideas above set forth,[906] she is able to determine the intentions of

the gods. Her power to do harm is supplemented by her ability to furnish

oracles. In this capacity we have already come across her,[907] and we

may assume that giving oracles constituted a chief function of the

priestess in Babylonia. It was furthermore natural to conclude that as a

'witch' and 'oracle-giver,' the priestess belonged to the deity from

whom she derived her power. When we come to the cult of a goddess like

Ishtar, who is the symbol of fertility, observances that illustrated

this central notion would naturally form an ingredient part of that

'sympathetic magic,'--the imitation of an action in order to produce the

reality--which dominates so large a proportion of early religious

ceremonialism. Among many nations the mysterious aspects of woman's

fertility lead to rites that by a perversion of their original import

appear to be obscene.[908] In the reference to the three classes of

sacred prostitutes, we have an evidence that the Babylonian worship

formed no exception to the rule. But with this proposition that the

prostitutes were priestesses attached to the Ishtar cult and who look

part in ceremonies intended to symbolize fertility, we must for the

present rest content.

Gilgamesh, secure in his victory, proceeds to offer the horns of the

divine bull to his patron Lugal-Marada, the 'king' of Marad, and who

appears to be identical with Shamash himself. The offering is

accompanied by gifts to the sanctuary of precious stones and oil. There

is general rejoicing.

The episode of Gilgamesh's contest with the bull also belongs to the

mythological phases of the epic. The bull is in Babylonian

mythology[909] as among other nations a symbol of the storm. It is in

his role as a solar deity that Gilgamesh triumphs over the storm sent by

Anu, that is, from on high. In the following chapter, we will come

across another form of this same myth suggested evidently, as was the

fight of Marduk with Tiamat, by the annual storms raging in Babylonia.

Gilgamesh triumphs as does Marduk, but when once the summer solstice,

which represents the sun's triumph, is past, the decline of the sun's

strength begins to set in. This is indicated by the subsequent course of

the narrative.

The scene of rejoicing at Gilgamesh's triumph is changed to one of

sadness. Eabani is snatched away from Gilgamesh. The few fragments of

the seventh and eighth tablets do not suffice for determining exactly in

what way this happened, but Ishtar is evidently the cause of the

misfortune. A fatal illness, it would seem, seizes hold of

Eabani,--whether as the result of a further contest or directly sent, it

is impossible to say. For twelve days he lingers and then is taken away.

As usual, the catastrophe is foreseen in dreams. For a third time[910]

he sees a vision of fire and lightning, which forebodes the end.

The fragmentary condition of the epic at this point is particularly

unfortunate. There is a reference to Nippur,[911] of which it would be

important to know the purpose.

The relationship between Gilgamesh and Eabani would be much clearer if

the seventh and eighth tablets were preserved in good condition. The

disappearance of Eabani before the end of the epic confirms, however,

the view here maintained, that the career of Eabani was originally quite

independent of Gilgamesh's adventures. His death is as superfluous as is

his association with Eabani. In all critical moments Gilgamesh appears

to stand alone. He conquers Uruk, and it is he who celebrates the

victory of the divine bull. The subsequent course of the narrative after

Eabani's death, except for the frequent mention of Gilgamesh's lament

for his companion, proceeds undisturbed. Moreover, Eabani's punishment

appears to be identical with that meted out to Gilgamesh. The latter is

also stricken with disease, but in his case, the disease has a meaning

that fits in with the mythological phases of the epic. The seventh

month--the one following the summer solstice--marks the beginning of a

turning-point in the year. As the year advances, vegetation diminishes,

and the conclusion was naturally drawn that the sun upon whom vegetation

depended had lost some of his force. This loss of strength is pictured

as a disease with which the sun is afflicted. In this way, the seventh

tablet--and possibly also the eighth--continues the nature myth embodied

in the sixth.

Haupt has ingeniously conjectured that the sickness which affects

Gilgamesh is of a venereal character. The hero wanders about in search

of healing. His suffering is increased by his deep sorrow over the loss

of his 'companion.' The death of Eabani presages his own destruction,

and he dreads the dreary fate in store for him. The ninth tablet

introduces us to this situation.

Gilgamesh weeps for his companion Eabani.

In distress he is stretched out on the ground.[912]

'I will not die like Eabani.

Sorrow has entered my body.

Through fear of death, I lie stretched out on the ground.'

He determines to seek out a mysterious personage, whom he calls

Parnapishtim,[913] the son of Kidin-Marduk.[914] This personage has in

some way escaped the fate of mankind and enjoys immortal life. He is

called the "distant one." His dwelling is far off, "at the confluence of

the streams." The road to the place is full of dangers, but Gilgamesh,

undaunted, undertakes the journey. The hero himself furnishes the

description.

I came to a glen at night,

Lions I saw and was afraid.

I raised my head and prayed to Sin.

To the leader (?) of the gods my prayer came.

[He heard my prayer (?)], and was gracious to me.

On many seal cylinders and on monuments, Gilgamesh is pictured in the

act of fighting with or strangling a lion. In the preserved portions of

the epic no reference to this contest has been found.[915] We should

look for it at this point of the narrative. The following lines contain

a reference to weapons,--ax and sword,--and in so far justify the

supposition that some contest takes place. But the text is too mutilated

to warrant further conjectures. After escaping from the danger

occasioned by the lions, Gilgamesh comes to the mountain Mashu, which is

described as a place of terrors, the entrance to which is guarded by

'scorpion-men.'

He reached the mountain Mashu,

Whose exit is daily guarded, ...

Whose back extends to the dam of heaven,

And whose breast[916] reaches to Aralu;[917]

Scorpion-men guard its gate,

Of terror-inspiring aspect, whose appearance is deadly,

Of awful splendor, shattering mountains.

At sunrise and sunset they keep guard over the sun.

It will be recalled that the earth is pictured by the Babylonians as a

mountain. The description of Mashu is dependent upon this conception.

The mountain seems to be coextensive with the earth. The dam of heaven

is the point near which the sun rises, and if the scorpion-men guard the

sun at sunrise and sunset, the mountain must extend across to the gate

through which the sun passes at night to dip into the great _Apsu_.[918]

Aralu is situated under the earth, and Mashu, reaching down to Aralu,

must be again coextensive with the earth in this direction. The

description of Mashu accordingly is a reflex of the cosmological

conceptions developed in Babylonia. The scorpion-men pictured on seal

cylinders[919] belong to the mythical monsters, half-man, half-beast,

with which the world was peopled at the beginning of things. However,

there is also an historical background to the description. The name

Mashu appears in texts as the Arabian desert to the west and southwest

of the Euphrates Valley.[920] It is called a land of dryness, where

neither birds nor gazelles nor wild asses are found. Even the bold

Assyrian armies hesitated before passing through this region. In the

light of the early relationships between Babylonia and Arabia,[921] this

reference to Mashu may embody a tradition of some expedition to Southern

Arabia.[922] Beyond Mashu lay a great sea,--perhaps the Arabian

Sea,--which Gilgamesh is obliged to cross ere he reaches his goal.

Gilgamesh is terrified at the sight of these scorpion-men but the latter

have received notice of his coming and permit him to pass through the

gate.

A scorpion-man addresses his wife:

"He who comes to us is of divine appearance."

The wife of the scorpion-man agrees that Gilgamesh is in part divine,

but she adds that in part he is human. In further conversation, the

scorpion-man announces that it is by express command of the gods that

Gilgamesh has come to the mountain. Gilgamesh approaches and tells the

scorpion-man of his purpose. The hero, recovering his courage, is not

held back by the description that the scorpion-man gives him of the

dangers that beset the one who ventures to enter the dreadful district.

The gate is opened and the journey begins.

He gropes his way for one double hour,

With dense darkness enclosing him on all sides.

He gropes his way for two double hours,

With dense darkness enclosing him on all sides.

After traversing a distance of twenty-four hours' march, Gilgamesh

beholds a tree of splendid appearance, decorated with precious stones

and bearing beautiful fruit. Finally he reaches the sea, where the

maiden Sabitum has her palace and throne. Upon seeing the hero, the

maiden locks the gates of her palace and will not permit Gilgamesh to

pass across the sea. Gilgamesh pleads with Sabitum, tells of the loss of

his friend Eabani, 'who has become dust,'[923] and whose fate he does

not wish to share.

Gilgamesh speaks to Sabitum:

"[Now] Sabitum, which is the way to Parnapishtim?

If it is possible, let me cross the ocean.

If it is not possible, let me stretch myself on the ground."[924]

Sabitum speaks to Gilgamesh:

"O Gilgamesh! there has never been a ferry,

And no one has ever crossed the ocean.

Shamash, the hero, has crossed it, but except Shamash, who can cross

it?

Difficult is the passage, very difficult the path.

Impassible (?) the waters of death that are guarded by a bolt.

How canst thou, O Gilgamesh, traverse the ocean?

And after thou hast crossed the waters of death, what wilt thou do?"

Sabitum then tells Gilgamesh that there is one possibility of his

accomplishing his task. If Ardi-Ea,[925] the ferryman[926] of

Parnapishtim, will take Gilgamesh across, well and good; if not, he must

abandon all hope.

The ocean, though not expressly called _Apsu_, is evidently identical

with the great body of waters supposed to both surround the earth and to

flow beneath it.[927] The reference to 'the waters of death' thus

becomes clear. The gathering-place of the dead being under the earth,

near to the _Apsu_, the great 'Okeanos' forms a means of approach to the

nether world. It is into this ocean, forming part of the _Apsu_, that

the sun dips at evening and through which it passes during the night.

The scene between Gilgamesh and Sabitum accordingly is suggested, in

part, by the same cosmological conceptions that condition the

description of the mountain Mashu.

Sabitum herself is a figure that still awaits satisfactory explanation.

She is called the goddess Siduri.[928] The name of this goddess is found

as an element in proper names, but of her traits we know nothing.

Sabitum appears originally to have been a term descriptive of her, and

Hommel[929] may be right in explaining the name as 'the one from

Sabu,'[930] and in taking the latter as the name of a district in

Arabia. It is tempting to think of the famous Saba in Southern Arabia.

Obedient to the advice of Sabitum, Gilgamesh tells Ardi-Ea his story and

also his desire.

Now Ardi-Ea, which is the way to [Parnapishtim?].

If it is possible, let me cross the ocean,

And if not possible, let me lie outstretched on the ground.

Ardi-Ea consents, and tells Gilgamesh to take his ax, to go into the

woods, and to cut down a large pole that may serve as a rudder.

Gilgamesh, upon hearing this,

Takes an ax in his hand, ...

Goes to the wood and makes a rudder five gar[931] long.

Gilgamesh and Ardi-Ea mount the ship.

...

The ship tosses from side to side.

After a course of one month and fifteen days, on the third day[932]

Ardi-Ea reaches the waters of death.

This appears to be the most dangerous part of the voyage. Ardi-Ea urges

Gilgamesh to cling to the rudder, and counts the strokes he is to

take.[933] The waters are not extensive, for only twelve strokes are

enumerated; but the current is so strong that it is with the utmost

difficulty that Gilgamesh succeeds in passing through them. At last,

Gilgamesh is face to face with Parnapishtim. The latter is astonished to

see a living person come across the waters. Gilgamesh addresses

Parnapishtim from the ship, recounts his deeds, among which we

distinguish[934] the killing of a panther, of Alu, of the divine bull,

and of Khumbaba. The death of Eabani is also dwelt upon, and then

Gilgamesh pleads with Parnapishtim, tells him of the long, difficult way

that he has traveled, and of all that he has encountered on the road.

Difficult lands I passed through,

All seas I crossed.

Parnapishtim expresses his sympathy:

Gilgamesh has filled his heart with woe,

But neither gods nor men [can help him (?)].

Parnapishtim thereupon addresses Gilgamesh, showing him how impossible

it is for any mortal to escape death. The inexorable law will prevail as

long as 'houses continue to be built,' as long as 'friendships' and

'hostilities' prevail, as long 'as the waters fill (?) the sea.' The

Anunnaki, the great gods, and the goddess Mammitum, the creators of

everything

Determine death and life.

No one knows the days of death.[935]

At this point Gilgamesh propounds a most natural question: How comes it,

if what Parnapishtim says is true, that the latter is alive, while

possessing all the traits of a human being? The eleventh tablet of the

epic begins:

Gilgamesh speaks to him, to Parnapishtim, the far-removed:

"I gaze at thee in amazement, Parnapishtim.

Thy appearance is normal. As I am, so art thou.

Thy entire nature[936] is normal. As I am, so art thou.

Thou art completely equipped for the fray.[937]

Armor[938] (?) thou hast placed upon thee.

Tell me how thou didst come to obtain eternal life among the gods."

In reply, Parnapishtim tells the story of his escape from the common

fate of mankind. The story is a long one and has no connection with the

career of Gilgamesh. It embodies a recollection of a rain-storm that

once visited a city, causing a general destruction, but from which

Parnapishtim and his family miraculously escaped. The main purport of

the tale is not to emphasize this miracle, but the far greater one that,

after having been saved from the catastrophe, Parnapishtim should also

have been granted immortal life. The moral, however, is that the

exception proves the rule. With this tradition of the destruction of a

certain place, there has been combined a nature myth symbolizing the

annual overflow of the Euphrates, and the temporary disappearance of all

land that this inundation brought about, prior to the elaborate canal

system that was developed in the valley. It is the same myth that we

have come across in the creation epic and which, as we have seen, was

instrumental in moulding the advanced cosmological conceptions of the

Babylonians.

In Parnapishtim's tale, the myth is given a more popular form. There is

no attempt made to impart a scholastic interpretation to it. In keeping

with what we have seen to be the general character of the Gilgamesh

epic, the episode introduced at this point embodies popular traditions

and, on the whole, popular conceptions. The spirit of the whole epic is

the same that we find in the Thousand and One Nights or in the Arabian

romance of Antar.

The oriental love of story-telling has produced the Gilgamesh epic and,

like a true story, it grows in length, the oftener it is told. Gilgamesh

is merely a peg upon which various current traditions and myths are

hung. Hence the combination of Gilgamesh's adventures with those of

Eabani, and hence also the association of Gilgamesh with Parnapishtim. A

trace, perhaps, of scholastic influence may be seen in the purport of

Parnapishtim's narrative to prove the hopelessness of man's securing

immortality; and yet, while the theology of the schools may thus have

had some share in giving to the tale of Parnapishtim its present shape,

the problem presented by Gilgamesh's adventures is a popular rather than

a scholastic one. Even to the primitive mind, for whom life rather than

death constitutes the great mystery to be solved, the question would

suggest itself whether death is an absolutely necessary phase through

which man must pass. The sun, moon, and stars do not die, the streams

have perpetual life; and since all manifestations of life were looked at

from one point of view, why should not man also remain alive? Beyond

some touches in the narrative, we may, therefore, regard Parnapishtim's

story, together with the 'lesson' it teaches, as an interesting trace of

the early theology as it took shape in the popular mind. What adds

interest to the story that Parnapishtim tells, is its close resemblance

to the Biblical story of the Deluge. It also recalls the destruction of

Sodom, and we shall have occasion[939] to show the significance of these

points of contact. Bearing in mind the independent character of the

Parnapishtim episode, and the motives that led to its being incorporated

in the adventures of Gilgamesh, we may proceed with our analysis of this

interesting eleventh tablet. Thanks to the labors of Haupt, the numerous

fragments of it representing several copies, have been pieced together

so as to form an almost complete text.[940] In reply to Gilgamesh's

queries,

Parnapishtim spoke to Gilgamesh:

"I will tell thee, Gilgamesh, the secret story,

And the secret of the gods I will tell thee.

The city Shurippak, a city which, as thou knowest,

Lies on the Euphrates,

That city was old,[941] for the gods thereof,

Decided to bring a rainstorm upon it.

All of the great gods, Anu, their father,

Their counsellor, the warrior Bel,

The herald Ninib,

Their leader En-nugi,

The lord of unsearchable wisdom, Ea, was with them,

To proclaim their resolve to the reed-huts.

Reed-hut, reed-hut, wall, wall!

Reed-hut, hear! Wall, give ear!"

The ordinary houses of Babylonia were constructed of reeds, while the

temples and palaces were built of hard-baked clay. "Reed-hut" and "clay

structure," thus embracing the architecture of the country, are

poetically used to designate the inhabitants of Shurippak. The address

to the huts and structures has been appropriately compared by Professor

Haupt to the opening words of Isaiah's prophecies.[942]

Hear, Heavens! and give ear, Earth!

Ea's words are intended as a warning to the people of Shurippak. The

warning comes appropriately from Ea as the god of humanity, who

according to some traditions is also the creator of mankind, and who is

the teacher and protector of mankind. Opposed to Ea is Bel, the old Bel

of Nippur, who is represented as favoring the destruction of humanity.

The story in this way reflects a rivalry between the Ea and Bel cults.

Of Shurippak, against which the anger of the gods is enkindled, we

unfortunately know nothing,[943] but it is fair to assume that there was

an ancient city of that name, and which was destroyed by an overflow of

the Euphrates during the rainy season. The city need not necessarily

have been one of much importance. Its sad fate would naturally have

impressed itself upon the memory of the people, and given rise to

legends precisely as the disappearance of Sodom[944] or of the

destruction of the tribes of Ad and Thamud gave rise to fantastic

stories among Hebrews and Arabs respectively.[945]

Ea, not content with the general warning, sends a special message to

Parnapishtim, one of the inhabitants of Shurippak.

O man of Shurippak, son of Kidin-Marduk![946]

Erect a structure,[947] build a ship,

Abandon your goods, look after the souls,[948]

Throw aside your possessions, and save your life,

Load the ship with all kinds of living things.

The god then tells Parnapishtim in what manner to build the ship. Its

dimensions should be carefully measured. Its breadth and depth should be

equal, and when it is finished, Parnapishtim is to float it. The warning

from Ea comes to him in a dream, as we learn from a subsequent part of

the story. Parnapishtim does not deem it necessary to dwell upon this,

for it is only through dreams that the gods communicate with kings and

heroes.

Parnapishtim declares his readiness to obey the orders of Ea, but like

Moses upon receiving the command of Yahwe, he asks what he should say

when people question him.

What shall I answer the city, the people, and the elders?

Ea replies:

Thus answer and speak to them:

Bel has cast me out in his hatred,

So that I can no longer dwell in your city.

On Bel's territory I dare no longer show my face;

Therefore, I go to the 'deep' to dwell with Ea my lord.

Bel's domain is the earth, while Ea controls the watery elements. Bel's

hostility to mankind is limited to the inhabitants of the dry land. The

moment that Parnapishtim enters Ea's domain he is safe. The answer thus

not only furnishes the real motive for the building of the ship, but

further illustrates the purport of the narrative in its present form. It

is a glorification of Ea at the expense of Bel, and it is not difficult

to detect the thought underlying the story that the evils afflicting

mankind on earth are due to the hostility of the 'chief demon,'[949] who

becomes the controller of the earth and of the atmosphere immediately

above the earth. Ea's answer is not intended to be equivocal, for he

further orders Parnapishtim to announce to his fellow-citizens the

coming destruction.

Over you a rainstorm will come,

Men, birds, and beasts will perish.

The following line[950] is defective, but it appears to except from the

general destruction the fish as the inhabitants of the domain controlled

by Ea. The time when the catastrophe is to take place is vaguely

indicated.

When Shamash will bring on the time, then the lord of the whirlstorm

Will cause destruction to rain upon you in the evening.

The 'lord of the whirlstorm' is Ramman, and the reference to this deity

specifies the manner in which the catastrophe will be brought about. As

in the Biblical story, 'the windows of heaven are to be opened,' the

rains will come down, driven by the winds that are to be let loose. It

has been supposed that because the ship of Parnapishtim drifts to the

north that the storm came from the south.[951] No stress, however, is

laid upon the question of direction in the Babylonian narrative. The

phenomenon of a whirlstorm with rain is of ordinary occurrence; its

violence alone makes it an exceptional event, but--be it noted--not a

miraculous one. Nor are we justified in attributing the deluge to the

rush of waters from the Persian Gulf, for this sheet of water is

particularly sacred to Ea as the beginning of the "great deep." It would

be an insult to Ea's dignity to suppose that he is unable to govern his

own territory. The catastrophe comes from above, from Ramman and his

associates who act at the instigation of the belligerent Bel.

Parnapishtim begins at once to build the ship. He gathers his material,

and on the fifth day is ready to construct the hull. The ship resembles

the ordinary craft still used on the Euphrates. It is a flat-bottomed

skiff with upturned edges. On this shell the real 'house'[952] of

Parnapishtim is placed. The structure is accurately described. Its

height is one hundred and twenty cubits, and its breadth is the same, in

accordance with the express orders given by Ea. No less than six floors

are erected, one above the other.

Then I built six stories,[953]

So that the whole consisted of seven apartments.

The interior[954] I divided into nine parts.

The structure may properly be called a 'house boat,' and its elaborate

character appears from the fact that it contains no less than

sixty-three compartments. Parnapishtim carefully provides plugs to fill

out all crevices, and furthermore smears a large quantity of bitumen

without and within.

I provided a pole,[955] and all that was necessary,

Six _sar_[956] of bitumen[957] I smeared on the outside,[958]

Three _sar_ of pitch [I smeared] on the inside.

He also has a large quantity of oil placed on the boat, oxen, jars

filled with mead[959] oil, and wine for a festival, which he institutes

at the completion of the structure. The preparations are on a large

scale, as for the great New Year's Day celebrated in Babylonia. The ship

is launched, and, if Professor Haupt is correct in his interpretation,

the ship took water to the extent of two-thirds of its height.

The side of the ship dipped two-thirds into water.

Parnapishtim now proceeds to take his family and chattels on board.

All that I had, I loaded on the ship.

With all the silver that I had, I loaded it,

With all the gold that I had, I loaded it,

With living creatures of all kinds I loaded it.

I brought on board my whole family and household,

Cattle of the field, beasts of the field, workmen,--all this I took

on board.

Parnapishtim is ready to enter the ship, but he waits until the time

fixed for the storm arrives.

When the time came

For the lord of the whirlstorm to rain down destruction,

I gazed at the earth,

I was terrified at its sight,

I entered the ship, and closed the door.

To the captain of the ship, to Puzur-Shadurabu,[960] the sailor,

I entrusted the structure[961] with all its contents.

The description of the storm follows, in diction at once impressive and

forcible.

Upon the first appearance of dawn,

There arose from the horizon dark clouds,

Within which Ramman caused his thunder to resound.

Nabu and Sharru[962] marched at the front,

The destroyers passed across mountains and land,

Dibbarra[963] lets loose the....[964]

Ninib advances in furious hostility.

The Anunnaki raise torches,

Whose sheen illumines the universe,

As Ramman's whirlwind sweeps the heavens,

And all light is changed to darkness.

The destructive elements, thunder, lightning, storm, rain, are thus let

loose. The dreadful storm lasts for seven days. The terror of men and

gods is splendidly portrayed.

Brother does not look after brother,

Men care not for another. In the heavens,

Even the gods are terrified at the storm.

They take refuge in the heaven of Anu.[965]

The gods cowered like dogs at the edge of the heavens.

With this description the climax in the narrative is reached. The

reaction begins. Ishtar is the first to bewail the destruction that has

been brought about, and her example is followed by others of the gods.

Ishtar groans like a woman in throes,

The lofty goddess cries with loud voice,

The world of old has become a mass of clay.[966]

Ishtar appears here in the role of the mother of mankind. She feels that

she has none but herself to blame for the catastrophe, for, as one of

the great gods, she must have been present at the council when the storm

was decided on, and must have countenanced it. She therefore reproaches

herself:

That I should have assented[967] to this evil among the gods!

That when I assented to this evil,

I was for the destruction of my own creatures![968]

What I created, where is it?

Like so many fish, it[969] fills the sea.

From the words of Ishtar it would appear that the storm had assumed

larger dimensions than the gods, or at least than some of them, had

anticipated. At the beginning of the episode, Shurippak alone is

mentioned, and Ishtar apparently wishes to say that when she agreed to

the bringing on of the storm, she was not aware that she was decreeing

the destruction of all mankind. It is evident that two distinct

traditions have been welded together in the present form of the

Babylonian document, one recalling the destruction of a single city, the

other embodying in mythological form the destructive rains of Babylonia

that were wont to annually flood the entire country before the canal

system was perfected.

Some particularly destructive season may have formed an additional

factor in the combination of the traditions. At all events, the storm

appears to have got beyond the control of the gods, and none but Bel

approves of the widespread havoc that has been wrought. It is no unusual

phenomenon in ancient religions to find the gods powerless to control

occurrences that they themselves produced. The Anunnaki--even more

directly implicated than Ishtar in bringing on the catastrophe--join the

goddess in her lament at the complete destruction wrought.

The gods, together with the Anunnaki, wept with her.

The gods, in their depression, sat down to weep,

Pressed their lips together, were overwhelmed with grief (?).

The storm could no longer be quieted.

For six days and nights

Wind, rain-storm, hurricane swept along;

When the seventh day arrived, the storm began to moderate,

Which had waged a contest like a great host.

The sea quieted down, wind and rain-storm ceased.

Parnapishtim then gazes at the destruction.

Bitterly weeping I looked at the sea,

For all mankind had been turned to clay.[970]

In place of dams, everything had become a marsh.

I opened a hole so as to let the light fall upon my face,

And dumbfounded, I sat down and wept.

Tears flowed down my face.

I looked in all directions,--naught but sea.

But soon the waters began to diminish.

After twelve double hours[971] an island appeared,

The ship approached the mountain Nisir.

The name given to the first promontory to appear is significant. _Nisir_

signifies 'protection' or 'salvation.' The houseboat clings to this

spot.

At this mountain, the mountain Nisir, the boat stuck fast.

For six days the boat remains in the same position. At the beginning of

the seventh day, Parnapishtim endeavors to ascertain whether the waters

have abated sufficiently to permit him to leave the boat.

When the seventh day approached

I sent forth a dove.

The dove flew about

But, finding no resting place, returned;

Then I sent forth a swallow.

The swallow flew about

But, finding no resting place, returned;

Then I sent forth a raven.

The raven flew off, and, seeing that the waters had decreased,

Cautiously[972] (?) waded in the mud, but did not return.

Parnapishtim is satisfied, leaves the ship, and brings a sacrifice to

the gods on the top of the mountain. In seven large bowls he places

calamus, cedarwood, and incense.

The gods inhaled the odor,

The gods inhaled the sweet odor,

The gods gathered like flies around the sacrificer.

A solemn scene ensues. Ishtar, the 'mistress of the gods,' swears by the

necklace given to her by her father, Anu, that she will never forget

these days.

Let the gods come to the sacrifice,[973]

But Bel must not come to the sacrifice;

Since, without consultation,[974] he caused the rain-storm,

And handed over my creation[975] to destruction.

Bel thus appears to be the one who alone knew of the extent which the

destruction was destined to reach. The annihilation of all mankind was

his work, undertaken without consulting his associates. The latter were

aware only of the intended destruction of a single place,--Shurippak.

At this moment Bel approaches. He does not deny his deed, but is enraged

that the planned destruction should not have been complete, since

Parnapishtim and his household have escaped.

As Bel approached

And saw the ship, he was enraged,

Filled with anger against the gods--the Igigi.

'What person has escaped (?)?

No one was to survive the destruction.'

Ninib reveals the fact of Ea's interference:

Ninib opened his mouth and spoke, spoke to the belligerent Bel:

"Who but Ea could have done this?

For is it not Ea who knows all arts?"

Ea appeals to Bel:

Ea opened his mouth and spoke, spoke to the belligerent Bel:

"Thou art the belligerent leader of the gods,

But why didst thou, without consultation, bring on the rainstorm?

Punish the sinner for his sins,

Punish the evil-doer for his evil deeds,

But be merciful so as not to root out completely,

Be considerate not to destroy everything."

The terrors inspired by the deluge are well portrayed in the

continuation of Ea's speech. He tells Bel that he should have brought on

anything but a deluge.

Instead of bringing on a deluge,

Let lions come and diminish mankind.[976]

Instead of bringing on a deluge,

Let tigers come and diminish mankind.

Instead of bringing on a deluge,

Let famine come and smite the land.

Instead of bringing on a deluge,

Let pestilence[977] come and waste the land.

Ea then confesses that through his instigation Parnapishtim was saved.

While I did not reveal the decision of the great gods,

I sent Adra-Khasis[978] a dream which told him of the decision of the

gods.

It is a misconception to regard this answer of the god as equivocal. Ea

means to say that he did not interfere with the divine decree. He simply

told Parnapishtim to build a ship, leaving to the latter to divine the

reason. Ea, it is true, tells Parnapishtim of Bel's hatred, but he does

not reveal the secret of the gods. After Ea's effective speech Bel is

reconciled, and the scene closes dramatically, as follows:

Bel came to his senses,

Stepped on board of the ship,

Took me by the hand and lifted me up,

Brought up my wife, and caused her to kneel at my side,

Turned towards us, stepped between us, and blessed us.

'Hitherto Parnapishtim was human,[979]

But now Parnapishtim and his wife shall be gods like us.[980]

Parnapishtim shall dwell in the distance, at the confluence of the

streams.'

Then they took me and placed me in the distance, at the confluence of

the streams.

The streams are, according to Haupt,[981] the four rivers--Euphrates,

Tigris, Karun, and Kercha, which at one time emptied their waters

independently into the Persian Gulf. Parnapishtim's dwelling-place is

identical with the traditional Paradise of the Babylonians and Hebrews.

It will be proper before leaving the subject, to dwell briefly upon the

points of contact between this Babylonian tale and the Biblical

narrative of the Deluge. The source of the tradition must be sought in

the Euphrates Valley. The ark of Noah can only be understood in the

light of methods of navigation prevailing in Babylonia; and it is in

Babylonia, and not Palestine, that the phenomenon was annually seen of

large portions of land disappearing from view.

The Babylonian tale is to be differentiated, as already suggested, into

two parts,--the destruction of Shurippak and the annual phenomenon of

the overflow of the Euphrates. The combination of these two elements

results in the impression conveyed by Parnapishtim's narrative that the

rain-storm took on larger dimensions than was originally anticipated by

the gods. The Biblical narrative is based upon this combination, but

discarding those portions of the tale which are of purely local interest

makes the story of a deluge, a medium for illustrating the favor shown

by Yahwe towards the righteous man, as represented by Noah. The Biblical

narrative ends, as does the Babylonian counterpart, with the assurance

that a deluge will not sweep over the earth again; but viewed from a

monotheistic aspect, this promise is interpreted as signifying the

establishment of eternal laws,--a thought that is wholly foreign to the

purpose of the Babylonian narrative.

The slight variations between the Biblical and Babylonian narratives,

and upon which it is needless to dwell, justify the conclusion that the

Hebrew story is not directly borrowed from the Babylonian version.[982]

The divergences are just of the character that will arise through the

independent development and the independent interpretation of a common

tradition. The destruction of Shurippak has a Biblical parallel in the

destruction of Sodom[983] and of the surrounding district. Sodom, like

Shurippak, is a city full of wickedness. Lot and his household are saved

through direct intervention, just as Parnapishtim and his family escape

through the intervention of Ea. Moreover, there are traces in the Sodom

narrative of a tradition which once gave a larger character to it,

involving the destruction of all mankind,[984] much as the destruction

of Shurippak is enlarged by Babylonian traditions into a general

annihilation of mankind. It is to be noted, too, that no emphasis is

laid upon Lot's piety, and in this respect, as in others, Parnapishtim

bears more resemblance to Lot than to Noah.

The hostility between Bel and Ea, which we have seen plays a part in the

Babylonian narrative, belongs to the larger mythological element in the

episode, not to the specific Shurippak incident. Bel, as the god whose

dominion includes the atmosphere above the earth, controls the 'upper

waters.' At his instigation these waters descend and bring destruction

with them. But Ea's dominion--the 'deep' and the streams--are beneficent

powers. The descent of the upper waters is in the nature of an attack

upon Ea's kingdom. It is through Ea that the mischief produced by Bel is

again made good. Such a conception falls within the domain of popular

mythology. An ancient rivalry between Nippur, the seat of Bel and Eridu

(or some other seat of Ea worship), may also have entered as a factor,

if not in giving rise to the story, at least in maintaining it. If this

be so, the story would belong to a period earlier than Hammurabi,[985]

since with the ascendancy of Babylon and of Marduk, the general tendency

of religious thought is towards imbuing the gods with a kindly spirit

towards one another, joining issues, as in the creation epic, for the

glorification of Marduk. The absence of Marduk from the deluge story is

another indication of the antiquity of the tradition.

Coming back now to the epic, Parnapishtim, whose sympathy has been

aroused by the sight of Gilgamesh, makes an attempt to heal the hero of

his illness.

The life that thou seekest, thou wilt obtain. Now sleep!

Gilgamesh falls into a heavy stupor, and continues in this state for six

days and seven nights. An interesting dialogue ensues between

Parnapishtim and his wife.

Parnapishtim says to his wife:

"Look at the man whose desire is life.

Sleep has fallen upon him like a storm."

Says the wife to Parnapishtim:

"Transform him, let the man eat of the charm-root,[986]

Let him return, restored in health, on the road that he came.

Through the gage let him pass out, back to his country."

Parnapishtim says to his wife:

"The torture of the man pains thee.

Cook the food[987] for him and place it at his head."

It is interesting to note that the woman appears as the exorciser of the

disease. The wife of Parnapishtim--whose name is not mentioned as little

as is the wife of Noah or Lot--proceeds to prepare the magic food. A

plant of some kind is taken and elaborately treated.

While he[988] slept on board of his ship,

She cooked the food and placed it at his head.

While he[988] slept on board of his vessel,

Firstly, his food ... ;

Secondly, it was peeled;

Thirdly, moistened;

Fourthly, his bowl (?) was cleansed;

Fifthly, _Shiba_[989] was added;

Sixthly, it was cooked;

Seventhly, of a sudden the man was transformed and ate the magic

food.[990]

Gilgamesh awakes and asks what has been done to him. Parnapishtim tells

him. But Gilgamesh is not completely healed. His body is still covered

with sores. The magic potion must be followed by immersion into the

fountain of life. Parnapishtim instructs Ardi-Ea to convey Gilgamesh to

this fountain. He speaks to the ferryman.

The man whom thou hast brought is covered with sores.

The eruption on his skin has destroyed the beauty of his body.

Take him, O Ardi-Ea, to the place of purification,

To wash his sores in the water, that he may become white as snow.

Let the ocean carry off the eruption on his skin,

That his body may become pure.[991]

Let his turban be renewed and the garment that covers his nakedness.

Ardi-Ea carries out these instructions and Gilgamesh at last is healed.

The hero is now ready to return to his land. But though returning in

restored health, he is not proof against death. Parnapishtim, at the

suggestion of his wife, reveals the 'secret of life' to Gilgamesh just

before the latter's departure. The ship is brought nearer to the shore,

and Parnapishtim tells Gilgamesh of a plant that wounds as a thistle,

but which possesses wonderful power. Gilgamesh departs on the ship, and

with the help of Ardi-Ea finds this plant, which is called 'the

restoration of old age to youth.' It is a long journey to the place. The

plant grows at the side or at the bottom of a fountain. Gilgamesh

secures it, but scarcely have his hands grasped the plant when it slips

out of his hand and is snatched away by a demon that takes on the form

of a serpent. All is lost! Gilgamesh sits down and weeps bitter tears.

He pours out his woe to Ardi-Ea, but there is nothing left except to

return to Uruk. He reaches the city in safely. His mission--the search

for immortality--has failed. Though healed from his disease, the fate of

mankind--old age and death--is in store for him. With the return to Uruk

the eleventh tablet ends. It but remains, before passing on, to note

that the narrative of the deluge in this tablet is connected with the

character of the eleventh month, which is called the 'month of rain.' We

may conclude from this that the mythological element in the story--the

annual overflow--predominates the local incident of the destruction of

Shurippak. Gilgamesh, we must bear in mind, has nothing to do with

either the local tale or the myth, except to give to both an

interpretation that was originally foreign to the composite narrative.

In the twelfth tablet--which is in large part obscure--we find Gilgamesh

wandering from one temple to the other, from the temple of Bel to that

of Ea, lamenting for Eabani, and asking, again and again, what has

become of his companion. What has been his fate since he was taken away

from the land of the living? The hero, now convinced, as it seems, that

death will come to him, and reconciled in a measure to his fate, seeks

to learn another secret,--the secret of existence after death. He

appeals to the gods of the nether world to grant him at least a sight of

Eabani. Nergal, the chief of this pantheon, consents.

... he opened the earth,

And the spirit[992] of Eabani

He caused to rise up like a wind.

Gilgamesh puts his question to Eabani:

Tell me, my companion, tell me, my companion,

The nature of the land which thou hast experienced, oh! tell me.

Eabani replies:

I cannot tell thee, my friend, I cannot tell thee!

He seems to feel that Gilgamesh could not endure the description. The

life after death, as will be shown in a subsequent chapter, is not

pictured by the Babylonians as joyous. Eabani reveals glimpses of the

sad conditions that prevail there. It is the domain of the terrible

Allatu, and Etana[993] is named among those who dwell in this region.

Eabani bewails his fate.[994] He curses Ukhat, whom, together with Sadu,

he holds responsible for having brought death upon him. In Genesis, it

will be recalled, death likewise is viewed as the consequence of Adam's

yielding to the allurements of Eve. Special significance, too, attaches

to the further parallel to be drawn between Adam's punishment and

Eabani's fate.

Dust thou art, and unto dust shall thou return

applies to Eabani as well as to Adam. He was formed of clay, as we have

seen,[995] and when he dies he is 'turned to clay.'[996] Still the

fortunes awaiting those who die are not alike. Those who die in battle

seem to enjoy special privileges, provided, however, they are properly

buried and there is some one to make them comfortable in their last hour

and to look after them when dead. Such persons are happy in comparison

with the fate in store for those who are neglected by the living. The

one who is properly cared for, who

On a soft couch rests,

Drinking pure water,

Who dies in battle, as you and I have seen,[997]

His father and mother supporting his head,

His wife[998] ... at his side,--

the spirit of such a one is at rest. The circumstances attending death

presage in a measure the individual's life after death.

But he whose corpse remains in the field,

As you and I have seen,

His spirit[999] has no rest in the earth.

The one whose spirit is not cared for by any one,

As you and I have seen,

He is consumed by gnawing hunger, by a longing for food.

What is left on the street he is obliged to eat.[1000]

To be left unburied was the greatest misfortune that could happen to a

dead person.

With this sentiment the epic closes. Gilgamesh must rest content with

the unsatisfactory consolation that Eabani offers him. Man must die, and

Gilgamesh cannot escape the universal fate. Let him hope for and, if

possible, provide for proper burial when death does overtake him. He

will then, at least, not suffer the pangs of hunger in the world of

spirits to which he must go.

The twelfth tablet exhibits somewhat more traces of the theology of the

schools than the others. Eabani's speech, while conveying sentiments

that thoroughly represent the popular beliefs of Babylonia, is couched

in terms that give to the address the character of a formal declaration

of doctrines. The conjuring up of the spirit of Eabani is also a feature

that appears to be due to theological influences, and the whole episode

of Gilgamesh's wandering from place to place seeking for information

appears to be a 'doublet' suggested by the hero's wanderings, as

narrated in the ninth and tenth tablets.

The problem propounded in the earlier tablets--the search for

immortality--is, as has been shown, a perfectly natural one and of

popular origin, but the problem with which Gilgamesh wrestles in the

twelfth tablet,--the secret of the life after death,--while suggested by

the other, belongs rather to the domain of theological and mystic

speculation. This aspect of the twelfth tablet is borne out also by the

fact that the problem is not solved. The epic ends as unsatisfactorily

as the Book of Job or Ecclesiastes. There is a tone of despair in the

final speech of Eabani, which savors of the schools of advanced thought

in Babylonia. For the problem of immortality, a definite solution at

least is offered. Man can reach old age; he may be snatched for a time

from the grasp of death, as Gilgamesh was through the efforts of

Parnapishtim, but he only deludes himself by indulging in hopes of

immortal life. 'Man must die' is the refrain that rings in our ears. The

plant of 'eternal youth' slips out of one's hand at the very moment that

one believes to have secured it.

The Gilgamesh epic, as we have it, thus turns out to be a composite

production. Gilgamesh, a popular hero of antiquity, becomes a medium for

the perpetuation of various popular traditions and myths. The adventures

of his career are combined with the early history of man. Of actual

deeds performed by Gilgamesh, and which belong to Gilgamesh's career as

a hero, warrior, and ruler, we have only four,--the conquest of Erech,

his victory over Khumbaba, the killing of the divine bull, and the

strangling of the lion.[1001] The story of Eabani, Ukhat, and Sadu is

independent of Gilgamesh's career, and so also is the story of his

wanderings to Mashu and his encounter with Parnapishtim. Gilgamesh is

brought into association with Eabani by what may be called, a natural

process of assimilation. The life of the hero is placed back at the

beginning of things, and in this way Gilgamesh is brought into direct

contact with legends of man's early fortunes, with ancient historical

reminiscences, as well as with nature-myths that symbolize the change of

seasons and the annual inundations.

Popular philosophy also enters into the life of the hero. Regarded as a

god and yet of human origin, Gilgamesh becomes an appropriate

illustration for determining the line that marks off man's career from

the indefinite extension of activity that is a trait of the gods.

Gilgamesh revolts against the universal law of decay and is punished. He

is relieved from suffering, but cannot escape the doom of death. The

sixth tablet marks an important division in the epic. The Ishtar and

Sabitum episodes and the narrative of Parnapishtim--itself a compound of

two independent tales, one semi-historical, the other a

nature-myth--represent accretions that may refer to a time when

Gilgamesh had become little more than a name,--a type of mankind in

general. Finally, scholastic speculation takes hold of Gilgamesh, and

makes him the medium for illustrating another and more advanced problem

that is of intense interest to mankind,--the secret of death. Death is

inevitable, but what does death mean? The problem is not solved. The

close of the eleventh tablet suggests that Gilgamesh will die. The

twelfth tablet adds nothing to the situation--except a moral. Proper

burial is essential to the comparative well-being of the dead.

The fact that Gilgamesh is viewed as a type in the latter half of this

remarkable specimen of Babylonian literature justifies us in speaking of

it, under proper qualification, as a 'national epic.' But it must be

remembered that Gilgamesh himself belongs to a section of Babylonia

only, and not to the whole of it; and it is rather curious that one, of

whom it can be said with certainty that he is not even a native of

Babylonia, should become the personage to whom popular fancy was pleased

to attach traditions and myths that are distinctively Babylonian in

character and origin.

The story of Gilgamesh was carried beyond the confines of

Babylonia.[1002] Gilgamesh, to be sure, is not identical with the

Biblical Nimrod,[1003] but the Gilgamesh story has evidently influenced

the description given in the tenth chapter of Genesis of Nimrod, who is

viewed as the type of Babylonian power and of the extension of

Babylonian culture to the north.

The Gilgamesh epic is not a solar myth, as was once supposed,[1004] nor

is the Biblical story of Samson a pure myth, but Gilgamesh becomes a

solar deity, and it is hardly accidental that Samson, or to give the

Hebrew form of the name, Shimshon, is a variant form of

_Shamash_[1005]--the name of the sun in Babylonian and Hebrew. The

Biblical Samson appears to be modelled upon the character of Gilgamesh.

Both are heroes, both conquerors, both strangle a lion, and both are

wooed by a woman, the one by Delila, the other by Ishtar, and both

through a woman are shorn of their strength. The historical traits are

of course different. As for the relationships of the Gilgamesh epic to

the Hercules story, the authority of Wilamowitz-Moellendorf[1006] is

against an oriental origin of the Greek tale, and yet such parallels as

Hercules' fight with a lion, his conquest of death, his journey and

search for immortality (which in contrast to Gilgamesh he secures),

certainly point to an influence exercised by the oriental tale upon the

Greek story. It is not surprising that the elements contributed through

this influence have been so modified in the process of adaptation to the

purely Greek elements of the Hercules story, and, above all, to the

Greek spirit, as to obscure their eastern origin.[1007] Most curious as

illustrating the continued popularity of the Gilgamesh story in the

Orient is the incorporation of portions of the epic in the career of

Alexander the Great.[1008] In Greek, Syriac, and Rabbinical writings,

Alexander is depicted as wandering through a region[1009] of darkness

and terror in search of the 'water of life.' He encounters strange

beings, reaches the sea, but, like Gilgamesh, fails to secure

immortality. Such were the profound changes wrought by Alexander's

conquests that popular fancy, guided by a correct instinct of

appreciation of his career, converted the historical Alexander into a

legendary hero of vast dimensions.[1010] The process that produced the

Gilgamesh epic is repeated, only on a larger scale, in the case of

Alexander. Not one country, but the entire ancient culture

world,--Babylonia, Persia, Egypt, Arabia, Judea, and Syria,--combine to

form the legendary Alexander. Each country contributes its share of

popular legends, myths, and traditions. Babylonia offers as her tribute

the exploits of Gilgamesh, which it transfers in part to Alexander. The

national hero becomes the type of the 'great man,' and as with new

conditions, a new favorite, representative of the new era, arises to

take the place of an older one, the old is made to survive in the new.

Gilgamesh lives again in Alexander, just as traits of the legendary

Alexander pass down to subsequent heroes.

FOOTNOTES:

[844] See above, pp. 245-247.

[845] Or Gishdubar or Gishtubar.

[846] _Babylonian and Oriental Record_, iv. 264. For previous readings

of the name, see Jeremias' article on 'Izdubar' in Roscher's

_Ausfuehrliches Lexicon der Griechischen und Roemischen Mythologie_, ii.

col. 773, 774.

[847] _Historia Animalum_, xii. 21.

[848] See p. 524.

[849] In the Oriental legends of Alexander the Great, this confusion is

further illustrated. To Alexander are attached stories belonging to both

Izdubar and Etana. See Meissner's _Alexander and Gilgamos_, pp. 13-17

(Leipzig, 1894).

[850] See, _e.g._, Perrot and Chiplez, _History of Art in Babylonia and

Assyria_, i. 84.

[851] Article 'Izdubar,' col. 776; see Delitzsch, _Handwoerterbuch_, p.

678. Hommel (_e.g._, _Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung_, p. 39) regards

Gilgamesh as a contraction from Gibil (the fire-god) and Gam (or Gab),

together with _ish_, an 'Elamitic' ending. If the name is Elamitic, one

should hardly expect a Babylonian deity entering as one of the elements.

[852] See above, p. 167.

[853] See above, p. 284.

[854] Haupt's _Das Babylonische Nimrodepos_, p. 93.

[855] Lit., 'he who is applied to for giving a decision.'

[856] _Ta-par-ra-as_.

[857] _Das Babylonische Nimrodepos_ (Leipzig, 1884-91). This edition

includes all but the twelfth tablet, which was published by Haupt in the

_Beitraege zur Assyriologie_, i. 48-79. For other publications of Haupt

on the Gilgamesh epic, see the Bibliography, Sec. 6. The identification

with the Biblical Nimrod is now definitely abandoned by scholars, though

the picture drawn of Nimrod is influenced by the traditions regarding

Gilgamesh. See p. 515.

[858] The best general work on the epic (based on Haupt's edition) is A.

Jeremias' _Izdubar-Nimrod_ (Leipzig, 1891), a reprint with additions, of

his article on 'Izdubar' in Roscher's _Ausfuehrliches Lexicon der

Griechischen und Roemischen Mythologie_ ii.

[859] _Vorgeschichte der Indo-Europaer_, p. 112.

[860] The words for 'city' in the Semitic languages embody this idea.

[861] _Old Babylonian Inscription_, i. 2, p. 48.

[862] IIR. 50, 55-57; VR. 41, 17, 18. An interesting reference to the

wall of Frech occurs Hilprecht, _ib._ i. 1, no. 26.

[863] _Kosmologie_, p. 172.

[864] Jeremias' _Izdubar-Nimrod_, p. 15, conjectures that the death of

the king has evoked distress, but that is highly improbable. That the

fragment under consideration belongs to the beginning of the epic is

tolerably certain, though not absolutely so.

[865] Sixth tablet, l. 192. He brings offerings to Lugal-Marada, _i.e._,

the king of Marada--a solar deity. See p. 486.

[866] Heuzey, _Sceaux inedits des Rois d'Agade_ (_Revue d'Assyriologie_,

iv. 3, p. 9).

[867] See above, p. 448.

[868] _Anu_ here used in the generic sense of 'lofty,' 'divine.' The

phrase is equivalent to the Biblical 'image of God.'

[869] A phrase in some way again indicative of Eabani's likeness to a

deity.

[870] That Gilgamesh undertakes this, and not the gods acting in the

interest of Uruk (as Jeremias and others assume), follows from a passage

in Haupt's edition, pp. 10, 40.

[871] Eabani.

[872] Identical with our own word "harem."

[873] Perhaps "ensnarer."

[874] So in the "Dibbarra" legend. See p. 531 and Delitzsch,

_Handwoerterbuch_, p. 41.

[875] Sixth tablet, ll. 184, 185.

[876] Book 1. Sec.Sec. 181, 182, 199.

[877] See Jeremias' _Izdubar-Nimrod_, pp. 59, 60; Nikel, _Herodot und

die Keilschriftforschung_, pp. 84-86.

[878] The protest of the Pentateuch (Deut. xxiii. 18) against the

_K'desha_, as also against the 'male devotee' (_Kadesh_), shows the

continued popularity of the rites.

[879] It is to be noted that in the Yahwistic narrative, Adam is in

close communication with the animals about him (Gen. ii. 20). It is

tempting also to connect the Hebrew form of Eve, _Khauwa_ (or _Khauwat_)

in some way with Ukhat, not etymologically of course, but as suggestive

of a dependence of one upon the other,--the Hebrew upon the Babylonian

term. Professor Stade (_Zeits. f. Alttest. Wiss._, 1897, p. 210)

commenting upon Gen. ii. 20, points out that Yahwe's motive for asking

Adam to name the animals was the hope that he would find a 'helpmate'

among them. In the light of the Babylonian story of Eabani living with

animals, Stade's suggestion receives a striking illustration.

[880] See Trumbull, _The Threshold Covenant_, p. 239.

[881] _Kharimtu_. In Arabic the word is likewise used for 'woman' in

general.

[882] The temple at Uruk is meant.

[883] Jeremias translates 'seeks a friend,' and refers the words to

Gilgamesh, but there is nothing in the narrative to justify us in

assuming that Eabani was thinking of the hero.

[884] It is used as a synonym of _tappu_ 'associate,' Delitzsch,

_Handwoerterbuch_, p. 10. Ideographically, it is composed of two

elements, 'strength' and 'acquire.' 'Companion in arms' is the

fellowship originally meant.

[885] The Hebrew verb (Gen. ii. 22) expresses sexual union and precisely

the same verb is used in the cuneiform narrative when Eabani comes to

Ukhat (Haupt's edition, p. 11, l. 21).

[886] We can still distinguish (Haupt, 12, 47) 'I will fetch him.'

Jeremias' rendering, "I will fight with him," is erroneous.

[887] Haupt, 13, 7-8.

[888] Cf. Gen. iii. 5 and 21.

[889] The text of the following lines restored by combining Haupt, p.

13, with a supplementary fragment published by Jeremias'

_Izdubar-Nimrod_, pl. 3.

[890] _I.e._, he will be told about thy dream through the wisdom given

to him.

[891] See, _e.g._, Jeremias' _Izdubar-Nimrod_, p. 21.

[892] So, _e.g._, Hommel (_Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung_, p. 35). He

is certainly not a native of Babylonia.

[893] Gilgamesh.

[894] Haupt, p. 26.

[895] A city Ganganna is mentioned in the first tablet (Haupt, pp. 51,

6).

[896] So Haupt, _Beitraege zur Assyriologie_, i. 112.

[897] _I.e._, again and again.

[898] This is the general sense of the three terms used.

[899] _I.e._, an army's march of fourteen hours. See pp. 490, 503, 521.

[900] The same word appears in incantation texts as a term for a class

of demons.

[901] See, _e.g._, Jeremias' _Izdubar-Nimrod_, p. 26.

[902] _I.e._, to the bull.

[903] Chapter XXV.

[904] Ez. viii. 14.

[905] See above, p. 475.

[906] See p. 267.

[907] See above, p. 234.

[908] Trumbull, _The Threshold Covenant_, chapter vii.

[909] See p. 536.

[910] Or as a third dream. It will be recalled that in a previous

portion of the epic (p. 481), Gilgamesh has three dreams in succession.

[911] Haupt, pp. 45, 53.

[912] Attitude of despair.

[913] _I.e._, 'offspring of life.' I adopt Delitzsch's reading of the

name. Zimmern and Jensen prefer _Sitnapishtim_, but see Haupt's remarks

on the objections to this reading in Schrader, _Keilinschriften und das

Alte Testament_ (3d edition) _a. l._ At the recent Eleventh

International Congress of Orientalists, Scheil presented a tablet

dealing with the deluge narrative. If his reading is correct, the

evidence would be final for the form Pirnapishtim, formerly proposed by

Zimmern (_Babylonische Busspsalmen_, p. 26). See p. 507, note 1.

[914] "Client of Marduk." The name Marduk appears here under the

ideographic designation _Tutu_. The identification with Marduk may be

due to later traditions.

[915] Jeremias' suggestion (_Indubar-Nimrod_, p. 18) that the fight with

the lion belongs to the first tablet, where mention is made of a wild

animal of some kind, is not acceptable.

[916] _I.e._, inner side.

[917] The name of the cave underneath the earth where the dead dwell.

[918] See above, p. 443.

[919] See, _e.g._, Jeremias' _Izdubar-Nimrod_, p. 28.

[920] See the passages in Delitzsch, _Wo Lag das Paradies_, pp. 242,

243.

[921] See above, p. 39, and Hommel's full discussion, _Altisraelitische

Ueberlieferung_, chapter iii.

[922] Hommel (_Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung_, pp. 35, 37) suggests a

migration of Cassites from Elam to Eastern Africa.

[923] Haupt, pp. 12, 67.

[924] Attitude of despair.

[925] _I.e._ 'servant of Ea.' The reading Ardi-Ea is preferable to

Arad-Ea.

[926] Lit., 'sailor.'

[927] See above, p. 443.

[928] Haupt, pp. 64, 36; 65, 1.

[929] _Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung_, p. 35.

[930] _Tum_ is the feminine ending.

[931] A large measure.

[932] Of the week? Hommel and others interpret that Gilgamesh

accomplishes the 'forty-five days' journey' in three days.

[933] This I take to be the meaning of the numbers introduced at this

point.

[934] The text is badly mutilated.

[935] There is no limit to the rule of death. Death alone is 'immortal.'

[936] As Haupt correctly interprets.

[937] This appears to be the sense of this rather obscure line.

[938] Read [sir-la]-am?

[939] See below, p. 507.

[940] The restored text in Haupt's edition of the _Nimrodepos_, pp.

134-149.

[941] Zimmern ingeniously suggests _la bir_, "not pure," instead of the

rendering 'old.'

[942] Isaiah i. 1.

[943] See Jensen's remarks, _Kosmologie_, p. 387. There is no reference

to Shurippak in IIR. 46, 1, as Haupt has shown (see his note in the 3rd

edition of Schrader's _Keilinscriften und das Alte Testament_).

[944] Gen. xix.

[945] Hughes, _Dictionary of Islam_, _sub_ "Ad" and "Salih".

[946] See above, p. 488, note 2.

[947] Lit., 'construct a house'; house is used for any kind of structure

in general.

[948] _I.e._, let your property go and save your family.

[949] See above, p. 53.

[950] L. 45.

[951] Jensen, _Kosmologie_, p. 368; Jeremias, _Izdubar-Nimrod_, p. 37.

[952] See above, p. 496, note 6.

[953] Or decks (so Haupt).

[954] Of each story or deck.

[955] Poles are used to this day to propel the crafts on the Euphrates.

[956] The largest measure.

[957] The same word (_kupru_) is used as in Gen. vi. 14.

[958] Some part of the outside of the structure is designated.

[959] Haupt translates "Sesammeth."

[960] "Puzur" signifies 'hidden,' 'protected.' "Shadu rabu," _i.e._,

'great mountain,' is a title of Bel and of other gods (see above, pp. 56

and 278). Here, probably, Shamash is meant.

[961] Lit. 'great house' or 'palace.'

[962] _I.e._, 'king,' frequently found as a title of Marduk in

astronomical texts (Jensen, _Kosmologie_, p. 145).

[963] The god of war and pestilence.

[964] "Tar-gul-le," some mischievous forces.

[965] The highest part of heaven.

[966] _I.e._, has been destroyed.

[967] Lit., 'spoken' or 'ordered.'

[968] Lit., 'my mankind.'

[969] _I.e._, Mankind.

[970] From which they were made. See pp. 448 and 511.

[971] See p. 482, note 4.

[972] Haupt and Delitzsch render _ikkal_, 'ate,' as though from _akalu_,

but this is hardly in place. I take the stem of the word to be _nakalu_.

[973] To have a share in it.

[974] Jensen and Haupt translate "inconsiderately," but this rendering

misses the point.

[975] Lit., 'my humanity.'

[976] Not destroy it altogether.

[977] Lit. 'the god Dibbarra.'

[978] _I.e._, the 'very clever' or 'very pious,' an epithet given to

Parnapishtim. The inverted form, _Khasis-adra_, was distorted into

_Xisusthros_, which appears in the writers dependent upon Berosus as the

name of the hero of the Babylonian deluge. See, _e.g._, Cory's _Ancient

Fragments_, pp. 52, 54, 60, etc. The epithet appears also in the Legend

of Etana (pp. 523, 524), where it is applied to a 'wise' young eagle.

[979] _I.e._, mortal.

[980] _I.e._, immortal. _Cf._ Gen. iii. 22.

[981] _Wo Lag das Paradies_ (_Ueber Land und Meer_, 1894-95, no. 15).

[982] The Hebrew account, it must be remembered, consists of two

narratives dovetailed into one another. According to the one

version--the Yahwistic--the rainstorm continued for forty days and forty

nights; according to the other--the priestly narrative--one hundred and

fifty days pass before the waters began to diminish and a year elapses

before Noah leaves the ark. The Yahwistic narrative lays stress upon the

ritualistic distinction of clean and unclean animals, but on the whole,

the Yahwistic version approaches closer to the Babylonian tale. Evidence

has now been furnished that among the Babylonians, too, more than one

version of the tradition existed. At the Eleventh International Congress

of Orientalists (September, 1897), Scheil presented a tablet, dating

from the days of Hammurabi, in which the story of a deluge is narrated

in a manner quite different from the Gilgamesh epic. The tablet also

furnishes the phonetic reading _pi-ir_, and Scheil is of the opinion

that these two syllables form the first element in the name of the hero.

Unfortunately, the tablet is badly mutilated at this point, so that the

question of the reading is not absolutely certain. See p. 488, note 2.

[The reading Ut-napishtim is now generally adopted.]

[983] Gen. xix.

[984] Note the phrase in Gen. xix. 31, "there is no one on earth," and

see Pietschman, _Geschichte der Phonizier_, p. 115.

[985] That the story was current as early as Hammurabi is now

established by Scheil's fragment (see note 2 on preceding page).

[986] The word used is _tu_ which means a charm or incantation in

general.

[987] Made of the charm root.

[988] Gilgamesh.

[989] _I.e._, 'old age,' the name given to some plant of magic power.

[990] _Tu._

[991] Lit., 'good.'

[992] _Utukku_--the name, it will be recalled, given to a class of

demons. See p. 260.

[993] See p. 518.

[994] Haupt, _Beitraege zur Assyriologie_, i. 318, 319, has made it

plausible that pp. 16-19 of his edition belong to the twelfth tablet of

the epic, though perhaps to a different edition of the epic, as Jeremias

suggests (_Izdubar-Nimrod_, p. 43).

[995] See above, p. 474.

[996] Haupt's edition, pp. 67, 12.

[997] Lit., 'thou hast seen it, I have seen it.'

[998] Text defective. Jeremias conjectures "kneeling."

[999] _Ekimmu_, another name for a class of demons. See p. 260.

[1000] The correct translation of these lines we owe to Haupt (_Beitraege

zur Assyriologie_, i. 69, 70).

[1001] The reference to the killing of a panther in the tenth tablet

(Haupt, p. 71, 6) is too obscure to be taken into consideration.

Gilgamesh's fight with a 'buffalo' (so Ward, "Babylonian Gods in

Babylonian Art," _Proc. Amer. Or. Soc._, May, 1890, p. xv) is pictured

on seal cylinders. No doubt, various deeds of Gilgamesh were recounted

in the missing portions of the epic, and it is also quite likely that

besides the stories in the epic, others were current of Gilgamesh to

which a literary form was never given.

[1002] The Parnapishtim episode passed on to the Arabs, where the hero

of the deluge appears under the name of Khadir--a corruption of

Adra-Khasis. See Lidzbarski, "Wer ist Chadir?" _Zeits. f. Assyr._ vii.

109-112, who also suggests that Ahasverus, 'the Wandering Jew,' is a

corruption of Adrakhasis.

[1003] It will be recalled that Nimrod is termed a 'mighty hunter'

(_saeid_). This suggests a comparison with Sadu, 'the hunter,' in the

Gilgamesh epic. See above, p. 475.

[1004] Originally suggested by H. C. Rawlinson.

[1005] The ending _on_ is an emphatic affix--frequent in proper names.

[1006] _Euripides' Herakles_, Einleitung.

[1007] On this subject see the Introduction to Berard's _De l'origine

des cultes Arcadiens_, and for a further discussion of the relationships

between Izdubar and Hercules, see Jeremias' _Izdubar-Nimrod_, pp. 70-73,

or his article in Roscher's _Ausfuehrliches Lexicon der Griechischen und

Roemischen Mythologie_, ii. 821-823.

[1008] Meissner, _Alexander und Gilgamos_ (Leipzig, 1894), pp. 13-17.

[1009] In the Greek and other versions, the mountain Musas or Masis is

mentioned,--that is, _Mashu_, as in the Gilgamesh epic. See p. 488.

[1010] See especially Budge, _The Life and Exploits of Alexander the

Great_ (London, Introduction, 1896); Noeldeke, _Beitraege zur Geschichte

des Alexander-Romans_ (Vienna, 1890) and Gaster, _An Old Hebrew Romance

of Alexander_ (_Journal Royal Asiat. Soc._, 1897, pp. 485-498).

The Religion of Babylonia and Assyria(#20758) · 第 23 / 29 章