Chapter II: Front Matter (2)

As Samas' car sank in the glowing west, And Sin the moon-god forth had come full drest For starry dance across the glistening skies, The sound of work for man on earth now dies, And all betake themselves to sweet repose. The silver light of Sin above bright flows, And floods the figures on the painted walls, O'er sculptured lions, softly, lightly falls; Like grim and silent watch-dogs at the door They stand; in marble check their leaping roar. The King within his chamber went his way, Upon his golden jewelled couch he lay. The silken scarlet canopy was hung In graceful drapery and loosely clung Around his couch, and purple damask cloths Embroidered with rare skill, preserved from moths By rich perfumes, to the carved lintel clung In graceful folds; thus o'er the entrance hung.

Queen Ishtar softly comes, and o'er his dreams A mystic spell she draws, until it seems While half awake he lies, that she is yet Close nestling in his arms, as he had met Her in the wood, and with her there reclined, While her soft arms around him were entwined. Thus while he sleeps she hovers o'er his bed With throbbing heart, and close inclines her head Until her lips near touch the sleeping King's, But daring not to kiss.

She love thus brings, All through his dreams; until one misty night, While he yet restless tossed, the lovely sprite Sunk him to deeper sleep with her soft lyre While hanging o'er his couch consumed with fire That nestling around her heart-strings fiercely burned Until at last lulled by the strain he turned Upon his couch at rest, and she now lay Beside him closely, when she heard him say: "My love thou art, but canst not be!" No more He murmurs, then inflamed she sought the door. "Perchance the _su-khu-li_[1] sleep not!" she said; And satisfied, turned where her lover laid; And to his royal couch she crept again; Her bliss will have despite of gods and men. Her hot and burning lips cannot resist The tempting treasure lying there, nor missed Shall be the dearest joys of love from her Who rules all hearts in Heaven, earth, and air. Her right divine that blessing sweet to take, She will assert, her burning thirst to slake.

His couch the Heavenly Queen of Love now graces, And on his breast her glorious head she places; Embracing him, she softly through her lips And his, the sweetest earthly nectar sips, While he in sleep lies murmuring of love, And she in blissful ecstasy doth move. Her lips to his, she wildly places there, Until to him it seems a fond nightmare.

And thus, against his will, she fondly takes What he her shall deny when he awakes, The stolen kisses both the lovers thrill: Unquenched her warm desire would kiss him still, But his hot blood now warms him in his dream Which is much more to him than it doth seem; And clasping her within convulsing arms, Receives a thrill that all his nerves alarms, And wakes him from the dreams she had instilled. "What means this fantasy that hath me filled, And spirit form that o'er my pillow leans; I wonder what this fragrant incense means? Oh, tush! 'tis but an idle, wildering dream, But how delightful, joyous it did seem! Her beauteous form it had, its breath perfume; Do spirit forms such loveliness assume?"

The goddess yet dares not her form reveal, And quickly she herself doth now conceal Behind the damask curtains at the door. When he awoke, sprang to the chamber floor, As his own maid the queen herself transforms, Says entering in haste:

"What wild alarms Thee, Sar?" and then demure awaits reply, In doubt to hear or to his bosom fly. "My maid art thou? 'Tis well, for I have dreamed Of spirits, as a Zi-ru fair it seemed."

[Footnote 1: "Su-khu-li," guards of the palace.]

COLUMN II

THE KING'S SECOND DREAM AND EARLY RIDE UPON SUMIR'S PLAIN, AND HAND-TO-HAND CONFLICT ON THE BANKS OF THE EUPHRATES

The night is fleeing from the light of dawn, Which dimly falls upon the palace lawn; The King upon his royal _dum-khi_[1] sleeps, And to his couch again Queen Ishtar creeps. In spite his dream to dismal thoughts she turns, Her victim tosses, now with fever burns: He wildly starts, and from his _dum-khi_ springs, While loud his voice throughout the palace rings: "Ho! vassals! haste to me! your King!" he cries, And stamping fiercely while his passions rise. The _sukhu-li_[2] and _masari_[3] rush in: "What trouble, Sar? have foes here come within?" Then searching around they in his chamber rush, And eagerly aside the curtains push. The King yet paces on the floor with strides That show the trouble of his mind, and chides Them all as laggards; "Soon the sun will rise: My steed prepared bring hence!" he turning cries. He mounts and gallops through the swinging gates, Nor for attendance of his vassals waits. Nor turns his face toward the _nam-za-khi_,[4] Who quickly opened for the King to fly Without the gates; across the plains he rides Away unmindful where his steed he guides. The horse's hoofs resound upon the plain As the lone horseman with bewildered brain, To leave behind the phantoms of the night, Rides fiercely through the early morning light, Beyond the orange orchards, citron groves, 'Mid feathery date-palms he reckless roves. The fields of yellow grain mid fig-trees flash Unseen, and prickly pears, pomegranates, dash In quick succession by, till the white foam From his steed's mouth and quiv'ring flanks doth come; Nor heeds the whitened flowing mane, but flies, While clouds of dust him follow, and arise Behind him o'er the road like black storm clouds, While Zu[5] the storm-bird onward fiercely goads The seven[6] raven spirits of the air, And Nus-ku[7] opens wide the fiery glare Of pent-up lightnings for fierce Gibil's[8] hand, Who hurls them forth at Nergal's[9] stern command, And Rimmon[10] rides triumphant on the air, And Ninazu[11] for victims doth prepare, The King rides from the road into the wild, Nor thought of danger, his stern features smiled As the worn steed from a huge lion shied, Which turning glanced at them and sprang aside; Now Zi-pis-au-ni[12] fly before the King. And yellow leopards through the rushes spring. Upon Euphrates' banks his steed he reins, And views the rosy wilds of Sumir's plains.

He looked toward the east across the plain That stretched afar o'er brake and marshy fen, And clustering trees that marked the Tigris' course; And now beyond the plain o'er fields and moors, The mountain range of Zu[13] o'er Susa's land. Is glowing 'neath the touch of Samas' hand; For his bright face is rising in the east, And shifting clouds from sea and rising mist, The robes of purple, violet and gold, With rosy tints the form of Samas fold. The tamarisk and scarlet mistletoe, With green acacias' golden summits glow, And citron, olives, myrtle, climbing vine, Arbutus, cypress, plane-tree rise divine; The emerald verdure, clad with brilliant hues, With rose-tree forests quaffs the morning dews. The King delighted bares his troubled brow, In Samas' golden rays doth holy bow. But see! a shadow steals along the ground! And trampling footsteps through the copses sound, And Izdubar, his hand placed on his sword, Loud cries: "Who cometh o'er mine Erech's sward?" An armèd warrior before him springs; The King, dismounted, his bright weapon swings. "'Tis I, Prince Dib-bara,[14] Lord Izdubar, And now at last alone we meet in war; My soldiers you o'erthrew upon the field, But here to Nuk-khu's[15] son thine arm shall yield!" The monarch eyes the warrior evil-born, And thus replies to him with bitter scorn: "And dost thou think that Samas' son shall die By a vile foe who from my host did fly? Or canst thou hope that sons of darkness may The Heaven-born of Light and glory slay? As well mayst hope to quench the god of fire, But thou shalt die if death from me desire." The giant forms a moment fiercely glared, And carefully advanced with weapons bared, Which flash in the bright rays like blades of fire, And now in parry meet with blazing ire. Each firmly stood and rained their ringing blows, And caught each stroke upon their blades, till glows The forest round with sparks of fire that flew Like blazing meteors from their weapons true; And towering in their rage they cautious sprung Upon each, foiled, while the deep Suk-ha[16] rung. At last the monarch struck a mighty blow, His foeman's shield of gold, his blade cleft through; And as the lightning swung again his sword, And struck the chieftain's blade upon the sward, A Sedu springs from out the tangled copse, And at his feet the sword still ringing drops. The King his sword placed at his foeman's throat And shouted:

"Hal-ca[17] to yon waiting boat! Or I will send thy body down this stream! _Ca is-kab-bu! va kal-bu!_[18] whence you came!" The chief disarmed now slunk away surprised, And o'er the strength of Sar-dan-nu[19] surmised. The King returns, and rides within the gate Of Erech, and the council entered late.

[Footnote 1: "Dum-khi," couch.]

[Footnote 2: "Su-khu-li rabi," attendants of the King.]

[Footnote 3: "Masari," guards of the palace.]

[Footnote 4: "Nam-za-ki," openers of the gates.]

[Footnote 5: "Zu," the divine bird of the storm-cloud, the god worshipped by Izdubar, the god who stole the tablets of heaven.]

[Footnote 6: The seven wicked spirits in the form of men with faces of ravens.]

[Footnote 7: "Nus-ku," the gate-keeper of thunder.]

[Footnote 8: "Gibil," the god of fire and spells and witchcraft.]

[Footnote 9: "Ner-gal," director of the storms, the giant King of War, the strong begetter.]

[Footnote 10: "Rimmon," the god of storms and hurricanes.]

[Footnote 11: "Nin-a-zu," the goddess of fate and death.]

[Footnote 12: "Zi-pis-au-ni," spirits of the papyri, or reeds.]

[Footnote 13: Mountain range of Zu. The ancient name is unknown, but as Susa takes its name from Zu, the divine bird of the storm-cloud, we have given the mountains of Susiana their probable ancient name.]

[Footnote 14: "Dib-bara" ("the darkening one"), the son of Nuk-khu. He is supposed to have been the viceroy of Khumbaba, and led the attack upon Erech.]

[Footnote 15: "Nuk-hu," or "Nuk-khu," the god of darkness and sleep. He is sometimes called "Cus-u."]

[Footnote 16: "Suk-ha," wood or grove, or a forest.]

[Footnote 17: "Hal-ca!" "Go!"]

[Footnote 18: "Ca is-kab-bu! va kal-bu!" "Thou fool and dog!" "Ca" ("thou") is the short form of "cat-ta" or "ca'a"; generally it appears as "at-ta."]

[Footnote 19: "Sar-dan-nu," the great King.]

COLUMN III

IZDUBAR RELATES HIS SECOND DREAM TO HIS SEERS, WHO CANNOT INTERPRET IT

The counsellors assembled round the throne Within the council halls of _zam-at_[1] stone, Now greet their monarch, and behold his face With trouble written on his brow, and trace Uneasiness within that eagle eye, While he with stately tread, yet wearily His throne approached; he turned to the mu-di,[2] And swept a glance upon his khas-iz-i.[3] Uneasy they all eyed his troubled face, For he had ridden at a furious pace. The _abuli_[4] had told them on that morn, How he across the plains had wildly torn To drive away some vision of the night. One asked, "Hath our Sardan-nu's dreams been light? Or hath dread phantoms o'er thy pillow hung? For trouble on thy countenance hath clung." The monarch startled at the question eyes The councillor, and to him thus replies: "'Tis true, my counsellors and wisest men, I dreamed a fearful dream Sat mu-si;[5] when I have disclosed it, if one clear reveals Its meaning all and naught from me conceals, On him will I the greatest wealth bestow: I will ennoble him, and the _sib-zu_[6] A _ku-bar-ra_[7] for him shall rich prepare; As my _tur-tan-u_[8] he shall be, and seer, Decked with a golden chain shall next preside At every feast, and break his bread beside The King, and highest rank he shall attain 'Mong counsellors, and mine own favor gain; And seven wives to him I will allow, And a grand palace. This as King I vow, The scribe it shall enroll above my seal As Erech's Sar's decree beyond repeal.

"I dreamed upon my _dum-khi_[9] fast asleep, The stars from heaven fell from yonder deep To earth; and one, with fierceful heat my back Did pierce as molten fire, and left its track Of flames like some huge ball along my spine; And then transformed, it turned its face to mine; As some fierce god it glowed before my sight Till agony was lost in dread affright. I rooted stood, in terror, for its face Was horrible; I saw in its feet's place A lion's claws. It sprang, my strength it broke, And slew me, gloating over me! Awoke, I sprang, methought I was a corpse _ka-ra Va tal-ka mat sar, talka bu-la sha Ra-pas-ti sat-ti, ar-id-da! ka-rat Va hal-li-ka! lik-ru-bu ki-mi-ta!_[10]" The seers in silence stand, perplexed and think; But from the task at once the wisest shrink.

The King each face soon read:

"Ye tell me no?" And nodding all, concealed from him their woe, For they beheld within the dream some fate Impending o'er him born of godly hate, And durst not to their monarch prate their fears, For flatterers of kings are all his seers. The King impatient eyed them all with scorn, And hid his thoughts by wildest passions born; And then at last contemptuous to them said, "So all my seers of trouble are afraid? Or else in ignorance you turn away; 'Tis well! I sorely need a seer this day." And they now prostrate fall before his throne, "Forgive thy seers!" one cries, "O mighty One! For we this dreadful dream do fear portends Thy harm! a god some message to thee sends! We know not what, but fear for thee, our Sar, And none but one can augur it; afar He lives, Heabani should before the King Be brought from Za-Ga-bri[11] the _na-bu_[12] bring!" "'Tis well! Prince Zaidu for the hermit send, And soon this mystery your Sar will end." The King distressed now to the temple goes To lay before the mighty gods his woes; This prayer recites to drive away bad dreams, While Samas' holy altar brightly gleams: [13] "O Samas! may my prayer bring me sweet rest, And may my Lord his favor grant to me: Annihilate the things that me invest! This day, O God! distressed, I cry to thee! O goddess! be thou gracious unto me, Receive my prayer, my sins forgive I pray: My wickedness and will arrayed 'gainst thee. Oh, pardon me! O God, be kind this day, My groaning may the seven winds destroy, Clothe me with deep humility! receive My prayers, as wingèd birds, oh, may they fly And fishes carry them, and rivers weave Them in the waters on to thee, O God! As creeping things of the vast desert, cry I unto thee outstretched on Erech's sod; And from the river's lowest depths I pray; My heart cause thou to shine like polished gold, Though food and drink of Nin-a-zu[14] this day Be mine, while worms and death thy servant fold. Oh, from thine altar me support, protect, In low humility I pray, forgive! Feed me with joy, my dreams with grace direct; The dream I dreamed, oh favorable give To me its omen filled with happiness! May Mak-hir,[15] god of dreams, my couch invest! With visions of Bit-sag-gal my heart bless, The temple of the gods, of Nin, with rest Unbroken, and to Merodach I pray! The favoring one, to prosper me and mine: [16]Oh, may thy entering exalted be! And thy divinity with glory shine, And may our city shine with glowing meads, And all my people praise thy glorious deeds." Now to Euphrates' banks the Sar and seers Their footsteps turn to pray into the ears Of Hea,[17] where, in white, a band of priests Drawn in a crescent, Izdubar invests. Now at the water's edge he leans, his hands Dips in the waves, and pours upon the sands The sparkling drops, while all a hymn descant To Hea, thus the incantation chant:

"O chant our incantation to the waters pure,
Euphrates' waters flowing to the sea!
Where Hea's holy face shines bright on every shore,
O Sabit[18] of Timatu[19] to ye
We pray! may your bright waters glowing shine
As Hea's face, and heaving breast divine!

"O Sabit, to your father Hea take our prayer!
And may Dao-ki-na,[20] your bright mother, hear!
With joy, oh shine, as peaceful as the sleeping light,
O ever may your throbbing waves be bright.
O spirit of the Heaven, hear!
Remember us, Remember!
O spirit of the earth, come near!
Remember us, Remember!
O hear us, Hea! hear us, dear Dao-ki-na!
_Ca-ca-ma u ca-ca-ma u ca-ca-ma!_"[21]

[Footnote 1: "Zam-at" stone, diamond, crystal or lapis lazuli.]

[Footnote 2: "Mu-di," seers.]

[Footnote 3: "Khas-i-zi," counsellors.]

[Footnote 4: "Ab-u-li," guard of the great gates of the city.]

[Footnote 5: "Sat mu-si," in the night-time, or last night.]

[Footnote 6: "Sib-zu," embroiderer.]

[Footnote 7: "Ku-bar-ra," robe of a prince.]

[Footnote 8: "Tur-tan-u," next in rank to the King.]

[Footnote 9: "Dum-khi" or "dun-khi," couch.]

[Footnote 10: "Ka-ra! va," etc., "Speak out! and if thou augurest the death of the King, or if thou augurest life of extended years, I have spoken! Speak out! and cast the lots! may they be propitious with us!"]

[Footnote 11: "Za-Ga-bri," the mountains of Zu, "Ga-bri" ("mountains"), and "Za," another form of "zu," the divine bird of the storm-cloud. They were at one time called the mountains of Susa, now the Kurdistan range of mountains. The name we have given we believe to be the probable ancient one.]

[Footnote 12: "Na-bu," prophet, seer.]

[Footnote 13: We have here quoted a prayer after a bad dream, the text of which is lithographed in "C.I.W.A.," vol. iv. 66, 2, and is supposed to be an ancient Accadian prayer. See "Records of the Past," vol. ix. p. 151.]

[Footnote 14: "Nin-a-zu," the goddess of darkness and death.]

[Footnote 15: "Mak-hir," the daughter of the sun, and goddess of dreams.]

[Footnote 16: Literally, "he that shows favor." The above prayer was translated for the first time by Rev. A.H. Sayce, M.A., in the "Records of the Past," vol. ix. p. 151. We have followed as literally as possible the original, and have given it its probable place in the epic.]

[Footnote 17: Hea, god of the ocean, the earth's surface, brightness, etc., and chief protector of men.]

[Footnote 18: "Sab-it," or "Sabitu" ("seven"), the seven winds, gods of the abyss or ocean.]

[Footnote 19: "Tiamatu," the abyss or ocean.]

[Footnote 20: "Dao-ki-na" or "Dao-ci-na," the wife of Hea, and goddess of the ocean.]

[Footnote 21: "Amen and Amen and Amen!" The Assyrian word is "Amanu." The original "ca-ca-ma" ("Amen") concludes the incantation; Heb. [Hebrew: amen] See "C.I.W.A.," vol. iv. pl. 14; also "Records of the Past," vol. xi. p. 135.]

COLUMN IV

HEABANI, THE HERMIT SEER

Before a cave within the Gab-ri[1] wild, A seer is resting on a rock; exiled By his own will from all the haunts of men, Beside a pool within a rocky glen He sits; a turban rests upon his brow, And meets the lengthened beard of whitest snow. This morn an omen comes before his eyes, And him disturbs with a wild eagle's cries That fierce attacks a fox before his cave; For he of beasts is the most cunning knave; In wait upon the ground the fox hath lain To lure the bird, which flying deems him slain. He fiercely seizes it, as swooping down, The bird with its sly quarry would have flown; But the _a-si_[2] quick seized it by the throat, While the wide wings with frantic fury smote The beast, and the sharp talons deeply tore Its foe--both greedy for the other's gore.

And lo! a voice from yonder sky resounds; Heabani to his feet now quickly bounds, And bowing, listens to the voice that comes In gentleness; upon the winds it roams From yon blue heights like sighing of the trees; The seer in reverence upon his knees Now holy bares his head in Samas' rays, While the soft voice to him thus gently says: "A messenger, Heabani, soon shall come With offers rich, to leave thy lonely home. This eagle sought its food and found a snare, The messenger will come from Izdubar, To learn from thee the meaning of his dream Which goddess Ishtar sent,--a snare for him. Then to the messenger prove not a snare, As yonder _a-si_ doth the eagle tear."

The seer in fury tore his beard of snow And cried--

"Alas! my days shall end in woe Within these wilds my happiness is mine, No other joys I seek, my god divine; I would upon these rocks lie down to die, Upon my back here sleep eternally." And Samas urging, to him thus replied: "Heabani, hast thou not some manly pride? And thinkest thou no joy thou here wilt lose? The lovely Sam-kha-tu[3] the seer may choose. Arrayed in trappings of divinity And the insignia of royalty, Heabani then in Erech shall be great, And live in happiness and royal state; And Izdubar shall hearken, and incline His heart in warmest friendship, and recline With thee upon a couch of luxury. And seat thee on a throne of royalty, On his left hand, a crown shall grace thy brow. Kings of the earth shall to thee subject bow And kiss thy feet, and Izdubar shall give Thee wealth, and thou in luxury shalt live. In silence Erech's men shall bow to thee, In royal raiment thou shalt happy be." Heabani listened to the words that came From Samas, and his brow was lit with shame To hear the god of war urge him to go To earthly happiness--mayhap to woe; But he within his cave now listless turns When Samas ceased; then to his rock returns, And seats himself with calmness on his brow; His thoughts in happy memories now flow, And he recalls the blissful days of yore When he as seer lived on Euphrates' shore, As the queen's bard oft tuned a festive lay, While soft-eyed maidens dance and cymbals play.

[Footnote 1: "Gab-ri," mountains.]

[Footnote 2: "A-si," fox.]

[Footnote 3: "Sam-kha-tu" ("Joy"), one of the maids of Ishtar.]

COLUMN V

EXPEDITION OF ZAIDU IN SEARCH OF THE SEER

Prince Zaidu on his steed now hastes away, Upon the plains he travelled all that day; Next morn the Za-Gabri he slow ascends, Along the mountain sides the horseman wends Beneath the Eri-ni,[1] and cliffs, and sees The plains and mountains o'er the misty trees From the wild summit, and old Khar-sak glow Above them all with its twin crests of snow. He plunges in the wild to seek the cave; Three days unceasing sought young Zaidu brave, And now at last within the glen he rode, And near approached Heabani's wild abode. At last he sees the seer before his home, And with his monster[2] now toward him come, That walked subdued beside the hermit seer, Thus they upon the rocks above appear.

"Why art thou here in warrior's array?" The hermit cries. "I know thee not! away!"

"O holy seer, 'tis Zaidu, from our Sar! The king of Erech, chieftain Izdubar."

"What seekest thou within my mountain lair?" Heabani angry cried. "What brings thee here?"

"For thee! if true Heabani is thy name; I seek the hermit seer of wondrous fame. My king doth offer thee rich gifts of state, And sent me to thee here to make thee great." "No empty honors do I seek, which void Of all true happiness, all men have cloyed. Return then to thy haunts of pleasure, pain, For thy king's embassy is all in vain." The seer returns within his lonely cave And leaves the prince alone the beast to brave. At last it slinks away within the gloom; No more from their wild home doth either come, Three days Prince Zaidu watches the dark lair, But now his courage turns to blank despair: The seer hath changed his mind since Samas sought To urge him forth to leave his lonely lot. The prince the mountain precipice now climbs, And peers within while clinging to the limbs Of stunted oaks, and views the mountain lair; But all in vain his calls ring on the air. Then mounting wearily his steed he turns Away, and unsuccessful thus returns.

[Footnote 1: "Eri-ni," cedar-trees.]

[Footnote 2: A carnivorous animal supposed to have been either a lion or a tiger, more probably a lion.]

COLUMN VI

HEABANI RESOLVES TO RETURN TO ERECH

As Zaidu sadly turns and rides away, The hermit from his cave comes forth to pray: "Alas! hath all these wilds their charms here lost? And is my breast with wild ambition tost? My lonely cot I look upon with shame; Again I long to seek the fields of fame, Where luxury my remaining years May crown, and happiness may find--or tears; 'Tis true! I should have welcomed the _bar-ru;_[1] But he hath since returned to Subartu."[2] His harp he took from its dust-covered case, And kissed its carved and well-remembered face; And tuning it, he glanced toward the wood, And sang his farewell ode to solitude:

Farewell, ye mountains, woods and trees--
My heart doth long again for joy;
I love your wilds and mossy leas,
But oh, your solitude doth cloy!

I love to see the _bur-khi-is_[3]
Sweep stately o'er the mossy rocks;
And _tsabi_[4] in a wild like this,
Hear the tattoo of red woodchucks.

I love the cries of _lig-bar-ri_[5]
The _nes-i_[6] calling for their prey;
And leaping of the _na-a-li_[7]
That fly in wildest fear away.

I love the _bu-hir-tser-i_[8] all,
_Khar-sa-a-nii sa-qu-u-tu;_[9]
Hear _cu-uts-tsi_[10] with thunder roll
Across the skies within my view.

I love to see the _ca-ca-bi_[11]
Peep through the pine-trees o'er my home,
And watch the wild _tu-ra-a-khi_[12]
And _arme_[13] welcome, to me come.

Farewell! ye solitudes, farewell!
I will not moulder rotting lie
With no one's lips to wish me well;
O give me immortality!

But what is fame? A bubble blown
Upon the breeze, that bursts its shell,
And all our brightest hopes are flown,
And leaves our solitude a hell.

The holy minstrel bows his head in woe, And sweeps the harpstrings with a movement slow; Then lifts his eyes toward the setting sun, His evening invocation thus begun:

[14]O Samas! to the lifting of my hands
Show favor! unto me thy servant turn!
What man before thy blessèd Light withstands?
O thou! what mortal thine own words can learn?
And who can rival them inviolate?
[15]Among the gods no equal thou hast found.
In Heaven who of all the gods is great?
O thou alone! art great through Heaven's bound!

On earth what man is great? alas! no one,
For thou alone art great! through earth's vast bounds.
When wide thy awful voice in Heaven resounds,
The gods fall prostrate to our Holy One;
When on the earth thy voice afar resounds,
The genii[16] bow to thee and kiss the dust.
In thee, O Samas! do I put my trust,
For thy great love and mercy wide abounds!

O my Creator, God, thy watchfulness
O'er me, oh may it never cease!
Keep thou the opening of my lips! the fleece
Of purest snow be my soul's daily dress.
Guard thou my hands! O Samas, Lord of Light!
And ever keep my life and heart aright!

[Footnote 1: "Bar-ru," an army officer]

[Footnote 2: "Su-bar-tu," Syria]

[Footnote 3: "Bur-khi-is," antelopes]

[Footnote 4: "Tsabi," gazelles]

[Footnote 5: "Lig-bar-ri," hyenas]

[Footnote 6: "Nes-i," lions]

[Footnote 7: "Na-a-li," spotted stags]

[Footnote 8: "Bu-hir-tser-i," beasts of the field]

[Footnote 9: "Khar-sa-a-nu sa-qu-u-tu," forests thick]

[Footnote 10: "Cu-uts-tsi," storms.]

[Footnote 11: "Ca-ca-bi," stars.]

[Footnote 12: "Tu-ra-a-khi," deer.]

[Footnote 13: "Arme," wild goats.]

[Footnote 14: This prayer is made up from Assyrian fragments now in the British Museum.]

[Footnote 15: See "Records of the Past," vol. iii. p. 136.]

[Footnote 16: "Genii," spirits.]

TABLET III--COLUMN I

HEABANI'S WISDOM--SONG OF THE KHAU-IK-I

The dark-eyed maids are dancing in the halls Of Erech's palace: music fills the walls Of splendor where the Sar-dan-nu[1] enthroned, His hours is whiling by the maidens zoned; A whirling garland chanting forth a song. Accompanied with harps thus sang the throng:

"Heabani's wisdom chant and sing
To Erech's king our mighty Sar.[2]
When Hea did Heabani bring,
Who now to Erech comes afar,
He taught him then all hidden things
Of Ki[3] or bright Samu[4] above,
That to the Mu-di[5] mystery brings.
Oh, how Heabani we shall love!"

_Chorus_

"Then sing with joy ye Khau-ik-i![6]
The Khau-ga[7] chant with waving arms,
The Nin-uit[8] sing Au-un-na-ci[9]
Give to our Sar your sweetest charms.

"All knowledge that is visible
Heabani holds it in his glance,
Sees visions inconceivable,
The Zi[10] his wizard eyes entrance.
Sweet peace he brings from troubled dreams,
He comes to El-li-tar-du-si,[11]
From a far road by mountain streams;
Then sing with joy ye Khau-ik-i!

_Chorus_

"Then sing with joy ye Khau-ik-i!
The Khau-ga chant with waving arms,
The Nin-uit sing An-un-na-ci!
Give to our Sar your sweetest charms.

"E'en all that on the tablet rests,
In Erech's tower, the Su-bu-ri,[12]
The beautiful, with glorious crests,
He wrote for far posterity.
We plead with him to leave us not,
But Zi-Gab-ri[13] him led away,
When our great Shal-man[14] joy us brought,
And Elam fled to the blue sea.

_Chorus_

"Then sing with joy ye Khau-ik-i!
Il-gi-sa-kis-sat[15] from above,
The Nin-uit sing An-un-na-ci!
Oh, how Heabani we shall love!"

The maidens note their monarch's moody face, And turn their songs to him with easy grace, Of their great ruler tune a joyous lay, And oft into his eyes hurl glances gay; And trumpets join the chorus, rolling drums, And wild applause from all the chieftains comes, Till the grave seers and councillors now cry In praise of him they love so tenderly: With arms upraised the mighty chorus join, Until his heart is filled with joy divine; And thus they sing with more than royal praise, Their love for him in every face doth blaze.

[Footnote 1: "Sar-dan-nu," the great King.]

[Footnote 2: "Sar," king.]

[Footnote 3: "Ki," earth.]

[Footnote 4: "Samu," heaven.]

[Footnote 5: "Mu-di," seers or wise men.]

[Footnote 6: "Khau-ik-i," the choral band.]

[Footnote 7: "Khau-ga," chorus.]

[Footnote 8: "Nin-uit," song.]

[Footnote 9: "An-un-na-ci," spirits of the earth.]

[Footnote 10: "Zi," spirits of the earth, air, water, etc.]

[Footnote 11: "El-li-tar-du-si," one of the temples of Erech.]

[Footnote 12: "Su-bu-ri," the lofty.]

[Footnote 13: "Zi-Gab-ri," spirits of the mountains.]

[Footnote 14: "Shal-man," deliverer.]

[Footnote 15: "Il-gi-sa-kis-sat," spirits of the hosts.]

COLUMN II

SONGS IN PRAISE OF IZDUBAR AND HEABANI AS SUNG BY THE KHAU-IK-I

Our Izdubar dear Erech raised
From her distress, when she did mourn;
With joy his glorious name be praised!
Of a great warrior's daughter born,
And Bel in his own might, him arms,
To Erech's sons and daughters save;
What other Sar hath glorious charms
Like his, who saved proud Elam's slave?

_Chorus_

No rival hath our mighty Sar,
Thy cymbals strike and raise the cry!
All hail! All hail! great Izdubar!
His deeds immortal glorify!

Our Izdubar our sons preserves
To all our fathers day and night,
And Erech's ruler well deserves
Our highest praise, whose matchless might
Delights the gods! All hail our Sar!
Whose firmness, wisdom need no praise!
Queen Daunat's son, our Izdubar,
His glory to the Sami[1] raise!

_Chorus_

Of a great warrior's daughter born,
The gods clothe him with matchless might;
His glory greets the coming morn,
Oh, how in him we all delight!

And thus of Seer Heabani they now chant His birth and history and hyemal haunt.

Who can compare with thee, O Nin![2]
The son of Bel; thy hands didst lay
Upon Ar-ur-u, thine own queen,
With glory crowned her on that day.

To her thy strength did give, and blessed
Her with thy love and a dear son;
With Ami's strength within his breast,
And Ninip sped then to his throne.

When Queen Ar-u-ru hears her lord
From Erech's city far has gone,
She bows her head upon the sward,
With pleading hands in woe doth moan.

And to Heabani she gave birth,
The warrior, great Ninip's son,
Whose fame is spread through all the earth.
The queen with her own maids alone
Retired within her palace walls
For purity in Erech's halls.

Like the corn-god his face concealed,
Of men and countries he possessed,
Great wisdom by the gods revealed:
As Ner[3] the god, his limbs were dressed.
With wild gazelles he ate his food
While roaming with them in the night;
For days he wandered in the wood,
And bu-hir-tser-i[4] him delight.

The Zi-ar-ri[5] Heabani loves,
That play within the running streams;
With Zi-ti-am-a-ti[6] he roves
Upon the sands in warm sunbeams.

"The prince returns, O Sar!" the herald said, And low before the throne he bowed his head; "Our Zaidu, the bewitcher of all men, Doth unsuccessful to us come again. Before the cave the seer confronted him Three days where Khar-sak's snowy brow doth gleam. Heabani with his beast in his cave went, And Zaidu waited, but his courage spent When he beheld the seer and beast remain Within the cave, and all his words were vain. The prince remains without with downcast face, And beg of thee, his Sar, thy sovereign grace." The king to all the maidens waves his hand, Then vanishes from sight the choral band.

[Footnote 1: "Sami," heavens.]

[Footnote 2: "Nin" or "Nin-ip," the god of the chase and war.]

[Footnote 3: "Ner" or "Nergal," the giant king of war, the strong begetter.]

[Footnote 4: "Bu-hir-tser-i," beasts of the field.]

[Footnote 5: "Zi-ar-ri," spirits of the rivers, water-nymphs.]

[Footnote 6: "Zi-ti-am-a-ti," spirits of the sea, naiads or water-nymphs.]

COLUMN III

ZAIDU'S RETURN, AND HIS INSTRUCTION TO TAKE TWO MAIDS WITH HIM TO ENTICE THE SEER FROM HIS CAVE

Prince Zaidu prostrate bows before the Sar, Arises, thus narrates to Izdubar: "Thy sovereign, Zaidu hath his king obeyed, The royal mission I have thus essayed As Amu's[1] soldier; I undaunted tried To urge my mission which the seer denied. I firmly met the beast that with him came: Unmanly fear, confess I to my shame, Came o'er me when I first beheld the beast, In vain I plead, and in despair I ceased When he refused, and angry from me passed Within his cave, where cliffs and rocks are massed; I climbed, but the wild entrance did not gain, And for advice have I returned again."

"'Tis well, my son," the Sar to Zaidu said, "Thy wisdom I commend for thy young head, Again upon thy mission thou must go. His might, and strength of purpose, thou dost know, Before a maiden's charms will flee away; For he doth love the Zi-Ga-bri[2] that play Within the mountain gorges. Turn thy face Again with manly portance; for I'll grace Thine embassy with two of our sweet maids, Who oft shall cheer thee through the mountain glades, Whom thou shalt lead before Heabani's den With their bright charms exposed within the glen. Take Sam-kha-tu and sweet Khar-imatu: They will entice the seer when he shall view Their charms displayed before his wondering eyes. With Sam-kha, Joy, the seer you will surprise; Khar-im-tu will thy plans successful end, To her seductive glance his pride will bend. Sweet Sam-kha's charms are known, she is our Joy, As Ishtar's aid her charms ne'er cloy; Kharun-tu with her perfect face and form, The hearts of all our court doth take by storm: When joys by our sweet Sam-kha are distilled, Kharun-tu's love overcomes us till we yield. Thus, armed with Love's Seduction and her Joy, The greatest powers of earth thou dost employ; No flesh can face them but a heart of stone. And all the world doth lie before them prone."

Three days Prince Zaidu sat with Kharun-tu Before the cave within Heabani's view; Beside the pool they waited for the seer: From Erech three days' journey brought them here, But where hath Joy, sweet Sam-kha, roving gone? When they arrived at setting of the sun She disappeared within with waving arms; With bright locks flowing she displayed her charms. As some sweet _zir-ru_ did young Sam-kha seem, A thing of beauty of some mystic dream.

[Footnote 1: "Anu," the King of Heaven.]

[Footnote 2: "Zi-Gab-ri," spirits of the mountains.]

COLUMN IV

THE TWO MAIDENS ENTICE THE SEER

Thus in Heabani's cave the maiden went, And o'er the sleeping seer her form she bent; O'er him who with gazelles oft eats his food; O'er him who drinks with _bhu-ri_[1] in the wood; O'er him who loves the _zir-ri,_--of them dreams, And sports with them within the mountain streams. And when the gay enticer saw the seer Unconscious sleeping with sweet Joy so near, She clasped him to her breast and kissed his brow. The seer awakes, with wonder eyes her now: "Thy glory thou hast brought to me!" he saith, "Sweet Zir-ru comes to me with fragrant breath!" And with delight he eyes her beauteous form, His breast warm moved by the enticer's charm. He springs upon his feet and her pursues: She laughing flees; to sport with him doth choose.

And now he eyes his hairy body, arms Compared to Sam-kha's snowy god-like charms, She give to him her freshness, blooming youth? She laughing comes again to him,--Forsooth! Her glorious arms she opens, flees away, While he doth follow the enticer gay. He seizes, kisses, takes away her breath, And she falls to the ground--perhaps in death He thinks, and o'er her leans where she now lay; At last she breathes, and springs, and flees away. But he the sport enjoys, and her pursues; But glancing back his arms she doth refuse. And thus three days and four of nights she played; For of Heabani's love she was afraid. Her joyous company doth him inspire For Sam-kha, joy, and love, and wild desire. He was not satisfied unless her form Remained before him with her endless charm. But when his _bhu-ri_ of the field the sight Beheld, the wild gazelles fled in affright. And now without the cave they came in view Of Zaidu waiting with sweet Kharim-tu,

And when Heabani saw the rounded form Of bright Kharim-tu, her voluptuous charm Drew him to her, and at her feet he sate With wistful face, resigned to any fate. Kharim-tu, smiling sweetly, bent her head, Enticing him the tempter coyly said, "Heabani, like a famous god thou art, Why with these creeping things doth sleep thy heart? Come thou with me to Erech Su-bu-ri[2] To Anu's temple Elli-tar-du-si, And Ishtar's city where great Izdubar Doth reign, the glorious giant king of war; Whose mighty strength above his chiefs doth tower, Come see our giant king of matchless power." Her flashing eyes half languid pierce the seer, Until his first resolves all disappear. And rising to his feet his eyes he turned Toward sweet Joy,[3] whose love for him yet burned; And eyeing both with beaming face he saith, "With Sam-kha's love the seer hath pledged his faith; And I will go to Elli-tar-du-si, Great Anu's seat and Ishtar's where with thee, I will behold the giant Izdubar, Whose fame is known to me as king of war; And I will meet him there, and test the power Of him whose fame above all men doth tower. A _mid-dan-nu_[4] to Erech I will take, To see if he its mighty strength can break. In these wild caves its strength has mighty grown; If he the beast destroys, I will make known His dream to him--e'en all the seer doth know; And now with thee to Erech I will go.

[Footnote 1: "Bhu-ri," wild-beasts, pets of the hermit seer.]

[Footnote 2: "Su-bu-ri," the lofty.]

[Footnote 3: "Sam-kha-tu" or "Samkha."]

[Transcriber's Note: Footnote 3 looks like it should be two lines down from where it is; this is probably an error.]

[Footnote 4: "Mid-dan-nu," a carnivorous animal, supposed to be a tiger; the Khorsabad sculpture, however, portrays it as a lion.]

COLUMN V

FESTIVAL IN HONOR OF HEABANI, WHO ARRIVES AT ERECH--INTERPRETATION OF THE DREAM

The sounds of wild rejoicing now arise; "Heabani comes!" resound the joyful cries, And through the gates of Erech Suburi Now file the chieftains, Su-khu-li rubi.[1] A festival in honor of their guest The Sar proclaims, and Erech gaily drest, Her welcome warm extends to the famed seer. The maidens, Erech's daughters, now appear, With richest kirtles gaily decked with flowers, And on his head they rain their rosy showers. Rejoicing sing, while harps and cymbals play, And laud him to the skies in their sweet way; And mingling with their joy, their monarch rode Before the seer, who stately after strode Beside his beast, and next the men of fame. The maids thus chant high honors to his name:

"A prince we make thee, mighty seer!
Be filled with joy and royal cheer!
All hail to Erech's seer!

Whom day and night our Sar hath sought,
O banish fear! for Hea taught
The seer, his glory wrought.

He comes! whom Samas loves as gold,
To Erech grace, our city old;
All wisdom he doth hold.

Great Hea doth to him unfold
All that remains to man untold;
Give him the chain of gold!

He cometh from the Za-Gab-ri
To our dear Erech Su-bu-ri.
Heabani glorify!

Thy dream he will reveal, O Sar!
Its meaning show to Izdubar,
Victorious king of war."

Within the council halls now lead the seers With trepidation and with many fears, To hear the seer explain their monarch's dream. Beside the royal throne he sits supreme Among the seers, the Sar, his scribe commands To read his dream recorded as it stands In Erech's Gi;[2] who reads it to the seer, Who answers thus: "In this there doth appear A god, whose ardent love will lead to deeds Of hate against thee, Sar; thy present needs Are great, O king! as fire this love will burn Until the wicked seven[3] on thee turn; And blood, alone, will not their fury sate: The gods will hurl upon thee some dread fate." In silence, Izdubar the warning heard; His blood with terror froze, and then was stirred By passions wild, when he recalled the scene Of Ishtar's love for him by man unseen; When she so wildly then proclaimed her love; And now with hate his inmost soul doth move, And her bright form to a black dal-khu[4] turned And furious passions on his features burned. And then of the first dream he thought, and light Across his vision broke: "'Tis true! aright Thy seer hath read! for Ishtar came to me In the first dream, her face e'en yet I see! Aye, more! her lips to mine again then fell! Her arms I felt around me,--breath too well I know! of fragrance, while perfume arose Around my dream and fled not at the close; As frankincense and myrrh it lingered, when I woke. Ah yes! the queen will come again!" Then to his counsellor who wondering stood, Nor heard his murmuring, but saw subdued His features were, at first, and then, they grand Became with settled hate; he raised his hand; "'Tis true!" he said, "Reward on him bestow! Then to the waiting feast we all shall go."

[Footnote 1: "Su-khu-li ru-bi," attendants of the King.]

[Footnote 2: "Gi," literally a written tablet, a record.]

[Footnote 3: The seven wicked spirits of the earth, air, and ocean.]

[Footnote 4: "Dal-khu," an evil spirit, a demon.]

COLUMN VI

IZDUBAR SLAYS THE MIDANNU IN THE FESTIVE HALL, AND HEABANI DECLARES HIM TO BE A GOD

The guests are seated round the festal board; Heabani takes his seat beside his lord. The choicest viands of the wealthy plain Before them placed and fishes of the main, With wines and cordials, juices rich and rare The chieftains all enjoy--the royal fare. This day, with Izdubar they laugh and joke 'Mid courtesies and mirth, and oft provoke The ringing merry laughter through the halls. When all are satisfied within the walls, Their fill have eaten of the royal fare, With wine they banish from them every care.

The Su-khu-li[1] with tinkling bells proclaim, "Our Sar would speak! Our king of mighty fame," Who says: "My chieftains, lords, our seer requests A test of strength before assembled guests; Unarmed requires your Sar-dan-nu to slay The Mid-an-nu[2] which he hath brought to-day. So stand aside, my friends, behold the test! Your Sar will satisfy his seer and guest." The monster now is brought before the king, Heabani him unchains to let him spring Upon the giant king. His chieftains stand In terror looking at their monarch grand, Who smiling stands, his eyes on the beast fixed; While they in wildest terror are transfixed.

Heabani claps his hands towards the king, And the wild beast upon his form doth spring. The giant grasps its throat in high mid-air, [3]And holds it 'neath his arm without a fear. With sullen choking roars it struggling dies, While shouts of joy from all the guests arise. The mighty deed of strength the seer appals, And at the feet of Izdubar he falls: "Immortal king! illustrious of men! Thy glorious strength reveals the gods again On earth. To thee I bow in reverent fear, A god returned thou art! O Erech, hear! Of kingdoms thou art blessed with grandest fame, That thou among thy kings a god can name." Again they gathered round the festal board, And joy and revelry they soon restored. The revels high are raised o'er sparkling wine; Through all the night they praise their king divine.

[Footnote 1: "Su-khu-li," the attendants.]

[Footnote 2: "Mid-an-nu," carnivorous animal, supposed to be a lion, the pet of the seer.]

[Footnote 3: This feat of Izdubar is portrayed on the bas-relief in the Louvre Museum, Paris, from the Khorsabad sculpture, and is also copied in Sayce's edition of Smith's "Chaldean Account of Genesis." opposite p. 175.]

TABLET IV[1]--COLUMN I

THE ANNUAL SALE OF THE MAIDENS OF BABYLON

Hail holy union! wedded love on earth! The highest bliss which crowns us from our birth, Our joy! the mainspring of our life and aims, Our great incentive when sweet love inflames Our hearts to glorious deeds and ever wreathes Around our brows, the happy smile that breathes Sweet fragrance from the home of holy love, And arms us with a courage from above.

O Woman! Woman! weave thy love around Thy chosen lover, who in thee hath found A loveliness and purity so sweet, That he doth watch for coming of the feet That brings him happiness and thrill his heart-- For one, of all thy kind who can impart To him the holiest bliss, the sweetest joy, That e'er can crown his life so tenderly; He worships thee within a holy fane, Let not his hope and joy be all in vain!

O thou, sweet Queen! we crown thee in our homes, And give to thee our love that holy comes From Heaven to inspire and bless our lives. For this mankind all hope to take pure wives To sacredest of all our temples, shrines, And keep thee pure within sweet love's confines That we may worship thee, and daily bring Devotions to our altar,--to thee sing Our orisons of praise, and sacred keep Our homes till we shall softly drop asleep Within the arms we love so tenderly, And carry with us a sweet memory Of purity and bliss that blessed our lives, And children gave from sweetest of pure wives.

Thou art our all! O holy woman, pure Forever may thy charms on earth endure! Oh, trample not upon thy husband's love! For true devotion he doth daily prove. Oh, shackle not his feet in life's fierce strife, His weary shoulders burden,--blast his life! Or palsy those dear hands that work for thee, And fill his eyes with tears of agony, Till love shall turn as acid to his teeth, And thorns shall tear his side with hellish wreath, And daggers pierce his heart, and ice his soul, And thou become to him a hated ghoul!

[2]What married woman is untainted, pure? She, who when married spreads for men no lure, Bestows caresses on no man but him Who is her husband; she who doth not trim Her form to catch the vulgar gaze, nor paints Herself, or in her husband's absence taunts Not her sweet purity; exposes not Her form undraped, whose veil no freeman aught Has raised;[3] or shows her face to others than Her slaves; and loves alone her husbandman; She who has never moistened her pure lips With liquors that intoxicate;[4] nor sips With others joys that sacred are alone To him, her strength; who claims her as his own.

O Beauty, Purity, my theme inspire! To woman's love of old, my muse aspire! When her sweet charms were equally bestowed, And fairest of the sex with hopes imbued Of capturing men of wealth and lives of ease, When loveliness at public sale[5] doth please The nobles of the land to wealth bestow Upon ill-favored sisters, maids of woe, Who claimed no beauty, nor had lovely charms; When crones and hags, and maids with uncouth forms, Secured a husbandman despite of fate, And love redeemed them from the arms of hate.

The proclamation Izdubar had made To bring to the great plaza every maid, For Beltis' feast and Hergal's now arrives, When maidens are selected as the wives Of noblemen or burghers of the towns And cities of the kingdom; when wealth crowns The nobles richest, ever as of old, With beauty they have purchased with their gold. The festival, the Sabat-tu[6] hath come! The Sabat-tu of Elul! hear the hum Of voices filling Erech's streets! The maids are coming, how each gaily prates! The day and hour has come for them to stand And meet the bidders from all Sumir's land; The day that ends their maidenhood, and brings Them joy or not. Oh, how the poor young things With throbbing hearts approach yon gathering throng To hear their fate pronounced; but is it wrong? The custom old, Accadia thinks is good, They all are young and fresh with maidenhood; The ugly ones as well, shall husbands have, And their young lives from shame thus they will save. No aged maids shall pass from yonder throng With bitterness,--their heart's unuttered song For some dear love to end their joyless woe, And longings unallayed that e'er may flow.

But Love! O where art thou? art thou a thing That gold may buy? Doth lucre thy bright wing Unfold to hover over human hearts? Oh, no! Thy presence to our soul imparts A sweeter joy than selfishness can give, Thou givest love that thou mayst love receive; Nor asking aught of wealth, of rank, or fame. True love in palace, hovel, is the same Sweet joy, the holiest of sacred things. For this we worship Ishtar, for she brings Us happiness, when we ourselves forget In the dear arms we love; no coronet Of power, or countless gold, or rank, or fame, Or aught that life can give, or tongue can name, Can reach the heart that loyally doth love, Nor hopes of heaven, nor fears of hell can move.

Mayhap, this Sabattu, some lover may All wealth he claims abandon on this day, For the dear heart that seeming pleads to him, While her fond glistening eyes shall on him gleam. A look, a glance; when mingling souls speak love, Will in his breast undying longings move; And let us hope that when the youths have lain[7] Their all before the herald, that no men Who see their sacrifice will rob their hearts Of all that gives them joy or bliss imparts; Or that this day alone will maidens see Who have not loved, and they will happy be With him who purchases her as his wife; Or proud young beauties will enjoy the strife Of bidders to secure their lovely charms, And love may bring their husbands to their arms.

The day is sacred, dedicated old To Love and Strength, when loving arms shall fold A vigorous husband to a maiden's breast, Where she may ever stay and safely rest. The day of Ishtar, Queen of Love! the day Of Nergal, the strong god, to whom they pray For strength to bless with vigor Accad's sons. For many anxious years this day atones.

[8]This day their Sar the flesh of birds eats not, Nor food profaned by fire this day, nor aught Of labor may perform nor _zubat_[9] change, Nor snowy _ku-bar-ra_[10] anew arrange. A sacrifice he offers not, nor rides Upon his chariot this day, nor guides His realm's affairs, and his Tur-tan-nu rests. Of soldiers, and of orders, he divests His mind; and even though disease may fall Upon him, remedies he may not call. The temple he shall enter in the night, And pray that Ishtar's favor may delight His heart; and lift his voice in holy prayer, In Nergal's temple rest from every care, Where he before the holy altar bends With lifted hands, his soul's petition sends.