



Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Andy Schmitt and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team





BABYLONIAN AND ASSYRIAN LITERATURE

COMPRISING THE EPIC OF IZDUBAR, HYMNS, TABLETS, AND CUNEIFORM INSCRIPTIONS

WITH A SPECIAL INTRODUCTION BY EPIPHANIUS WILSON, A.M.

REVISED EDITION


1901




SPECIAL INTRODUCTION


The great nation which dwelt in the seventh century before our era on the
banks of Tigris and Euphrates flourished in literature as well as in the
plastic arts, and had an alphabet of its own. The Assyrians sometimes
wrote with a sharp reed, for a pen, upon skins, wooden tablets, or papyrus
brought from Egypt. In this case they used cursive letters of a Phoenician
character. But when they wished to preserve their written documents, they
employed clay tablets, and a stylus whose bevelled point made an
impression like a narrow elongated wedge, or arrow-head. By a combination
of these wedges, letters and words were formed by the skilled and
practised scribe, who would thus rapidly turn off a vast amount of "copy."
All works of history, poetry, and law were thus written in the cuneiform
or old Chaldean characters, and on a substance which could withstand the
ravages of time, fire, or water. Hence we have authentic monuments of
Assyrian literature in their original form, unglossed, unaltered, and
ungarbled, and in this respect Chaldean records are actually superior to
those of the Greeks, the Hebrews, or the Romans.

The literature of the Chaldeans is very varied in its forms. The hymns to
the gods form an important department, and were doubtless employed in
public worship. They are by no means lacking in sublimity of expression,
and while quite unmetrical they are proportioned and emphasized, like
Hebrew poetry, by means of parallelism. In other respects they resemble
the productions of Jewish psalmists, and yet they date as far back as the
third millennium before Christ. They seem to have been transcribed in the
shape in which we at present have them in the reign of Assurbanipal, who
was a great patron of letters, and in whose reign libraries were formed in
the principal cities. The Assyrian renaissance of the seventeenth century
B.C. witnessed great activity among scribes and book collectors: modern
scholars are deeply indebted to this golden age of letters in Babylonia
for many precious and imperishable monuments. It is, however, only within
recent years that these works of hoar antiquity have passed from the
secluded cell of the specialist and have come within reach of the general
reader, or even of the student of literature. For many centuries the
cuneiform writing was literally a dead letter to the learned world. The
clue to the understanding of this alphabet was originally discovered in
1850 by Colonel Rawlinson, and described by him in a paper read before the
Royal Society. Hence the knowledge of Assyrian literature is, so far as
Europe is concerned, scarcely more than half a century old.

Among the most valuable of historic records to be found among the
monuments of any nation are inscriptions, set up on public buildings, in
palaces, and in temples. The Greek and Latin inscriptions discovered at
various points on the shores of the Mediterranean have been of priceless
value in determining certain questions of philology, as well as in
throwing new light on the events of history. Many secrets of language have
been revealed, many perplexities of history disentangled, by the words
engraven on stone or metal, which the scholar discovers amid the dust of
ruined temples, or on the _cippus_ of a tomb. The form of one Greek
letter, perhaps even its existence, would never have been guessed but for
its discovery in an inscription. If inscriptions are of the highest
critical importance and historic interest, in languages which are
represented by a voluminous and familiar literature, how much more
precious must they be when they record what happened in the remotest dawn
of history, surviving among the ruins of a vast empire whose people have
vanished from the face of the earth?

Hence the cuneiform inscriptions are of the utmost interest and value, and
present the greatest possible attractions to the curious and intelligent
reader. They record the deeds and conquests of mighty kings, the Napoleons
and Hannibals of primeval time. They throw a vivid light on the splendid
sculptures of Nineveh; they give a new interest to the pictures and
carvings that describe the building of cities, the marching to war, the
battle, by sea and land, of great monarchs whose horse and foot were as
multitudinous as the locusts that in Eastern literature are compared to
them. Lovers of the Bible will find in the Assyrian inscriptions many
confirmations of Scripture history, as well as many parallels to the
account of the primitive world in Genesis, and none can give even a
cursory glance at these famous remains without feeling his mental horizon
widened. We are carried by this writing on the walls of Assyrian towns far
beyond the little world of the recent centuries; we pass, as almost
modern, the day when Julius Caesar struggled in the surf of Kent against
the painted savages of Britain. Nay, the birth of Romulus and Remus is a
recent event in comparison with records of incidents in Assyrian national
life, which occurred not only before Moses lay cradled on the waters of an
Egyptian canal, but before Egypt had a single temple or pyramid, three
millenniums before the very dawn of history in the valley of the Nile.

But the interest of Assyrian Literature is not confined to hymns, or even
to inscriptions. A nameless poet has left in the imperishable tablets of a
Babylonian library an epic poem of great power and beauty. This is the
Epic of Izdubar.

At Dur-Sargina, the city where stood the palace of Assyrian monarchs three
thousand years ago, were two gigantic human figures, standing between the
winged bulls, carved in high relief, at the entrance of the royal
residence. These human figures are exactly alike, and represent the same
personage--a Colossus with swelling thews, and dressed in a robe of
dignity. He strangles a lion by pressing it with brawny arm against his
side, as if it were no more than a cat. This figure is that of Izdubar, or
Gisdubar, the great central character of Assyrian poetry and sculpture,
the theme of minstrels, the typical hero of his land, the favored of the
gods. What is called the Epic of Izdubar relates the exploits of this
hero, who was born the son of a king in Ourouk of Chaldea. His father was
dethroned by the Elamites, and Izdubar was driven into the wilderness and
became a mighty hunter. In the half-peopled earth, so lately created, wild
beasts had multiplied and threatened the extermination of mankind. The
hunter found himself at war with monsters more formidable than even the
lion or the wild bull. There were half-human scorpions, bulls with the
head of man, fierce satyrs and winged griffins. Deadly war did Izdubar
wage with them, till as his period of exile drew near to a close he said
to his mother, "I have dreamed a dream; the stars rained from heaven upon
me; then a creature, fierce-faced and taloned like a lion, rose up against
me, and I smote and slew him."

The dream was long in being fulfilled, but at last Izdubar was told of a
monstrous jinn, whose name was Heabani; his head was human but horned; and
he had the legs and tail of a bull, yet was he wisest of all upon earth.
Enticing him from his cave by sending two fair women to the entrance,
Izdubar took him captive and led him to Ourouk, where the jinn married one
of the women whose charms had allured him, and became henceforth the
well-loved servant of Izdubar. Then Izdubar slew the Elamite who had
dethroned his father, and put the royal diadem on his own head. And behold
the goddess Ishtar (Ashtaroth) cast her eyes upon the hero and wished to
be his wife, but he rejected her with scorn, reminding her of the fate of
Tammuz, and of Alala the Eagle, and of the shepherd Taboulon--all her
husbands, and all dead before their time. Thus, as the wrath of Juno
pursued Paris, so the hatred of this slighted goddess attends Izdubar
through many adventures. The last plague that torments him is leprosy, of
which he is to be cured by Khasisadra, son of Oubaratonton, last of the
ten primeval kings of Chaldea. Khasisadra, while still living, had been
transported to Paradise, where he yet abides. Here he is found by Izdubar,
who listens to his account of the Deluge, and learns from him the remedy
for his disease. The afflicted hero is destined, after being cured, to
pass, without death, into the company of the gods, and there to enjoy
immortality. With this promise the work concludes.

The great poem of Izdubar has but recently been known to European
scholars, having been discovered in 1871 by the eminent Assyriologist, Mr.
George Smith. It was probably written about 2000 B.C., though the extant
edition, which came from the library of King Assurbanipal in the palace at
Dur-Sargina, must bear the date of 600 B.C. The hero is supposed to be a
solar personification, and the epic is interesting to modern writers not
only on account of its description of the Deluge, but also for the pomp
and dignity of its style, and for its noble delineation of heroic
character.


[Signature: Epiphanius Wilson]




CONTENTS


THE EPIC OF ISHTAR AND IZDUBAR:

The Invocation.

The Fall of Erech.

The Rescue of Erech.

Coronation of Izdubar.

Ishtar and Her Maids.

Izdubar Falls in Love with Ishtar.

Ishtar's Midnight Courtship.

The King's Second Dream.

Izdubar Relates His Second Dream.

Heabani, the Hermit Seer.

Expedition of Zaidu.

Heabani Resolves to Return.

Heabani's Wisdom.

In Praise of Izdubar and Heabani.

Zaidu's Return.

The Two Maidens Entice the Seer.

Festival in Honor of Heabani.

Izdubar Slays the Midannu.

Annual Sale of the Maidens of Babylon.

Council in the Palace.

The King at the Shrine of Ishtar.

The King at the Temple of Samas.

Expedition against Khumbaba.

Conflict of the Rival Giants.

Coronation of Izdubar.

The King's Answer and Ishtar's Rage.

Ishtar Complains to Anu.

Fight with the Winged Bull of Anu.

The Curse of Ishtar.

Ishtar Weaves a Spell Over Izdubar.

Ishtar's Descent to Hades.

Effect of Ishtar's Imprisonment in Hades.

Papsukul Intercedes for Ishtar.

Release of Ishtar.

Tammuz Restored to Life.

Escape of Tammuz from Hades.

The King and the Seer Converse.

Contest with the Dragons.

Heabani Reveals Visions to the King.

Grief of the King Over Heabani.

Burial of the Seer.

Izdubar Enters Hades.

The King's Adventure.

The King Meets Ur-hea.

Mua Welcomes Izdubar.

The King Becomes Immortal.

Izdubar Falls in Love with Mua.

Mua's Answer.


TABLETS AND CUNEIFORM INSCRIPTIONS:

Babylonian Exorcisms.

Accadian Hymn to Istar.

Annals of Assur-Nasi-Pal.

Assyrian Sacred Poetry.

Assyrian Talismans and Exorcisms.

Ancient Babylonian Charms.

Inscription of Tiglath Pileser I.

The Revolt in Heaven.

The Legend of the Tower of Babel.

An Accadian Penitential Psalm.

The Black Obelisk of Shalmaneser II.

Inscription of Nebuchadnezzar.

Accadian Poem on the Seven Evil Spirits.

Chaldean Hymns to the Sun.

Two Accadian Hymns.

Accadian Proverbs and Songs.

Babylonian Public Documents.

Babylonian Private Contracts.

Great Inscription of Khorsabad.




ISHTAR AND IZDUBAR

[_Translated by Leonidas Le Cenci Hamilton, M.A._]




ALCOVE I



TABLET I: COLUMN I

INVOCATION


O love, my queen and goddess, come to me;
My soul shall never cease to worship thee;
Come pillow here thy head upon my breast,
And whisper in my lyre thy softest, best.
And sweetest melodies of bright _Sami_,[1]
Our Happy Fields[2] above dear _Subartu_;[3]
Come nestle closely with those lips of love
And balmy breath, and I with thee shall rove
Through _Sari_[4] past ere life on earth was known,
And Time unconscious sped not, nor had flown.
Thou art our all in this impassioned life:
How sweetly comes thy presence ending strife,
Thou god of peace and Heaven's undying joy,
Oh, hast thou ever left one pain or cloy
Upon this beauteous world to us so dear?
To all mankind thou art their goddess here.
To thee we sing, our holiest, fairest god,
The One who in that awful chaos trod
And woke the Elements by Law of Love
To teeming worlds in harmony to move.
From chaos thou hast led us by thy hand,
[5]Thus spoke to man upon that budding land:
"The Queen of Heaven, of the dawn am I,
The goddess of all wide immensity,
For thee I open wide the golden gate
Of happiness, and for thee love create
To glorify the heavens and fill with joy
The earth, its children with sweet love employ."
Thou gavest then the noblest melody
And highest bliss--grand nature's harmony.
With love the finest particle is rife,
And deftly woven in the woof of life,
In throbbing dust or clasping grains of sand,
In globes of glistening dew that shining stand
On each pure petal, Love's own legacies
Of flowering verdure, Earth's sweet panoplies;
By love those atoms sip their sweets and pass
To other atoms, join and keep the mass
With mighty forces moving through all space,
Tis thus on earth all life has found its place.
Through Kisar,[6] Love came formless through the air
In countless forms behold her everywhere!
Oh, could we hear those whispering roses sweet,
Three beauties bending till their petals meet,
And blushing, mingling their sweet fragrance there
In language yet unknown to mortal ear.
Their whisperings of love from morn till night
Would teach us tenderly to love the right.
O Love, here stay! Let chaos not return!
With hate each atom would its lover spurn
In air above, on land, or in the sea,
O World, undone and lost that loseth thee!
For love we briefly come, and pass away
For other men and maids; thus bring the day
Of love continuous through this glorious life.
Oh, hurl away those weapons fierce of strife!
We here a moment, point of time but live,
Too short is life for throbbing hearts to grieve.
Thrice holy is that form that love hath kissed,
And happy is that man with heart thus blessed.
Oh, let not curses fall upon that head
Whom love hath cradled on the welcome bed
Of bliss, the bosom of our fairest god,
Or hand of love e'er grasp the venging rod.

Oh, come, dear Zir-ri,[7] tune your lyres and lutes,
And sing of love with chastest, sweetest notes,
Of Accad's goddess Ishtar, Queen of Love,
And Izdubar, with softest measure move;
Great Samas'[8] son, of him dear Zir-ri sing!
Of him whom goddess Ishtar warmly wooed,
Of him whose breast with virtue was imbued.
He as a giant towered, lofty grown,
As Babil's[9] great _pa-te-si_[10] was he known,
His armed fleet commanded on the seas
And erstwhile travelled on the foreign leas;
His mother Ellat-gula[11] on the throne
From Erech all Kardunia[12] ruled alone.

[Footnote 1: "Samu," heaven.]

[Footnote 2: "Happy Fields," celestial gardens, heaven.]

[Footnote 3: "Subartu," Syria.]

[Footnote 4: "Sari," plural form of "saros," a cycle or measurement of
time used by the Babylonians, 3,600 years.]

[Footnote 5: From the "Accadian Hymn to Ishtar," terra-cotta tablet
numbered "S, 954," one of the oldest hymns of a very remote date,
deposited in the British Museum by Mr. Smith. It comes from Erech, one of
the oldest, if not the oldest, city of Babylonia. We have inserted a
portion of it in its most appropriate place in the epic. See translation
in "Records of the Past," vol. v. p. 157.]

[Footnote 6: "Kisar," the consort or queen of Sar, father of all the
gods.]

[Footnote 7: "Zir-ri" (pronounced "zeer-ree"), short form of "Zi-aria,"
spirits of the running rivers--naiads or water-nymphs.]

[Footnote 8: "Samas," the sun-god.]

[Footnote 9: Babil, Babylon; the Accadian name was "Diu-tir," or "Duran."]

[Footnote 10: "Pa-te-si," prince.]

[Footnote 11: "Ellat-gula," one of the queens or sovereigns of Erech,
supposed to have preceded Nammurabi or Nimrod on the throne. We have
identified Izdubar herein with Nimrod.]

[Footnote 12: "Kardunia," the ancient name of Babylonia.]



COLUMN II

THE FALL OF ERECH


O Moon-god,[1] hear my cry! With thy pure light
Oh, take my spirit through that awful night
That hovers o'er the long-forgotten years,
To sing Accadia's songs and weep her tears!
'Twas thus I prayed, when lo! my spirit rose
On fleecy clouds, enwrapt in soft repose;
And I beheld beneath me nations glide
In swift succession by, in all their pride:
The earth was filled with cities of mankind,
And empires fell beneath a summer wind.
The soil and clay walked forth upon the plains
In forms of life, and every atom gains
A place in man or breathes in animals;
And flesh and blood and bones become the walls
Of palaces and cities, which soon fall
To unknown dust beneath some ancient wall.
All this I saw while guided by the stroke
Of unseen pinions:

                      Then amid the smoke
That rose o'er burning cities, I beheld
White Khar-sak-kur-ra's[2] brow arise that held
The secrets of the gods--that felt the prore
Of Khasisadra's ark; I heard the roar
Of battling elements, and saw the waves
That tossed above mankind's commingled graves.
The mighty mountain as some sentinel
Stood on the plains alone; and o'er it fell
A halo, bright, divine; its summit crowned
With sunbeams, shining on the earth around
And o'er the wide expanse of plains;--below
Lay Khar-sak-kal-ama[3] with light aglow,
And nestling far away within my view
Stood Erech, Nipur, Marad, Eridu,
And Babylon, the tower-city old,
In her own splendor shone like burnished gold.
And lo! grand Erech in her glorious days
Lies at my feet. I see a wondrous maze
Of vistas, groups, and clustering columns round,
Within, without the palace;--from the ground
Of outer staircases, massive, grand,
Stretch to the portals where the pillars stand.
A thousand carved columns reaching high
To silver rafters in an azure sky,
And palaces and temples round it rise
With lofty turrets glowing to the skies,
And massive walls far spreading o'er the plains,
Here live and move Accadia's courtly trains,
And see! the _pit-u-dal-ti_[4] at the gates,
And _masari_[5] patrol and guard the streets!
And yonder comes a _kis-ib_, nobleman,
With a young prince; and see! a caravan
Winds through the gates! With men the streets are filled!
And chariots, a people wise and skilled
In things terrestrial, what science, art,
Here reign! With laden ships from every mart
The docks are filled, and foreign fabrics bring
From peoples, lands, where many an empire, king,
Have lived and passed away, and naught have left
In history or song. Dread Time hath cleft
Us far apart; their kings and kingdoms, priests
And bards are gone, and o'er them sweep the mists
Of darkness backward spreading through all time,
Their records swept away in every clime.
Those alabaster stairs let us ascend,
And through this lofty portal we will wend.
See! richest Sumir rugs amassed, subdue
The tiled pavement with its varied hue,
Upon the turquoise ceiling sprinkled stars
Of gold and silver crescents in bright pairs!
And gold-fringed scarlet curtains grace each door,
And from the inlaid columns reach the floor:
From golden rods extending round the halls,
Bright silken hangings drape the sculptured walls.

But part those scarlet hangings at the door
Of yon grand chamber! tread the antique floor!
Behold the sovereign on her throne of bronze,
While crouching at her feet a lion fawns;
The glittering court with gold and gems ablaze
With ancient splendor of the glorious days
Of Accad's sovereignty. Behold the ring
Of dancing beauties circling while they sing
With amorous forms in moving melody,
The measure keep to music's harmony.
Hear! how the music swells from silver lute
And golden-stringed lyres and softest flute
And harps and tinkling cymbals, measured drums,
While a soft echo from the chamber comes.

But see! the sovereign lifts her jewelled hand,
The music ceases at the Queen's command;
And lo! two chiefs in warrior's array,
With golden helmets plumed with colors gay,
And golden shields, and silver coats of mail,
Obeisance make to her with faces pale,
Prostrate themselves before their sovereign's throne
In silence brief remain with faces prone,
Till Ellat-gula[6] speaks: "My chiefs, arise!
What word have ye for me? what new surprise?"
Tur-tau-u,[7] rising, says, "O Dannat[8] Queen!
Thine enemy, Khum-baba[9] with Rim-siu[10]
With clanging shields, appears upon the hills,
And Elam's host the land of Sumir fills."
"Away, ye chiefs! sound loud the _nappa-khu_![11]
Send to their post each warrior _bar-ru_!"[12]
The gray embattlements rose in the light
That lingered yet from Samas'[13] rays, ere Night
Her sable folds had spread across the sky.
Thus Erech stood, where in her infancy
The huts of wandering Accads had been built
Of soil, and rudely roofed by woolly pelt
O'erlaid upon the shepherd's worn-out staves,
And yonder lay their fathers' unmarked graves.
Their chieftains in those early days oft meet
Upon the mountains where they Samas greet,
With their rude sacrifice upon a tree
High-raised that their sun-god may shining see
Their offering divine; invoking pray
For aid, protection, blessing through the day.
Beneath these walls and palaces abode
The spirit of their country--each man trod
As if his soul to Erech's weal belonged,
And heeded not the enemy which thronged
Before the gates, that now were closed with bars
Of bronze thrice fastened.

                  See the thousand cars
And chariots arrayed across the plains!
The marching hosts of Elam's armed trains,
The archers, slingers in advance amassed,
With black battalions in the centre placed,
With chariots before them drawn in line,
Bedecked with brightest trappings iridine,
While gorgeous plumes of Elam's horses nod
Beneath the awful sign of Elam's god.
On either side the mounted spearsmen far
Extend; and all the enginery of war
Are brought around the walls with fiercest shouts,
And from behind their shields each archer shoots.

Thus Erech is besieged by her dread foes,
And she at last must feel Accadia's woes,
And feed the vanity of conquerors,
Who boast o'er victories in all their wars.
Great Subartu[14] has fallen by Sutu[15]
And Kassi,[16] Goim[17] fell with Lul-lu-bu,[18]
Thus Khar-sak-kal-a-ma[19] all Eridu[20]
O'erran with Larsa's allies; Subartu
With Duran[21] thus was conquered by these sons
Of mighty Shem and strewn was Accad's bones
Throughout her plains, and mountains, valleys fair,
Unburied lay in many a wolf's lair.
Oh, where is Accad's chieftain Izdubar,
Her mightiest unrivalled prince of war?

The turrets on the battlemented walls
Swarm with skilled bowmen, archers--from them falls
A cloud of winged missiles on their foes,
Who swift reply with shouts and twanging bows;
And now amidst the raining death appears
The scaling ladder, lined with glistening spears,
But see! the ponderous catapults now crush
The ladder, spearsmen, with their mighty rush
Of rocks and beams, nor in their fury slacked
As if a toppling wall came down intact
Upon the maddened mass of men below.
But other ladders rise, and up them flow
The tides of armed spearsmen with their shields;
From others bowmen shoot, and each man wields
A weapon, never yielding to his foe,
For death alone he aims with furious blow.
At last upon the wall two soldiers spring,
A score of spears their corses backward fling.
But others take their place, and man to man,
And spear to spear, and sword to sword, till ran
The walls with slippery gore; but Erech's men
Are brave and hurl them from their walls again.
And now the battering-rams with swinging power
Commence their thunders, shaking every tower;
And miners work beneath the crumbling walls,
Alas