Column I

(Gilgamesh meets Siduri)

Dwelt Siduri, keeper of the rest-house . . .

covered she was with a veil and . . .

Gilgamesh wandered towards her . . .

pelts was he wearing . . .

of mighty frame in his body, but woe in his belly,

and his countenance like to a man who has gone a far journey.

Looked in the distance the woman, and a word in her bosom

quoth she in thought with herself: "This is one who would do violence;

whither does he advance?" As soon as the woman saw him,

barred she her postern, barred she her inner door, barred she her chamber.

Straightway did Gilgamesh, too, in his turn catch the sound of her shutting,

lifted his chin, and so did he let his attention fall on her.

Unto her therefore Gilgamesh spoke, to the woman saying:

"Woman, what didst thou see, that thy postern now thou hast barred,

barred thine inner door, barred thy chamber? O, I will smite thy portal,

breaking the bolt . . ."

Unto him answered the woman, speaking to Gilgamesh, saying:

"Why is thy vigour so wasted, or why is thy countenance sunken?

Why has thy spirit a sorrow, or why has thy cheerfulness surcease?

O, but there is woe in thy belly! Like one who has gone a far journey

so is thy face; with cold and with heat is thy countenance weathered,

that thou shouldst range over the desert."

Gilgamesh unto her answered and spoke to the woman, saying:

"Woman, it is not my vigour is wasted, nor countenance sunken,

nor has my spirit a sorrow, nor my cheerfulness surcease;

no, it is not woe in my belly, nor does my visage resemble

one who has gone a far journey, nor is my countenance weathered

either by cold or by heat, that thus I range over the desert.

Comrade and henchman, who chased the wild ass, the pard of the desert,

Enkidu—we who all haps overcame, ascending the mountains,

captured the mighty bull and destroyed him, we overthrew Humbaba,

he who abode in the Forest of Cedars; we slaughtered the lions

there in the gates of the mountains; with me enduring all hardships,

Enkidu, he was my comrade—the lions we slaughtered together,

enduring all hardships—and him his fate has overtaken.

So did I mourn him six days, yea, a se'nnight, until unto burial

I could consign him; then did I fear.

Death did I dread, that I range o'er the desert; the lot of my comrade

lay on me heavy; O it is a long road that I range o'er the desert!

Enkidu, of my comrade the lot lay heavy upon me;

it is a long road that I range o'er the desert; O, how to be silent,

or how to give voice? For the comrade I have so loved

like to the dust has become; O Enkidu, he was my comrade,

he whom I loved has become like the dust; I, shall I not also

lay me down like him, throughout all eternity never returning?"

(The Old Babylonian Version of this episode)

Column II

"He who endured all hardships with me, whom I loved dearly,

Enkidu, he who endured all hardships with me, is now perished,

gone to the common lot of mankind! And I have bewailed him

day and night long, and unto the tomb I have not consigned him.

O but my friend comes not to my call; six days, yea, a se'nnight,

he like a worm has lain on his face; and I for this reason

find no life, but must needs roam the desert like to a hunter.

Wherefore, O woman, now that at last I look on thy visage,

death which I dread I will see not!"

(The Counsel of the Woman)

The woman answered Gilgamesh:

Column III

"Gilgamesh, why runnest thou, inasmuch as the life which thou seekest

thou canst not find? For God, in the first creation of mortals,

death allotted to man, but life He retained in His keeping.

Gilgamesh, full be thy belly,

each day and night be thou thankful, and daily keep holiday;

each day and night do thou rejoice in His gifts; and fresh be thy raiment;

aye, let thy head be clean washen, and bathe thyself in the water;

cherish the little one holding thy hand; be thy spouse in thy bosom

happy; for this is the portion of man."

(Gilgamesh, dissatisfied with this counsel, would seek further afield)

Gilgamesh thus continued his speech to the woman, saying:

"I pray thee, then, woman, which is the way unto Uta-Napishtim?

What is its token, I pray thee, vouchsafe me, vouchsafe me its token.

If it be possible, even the ocean itself will I traverse,

but if it should be impossible, then will I range o'er the desert."

(The woman, in accordance with tradition, attempts to dissuade him)

Thus did the woman answer to him, unto Gilgamesh saying:

"There has been never a crossing, O Gilgamesh; never aforetime

anyone, coming thus far, has been able to traverse the ocean.

By God's leave the sun crosses it, 'tis true, but who besides

makes the traverse? Rough is the ferry, and rougher its passage,

and deep are the Waters of Death, which bar its approaches.

Gilgamesh, if perchance thou succeed in traversing the ocean,

what wilt thou do when unto the Waters of Death thou arrivest?

Gilgamesh, there is Ur-Shanabi, boatman to Uta-Napishtim,

he with whom are the paddles, the urnu of which in the forest he plucks.

Now let him look on thy presence, and if it be possible with him

cross; but if it be not, then do thou retrace thy steps homewards."

Gilgamesh, hearing this, takes his axe in his hand, while he draws

glaive from his baldric.

(Gilgamesh meets Ur-Shanabi, but destroys the sails of the boat for some reason.)

Then Ur-Shanabi spoke to him, unto Gilgamesh saying:

"Tell to me what is thy name, for I am Ur-Shanabi, henchman

of far Uta-Napishtim." To him Gilgamesh answered:

"Gilgamesh, that is my name, come hither from Erech,

one who has traversed the mountains, a wearisome journey of sunrise.

Now that I look on thy face, Ur-Shanabi, Uta-Napishtim

let me see also, the Distant one!" Him did Ur-Shanabi answer.

Column III

Thus did Ur-Shanabi speak to him, unto Gilgamesh saying:

"Why is thy vigour all wasted . . ."

(and so on, in the same words as before)

Gilgamesh thus continued his speech to Ur-Shanabi, saying:

"I pray thee, Ur-Shanabi, which is the way unto Uta-Napishtim?

What is its token, I pray thee, vouchsafe me, vouchsafe me its token.

If it be possible, even the ocean itself will I traverse,

but if it should be impossible, then will I range o'er the desert."

Thus did Ur-Shanabi speak to him, unto Gilgamesh saying:

"Gilgamesh, it is thine own hand has hindered thy crossing the ocean;

thou hast destroyed the sails, and hast pierced the . . .

now destroyed are the sails, and the urnu not . . .

Gilgamesh, take thee thy axe in thy hand; O, descend to the forest,

fashion thee poles each of five gar in length; make knops of bitumen,

sockets too add to them; bring them to me."

Thereat, when Gilgamesh heard this,

took he the axe in his hand, and drew forth his glaive from his baldric,

went to the forest, and poles each of five gar in length did he fashion;

knops of bitumen he made, and he added their sockets; and brought them.

Gilgamesh then and Ur-Shanabi fared them forth in their vessel,

launched they the boat on the billow, and they themselves embarking.

After the course of a month and a half he saw on the third day

how that Ur-Shanabi now at the Waters of Death had arrived.

Column IV

Thus did Ur-Shanabi answer him, unto Gilgamesh saying:

"Gilgamesh, take the . . . away . . .

let not the Waters of Death touch thy hand . . .

Gilgamesh, take thou a second, a third, and a fourth pole for thrusting,

Gilgamesh, take thou a fifth, and a sixth, and a seventh for thrusting,

Gilgamesh, take thou an eighth, and a ninth, and a tenth pole for thrusting,

Gilgamesh, take an eleventh, a twelfth pole!" He ceased from his poling

with twice-sixty thrusts; then ungirded his loins,

Gilgamesh . . . and set up the mast in its socket.

(He reaches Uta-Napishtim)

Uta-Napishtim looked into the distance and, inwardly musing,

said to himself: "Now, why are the sails of the vessel destroyed,

and one who is not of my . . . rides on the vessel?

This is no mortal who comes . . .

I look, but this is no . . ."

(It becomes apparent that Uta-Napishtim is asking Gilgamesh in exactly the same words as the woman and Ur-Shanabi: "Why is thy vigour all wasted?" and so on.)

Gilgamesh thus continued his speech unto Uta-Napishtim:

"Then I bethought me, I will get hence and see what far Uta-Napishtim

says on the matter. And so again I came through all countries,

travelled o'er difficult mountains, and all seas have I traversed,

nor has ever my face had its fill of gentle sleep; but with hardship

have I exhausted myself, and my flesh have I laden with sorrow.

Ere I had come to the house of the woman, spent were my garments.

Owl, bat, lion, pard, wild cat, deer, ibex, and . . .

flesh of them all have I eaten, and eke their pelts have I dressed me."

Column VI

"Shall we for ever build houses, for ever set signet to contract,

brothers continue to share, or among foes always be hatred?

Or will for ever the stream that has risen in spate bring a torrent?

The face which looks on the sunlight shall presently not be . . .

Sleeping and dead are alike; from death they mark no distinction.

Servant and master, when once they have reached their full span allotted,

then do the angels, at God's command, settle the term;

death and life He determines; of death is the day not revealed."