Introduction.
Reading edition
“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!”
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.
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)
“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)
“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.
“He ate herbs with the gazelles,
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
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


dGish-gibil(or bíl)-ga-mesh
muḳ-tab-lu (“warrior”)
a-lik pa-na (“leader”)
All three designations are set down as the equivalent of the Sumerian Esigga imin i.e., “the seven-fold hero.”
Esigga-tuk and its equivalent Gish-tuk = “the one who is a hero.”
dGish-gi-mas-[si?] = dGish-bil-[ga-mesh].
“Do not trust, O Gilgamesh, in thy strength!
Be warned(?) against trusting to thy attack!
Let Enkidu go before thee.
He knows the roads to the cedar forest;
He is skilled in battle and has seen fight.”
“To a fight unknown to him, he advances,
“Who is distinguished among the heroes?
Who is glorious among men?
[Enkidu] is distinguished among heroes,
Finally, the killing of lions is directly ascribed to Enkidu in the Pennsylvania tablet:
“Lions he attacked
* * * * *
whereas Gilgamesh appears to be afraid of lions. On his long search for Utnapishtim he says:
“On reaching the entrance of the mountain at night
The artificiality of the process which brings the two heroes together is apparent in the dreams of Gilgamesh which are interpreted by his mother as portending the coming of Enkidu. Not the conflict is foreseen, but the subsequent close association, naïvely described as due to the personal charm which Enkidu exercises, which will lead Gilgamesh to fall in love with the one whom he is to meet. The two will become one, like man and wife.
On the basis of our investigations, we are now in a position to reconstruct in part the cycle of episodes that once formed part of an Enkidu Epic. The fight between Enkidu and Gilgamesh, in which the former is the victor, is typical of the kind of tales told of Enkidu. He is the real prototype of the Greek Hercules. He slays lions, he overcomes a powerful opponent dwelling in the forests of Lebanon, he kills the bull, and he finally succumbs to disease sent as a punishment by an angry goddess. The death of Enkidu naturally formed the close of the Enkidu Epic, which in its original form may, of course, have included other exploits besides those taken over into the Gilgamesh Epic.
“Aruru upon hearing this created a man of Anu in her heart.”
Now this “man of Anu” cannot possibly be Enkidu, for the sufficient reason that a few lines further on Enkidu is described as an offspring of Ninib. Moreover, the being created is not a “counterpart” of Gilgamesh, but an animal-man, as the description that follows shows. We must separate lines 30–33 in which the creation of the “Anu man” is described from lines 34–41 in which the creation of Enkidu is narrated. Indeed, these lines strike one as the proper beginning of the original Enkidu story, which would naturally start out with his birth and end with his death. The description is clearly an account of the creation of the first man, in which capacity Enkidu is brought forward.
“Aruru washed her hands, broke off clay,
… created Enkidu, the hero, a lofty
“Go my hunter, take with thee a woman.”
In the reconstructed tale, the father tells his son to go to Gilgamesh to relate to him the strange appearance of the animal-man; but there is clearly no purpose in this, as is shown by the fact that when the hunter does so, Gilgamesh makes precisely the same speech as does the father of the hunter. Lines 40–44 of column 3, in which Gilgamesh is represented as speaking to the hunter form a complete doublet to lines 19–24, beginning
“Go, my hunter, take with thee a woman, etc.”
and similarly the description of Enkidu appears twice, lines 2–12 in an address of the hunter to his father, and lines 29–39 in the address of the hunter to Gilgamesh.
Tablet I, col. 2, 34–35: Creation of Enkidu by Aruru.
36–41: Description of Enkidu’s hairy body and of his life with the animals.
42–50: The hunter sees Enkidu, who shows his anger, as also his woe, at his condition.
3, 1–12: The hunter tells his father of the strange being who pulls up the traps which the hunter digs, and who tears the nets so that the hunter is unable to catch him or the animals.
19–24: The father of the hunter advises his son on his next expedition to take a woman with him in order to lure the strange being from his life with the animals.
Line 25, beginning “On the advice of his father,” must have set forth, in the original form of the episode, how the hunter procured the woman and took her with him to meet Enkidu.
Column 4 gives in detail the meeting between the two, and naïvely describes how the woman exposes her charms to Enkidu, who is captivated by her and stays with her six days and seven nights. The animals see the change in Enkidu and run away from him. He has been transformed through the woman. So far the episode. In the Assyrian version there follows an address of the woman to Enkidu beginning (col. 4, 34):
“Beautiful art thou, Enkidu, like a god art thou.”
We find her urging him to go with her to Erech, there to meet Gilgamesh and to enjoy the pleasures of city life with plenty of beautiful maidens. Gilgamesh, she adds, will expect Enkidu, for the coming of the latter to Erech has been foretold in a dream. It is evident that here we have again the later transformation of the Enkidu Epic in order to bring the two heroes together. Will it be considered too bold if we assume that in the original form the address of the woman and the construction of the episode were such as we find preserved in part in columns 2 to 4 of the Pennsylvania tablet, which forms part of the new material that can now be added to the Epic? The address of the woman begins in line 51 of the Pennsylvania tablet:
“I gaze upon thee, Enkidu, like a god art thou.”
This corresponds to the line in the Assyrian version (I, 4, 34) as given above, just as lines 52–53:
“Why with the cattle Dost thou roam across the field?”
correspond to I, 4, 35, of the Assyrian version. There follows in both the old Babylonian and the Assyrian version the appeal of the woman to Enkidu, to allow her to lead him to Erech where Gilgamesh dwells (Pennsylvania tablet lines 54–61 = Assyrian version I, 4, 36–39); but in the Pennsylvania tablet we now have a second speech (lines 62–63) beginning like the first one with al-ka, “come:”
“Come, arise from the accursed ground.”
Enkidu consents, and now the woman takes off her garments and clothes the naked Enkidu, while putting another garment on herself. She takes hold of his hand and leads him to the sheepfolds (not to Erech!!), where bread and wine are placed before him. Accustomed hitherto to sucking milk with cattle, Enkidu does not know what to do with the strange food until encouraged and instructed by the woman. The entire third column is taken up with this introduction of Enkidu to civilized life in a pastoral community, and the scene ends with Enkidu becoming a guardian of flocks. Now all this has nothing to do with Gilgamesh, and clearly sets forth an entirely different idea from the one embodied in the meeting of the two heroes. In the original Enkidu tale, the animal-man is looked upon as the type of a primitive savage, and the point of the tale is to illustrate in the naïve manner characteristic of folklore the evolution to the higher form of pastoral life. This aspect of the incident is, therefore, to be separated from the other phase which has as its chief motif the bringing of the two heroes together.
If the thesis here set forth of the original character and import of the episode of Enkidu with the woman is correct, we may again regard lines 149–153 of the Pennsylvania tablet, in which Gilgamesh is introduced, as a later addition to bring the two heroes into association. The episode in its original form ended with the introduction of Enkidu first to pastoral life, and then to the still higher city life with regulated forms of social existence.
Thereupon he is taught his duties as a husband, is introduced to the work of building, and to laying aside supplies, and the like. The fully-developed and full-fledged hero then engages in various exploits, of which some are now embodied in the Gilgamesh Epic. Who this Enkidu was, we are not in a position to determine, but the suggestion has been thrown out above that he is a personage foreign to Babylonia, that his home appears to be in the undefined Amurru district, and that he conquers that district. The original tale of Enkidu, if this view be correct, must therefore have been carried to the Euphrates Valley, at a very remote period, with one of the migratory waves that brought a western people as invaders into Babylonia. Here the tale was combined with stories current of another hero, Gilgamesh—perhaps also of Western origin—whose conquest of Erech likewise represents an invasion of Babylonia. The center of the Gilgamesh tale was Erech, and in the process of combining the stories of Enkidu and Gilgamesh, Enkidu is brought to Erech and the two perform exploits in common. In such a combination, the aim would be to utilize all the incidents of both tales. The woman who accompanies Enkidu, therefore, becomes the medium of bringing the two heroes together. The story of the evolution of primitive man to civilized life is transformed into the tale of Enkidu’s removal to Erech, and elaborated with all kinds of details, among which we have, as perhaps embodying a genuine historical tradition, the encounter of the two heroes.
Before passing on, we have merely to note the very large part taken in both the old Babylonian and the Assyrian version by the struggle against Ḫuwawa. The entire Yale tablet—forming, as we have seen, the third of the series—is taken up with the preparation for the struggle, and with the repeated warnings given to Gilgamesh against the dangerous undertaking. The fourth tablet must have recounted the struggle itself, and it is not improbable that this episode extended into the fifth tablet, since in the Assyrian version this is the case. The elaboration of the story is in itself an argument in favor of assuming some historical background for it—the recollection of the conquest of Amurru by some powerful warrior; and we have seen that this conquest must be ascribed to Enkidu and not to Gilgamesh.
If, now, Enkidu is not only the older figure but the one who is the real hero of the most notable episode in the Gilgamesh Epic; if, furthermore, Enkidu is the Hercules who kills lions and dispatches the bull sent by an enraged goddess, what becomes of Gilgamesh? What is left for him?
As already suggested, with Enkidu’s death after this conquest of the bull the original Enkidu Epic came to an end. In order to connect Gilgamesh with Enkidu, the former is represented as sharing in the struggle against the bull. Enkidu is punished with death, while Gilgamesh is smitten with disease. Since both shared equally in the guilt, the punishment should have been the same for both. The differentiation may be taken as an indication that Gilgamesh’s disease has nothing to do with the bull episode, but is merely part of the nature myth.
In the Epic the story leads to another episode attached to Gilgamesh, namely, the search for a magic plant growing in deep water, which has the power of restoring old age to youth. Utnapishtim, the survivor of the deluge, is moved through pity for Gilgamesh, worn out by his long wanderings. At the request of his wife, Utnapishtim decides to tell Gilgamesh of this plant, and he succeeds in finding it. He plucks it and decides to take it back to Erech so that all may enjoy the benefit, but on his way stops to bathe in a cool cistern. A serpent comes along and snatches the plant from him, and he is forced to return to Erech with his purpose unachieved. Man cannot hope, when old age comes on, to escape death as the end of everything.
Lastly, the twelfth tablet of the Assyrian version of the Gilgamesh Epic is of a purely didactic character, bearing evidence of having been added as a further illustration of the current belief that there is no escape from the nether world to which all must go after life has come to an end. Proper burial and suitable care of the dead represent all that can be done in order to secure a fairly comfortable rest for those who have passed out of this world. Enkidu is once more introduced into this episode. His shade is invoked by Gilgamesh and rises up out of the lower world to give a discouraging reply to Gilgamesh’s request,
“Tell me, my friend, tell me, my friend, The law of the earth which thou hast experienced, tell me,”
The mournful message comes back:
“I cannot tell thee, my friend, I cannot tell.”
Death is a mystery and must always remain such. The historical Gilgamesh has clearly no connection with the figure introduced into this twelfth tablet. Indeed, as already suggested, the Gilgamesh Epic must have ended with the return to Erech, as related at the close of the eleventh tablet. The twelfth tablet was added by some school-men of Babylonia (or perhaps of Assyria), purely for the purpose of conveying a summary of the teachings in regard to the fate of the dead. Whether these six episodes covering the sixth to the twelfth tablets, (1) the nature myth, (2) the killing of the divine bull, (3) the punishment of Gilgamesh and the death of Enkidu, (4) Gilgamesh’s wanderings, (5) the Deluge, (6) the search for immortality, were all included at the time that the old Babylonian version was compiled cannot, of course, be determined until we have that version in a more complete form. Since the two tablets thus far recovered show that as early as 2000 B.C. the Enkidu tale had already been amalgamated with the current stories about Gilgamesh, and the endeavor made to transfer the traits of the former to the latter, it is eminently likely that the story of Ishtar’s unhappy love adventure with Gilgamesh was included, as well as Gilgamesh’s punishment and the death of Enkidu. With the evidence furnished by Meissner’s fragment of a version of the old Babylonian revision and by our two tablets, of the early disposition to make popular tales the medium of illustrating current beliefs and the teachings of the temple schools, it may furthermore be concluded that the death of Enkidu and the punishment of Gilgamesh were utilized for didactic purposes in the old Babylonian version. On the other hand, the proof for the existence of the deluge story in the Hammurabi period and some centuries later, independent of any connection with the Gilgamesh Epic, raises the question whether in the old Babylonian version, of which our two tablets form a part, the deluge tale was already woven into the pattern of the Epic. At all events, till proof to the contrary is forthcoming, we may assume that the twelfth tablet of the Assyrian version, though also reverting to a Babylonian original, dates as the latest addition to the Epic from a period subsequent to 2000 B.C.; and that the same is probably the case with the eleventh tablet.
Furthermore, our investigation has shown that to Enkidu belongs the episode with the woman, used to illustrate the evolution of primitive man to the ways and conditions of civilized life, the conquest of Ḫuwawa in the land of Amurru, the killing of lions and also of the bull, while Gilgamesh is the hero who conquers Erech. Identified with the sun-god, the nature myth of the union of the sun with the earth and the subsequent separation of the two is also transferred to him. The wanderings of the hero, smitten with disease, are a continuation of the nature myth, symbolizing the waning vigor of the sun with the approach of the wintry season.
The details of the process which led to making Gilgamesh the favorite figure, to whom the traits and exploits of Enkidu and of the sun-god are transferred, escape us, but of the fact that Enkidu is the older figure, of whom certain adventures were set forth in a tale that once had an independent existence, there can now be little doubt in the face of the evidence furnished by the two tablets of the old Babylonian version; just as the study of these tablets shows that in the combination of the tales of Enkidu and Gilgamesh, the former is the prototype of which Gilgamesh is the copy. If the two are regarded as brothers, as born in the same place, even resembling one another in appearance and carrying out their adventures in common, it is because in the process of combination Gilgamesh becomes the reflex of Enkidu. That Enkidu is not the figure created by Aruru to relieve Erech of its tyrannical ruler is also shown by the fact that Gilgamesh remains in control of Erech. It is to Erech that he returns when he fails of his purpose to learn the secret of escape from old age and death. Erech is, therefore, not relieved of the presence of the ruthless ruler through Enkidu. The “Man of Anu” formed by Aruru as a deliverer is confused in the course of the growth of the Epic with Enkidu, the offspring of Ninib, and in this way we obtain the strange contradiction of Enkidu and Gilgamesh appearing first as bitter rivals and then as close and inseparable friends. It is of the nature of Epic compositions everywhere to eliminate unnecessary figures by concentrating on one favorite the traits belonging to another or to several others.
“And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by From that day to the ending of the world.”—(Act, IV, 3, 57–58.)
But after all, the parallels are of too general a character to be of much moment; and moreover the parallels stop short at the critical point, for Gilgamesh though worsted is not killed by Enkidu, whereas one of the “Heavenly Twins” is always killed by the brother, as Abel is by Cain, and Iphikles by his twin brother Herakles. Even the trait which is frequent in the earliest forms of the “Heavenly Twins,” according to which one is immortal and the other is mortal, though applying in a measure to Enkidu who is killed by Ishtar, while Gilgamesh the offspring of a divine pair is only smitten with disease, is too unsubstantial to warrant more than a general comparison between the Enkidu-Gilgamesh pair and the various forms of the “twin” motif found throughout the ancient world. For all that, the point is of some interest that in the Gilgamesh Epic we should encounter two figures who are portrayed as possessing the same traits and accomplishing feats in common, which suggest a partial parallel to the various forms in which the twin-motif appears in the mythologies, folk-lore and legends of many nations; and it may be that in some of these instances the duplication is due, as in the case of Enkidu and Gilgamesh, to an actual transfer of the traits of one figure to another who usurped his place.
In concluding this study of the two recently discovered tablets of the old Babylonian version of the Gilgamesh Epic which has brought us several steps further in the interpretation and in our understanding of the method of composition of the most notable literary production of ancient Babylonia, it will be proper to consider the literary relationship of the old Babylonian to the Assyrian version.
Beginning with the Pennsylvania tablet, column I is covered in the Assyrian version by tablet I, 5, 25, to 6, 33, though, as pointed out above, in the Assyrian version we have the anticipation of the dreams of Gilgamesh and their interpretation through their recital to Enkidu by his female companion, whereas in the old Babylonian version we have the dreams directly given in a conversation between Gilgamesh and his mother. In the anticipation, there would naturally be some omissions. So lines 4–5 and 12–13 of the Pennsylvania tablet do not appear in the Assyrian version, but in their place is a line (I, 5, 35), to be restored to
”[I saw him and like] a woman I fell in love with him.”
“I bore it and carried it to thee”
and appears in the Assyrian version (I, 5, 35b supplied from 6, 26)
with an additional line in elaboration
which anticipates the speech of the mother
(Line 41 = Assyrian version I, 6, 33).
Line 10 of the Pennsylvania tablet has pa-ḫi-ir as against iz-za-az I, 5, 31.
Line 8 has ik-ta-bi-it as against da-an in the Assyrian version I, 5, 29.
More significant is the variant to line 9
“I became weak and its weight I could not bear”
as against I, 5, 30.
Such variants as
dGish êribam ûl iddin (l. 217)
against
dGilgamesh ana šurûbi ûl namdin, (IV, 2, 47).
and again
iṣṣabtûma kima lîm “they grappled at the gate of the family house” (IV, 2, 48),
against
iṣṣabtûma ina bâb bît emuti, “they grappled at the gate of the family house” (IV, 2, 48),
“Whose roar is a flood, whose mouth is fire, and whose breath is death”
which occurs twice in the Yale tablet (lines 110–111 and 196–197), with the same phrase in the Assyrian version Tablet IV, 5, 3—but here, as just pointed out, with an elaboration.
Practically, therefore, the entire Yale tablet represents an addition to our knowledge of the Ḫuwawa episode, and until we are fortunate enough to discover more fragments of the fourth tablet of the Assyrian version, we must content ourselves with the conclusions reached from a comparison of the Pennsylvania tablet with the parallels in the Assyrian version.
It may be noted as a general point of resemblance in the exterior form of the old Babylonian and Assyrian versions that both were inscribed on tablets containing six columns, three on the obverse and three on the reverse; and that the length of the tablets—an average of 40 to 50 lines—was about the same, thus revealing in the external form a conventiona1 size for the tablets in the older period, which was carried over into later times.