The Epic of Gilgamesh E-Book

Morris Jastrow Jr.

• Herausgeber: Alicia Editions
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

“The Gilgamesh Epic is the most notable literary product of Babylonia as yet discovered in the mounds of Mesopotamia.”
The Gilgamesh Epic recount the exploits and adventures of a favorite hero and become the medium of illustrating aspects of life and the destiny of mankind. This Sumerian poems may be regarded as a confirmation of the statement that there are various traditions of the deluge apart from the Biblical one, which is perhaps legendary like the rest. This text (dating (circa 2100 BC) is often regarded as the first great work of literature.
While credit should be given to Dr. Langdon for having made this important tablet accessible, Dr Albert T. Cay has shown that attention be called to his failure to grasp the many important data furnished by the tablet, which escaped him because of his erroneous readings and faulty translations. This new edition contains their complete texts (footnotes and commentaries included): (1) An Old Babylonian Version of the Gilgamesh Epic—On the Basis of Recently Discovered Texts by Albert T. Clay and Morris Jastrow Jr. (2) The Epic of Gilgamesh—A Fragment of the Gilgamesh Legend in Old-Babylonian Cuneiform by Stephen Langdon.

“Now with the tendency to attach to popular tales and nature myths lessons illustrative of current beliefs and aspirations, Gilgamesh’s search for renewal of life is viewed as man’s longing for eternal life. The sun-god’s waning power after midsummer is past suggests man’s growing weakness after the meridian of life has been left behind. Winter is death, and man longs to escape it. Gilgamesh’s wanderings are used as illustration of this longing, and accordingly the search for life becomes also the quest for immortality. Can the precious boon of eternal life be achieved? Popular fancy created the figure of a favorite of the gods who had escaped a destructive deluge in which all mankind had perished. Gilgamesh hears of this favorite and determines to seek him out and learn from him the secret of eternal life. The deluge story, again a pure nature myth, symbolical of the rainy season which destroys all life in nature, is thus attached to the Epic. Gilgamesh after many adventures finds himself in the presence of the survivor of the Deluge who, although human, enjoys immortal life among the gods. He asks the survivor how he came to escape the common fate of mankind, and in reply Utnapishtim tells the story of the catastrophe that brought about universal destruction. The moral of the tale is obvious. Only those singled out by the special favor of the gods can hope to be removed to the distant “source of the streams” and live forever. The rest of mankind must face death as the end of life.”

DYNAMIC TABLE OF CONTENT, FOOTNOTES AND INTERNAL LINKS
 

Leseprobe

The Epic of Gilgamesh

Two Texts: An Old Babylonian Version of the Gilgamesh Epic—A Fragment of the Gilgamesh Legend in Old-Babylonian Cuneiform

Albert T. Clay

Morris Jastrow Jr.

withStephen Langdon

In Memory of

William Max Müller

(1863–1919)

Whose life was devoted to Egyptological research

which he greatly enriched

by many contributions

Contents

An Old Babylonian Version of the Gilgamesh Epic by Albert T. Clay and Morris Jastrow Jr.

On the Basis of Recently Discovered Texts

Prefatory Note.

Introduction.

I. Pennsylvania Tablet.

Table to facilitate a comparison with Langdon’s edition.

I. Pennsylvania Tablet. Transliteration.

Col. I.

Col. II.

Col. III.

Col. IV.

Col. V.

Col. VI.

II. Pennsylvania Tablet. Translation.

Col. I.

Col II.

Col. III.

Col. IV.

Col. V.

Col. VI.

III. Commentary on the Pennsylvania Tablet.

Col I.

Col. II.

Col. III.

Col. IV.

Col. V.

Col. VI.

II. Yale Tablet.

IV. Yale Tablet. Transliteration.

Col. I.

Col. II.

Col. III.

Col. IV.

Col. V.

Col. VI.

L.E.

V. Yale Tablet. Translation.

Col. I.

Col. II.

Col. III.

Col. IV.

Col. V.

Col. VI.

L.E.

VI. Commentary on the Yale Tablet.

Col. I.

Col. II.

Col. III.

Col. IV.

Col. V.

Col. VI.

III. Corrections to the Text of Langdon’s Edition of the Pennsylvania Tablet.

Column 1.

Column 2.

Column 3.

Column 4.

Column 5.

Column 6.

The Epic of Gilgamesh by Stephen Langdon

A Fragment of the Gilgamesh Legend in Old-Babylonian Cuneiform

Introduction.

Description of Tablets.

I. Transliteration.

COL I.

COL. II

COL. III

REVERSE COL. I

REVERSE COL. II

REVERSE COL. III

II. Translation.

COL I.

COL. II

COL. III

REVERSE COL. I

REVERSE COL. II

REVERSE COL. III

An Old Babylonian Version of the Gilgamesh Epic by Albert T. Clay and Morris Jastrow Jr.

On the Basis of Recently Discovered Texts

Prefatory Note.

The Introduction, the Commentary to the two tablets, and the Appendix, are by Professor Jastrow, and for these he assumes the sole responsibility. The text of the Yale tablet is by Professor Clay. The transliteration and the translation of the two tablets represent the joint work of the two authors. In the transliteration of the two tablets, C. E. Keiser’s “System of Accentuation for Sumero-Akkadian signs” (Yale Oriental Researches—VOL. IX, Appendix, New Haven, 1919) has been followed.

Introduction.

The Gilgamesh Epic is the most notable literary product of Babylonia as yet discovered in the mounds of Mesopotamia. It recounts the exploits and adventures of a favorite hero, and in its final form covers twelve tablets, each tablet consisting of six columns (three on the obverse and three on the reverse) of about 50 lines for each column, or a total of about 3600 lines. Of this total, however, barely more than one-half has been found among the remains of the great collection of cuneiform tablets gathered by King Ashurbanapal (668–626 B.C.) in his palace at Nineveh, and discovered by Layard in 18541 in the course of his excavations of the mound Kouyunjik (opposite Mosul). The fragments of the epic painfully gathered—chiefly by George Smith—from the circa 30,000 tablets and bits of tablets brought to the British Museum were published in model form by Professor Paul Haupt;2 and that edition still remains the primary source for our study of the Epic.

For the sake of convenience we may call the form of the Epic in the fragments from the library of Ashurbanapal the Assyrian version, though like most of the literary productions in the library it not only reverts to a Babylonian original, but represents a late copy of a much older original. The absence of any reference to Assyria in the fragments recovered justifies us in assuming that the Assyrian version received its present form in Babylonia, perhaps in Erech; though it is of course possible that some of the late features, particularly the elaboration of the teachings of the theologians or schoolmen in the eleventh and twelfth tablets, may have been produced at least in part under Assyrian influence. A definite indication that the Gilgamesh Epic reverts to a period earlier than Hammurabi (or Hammurawi)3 i.e., beyond 2000 B. C., was furnished by the publication of a text clearly belonging to the first Babylonian dynasty (of which Hammurabi was the sixth member) in CT. VI, 5; which text Zimmern4 recognized as a part of the tale of Atra-ḫasis, one of the names given to the survivor of the deluge, recounted on the eleventh tablet of the Gilgamesh Epic.5 This was confirmed by the discovery6 of a fragment of the deluge story dated in the eleventh year of Ammisaduka, i.e., c. 1967 B.C. In this text, likewise, the name of the deluge hero appears as Atra-ḫasis (col. VIII, 4).7 But while these two tablets do not belong to the Gilgamesh Epic and merely introduce an episode which has also been incorporated into the Epic, Dr. Bruno Meissner in 1902 published a tablet, dating, as the writing and the internal evidence showed, from the Hammurabi period, which undoubtedly is a portion of what by way of distinction we may call an old Babylonian version.8 It was picked up by Dr. Meissner at a dealer’s shop in Bagdad and acquired for the Berlin Museum. The tablet consists of four columns (two on the obverse and two on the reverse) and deals with the hero’s wanderings in search of a cure from disease with which he has been smitten after the death of his companion Enkidu. The hero fears that the disease will be fatal and longs to escape death. It corresponds to a portion of Tablet X of the Assyrian version. Unfortunately, only the lower portion of the obverse and the upper of the reverse have been preserved (57 lines in all); and in default of a colophon we do not know the numeration of the tablet in this old Babylonian edition. Its chief value, apart from its furnishing a proof for the existence of the Epic as early as 2000 B. C., lies (a) in the writing Gish instead of Gish-gi(n)-mash in the Assyrian version, for the name of the hero, (b) in the writing En-ki-dũ—abbreviated from dũg— “Enki is good” for En-ki-dú in the Assyrian version,9 and (c) in the remarkable address of the maiden Sabitum, dwelling at the seaside, to whom Gilgamesh comes in the course of his wanderings. From the Assyrian version we know that the hero tells the maiden of his grief for his lost companion, and of his longing to escape the dire fate of Enkidu. In the old Babylonian fragment the answer of Sabitum is given in full, and the sad note that it strikes, showing how hopeless it is for man to try to escape death which is in store for all mankind, is as remarkable as is the philosophy of “eat, drink and be merry” which Sabitum imparts. The address indicates how early the tendency arose to attach to ancient tales the current religious teachings.

“Why, O Gish, does thou run about?

The life that thou seekest, thou wilt not find.

When the gods created mankind,

Death they imposed on mankind;

Life they kept in their power.

Thou, O Gish, fill thy belly,

Day and night do thou rejoice,

Daily make a rejoicing!

Day and night a renewal of jollification!

Let thy clothes be clean,

Wash thy head and pour water over thee!

Care for the little one who takes hold of thy hand!

Let the wife rejoice in thy bosom!”

Such teachings, reminding us of the leading thought in the Biblical Book of Ecclesiastes,10 indicate the didactic character given to ancient tales that were of popular origin, but which were modified and elaborated under the influence of the schools which arose in connection with the Babylonian temples. The story itself belongs, therefore, to a still earlier period than the form it received in this old Babylonian version. The existence of this tendency at so early a date comes to us as a genuine surprise, and justifies the assumption that the attachment of a lesson to the deluge story in the Assyrian version, to wit, the limitation in attainment of immortality to those singled out by the gods as exceptions, dates likewise from the old Babylonian period. The same would apply to the twelfth tablet, which is almost entirely didactic, intended to illustrate the impossibility of learning anything of the fate of those who have passed out of this world. It also emphasizes the necessity of contenting oneself with the comfort that the care of the dead, by providing burial and food and drink offerings for them affords, as the only means of ensuring for them rest and freedom from the pangs of hunger and distress. However, it is of course possible that the twelfth tablet, which impresses one as a supplement to the adventures of Gilgamesh, ending with his return to Uruk (i.e., Erech) at the close of the eleventh tablet, may represent a later elaboration of the tendency to connect religious teachings with the exploits of a favorite hero.

We now have further evidence both of the extreme antiquity of the literary form of the Gilgamesh Epic and also of the disposition to make the Epic the medium of illustrating aspects of life and the destiny of mankind. The discovery by Dr. Arno Poebel of a Sumerian form of the tale of the descent of Ishtar to the lower world and her release11—apparently a nature myth to illustrate the change of season from summer to winter and back again to spring—enables us to pass beyond the Akkadian (or Semitic) form of tales current in the Euphrates Valley to the Sumerian form. Furthermore, we are indebted to Dr. Langdon for the identification of two Sumerian fragments in the Nippur Collection which deal with the adventures of Gilgamesh, one in Constantinople,12 the other in the collection of the University of Pennsylvania Museum.13 The former, of which only 25 lines are preserved (19 on the obverse and 6 on the reverse), appears to be a description of the weapons of Gilgamesh with which he arms himself for an encounter—presumably the encounter with Ḫumbaba or Ḫuwawa, the ruler of the cedar forest in the mountain.14 The latter deals with the building operations of Gilgamesh in the city of Erech. A text in Zimmern’s Sumerische Kultlieder aus altbabylonischer Zeit (Leipzig, 1913), No. 196, appears likewise to be a fragment of the Sumerian version of the Gilgamesh Epic, bearing on the episode of Gilgamesh’s and Enkidu’s relations to the goddess Ishtar, covered in the sixth and seventh tablets of the Assyrian version.15

Until, however, further fragments shall have turned up, it would be hazardous to institute a comparison between the Sumerian and the Akkadian versions. All that can be said for the present is that there is every reason to believe in the existence of a literary form of the Epic in Sumerian which presumably antedated the Akkadian recension, just as we have a Sumerian form of Ishtar’s descent into the nether world, and Sumerian versions of creation myths, as also of the Deluge tale.16 It does not follow, however, that the Akkadian versions of the Gilgamesh Epic are translations of the Sumerian, any more than that the Akkadian creation myths are translations of a Sumerian original. Indeed, in the case of the creation myths, the striking difference between the Sumerian and Akkadian views of creation17 points to the independent production of creation stories on the part of the Semitic settlers of the Euphrates Valley, though no doubt these were worked out in part under Sumerian literary influences. The same is probably true of Deluge tales, which would be given a distinctly Akkadian coloring in being reproduced and steadily elaborated by the Babylonian literati attached to the temples. The presumption is, therefore, in favor of an independent literary origin for the Semitic versions of the Gilgamesh Epic, though naturally with a duplication of the episodes, or at least of some of them, in the Sumerian narrative. Nor does the existence of a Sumerian form of the Epic necessarily prove that it originated with the Sumerians in their earliest home before they came to the Euphrates Valley. They may have adopted it after their conquest of southern Babylonia from the Semites who, there are now substantial grounds for believing, were the earlier settlers in the Euphrates Valley.18 We must distinguish, therefore, between the earliest literary form, which was undoubtedly Sumerian, and the origin of the episodes embodied in the Epic, including the chief actors, Gilgamesh and his companion Enkidu. It will be shown that one of the chief episodes, the encounter of the two heroes with a powerful guardian or ruler of a cedar forest, points to a western region, more specifically to Amurru, as the scene. The names of the two chief actors, moreover, appear to have been “Sumerianized” by an artificial process,19 and if this view turns out to be correct, we would have a further ground for assuming the tale to have originated among the Akkadian settlers and to have been taken over from them by the Sumerians.

New light on the earliest Babylonian version of the Epic, as well as on the Assyrian version, has been shed by the recovery of two substantial fragments of the form which the Epic had assumed in Babylonia in the Hammurabi period. The study of this important new material also enables us to advance the interpretation of the Epic and to perfect the analysis into its component parts. In the spring of 1914, the Museum of the University of Pennsylvania acquired by purchase a large tablet, the writing of which as well as the style and the manner of spelling verbal forms and substantives pointed distinctly to the time of the first Babylonian dynasty. The tablet was identified by Dr. Arno Poebel as part of the Gilgamesh Epic; and, as the colophon showed, it formed the second tablet of the series. He copied it with a view to publication, but the outbreak of the war which found him in Germany—his native country—prevented him from carrying out this intention.20 He, however, utilized some of its contents in his discussion of the historical or semi-historical traditions about Gilgamesh, as revealed by the important list of partly mythical and partly historical dynasties, found among the tablets of the Nippur collection, in which Gilgamesh occurs21 as a King of an Erech dynasty, whose father was Â, a priest of Kulab.22

The publication of the tablet was then undertaken by Dr. Stephen Langdon in monograph form under the title, “The Epic of Gilgamish.”23 In a preliminary article on the tablet in the Museum Journal, Vol. VIII, pages 29–38, Dr. Langdon took the tablet to be of the late Persian period (i.e., between the sixth and third century B. C.), but his attention having been called to this error of some 1500 years, he corrected it in his introduction to his edition of the text, though he neglected to change some of his notes in which he still refers to the text as “late.”24 In addition to a copy of the text, accompanied by a good photograph, Dr. Langdon furnished a transliteration and translation with some notes and a brief introduction. The text is unfortunately badly copied, being full of errors; and the translation is likewise very defective. A careful collation with the original tablet was made with the assistance of Dr. Edward Chiera, and as a consequence we are in a position to offer to scholars a correct text. We beg to acknowledge our obligations to Dr. Gordon, the Director of the Museum of the University of Pennsylvania, for kindly placing the tablet at our disposal. Instead of republishing the text, I content myself with giving a full list of corrections in the appendix to this volume which will enable scholars to control our readings, and which will, I believe, justify the translation in the numerous passages in which it deviates from Dr. Langdon’s rendering. While credit should be given to Dr. Langdon for having made this important tablet accessible, the interests of science demand that attention be called to his failure to grasp the many important data furnished by the tablet, which escaped him because of his erroneous readings and faulty translations.

The tablet, consisting of six columns (three on the obverse and three on the reverse), comprised, according to the colophon, 240 lines25 and formed the second tablet of the series. Of the total, 204 lines are preserved in full or in part, and of the missing thirty-six quite a number can be restored, so that we have a fairly complete tablet. The most serious break occurs at the top of the reverse, where about eight lines are missing. In consequence of this the connection between the end of the obverse (where about five lines are missing) and the beginning of the reverse is obscured, though not to the extent of our entirely losing the thread of the narrative.

About the same time that the University of Pennsylvania Museum purchased this second tablet of the Gilgamesh Series, Yale University obtained a tablet from the same dealer, which turned out to be a continuation of the University of Pennsylvania tablet. That the two belong to the same edition of the Epic is shown by their agreement in the dark brown color of the clay, in the writing as well as in the size of the tablet, though the characters on the Yale tablet are somewhat cramped and in consequence more difficult to read. Both tablets consist of six columns, three on the obverse and three on the reverse. The measurements of both are about the same, the Pennsylvania tablet being estimated at about 7 inches high, as against 72/16 inches for the Yale tablet, while the width of both is 6½ inches. The Yale tablet is, however, more closely written and therefore has a larger number of lines than the Pennsylvania tablet. The colophon to the Yale tablet is unfortunately missing, but from internal evidence it is quite certain that the Yale tablet follows immediately upon the Pennsylvania tablet and, therefore, may be set down as the third of the series. The obverse is very badly preserved, so that only a general view of its contents can be secured. The reverse contains serious gaps in the first and second columns. The scribe evidently had a copy before him which he tried to follow exactly, but finding that he could not get all of the copy before him in the six columns, he continued the last column on the edge. In this way we obtain for the sixth column 64 lines as against 45 for column IV, and 47 for column V, and a total of 292 lines for the six columns. Subtracting the 16 lines written on the edge leaves us 276 lines for our tablet as against 240 for its companion. The width of each column being the same on both tablets, the difference of 36 lines is made up by the closer writing.

Both tablets have peculiar knobs at the sides, the purpose of which is evidently not to facilitate holding the tablet in one’s hand while writing or reading it, as Langdon assumed26 (it would be quite impracticable for this purpose), but simply to protect the tablet in its position on a shelf, where it would naturally be placed on the edge, just as we arrange books on a shelf. Finally be it noted that these two tablets of the old Babylonian version do not belong to the same edition as the Meissner tablet above described, for the latter consists of two columns each on obverse and reverse, as against three columns each in the case of our two tablets. We thus have the interesting proof that as early as 2000 B.C. there were already several editions of the Epic. As to the provenance of our two tablets, there are no definite data, but it is likely that they were found by natives in the mounds at Warka, from which about the year 1913, many tablets came into the hands of dealers. It is likely that where two tablets of a series were found, others of the series were also dug up, and we may expect to find some further portions of this old Babylonian version turning up in the hands of other dealers or in museums.

Coming to the contents of the two tablets, the Pennsylvania tablet deals with the meeting of the two heroes, Gilgamesh and Enkidu, their conflict, followed by their reconciliation, while the Yale tablet in continuation takes up the preparations for the encounter of the two heroes with the guardian of the cedar forest, Ḫumbaba—but probably pronounced Ḫubaba27—or, as the name appears in the old Babylonian version, Ḫuwawa. The two tablets correspond, therefore, to portions of Tablets I to V of the Assyrian version;28 but, as will be shown in detail further on, the number of completely parallel passages is not large, and the Assyrian version shows an independence of the old Babylonian version that is larger than we had reason to expect. In general, it may be said that the Assyrian version is more elaborate, which points to its having received its present form at a considerably later period than the old Babylonian version.29 On the other hand, we already find in the Babylonian version the tendency towards repetition, which is characteristic of Babylonian-Assyrian tales in general. Through the two Babylonian tablets we are enabled to fill out certain details of the two episodes with which they deal: (1) the meeting of Gilgamesh and Enkidu, and (2) the encounter with Ḫuwawa; while their greatest value consists in the light that they throw on the gradual growth of the Epic until it reached its definite form in the text represented by the fragments in Ashurbanapal’s Library. Let us now take up the detailed analysis, first of the Pennsylvania tablet and then of the Yale tablet. The Pennsylvania tablet begins with two dreams recounted by Gilgamesh to his mother, which the latter interprets as presaging the coming of Enkidu to Erech. In the one, something like a heavy meteor falls from heaven upon Gilgamesh and almost crushes him. With the help of the heroes of Erech, Gilgamesh carries the heavy burden to his mother Ninsun. The burden, his mother explains, symbolizes some one who, like Gilgamesh, is born in the mountains, to whom all will pay homage and of whom Gilgamesh will become enamoured with a love as strong as that for a woman. In a second dream, Gilgamesh sees some one who is like him, who brandishes an axe, and with whom he falls in love. This personage, the mother explains, is again Enkidu.

Langdon is of the opinion that these dreams are recounted to Enkidu by a woman with whom Enkidu cohabits for six days and seven nights and who weans Enkidu from association with animals. This, however, cannot be correct. The scene between Enkidu and the woman must have been recounted in detail in the first tablet, as in the Assyrian version,30 whereas here in the second tablet we have the continuation of the tale with Gilgamesh recounting his dreams directly to his mother. The story then continues with the description of the coming of Enkidu, conducted by the woman to the outskirts of Erech, where food is given him. The main feature of the incident is the conversion of Enkidu to civilized life. Enkidu, who hitherto had gone about naked, is clothed by the woman. Instead of sucking milk and drinking from a trough like an animal, food and strong drink are placed before him, and he is taught how to eat and drink in human fashion. In human fashion he also becomes drunk, and his “spree” is naïvely described: “His heart became glad and his face shone.”31

Like an animal, Enkidu’s body had hitherto been covered with hair, which is now shaved off. He is anointed with oil, and clothed “like a man.” Enkidu becomes a shepherd, protecting the fold against wild beasts, and his exploit in dispatching lions is briefly told. At this point—the end of column 3 (on the obverse), i.e., line 117, and the beginning of column 4 (on the reverse), i.e., line 131—a gap of 13 lines—the tablet is obscure, but apparently the story of Enkidu’s gradual transformation from savagery to civilized life is continued, with stress upon his introduction to domestic ways with the wife chosen or decreed for him, and with work as part of his fate. All this has no connection with Gilgamesh, and it is evident that the tale of Enkidu was originally an independent tale to illustrate the evolution of man’s career and destiny, how through intercourse with a woman he awakens to the sense of human dignity, how he becomes accustomed to the ways of civilization, how he passes through the pastoral stage to higher walks of life, how the family is instituted, and how men come to be engaged in the labors associated with human activities. In order to connect this tale with the Gilgamesh story, the two heroes are brought together; the woman taking on herself, in addition to the rôle of civilizer, that of the medium through which Enkidu is brought to Gilgamesh. The woman leads Enkidu from the outskirts of Erech into the city itself, where the people on seeing him remark upon his likeness to Gilgamesh. He is the very counterpart of the latter, though somewhat smaller in stature. There follows the encounter between the two heroes in the streets of Erech, where they engage in a fierce combat. Gilgamesh is overcome by Enkidu and is enraged at being thrown to the ground. The tablet closes with the endeavor of Enkidu to pacify Gilgamesh. Enkidu declares that the mother of Gilgamesh has exalted her son above the ordinary mortal, and that Enlil himself has singled him out for royal prerogatives.

After this, we may assume, the two heroes become friends and together proceed to carry out certain exploits, the first of which is an attack upon the mighty guardian of the cedar forest. This is the main episode in the Yale tablet, which, therefore, forms the third tablet of the old Babylonian version.

In the first column of the obverse of the Yale tablet, which is badly preserved, it would appear that the elders of Erech (or perhaps the people) are endeavoring to dissuade Gilgamesh from making the attempt to penetrate to the abode of Ḫuwawa. If this is correct, then the close of the first column may represent a conversation between these elders and the woman who accompanies Enkidu. It would be the elders who are represented as “reporting the speech to the woman,” which is presumably the determination of Gilgamesh to fight Ḫuwawa. The elders apparently desire Enkidu to accompany Gilgamesh in this perilous adventure, and with this in view appeal to the woman. In the second column after an obscure reference to the mother of Gilgamesh—perhaps appealing to the sun-god—we find Gilgamesh and Enkidu again face to face. From the reference to Enkidu’s eyes “filled with tears,” we may conclude that he is moved to pity at the thought of what will happen to Gilgamesh if he insists upon carrying out his purpose. Enkidu, also, tries to dissuade Gilgamesh. This appears to be the main purport of the dialogue between the two, which begins about the middle of the second column and extends to the end of the third column. Enkidu pleads that even his strength is insufficient,

“My arms are lame,

My strength has become weak.”

(lines 88–89)

Gilgamesh apparently asks for a description of the terrible tyrant who thus arouses the fear of Enkidu, and in reply Enkidu tells him how at one time, when he was roaming about with the cattle, he penetrated into the forest and heard the roar of Ḫuwawa which was like that of a deluge. The mouth of the tyrant emitted fire, and his breath was death. It is clear, as Professor Haupt has suggested,32 that Enkidu furnishes the description of a volcano in eruption, with its mighty roar, spitting forth fire and belching out a suffocating smoke. Gilgamesh is, however, undaunted and urges Enkidu to accompany him in the adventure.

“I will go down to the forest,” says Gilgamesh, if the conjectural restoration of the line in question (l. 126) is correct. Enkidu replies by again drawing a lurid picture of what will happen “When we go (together) to the forest…….” This speech of Enkidu is continued on the reverse. In reply Gilgamesh emphasizes his reliance upon the good will of Shamash and reproaches Enkidu with cowardice. He declares himself superior to Enkidu’s warning, and in bold terms says that he prefers to perish in the attempt to overcome Ḫuwawa rather than abandon it.

“Wherever terror is to be faced,

Thou, forsooth, art in fear of death.

Thy prowess lacks strength.

I will go before thee,

Though thy mouth shouts to me: ‘thou art afraid to approach,’

If I fall, I will establish my name.”

(lines 143–148)

There follows an interesting description of the forging of the weapons for the two heroes in preparation for the encounter.33 The elders of Erech when they see these preparations are stricken with fear. They learn of Ḫuwawa’s threat to annihilate Gilgamesh if he dares to enter the cedar forest, and once more try to dissuade Gilgamesh from the undertaking.

“Thou art young, O Gish, and thy heart carries thee away,

Thou dost not know what thou proposest to do.”

(lines 190–191)

They try to frighten Gilgamesh by repeating the description of the terrible Ḫuwawa. Gilgamesh is still undaunted and prays to his patron deity Shamash, who apparently accords him a favorable “oracle” (têrtu). The two heroes arm themselves for the fray, and the elders of Erech, now reconciled to the perilous undertaking, counsel Gilgamesh to take provision along for the undertaking. They urge Gilgamesh to allow Enkidu to take the lead, for

“He is acquainted with the way, he has trodden the road

[to] the entrance of the forest.”

(lines 252–253)

The elders dismiss Gilgamesh with fervent wishes that Enkidu may track out the “closed path” for Gilgamesh, and commit him to the care of Lugalbanda—here perhaps an epithet of Shamash. They advise Gilgamesh to perform certain rites, to wash his feet in the stream of Ḫuwawa and to pour out a libation of water to Shamash. Enkidu follows in a speech likewise intended to encourage the hero; and with the actual beginning of the expedition against Ḫuwawa the tablet ends. The encounter itself, with the triumph of the two heroes, must have been described in the fourth tablet.

Now before taking up the significance of the additions to our knowledge of the Epic gained through these two tablets, it will be well to discuss the forms in which the names of the two heroes and of the ruler of the cedar forest occur in our tablets.

As in the Meissner fragment, the chief hero is invariably designated as dGish in both the Pennsylvania and Yale tablets; and we may therefore conclude that this was the common form in the Hammurabi period, as against the writing dGish-gì(n)-mash34 in the Assyrian version. Similarly, as in the Meissner fragment, the second hero’s name is always written En-ki-dũ35 (abbreviated from dúg) as against En-ki-dú in the Assyrian version. Finally, we encounter in the Yale tablet for the first time the writing Ḫu-wa-wa as the name of the guardian of the cedar forest, as against Ḫum-ba-ba in the Assyrian version, though in the latter case, as we may now conclude from the Yale tablet, the name should rather be read Ḫu-ba-ba.36 The variation in the writing of the latter name is interesting as pointing to the aspirate pronunciation of the labial in both instances. The name would thus present a complete parallel to the Hebrew name Ḫowawa (or Ḫobab) who appears as the brother-in-law of Moses in the P document, Numbers 10, 29.37 Since the name also occurs, written precisely as in the Yale tablet, among the “Amoritic” names in the important lists published by Dr. Chiera,38 there can be no doubt that Ḫuwawa or Ḫubaba is a West Semitic name. This important fact adds to the probability that the “cedar forest” in which Ḫuwawa dwells is none other than the Lebanon district, famed since early antiquity for its cedars. This explanation of the name Ḫuwawa disposes of suppositions hitherto brought forward for an Elamitic origin. Gressmann39 still favors such an origin, though realizing that the description of the cedar forest points to the Amanus or Lebanon range. In further confirmation of the West Semitic origin of the name, we have in Lucian, De Dea Syria, § 19, the name Kombabos40 (the guardian of Stratonika), which forms a perfect parallel to Ḫu(m)baba. Of the important bearings of this western character of the name Ḫuwawa on the interpretation and origin of the Gilgamesh Epic, suggesting that the episode of the encounter between the tyrant and the two heroes rests upon a tradition of an expedition against the West or Amurru land, we shall have more to say further on.

The variation in the writing of the name Enkidu is likewise interesting. It is evident that the form in the old Babylonian version with the sign dũ (i.e., dúg) is the original, for it furnishes us with a suitable etymology “Enki is good.” The writing with dúg, pronounced dū, also shows that the sign dú as the third element in the form which the name has in the Assyrian version is to be read dú, and that former readings like Ea-bani must be definitely abandoned.41 The form with dú is clearly a phonetic writing of the Sumerian name, the sign dú being chosen to indicate the pronunciation (not the ideograph) of the third element dúg. This is confirmed by the writing En-gi-dú in the syllabary CT XVIII, 30, 10. The phonetic writing is, therefore, a warning against any endeavor to read the name by an Akkadian transliteration of the signs. This would not of itself prove that Enkidu is of Sumerian origin, for it might well be that the writing En-ki-dú is an endeavor to give a Sumerian aspect to a name that may have been foreign. The element dúg corresponds to the Semitic ṭâbu, “good,” and En-ki being originally a designation of a deity as the “lord of the land,” which would be the Sumerian manner of indicating a Semitic Baal, it is not at all impossible that En-ki-dúg may be the “Sumerianized” form of a Semitic בַּעל טזֹב “Baal is good.” It will be recalled that in the third column of the Yale tablet, Enkidu speaks of himself in his earlier period while still living with cattle, as wandering into the cedar forest of Ḫuwawa, while in another passage (ll. 252–253) he is described as “acquainted with the way … to the entrance of the forest.” This would clearly point to the West as the original home of Enkidu. We are thus led once more to Amurru—taken as a general designation of the West—as playing an important role in the Gilgamesh Epic.42 If Gilgamesh’s expedition against Ḫuwawa of the Lebanon district recalls a Babylonian campaign against Amurru, Enkidu’s coming from his home, where, as we read repeatedly in the Assyrian version,

“He ate herbs with the gazelles,

Drank out of a trough with cattle,”43

may rest on a tradition of an Amorite invasion of Babylonia. The fight between Gilgamesh and Enkidu would fit in with this tradition, while the subsequent reconciliation would be the form in which the tradition would represent the enforced union between the invaders and the older settlers.

Leaving this aside for the present, let us proceed to a consideration of the relationship of the form dGish, for the chief personage in the Epic in the old Babylonian version, to dGish-gi(n)-mash in the Assyrian version. Of the meaning of Gish there is fortunately no doubt. It is clearly the equivalent to the Akkadian zikaru, “man” (Brünnow No. 5707), or possibly rabû, “great” (Brünnow No. 5704). Among various equivalents, the preference is to be given to itlu, “hero.” The determinative for deity stamps the person so designated as deified, or as in part divine, and this is in accord with the express statement in the Assyrian version of the Gilgamesh Epic which describes the hero as

“Two-thirds god and one-third human.”44

Gish is, therefore, the hero-god par excellence; and this shows that we are not dealing with a genuine proper name, but rather with a descriptive attribute. Proper names are not formed in this way, either in Sumerian or Akkadian. Now what relation does this form Gish bear to

as the name of the hero is invariably written in the Assyrian version, the form which was at first read dIz-tu-bar or dGish-du-bar by scholars, until Pinches found in a neo-Babylonian syllabary45 the equation of it with Gi-il-ga-mesh? Pinches’ discovery pointed conclusively to the popular pronunciation of the hero’s name as Gilgamesh; and since Aelian (De natura Animalium XII, 2) mentions a Babylonian personage Gilgamos (though what he tells us of Gilgamos does not appear in our Epic, but seems to apply to Etana, another figure of Babylonian mythology), there seemed to be no further reason to question that the problem had been solved. Besides, in a later Syriac list of Babylonian kings found in the Scholia of Theodor bar Koni, the name גלמגום with a variant גמיגמוס occurs,46 and it is evident that we have here again the Gi-il-ga-mesh, discovered by Pinches. The existence of an old Babylonian hero Gilgamesh who was likewise a king is thus established, as well as his identification with