XERXES. Alas, the triple banks of oars and those who died thereby! CHORUS. Pass! I will lead you, bring you home, with many a broken sigh!

Nay, thy friends are whelmed beneath the tide!

Ah woe to us, ah joy to them who stood against our pride!

For all have perished, all!

Right resolute they are! I saw disaster unforeseen. CHORUS. Ah, speakest thou of wreck, of flight, of carnage that hath been?

Yea verily—in mighty wreck hath sunk the Persian world!

Woe falls on Persia’s race, yea, woe again, again!

Alas, ye heavenly powers! Ye wrought a sorrow past belief, A woe, of woes the chief!

Alas, the woe and cost!

Alack, and is Pharnuchus slain, And Ariomardus, brave in vain? Where is Seualces’ heart of fire? Lilaeus, child of noble sire? Are Tharubis and Memphis sped? Hystaechmas, Artembáres dead? And where is brave Masistes, where?

Cry out, and learn the tale of woe! Where are thy comrades? where the band Who stood beside thee, hand in hand, A little while ago? Where now hath Pharandákes gone, Where Psammis, and where Pelagon? Where now is brave Agdabatas, And Susas too, and Datamas? Hath Susiscanes past away, The chieftain of Ecbatana?

With plashing tears our sorrow’s tale, Lamenting for the loved and lost!

O king and lord! thine Asian land Down, down upon its knee is bent!

For Persia’s honour, pass’d away, For glory and heroic sway Mown down by Fortune’s hand to-day! Hark, how the kingdom makes its moan,

On Persia’s land what power of Fate Descends, what louring gloom of hate?

But now there are none to gainsay that the gods are against us; we lie Subdued in the havoc of wreck, and whelmed by the wrath of the sky!

For dead men have no profit of their gold!

Zeus lours in wrath, exacting the account.

Defaced and dashed from sight the altars fell, And each god’s image, from its pedestal Thrust and flung down, in dim confusion lies! Therefore, for outrage vile, a doom as dark They suffer, and yet more shall undergo—

There is it fated for them to endure The very crown of misery and doom, Requital for their god-forgetting pride! For why? they raided Hellas, had the heart To wrong the images of holy gods, And give the shrines and temples to the flame!

f man may trust the oracles of Heaven

Over the folk a Mede, Astyages, Did grasp the power: then Cyaxares ruled In his sire’s place, and held the sway aright, Steering his state with watchful wariness. Third in succession, Cyrus, blest of Heaven, Held rule and ’stablished peace for all his clan: Lydian and Phrygian won he to his sway, And wide Ionia to his yoke constrained, For the god favoured his discretion sage. Fourth in the dynasty was Cyrus’ son, And fifth was Mardus, scandal of his land And ancient lineage. Him Artaphrenes,

Trusting random counsellors and hare-brained men of nought,

by will of Zeus!

GHOST OF DARIUS.

With awe on thee I gaze, And, standing face to face, I tremble as I did in olden days!

The land is wasted of its men, And down to death are rolled Wreckage of sail and oar, Ships that are ships no more, And bodies of the slain!

O Earth, and Hermes, and the king Of Hades, our Darius bring!

To summon up Darius from the shades, Himself a shade; and I will pour these draughts, Which earth shall drink, unto the gods of hell.

Of Persia’s fallen power, that none can lift nor save!

Land of the East, thou mournest for the host, Bereft of all thy sons, alas the day! For them whom Xerxes led hath Xerxes lost— Xerxes who wrecked the fleet, and flung our hopes away!

Spirit of Fate, too heavy were thy feet,

Who heretofore held lightly of the gods, Now crouched and proffered prayer to Earth and Heaven!

My son went forth to wreak his great revenge On famous Athens! all too few they seemed, Our men who died upon the Fennel-field!

by aid of Heaven,

Dead, sayest thou? by what fate overthrown?

Woe on us, woe! disaster’s mighty sea Hath burst on us and all the Persian realm!

Once let the gloom of night have gathered in, The Greeks will tarry not, but swiftly spring Each to his galley-bench, in furtive flight, Softly contriving safety for their life. Thy son believed the word and missed the craft Of that Greek foeman, and the spite of Heaven, And straight to all his captains gave this charge— As soon as sunlight warms the ground no more, And gloom enwraps the sanctuary of sky, Range we our fleet in triple serried lines To bar the passage from the seething strait, This way and that: let other ships surround The isle of Ajax, with this warning word— That if the Greeks their jeopardy should scape By wary craft, and win their ships a road. Each Persian captain shall his failure pay By forfeit of his head. So spake the king,

There Magian Arabus and Artames Of Bactra perished—taking up, alike, In yonder stony land their long sojourn. Amistris too, and he whose strenuous spear Was foremost in the fight, Amphistreus fell, And gallant Ariomardus, by whose death Broods sorrow upon Sardis: Mysia mourns For Seisames

Hath lightly leaped to death; and Tenagon, In true descent a Bactrian nobly born, Drifts by the sea-lashed reefs of Salamis, The isle of Ajax. Gone Lilaeus too, Gone are Arsames and Argestes! all,

Thou, Athens, art our murderess

Yet must I all the tale of death unroll! Hark to me, Persians! Persia’s host lies low.

To no man do they bow as slaves, nor own a master’s hand.

Yet one more word—say, in what realm do the Athenians dwell?

And by thee let Darius’ soul be wistfully implored—

And one, the Ionian, proud in this array, Paced in high quietude, and lent her mouth, Obedient, to the guidance of the rein.

As in the night now passed.—Attend my tale!— A dream I had: two women nobly clad Came to my sight, one robed in Persian dress, The other vested in the Dorian garb, And both right stately and more tall by far Than women of to-day, and beautiful

Darius, in the old time, by aid of some Immortal,

See, yonder comes the mother-queen, Light of our eyes, in godlike sheen, The royal mother of the king!— Fall we before her! well it were That, all as one, we sue to her, And round her footsteps cling!

How fareth he, Darius’ child,

Masistes, Artembáres passed: Imaeus too, the bowman brave, Sosthánes, Pharandákes, drave— And others the all-nursing wave Of Nilus to the battle gave; Came Susiskánes, warrior wild, And Pegastágon, Egypt’s child:

The Shepherd and Lord of the East hath bidden a roadway to be! From the land to the land they pass over, a herd at the high king’s best; Some by the way of the waves, and some o’er the planking have pressed. For the king is a lord and a god: he was born of the golden seed That erst upon Danae fell—his captains are strong at the need! And dark is the glare of his eyes, as eyes of a serpent blood-fed, And with manifold troops in his train and with manifold ships hath he sped—

From Babylon enriched with gold— Captains of ships and archers skilled To speed the shaft, and those who wield The scimitar;—the eastern band Who, by the great king’s high command, Swept to subdue the western land!

Marshals who serve the great king’s word Chieftains of all the mighty horde! Horsemen and bowmen streamed away, Grim in their aspect, fixed to slay, And resolute to face the fray! With troops of horse, careering fast, Masistes, Artembáres passed: Imaeus too, the bowman brave, Sosthánes, Pharandákes, drave— And others the all-nursing wave Of Nilus to the battle gave; Came Susiskánes, warrior wild, And Pegastágon, Egypt’s child: Thee, brave Arsámes! from afar

The Epic Of Gilgamesh 24 7 THE DEATH OF GILGAMESH T HE destiny was fulfilled which the father of the gods, Enlil of the mountain, had decreed for Gilgamesh: ‘In nether-earth the darkness will show him a light: of mankind, all that are known, none will leave a monument for generations to come to compare with his. The heroes, the wise men, like the n e w moon have their waxing and waning. Men will say, "Who has ever ruled with might and with power like him?" As in the dark month, the month of shadows, so without him there is no light. O Gilgamesh, this was the meaning of your dream. Y o u were given the kingship, such was your destiny, everlasting life was not your destiny. Because of this do not be sad at heart, do not be grieved o r oppressed; he has given y o u power to bind and to loose, to be the darkness and the light of mankind. He has given unexampled supremacy over the people, victory in battle from which no fugitive returns, in forays and assaults from which there is no going back. But d o not abuse this power, deal justly with your servants in the palace, deal justly before the face of the Sun.'

The uproar of mankind is intolerable and sleep is no longer possible by reason of the babel." So the gods agreed to exterminate mankind. Enlil did this, but Ea because of his oath warned me in a dream. He whispered their words to my house of reeds, "Reed-house, reed-house! Wall, O wall, hearken reed-house, wall reflect; O man of Shurrupak, son of Ubara-Tutu; tear down your house and build a boat, abandon possessions and look for life, despise worldly goods and save your soul alive. Tear down your house, I say, and build a boat. These are the measurements of the barque as you shall build her: let hex beam equal her length, let her deck be roofed like the vault that covers the abyss; then take up into the boat the seed of all living creatures."

The Epic Of Gilgamesh 16 4 THE SEARCH FOR EVERLASTING LIFE BITTERLY Gilgamesh wept for his friend Enkidu; he wandered over the wilderness as a hunter, he roamed over the plains; in his bitterness he cried, ‘How can I rest, how can I be at peace? Despair is in my heart. What my brother is now, that shall I be when I am dead. Because I am afraid of death I will go as best I can to find Utnapishtim whom they call the Faraway, for he has entered the assembly of the gods.' So Gilgamesh travelled over the wilderness, he wandered over the grasslands, a long journey, in search of Utnapishtim, whom the gods took after the deluge; and they set him to live in the land of Dilmun, in the garden of the sun; and to him alone of men they gave everlasting life. At night when he came to the mountain passes Gilgamesh prayed: ‘In these mountain passes long ago I saw lions, I was afraid and I lifted my eyes to the moon; I prayed and my prayers went up to the gods, so now, O moon god Sin, protect me.' When he had prayed he lay down to sleep, until he was woken from out of a dream. He saw the lions round him glorying in life; then he took his axe in his hand, he drew his sword from his belt, and he fell upon them like an arrow from the string, and struck and destroyed and scattered them. So at length Gilgamesh came to Mashu, the great mountains about which he had heard many things, which guard the rising and the setting sun. Its twin peaks are as high as the wall of heaven and its paps reach down to the underworld. At its gate the Scorpions stand guard, half man and half dragon; their glory is terrifying, their stare strikes death into men, their shimmering halo sweeps the mountains that guard the rising sun. When Gilgamesh saw them he shielded his eyes for the length of a moment only; then he took courage and approached. When they saw him so undismayed the Man-Scorpion called to his mate, ‘This one who comes to us now is flesh of the gods.' The mate of the Man-Scorpion answered, ‘Two thirds is god but one third is man.' Then he called to the man Gilgamesh, he called to the child of the gods: ‘ Why have you come so great a journey; for what have you travelled so far, crossing the dangerous waters; tell me the reason for your coming?' Gilgamesh answered, ‘For Enkidu; I loved him dearly, together we endured all kinds of hardships; on his account I have come, for the common lot of man has taken him. I have wept for him day and night, I would not give up his body for burial, I thought my friend would come back because of my weeping. Since he went, my life is nothing; that is why I have travelled here in search of Utnapishtim my father; for men say he has entered the assembly of the gods, and has found everlasting life: I have a desire to question him, concerning the living and the dead.' The Man-Scorpion opened his mouth and said, speaking to Gilgamesh, ‘No man born of woman has done what you have asked, no mortal man has gone into the mountain; the length of it is twelve leagues of darkness; in it there is no light, but the heart is oppressed with darkness. From the rising of the sun to the setting of the sun there is no light.' Gilgamesh said, ‘Although I should go in sorrow and in pain, with sighing and with weeping, still I must go. Open the gate ' of the mountain:' And the Man-Scorpion said, ‘Go, Gilgamesh, I permit you to pass through the mountain of Mashu and through the high ranges; may your feet carry you safely home. The gate of the mountain is open.' When Gilgamesh heard this he did as the Man-Scorpion had said, he followed the sun's road to his rising, through the mountain. When he had gone one league the darkness became thick around him, for there was no light, he could see nothing ahead and nothing behind him. After two leagues the darkness was thick and there was no light, he could see nothing ahead and nothing behind him. After three leagues the darkness was thick, and there was no w light, he could see nothing ahead and nothing behind him. After four leagues the darkness was thick and there was no light, he could see nothing ahead and nothing behind him. At the end of five leagues the darkness was thick and there was no light, he could see nothing ahead and nothing behind him. At the end of six leagues the darkness was thick and there was no light, he could see nothing ahead and nothing behind him. When he had gone seven leagues the darkness was thick and there was no light, he could see nothing ahead and nothing behind him.

This day on which Enkidu dreamed came to an end and be lay stricken with sickness. One whole day he lay on his bed and his suffering increased. He said to Gilgamesh, the friend on whose account he had left the wilderness, 'Once I ran for you, for the water of life, and I now have nothing:' A second day he lay on his bed and Gilgamesh watched over him but the sickness increased. A third day he lay on his bed, he called out to Gilgamesh, rousing him up. Now he was weak and his eyes were blind with weeping. Ten days he lay and his suffering increased, eleven and twelve days he lay on his bed of pain. Then he called to Gilgamesh, 'My friend, the great goddess cursed me and I must die in shame. I shall not die like a man fallen in battle; I feared to fall, but happy is the man who falls in the battle, for I must die in shame.' And Gilgamesh wept over Enkidu. With the first light of dawn he raised his voice and said to the counsellors of Uruk

vampire

Ishtar opened her mouth and said again, ‘My father, give me the Bull of Heaven to destroy Gilgamesh. Fill Gilgamesh, I say, with arrogance to his destruction; but if you refuse to give me the Bull of Heaven I will break in the doors of hell and smash the bolts; there will be confusion of people, those above with those from the lower depths. I shall bring up the dead to eat food like the living; and the hosts of dead will outnumber the living.' Anusa d to great Ishtar, ‘If I do what you desire there will be seven years of drought throughout Uruk when corn will be seedless husks. Have you saved grain enough for the people and grass for the cattle? Ishtar replied. ‘I have saved grain for the people, grass for the cattle; for seven years o£ seedless husks, there is grain and there is grass enough.'

umbaba said, 'Enkidu, what you have spoken is evil: you, a hireling, dependent for your bread! In envy and for fear of a rival you have spoken evil words.' Enkidu said, ‘Do not listen, Gilgamesh: this Humbaba must die. Kill Humbaba first and his servants after

The great winds he appointed: the north wind, the whirlwind, the stone and the i c y wind, the tempest and the scorching win

he heavens roared and the earth roared again, daylight failed and darkness fell, lightnings flashed, fire blazed out, the clouds lowered, they rained down death. Then the brightness departed, the fire went out, and all was turned to ashes fallen about us. Let us go down from the mountain and talk this over, and consider what we should do

ough, he had long hair like a woman's; it waved like the hair of Nisaba, the goddess of corn. His body was covered with matted hair like Samugan's, the god of cattle. He was innocent of mankind; he knew nothing of the cultivated land. Enkidu ate grass in the hills with the gazelle and lurked with wild beasts at the water-holes; he had joy of the water with the herds of wild game. But there was a trapper who met him one day face to face at the drinking-hole,