GILGAMESH Washed out his long locks and cleaned his weapons; he flung back his hair from his shoulders; he
threw off his stained clothes and changed them for new. He put on his royal robes and made them fast. When Gilgamesh
had put on the crown, glorious Ishtar lifted her eyes, seeing the beauty of Gilgamesh. She said, ‘Come to me Gilgamesh,
and be my bridegroom; grant me seed of your body, let me be your bride and you shall be my husband. I will harness for
you a chariot of lapis lazuli and of gold, with wheels of gold and horns of copper; and you shall have mighty demons of
the storm for draft mules. When you enter our house in the fragrance of cedar-wood, threshold and throne will kiss your
feet. Kings, rulers, and princes will bow down before you; they shall bring you tribute from the mountains and the plain.
Your ewes shall drop twins and your goats triplets; your pack-ass shall outrun mules; your oxen shall have no rivals, and
your chariot horses shall be famous far-off for their swiftness.'
Gilgamesh opened his mouth and answered glorious Ishtar, ‘If I take you in marriage, what gifts can I give in return?
What ointments and clothing for your body? I would gladly give you bread and all sorts of food fit for a god. I would give
you wine to drink fit for a queen. I would pour out barley to stuff your granary; but as for making you my wife - that I will
not. How would it go with me? Your lovers have found you like a brazier which smoulders in the cold, a backdoor which
keeps out neither squall of wind nor storm, a castle which crushes the garrison, pitch that blackens the bearer, a water-skin
that chafes the carrier, a stone which falls from the parapet, a battering-ram turned back from the enemy, a sandal that trips
the wearer. Which of your lovers did you ever love for ever? What shepherd of yours has pleased you for all time? Listen
to me while I tell the tale of your lovers. There was Tammuz, the lover of your youth, for him you decreed wailing, year
after year. You loved the many coloured roller, but still you struck and broke his wing; now in the grove he sits and cries,
"kappi, kappi, my wing, my wing." You have loved the lion tremendous in strength: seven pits you dug for him, and
seven. You have loved the stallion magnificent in battle, and for him you decreed whip and spur and a thong, to gallop
seven leagues by force and to muddy the water before he drinks; and for his mother Silili lamentations. You have loved
the shepherd of the flock; he made meal-cake for you day after day, he killed kids for your sake. You struck and turned
him into a wolf, now his own herd-boys chase him away, his own hounds worry his flanks. And did you not love
Ishullanu, the gardener of your father's palm grove? He brought you baskets filled with dates without end; every day he
YOU ARE READING
THE EPIC OF GILGAMESH
FantasyTHE EPIC OF GILGAMESH is the earliest epic story in history