History Of Egypt, Chaldea, Syria, Babylonia, and Assyria, Vol. 3 — 08 - Ch. 1: Ancient Chaldaea, pt. 8

Drawn by Faucher-Gudin, from a Chaldaean intaglio in the British Museum.

The original measures a little over an inch.

Arad-Ea and the hero took ship: forty days’ tempestuous cruising brought them to the Waters of Death, which with a supreme effort they passed.

Beyond these they rested on their oars and loosed their girdles: the happy island rose up before them, and Shamashnapishtim stood upon the shore, ready to answer the questions of his grandson.

None but a god dare enter his mysterious paradise: the bark bearing an ordinary mortal must stop at some distance from the shore, and the conversation is carried on from on board.

Gilgames narrated once more the story of his life, and makes known the object of his visit;

Shamashnapishtim answers him stoically that death follows from an inexorable law, to which it is better to submit with a good grace.

“However long the time we shall build houses, however long the time we shall put our seal to contracts, however long the time brothers shall quarrel with each other, however long the time there shall be hostility between kings, however long the time rivers shall overflow their banks, we shall not be able to portray any image of death.

When the spirits salute a man at his birth, then the genii of the earth, the great gods, Mamitu the moulder of destinies, all of them together assign a fate to him, they determine for him his life and death; but the day of his death remains unknown to him.

” Gilgames thinks, doubtless, that his forefather is amusing himself at his expense in preaching resignation, seeing that he himself had been able to escape this destiny.

“I look upon thee, Shamashnapishtim, and thy appearance has not changed: thou art like me and not different, thou art like me and I am like thee.

Thou wouldest be strong enough of heart to enter upon a combat, to judge by thy appearance; tell me, then, how thou hast obtained this existence among the gods to which thou hast aspired?

” Shamashnapishtim yields to his wish, if only to show him how abnormal his own case was, and indicate the merits which had marked him out for a destiny superior to that of the common herd of humanity.

He describes the deluge to him, and relates how he was able to escape from it by the favour of Ea, and how by that of Bel he was made while living a member of the army of the gods.

“‘And now,’ he adds, ‘as far as thou art concerned, which one of the Gods will bestow upon thee the strength to obtain the life which thou seekest?

Come, go to sleep!

’ Six days and seven nights he is as a man whose strength appears suspended, for sleep has fallen upon him like a blast of wind.

Shamashnapishtim spoke to his wife: ‘Behold this man who asks for life, and upon whom sleep has fallen like a blast of wind.

’ The wife answers Shamashnapishtim, the man of distant lands: ‘Cast a spell upon him, this man, and he will eat of the magic broth; and the road by which he has come, he will retrace it in health of body; and the great gate through which he has come forth, he will return by it to his country.

’ Shamashnapishtim spoke to his wife: ‘The misfortunes of this man distress thee: very well, cook the broth, and place it by his head.

’ And while Gilgames still slept on board his vessel, the material for the broth was gathered; on the second day it was picked, on the third it was steeped, on the fourth Shamashnapishtim prepared his pot, on the fifth he put into it ‘Senility,’ on the sixth the broth was cooked, on the seventh he cast his spell suddenly on his man, and the latter consumed the broth.

Then Gilgames spoke to Shamashnapishtim, the inhabitant of distant lands: ‘I hesitated, slumber laid hold of me; thou hast cast a spell upon me, thou hast given me the broth.

’” The effect would not have been lasting, if other ceremonies had not followed in addition to this spell from the sorcerer’s kitchen: Gilgames after this preparation could now land upon the shore of the happy island and purify himself there.

Shamashnapishtim confided this business to his mariner Arad-Ea: “‘The man whom thou hast brought, his body is covered with ulcers, the leprous scabs have spoiled the beauty of his body.

Take him, Arad-Ea, lead him to the place of purification, let him wash his ulcers white as snow in the water, let him get rid of his scabs, and let the sea bear them away so that at length his body may appear healthy.

He will then change the fillet which binds his brows, and the loin-cloth which hides his nakedness: until he returns to his country, until he reaches the end of his journey, let him by no means put off the loin-cloth, however ragged;

then only shall he have always a clean one.

’ Then Arad-Ea took him and conducted him to the place of purification: he washed his ulcers white as snow in the water, he got rid of his scabs, and the sea carried them away, so that at length his body appeared healthy.

He changed the fillet which bound his brows, the loincloth which hid his nakedness: until he should reach the end of his journey, he was not to put off the loin-cloth, however ragged; then alone was he to have a clean one.

” The cure effected, Gilgames goes again on board his bark, and returns to the place where Shamashnapishtim was awaiting him.

Shamashnapishtim would not send his descendant back to the land of the living without making him a princely present.

“His wife spoke to him, to him Shamashnapishtim, the inhabitant of distant lands: ‘Gilgames has come, he is comforted, he is cured; what wilt thou give to him, now that he is about to return to his country?

’ He took the oars, Gilgames, he brought the bark near the shore, and Shamashnapishtim spoke to him, to Gilgames: ‘Gilgames, thou art going from here comforted; what shall I give thee, now that thou art about to return to thy country?

I am about to reveal to thee, Gilgames, a secret, and the judgment of the gods I am about to tell it thee.

There is a plant similar to the hawthorn in its flower, and whose thorns prick like the viper.

If thy hand can lay hold of that plant without being torn, break from it a branch, and bear it with thee; it will secure for thee an eternal youth.

’Gilgames gathers the branch, and in his joy plans with Arad-Ea future enterprises: ‘Arad-Ea, this plant is the plant of renovation, by which a man obtains life; I will bear it with me to Uruk the well-protected, I will cultivate a bush from it, I will cut some of it, and its name shall be, “the old man becomes young by it;” I will eat of it, and I shall repossess the vigour of my youth.

’” He reckoned without the gods, whose jealous minds will not allow men to participate in their privileges.

The first place on which they set foot on shore, “he perceived a well of fresh water, went down to it, and whilst he was drawing water, a serpent came out of it, and snatched from him the plant, yea--the serpent rushed out and bore away the plant, and while escaping uttered a malediction.

That day Gilgames sat down, he wept, and his tears streamed down his cheeks he said to the mariner Arad-Ba: ‘What is the use, Arad-Ea, of my renewed strength; what is the use of my heart’s rejoicing in my return to life?

It is not myself I have served; it is this earthly lion I have served.

Hardly twenty leagues on the road, and he for himself alone has already taken possession of the plant.

As I opened the well, the plant was lost to me, and the genius of the fountain took possession of it: who am I that I should tear it from him?

’” He re-embarks in sadness, he re-enters Uruk the well-protected, and at length begins to think of celebrating the funeral solemnities of Eabani, to whom he was not able to show respect at the time of his death.

He supervises them, fulfils the rites, intones the final chant: “The temples, thou shalt enter them no more; the white vestments, thou shalt no longer put them on; the sweet-smelling ointments, thou shalt no longer anoint thyself with them to envelop thee with their perfume.

Thou shalt no longer press thy bow to the ground to bend it, but those that the bow has wounded shall surround thee; thou no longer holdest thy sceptre in thy hand, but spectres fascinate thee; thou no longer adornest thy feet with wings, thou no longer givest forth a sound upon the earth.

Thy wife whom thou lovedst thou embracest her no more; thy wife whom thou hatedst thou beatest her no more.

Thy daughter whom thou lovedst thou embracest her no more; thy daughter whom thou hatedst, thou beatest her no more.

The resounding earth lies heavy upon thee, she who is dark, she who is dark, Tjinazu the mother, she who is dark, whose side is-not veiled with splendid vestments, whose bosom, like a new-born animal, is not covered.

Eabani has descended from the earth to Hades; it is not the messenger of Nergal the implacable who has snatched him away, it is not the plague which has carried him off, it is not consumption that has carried him off, it is the earth which has carried him off; it is not the field of battle which has carried him off, it is the earth which has carried him off!

” Gilgames dragged himself along from temple to temple, repeating his complaint before Bel and before Sin, and at length threw himself at the feet of the god of the Dead, Nergal: “‘Burst open the sepulchral cavern, open the ground, that the spirit of Eabani may issue from the soil like a blast of wind.

’ As soon as Nergal the valiant heard him, he burst open the sepulchral vault, he opened the earth, he caused the spirit of Eabani to issue from the earth like a blast of wind.

” Gilgames interrogates him, and asks him with anxiety what the state of the dead may be: “‘Tell, my friend, tell, my friend, open the earth and what thou seest tell it.

’--‘I cannot tell it thee, my friend, I cannot tell it thee; if I should open the earth before thee, if I were to tell to thee that which I have seen, terror would overthrow thee, thou wouldest faint away, thou wouldest weep.

’--‘Terror will overthrow me, I shall faint away, I shall weep, but tell it to me.

’” And the ghost depicts for him the sorrows of the abode and the miseries of the shades.

Those only enjoy some happiness who have fallen with arms in their hands, and who have been solemnly buried after the fight; the manes neglected by their relatives succumb to hunger and thirst.

* “On a sleeping couch he lies, drinking pure water, he who has been killed in battle.

‘Thou hast seen him?

’--‘I have seen him; his father and his mother support his head, and his wife bends over him wailing.

’ ‘But he whose body remains forgotten in the fields,--thou hast seen him?

’--‘I have seen him; his soul has no rest at all in the earth.

’ ‘He whose soul no one cares for,--thou hast seen him?

’--‘I have seen him; the dregs of the cup, the remains of a repast, that which is thrown among the refuse of the street, that is what he has to nourish him.

’” This poem did not proceed in its entirety, or at one time, from the imagination of a single individual.

Each episode of it answers to some separate legend concerning Gilgames, or the origin of Uruk the well-protected: the greater part preserves under a later form an air of extreme antiquity, and, if the events dealt with have not a precise bearing on the life of a king, they paint in a lively way the vicissitudes of the life of the people.

** These lions, leopards, or gigantic uruses with which Grilgames and his faithful Eabani carry on so fierce a warfare, are not, as is sometimes said, mythological animals.

* Cf.

vol. i.

pp. 160, 161 of this History for analogous ideas among the Egyptians as to the condition of the dead who were neglected by their relatives: the Egyptian double had to live on the same refuse as the Chaldaean soul.