Gilgamesh (11 page)

At midnight he awoke. He said to Enkidu, “What happened? Did you touch me? Did a god pass by? What makes my skin creep? Why am I cold? Enkidu, dear friend, I have had a dream, a dream more horrible than both the others. The heavens roared and the earth heaved, then darkness, silence. Lightning flashed, igniting the trees. By the time the flames died out, the ground was covered with ash. Dear friend, tell me, what does this mean?”

Enkidu said, “Don't worry, my friend, the dream you had is a favorable one. The fiery heavens stand for Humbaba, who tried to kill you with lightning and flames. But in spite of the fire, he could not harm you. We will kill Humbaba. Success is ours. However he attacks us, we will prevail.” Gilgamesh, happy with his good dream, smiled, and his face lit up with pleasure.

At four hundred miles they stopped to eat, at a thousand miles they pitched their camp. They had traveled for just three days and nights, a six weeks' journey for ordinary men. When the sun was setting, they dug a well, they filled their waterskins with fresh water, Gilgamesh climbed to the mountaintop, he poured out flour as an offering and said,
“Mountain, bring me a favorable dream.” Enkidu did the ritual for dreams, praying for a sign. A gust of wind passed. He built a shelter for the night, placed Gilgamesh on the floor and spread a magic circle of flour around him, then sprawled like a net across the doorway. Gilgamesh sat there, with his chin on his knees, and sleep overcame him, as it does all men.

At midnight he awoke. He said to Enkidu, “What happened? Did you touch me? Did a god pass by? What makes my skin creep? Why am I cold? Enkidu, dear friend, I have had a fourth dream, a dream more horrible than the three others. I saw a fierce eagle with a lion's head, it floated down toward me like a huge cloud, it grimaced at me, terrifying flames shot from its mouth, then beside me I saw
a young man with an unearthly glow, he seized the creature, he broke its wings, he wrung its neck and threw it to the ground. Dear friend, tell me, what does this mean?”

Enkidu said, “Don't worry, my friend, the dream you had is a favorable one. The eagle that you saw, with a lion's head, stands for Humbaba. Though it dived straight toward you and terrifying flames shot from its mouth, nothing could cause you harm. The young man who came to your rescue was our lord, Shamash. He will stand beside us when the monster attacks. Whatever happens, we will prevail.” Gilgamesh, happy with his good dream, smiled, and his face lit up with pleasure.

At four hundred miles they stopped to eat, at a thousand miles they pitched their camp.
They had traveled for just three days and nights, a six weeks' journey for ordinary men. When the sun was setting, they dug a well, they filled their waterskins with fresh water, Gilgamesh climbed to the mountaintop, he poured out flour as an offering and said, “Mountain, bring me a favorable dream.” Enkidu did the ritual for dreams, praying for a sign. A gust of wind passed. He built a shelter for the night, placed Gilgamesh on the floor and spread a magic circle of flour around him, then sprawled like a net across the doorway. Gilgamesh sat there, with his chin on his knees, and sleep overcame him, as it does all men.

At midnight he awoke. He said to Enkidu, “What happened? Did you touch me? Did a god pass by?
What makes my skin creep? Why am I cold? Enkidu, dear friend, I have had a fifth dream, a dream more horrible than all the others. I was wrestling with a gigantic bull, its bellow shattered the ground and raised clouds of dust that darkened the sky, it pinned me down, it crushed me, I felt its breath on my face, then suddenly a man pulled me up, put his arms around me, and gave me fresh water from his waterskin. Dear friend, tell me, what does this mean?”

Enkidu said, “Don't worry, my friend, the dream you had is a favorable one. The gigantic bull is no enemy of ours. He stands for the very god who has helped us, bright Shamash, our protector, lord of the sky, who in every danger will come to our aid.
The man who pulled you up from the ground and gave you fresh water from his waterskin is Lugalbanda, your personal god. With
his
help, we will achieve a triumph greater than any man has achieved.”

They had reached the edge of the Cedar Forest. They could hear Humbaba's terrifying roar. Gilgamesh stopped. He was trembling. Tears flowed down his cheeks. “O Shamash,” he cried, “protect me on this dangerous journey. Remember me, help me, hear my prayer.” They stood and listened. A moment passed. Then, from heaven, the voice of the god called to Gilgamesh: “Hurry, attack, attack Humbaba while the time is right, before he enters the depths of the forest, before he can hide there and wrap himself
in his seven auras with their paralyzing glare.

He is wearing just one now. Attack him! Now!” They stood at the edge of the Cedar Forest, gazing, silent. There was nothing to say.

T
hey stood at the edge of the Cedar Forest, marveling at the great height of the trees. They could see, before them, a well-marked trail beaten by Humbaba as he came and went. From far off they saw the Cedar Mountain, sacred to Ishtar, where the gods dwell, the slopes of it steep, and rich in cedars with their sharp fragrance and pleasant shade. Gripping their axes, their knives unsheathed, they entered the Forest and made their way through the tangle of thorn bushes underfoot.

Suddenly Enkidu was seized by terror, his face turned pale like a severed head. He said to Gilgamesh, “Dear friend, I cannot continue, I am frightened, I cannot go on.
You
go into the dreadful forest,
you
kill Humbaba and win the fame. I will return now to great-walled Uruk, and all men will know what a coward I have been.”

Gilgamesh answered, “Dear friend, dear brother, I cannot kill Humbaba alone. Please stay here with me. Stand at my side. ‘Two boats lashed together will never sink. A three-ply rope is not easily broken.' If we help each other and fight side by side, what harm can come to us? Let us go on and attack the monster. We have come so far. Whatever you are feeling, let us go on.”

Enkidu said, “You have never met him, so you don't know the horror that lurks ahead. But when I saw him, my blood ran cold.
His teeth are knife-sharp, they stick out like tusks, his face, blood-smeared, is a lion's face, he charges ahead like a raging torrent, his forehead ablaze. Who can withstand him? I am terrified. I cannot go on.”

Gilgamesh said, “Courage, dear brother, this is no time to give in to fear. We have come so far, across so many mountains, and our journey is about to reach its goal. You were raised in the wild, with your own hands you have killed marauding lions and wolves, you are brave, your heart has been tested in combat. Though your arms feel weak now and your legs tremble, you are a warrior, you know what to do. Shout out your battle-cry, let your voice pound like a kettle drum. Let your heart inspire you to be joyous in battle, to forget about death. If we help each other and fight side by side,
we will make a lasting name for ourselves, we will stamp our fame on men's minds forever.”

They walked deep into the Cedar Forest, gripping their axes, their knives unsheathed, following the trail that Humbaba had made.

They came within sight of the monster's den. He was waiting inside it. Their blood ran cold. He saw the two friends, he grimaced, he bared his teeth, he let out a deafening roar. He glared at Gilgamesh. “Young man,” he said, “you will never go home. Prepare to die.” Dread surged through Gilgamesh, terror flooded his muscles, his heart froze, his mouth went dry, his legs shook, his feet were rooted to the ground.

Enkidu saw his dismay and said, “Dear friend, great warrior, noble hero,
don't lose courage, remember this: ‘Two boats lashed together will never sink. A three-ply rope is not easily broken.' If we help each other and fight side by side, what harm can come to us? Let us go on.”

They advanced to the monster's den. Humbaba charged out roaring at them and said, “I know you, Gilgamesh. Don't be a fool. Go away. Leave the Cedar Forest. Have madmen told you to confront me here? I will tear you limb from limb, I will crush you and leave you bloody and mangled on the ground. And you, Enkidu, you son of a fish or a turtle, you gutless, fatherless spawn who never suckled on mother's milk, I saw you in the pastures when you were young, I saw you graze with the wandering herds
but I didn't kill you, you were too scrawny, you wouldn't have made a decent meal. And now you dare to lead Gilgamesh here, you both stand before me looking like a pair of frightened girls. I will slit your throats, I will cut off your heads, I will feed your stinking guts to the shrieking vultures and crows.”

Gilgamesh backed away. He said, “How dreadful Humbaba's face has become! It is changing into a thousand nightmare faces, more horrible than I can bear. I feel haunted. I am too afraid to go on.”

Enkidu answered, “Why, dear friend, do you speak like a coward? What you just said is unworthy of you. It grieves my heart. We must not hesitate or retreat.

Two intimate friends cannot be defeated. Be courageous. Remember how strong you are. I will stand by you. Now let us attack.”

Gilgamesh felt his courage return. They charged at Humbaba like two wild bulls. The monster let out a deafening cry, his roar boomed forth like a blast of thunder, he stamped and the ground burst open, his steps split the mountains of Lebanon, the clouds turned black, a sulfurous fog descended on them and made their eyes ache. Then Shamash threw strong winds at Humbaba, the south wind, the north wind, the east and the west, storm wind, gale wind, hurricane, tornado, to pin him down and paralyze his steps. He could not move forward, could not retreat. Gilgamesh saw it, he leaped upon him, he held a knife to Humbaba's throat.

Humbaba said, “Gilgamesh, have mercy. Let me live here in the Cedar Forest. If you spare my life, I will be your slave, I will give you as many cedars as you wish. You are king of Uruk by the grace of Shamash, honor him with a cedar temple and a glorious cedar palace for yourself. All this is yours, if only you spare me.”

Enkidu said, “Dear friend, don't listen to anything that the monster says. Kill him before you become confused.”

Humbaba said, “If any mortal, Enkidu, knows the rules of my forest, it is you. You know that this is my place and that I am the forest's guardian. Enlil put me here to terrify men,
and I guard the forest as Enlil ordains. If you kill me, you will call down the gods' wrath, and their judgment will be severe. I could have killed
you
at the forest's edge, I could have hung you from a cedar and fed your guts to the shrieking vultures and crows. Now it is your turn to show me mercy. Speak to him, beg him to spare my life.”

Enkidu said, “Dear friend, quickly, before another moment goes by, kill Humbaba, don't listen to his words, don't hesitate, slaughter him, slit his throat, before the great god Enlil can stop us, before the great gods can get enraged, Enlil in Nippur, Shamash in Larsa. Establish your fame, so that forever men will speak of brave Gilgamesh, who killed Humbaba in the Cedar Forest.”