The night is fleeing from the light of dawn,Which dimly falls upon the palace lawn;The King upon his royaldum-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 hisdum-khisprings,While loud his voice throughout the palace rings:"Ho! vassals! haste to me! your King!" he cries,And stamping fiercely while his passions rise.Thesukhu-li[2] andmasari[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 stridesThat show the trouble of his mind, and chidesThem 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 thenam-za-khi,[4]Who quickly opened for the King to flyWithout the gates; across the plains he ridesAway unmindful where his steed he guides.The horse's hoofs resound upon the plainAs 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 flashUnseen, and prickly pears, pomegranates, dashIn quick succession by, till the white foamFrom 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 ariseBehind him o'er the road like black storm clouds,While Zu[5] the storm-bird onward fiercely goadsThe seven[6] raven spirits of the air,And Nus-ku[7] opens wide the fiery glareOf 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 smiledAs 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 plainThat 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 dieBy a vile foe who from my host did fly?Or canst thou hope that sons of darkness mayThe 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 glowsThe forest round with sparks of fire that flewLike blazing meteors from their weapons true;And towering in their rage they cautious sprungUpon 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 throatAnd 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 gateOf 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.]
The counsellors assembled round the throneWithin the council halls ofzam-at[1] stone,Now greet their monarch, and behold his faceWith trouble written on his brow, and traceUneasiness within that eagle eye,While he with stately tread, yet wearilyHis 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.Theabuli[4] had told them on that morn,How he across the plains had wildly tornTo 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 eyesThe councillor, and to him thus replies:"'Tis true, my counsellors and wisest men,I dreamed a fearful dream Sat mu-si;[5] whenI have disclosed it, if one clear revealsIts meaning all and naught from me conceals,On him will I the greatest wealth bestow:I will ennoble him, and thesib-zu[6]Aku-bar-ra[7] for him shall rich prepare;As mytur-tan-u[8] he shall be, and seer,Decked with a golden chain shall next presideAt every feast, and break his bread besideThe 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 sealAs Erech's Sar's decree beyond repeal.
"I dreamed upon mydum-khi[9] fast asleep,The stars from heaven fell from yonder deepTo earth; and one, with fierceful heat my backDid pierce as molten fire, and left its trackOf 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 sightTill agony was lost in dread affright.I rooted stood, in terror, for its faceWas horrible; I saw in its feet's placeA lion's claws. It sprang, my strength it broke,And slew me, gloating over me! Awoke,I sprang, methought I was a corpseka-raVa tal-ka mat sar, talka bu-la shaRa-pas-ti sat-ti, ar-id-da! ka-ratVa 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 fateImpending 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 portendsThy 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; afarHe lives, Heabani should before the KingBe brought from Za-Ga-bri[11] thena-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 goesTo 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! receiveMy prayers, as wingèd birds, oh, may they flyAnd fishes carry them, and rivers weaveThem in the waters on to thee, O God!As creeping things of the vast desert, cryI 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 dayBe 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 giveTo 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 restUnbroken, 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 seersTheir footsteps turn to pray into the earsOf Hea,[17] where, in white, a band of priestsDrawn in a crescent, Izdubar invests.Now at the water's edge he leans, his handsDips in the waves, and pours upon the sandsThe sparkling drops, while all a hymn descantTo 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 yeWe pray! may your bright waters glowing shineAs 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.]
Before a cave within the Gab-ri[1] wild,A seer is resting on a rock; exiledBy his own will from all the haunts of men,Beside a pool within a rocky glenHe 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 criesThat fierce attacks a fox before his cave;For he of beasts is the most cunning knave;In wait upon the ground the fox hath lainTo 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 thea-si[2] quick seized it by the throat,While the wide wings with frantic fury smoteThe beast, and the sharp talons deeply toreIts 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 comesIn gentleness; upon the winds it roamsFrom yon blue heights like sighing of the trees;The seer in reverence upon his kneesNow holy bares his head in Samas' rays,While the soft voice to him thus gently says:"A messenger, Heabani, soon shall comeWith 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 dreamWhich goddess Ishtar sent,—a snare for him.Then to the messenger prove not a snare,As yondera-sidoth the eagle tear."
The seer in fury tore his beard of snowAnd cried—
"Alas! my days shall end in woeWithin 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 divinityAnd the insignia of royalty,Heabani then in Erech shall be great,And live in happiness and royal state;And Izdubar shall hearken, and inclineHis heart in warmest friendship, and reclineWith 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 bowAnd kiss thy feet, and Izdubar shall giveThee 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 cameFrom Samas, and his brow was lit with shameTo hear the god of war urge him to goTo earthly happiness—mayhap to woe;But he within his cave now listless turnsWhen 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 yoreWhen 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.]
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 wendsBeneath the Eri-ni,[1] and cliffs, and seesThe plains and mountains o'er the misty treesFrom the wild summit, and old Khar-sak glowAbove 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 voidOf 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 caveAnd 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 soughtTo urge him forth to leave his lonely lot.The prince the mountain precipice now climbs,And peers within while clinging to the limbsOf stunted oaks, and views the mountain lair;But all in vain his calls ring on the air.Then mounting wearily his steed he turnsAway, 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.]
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 yearsMay crown, and happiness may find—or tears;'Tis true! I should have welcomed thebar-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 thebur-khi-is[3]Sweep stately o'er the mossy rocks;Andtsabi[4] in a wild like this,Hear the tattoo of red woodchucks.
I love the cries oflig-bar-ri[5]Thenes-i[6] calling for their prey;And leaping of thena-a-li[7]That fly in wildest fear away.
I love thebu-hir-tser-i[8] all,Khar-sa-a-nii sa-qu-u-tu;[9]Hearcu-uts-tsi[10] with thunder rollAcross the skies within my view.
I love to see theca-ca-bi[11]Peep through the pine-trees o'er my home,And watch the wildtu-ra-a-khi[12]Andarme[13] welcome, to me come.
Farewell! ye solitudes, farewell!I will not moulder rotting lieWith no one's lips to wish me well;O give me immortality!
But what is fame? A bubble blownUpon 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 handsShow 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 watchfulnessO'er me, oh may it never cease!Keep thou the opening of my lips! the fleeceOf 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 theBritish Museum.]
[Footnote 15: See "Records of the Past," vol. iii. p. 136.]
[Footnote 16: "Genii," spirits.]
The dark-eyed maids are dancing in the hallsOf Erech's palace: music fills the wallsOf 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 singTo Erech's king our mighty Sar.[2]When Hea did Heabani bring,Who now to Erech comes afar,He taught him then all hidden thingsOf 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 visibleHeabani 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 cryIn 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.]
Our Izdubar dear Erech raisedFrom 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 charmsLike 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 preservesTo all our fathers day and night,And Erech's ruler well deservesOur highest praise, whose matchless mightDelights 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 chantHis birth and history and hyemal haunt.
Who can compare with thee, O Nin![2]The son of Bel; thy hands didst layUpon Ar-ur-u, thine own queen,With glory crowned her on that day.
To her thy strength did give, and blessedHer 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 lordFrom 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 aloneRetired within her palace wallsFor 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 foodWhile 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 rovesUpon 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 himThree days where Khar-sak's snowy brow doth gleam.Heabani with his beast in his cave went,And Zaidu waited, but his courage spentWhen he beheld the seer and beast remainWithin 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.]
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 essayedAs Amu's[1] soldier; I undaunted triedTo 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 ceasedWhen he refused, and angry from me passedWithin 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 playWithin the mountain gorges. Turn thy faceAgain with manly portance; for I'll graceThine embassy with two of our sweet maids,Who oft shall cheer thee through the mountain glades,Whom thou shalt lead before Heabani's denWith their bright charms exposed within the glen.Take Sam-kha-tu and sweet Khar-imatu:They will entice the seer when he shall viewTheir 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-tuBefore 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 sunShe disappeared within with waving arms;With bright locks flowing she displayed her charms.As some sweetzir-rudid 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.]
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 withbhu-ri[1] in the wood;O'er him who loves thezir-ri,—of them dreams,And sports with them within the mountain streams.And when the gay enticer saw the seerUnconscious 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, armsCompared 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 deathHe 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 inspireFor Sam-kha, joy, and love, and wild desire.He was not satisfied unless her formRemained before him with her endless charm.But when hisbhu-riof the field the sightBeheld, the wild gazelles fled in affright.And now without the cave they came in viewOf Zaidu waiting with sweet Kharim-tu,
And when Heabani saw the rounded formOf bright Kharim-tu, her voluptuous charmDrew him to her, and at her feet he sateWith 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 IzdubarDoth 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 turnedToward 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 powerOf him whose fame above all men doth tower.Amid-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 knownHis 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.]
The sounds of wild rejoicing now arise;"Heabani comes!" resound the joyful cries,And through the gates of Erech SuburiNow file the chieftains, Su-khu-li rubi.[1]A festival in honor of their guestThe 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 rodeBefore the seer, who stately after strodeBeside 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 taughtThe 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 unfoldAll that remains to man untold;Give him the chain of gold!
He cometh from the Za-Gab-riTo 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 seersWith trepidation and with many fears,To hear the seer explain their monarch's dream.Beside the royal throne he sits supremeAmong the seers, the Sar, his scribe commandsTo read his dream recorded as it standsIn Erech's Gi;[2] who reads it to the seer,Who answers thus:"In this there doth appearA god, whose ardent love will lead to deedsOf hate against thee, Sar; thy present needsAre great, O king! as fire this love will burnUntil 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 stirredBy passions wild, when he recalled the sceneOf 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] turnedAnd furious passions on his features burned.And then of the first dream he thought, and lightAcross his vision broke:"'Tis true! arightThy seer hath read! for Ishtar came to meIn 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 wellI know! of fragrance, while perfume aroseAround my dream and fled not at the close;As frankincense and myrrh it lingered, whenI woke. Ah yes! the queen will come again!"Then to his counsellor who wondering stood,Nor heard his murmuring, but saw subduedHis features were, at first, and then, they grandBecame 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.]
The guests are seated round the festal board;Heabani takes his seat beside his lord.The choicest viands of the wealthy plainBefore them placed and fishes of the main,With wines and cordials, juices rich and rareThe chieftains all enjoy—the royal fare.This day, with Izdubar they laugh and joke'Mid courtesies and mirth, and oft provokeThe 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 requestsA test of strength before assembled guests;Unarmed requires your Sar-dan-nu to slayThe 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 springUpon the giant king. His chieftains standIn 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 againOn 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 theLouvre Museum, Paris, from the Khorsabad sculpture, and is also copied inSayce's edition of Smith's "Chaldean Account of Genesis." opposite p.175.]
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 inflamesOur hearts to glorious deeds and ever wreathesAround our brows, the happy smile that breathesSweet fragrance from the home of holy love,And arms us with a courage from above.
O Woman! Woman! weave thy love aroundThy chosen lover, who in thee hath foundA loveliness and purity so sweet,That he doth watch for coming of the feetThat brings him happiness and thrill his heart—For one, of all thy kind who can impartTo 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 comesFrom Heaven to inspire and bless our lives.For this mankind all hope to take pure wivesTo sacredest of all our temples, shrines,And keep thee pure within sweet love's confinesThat we may worship thee, and daily bringDevotions to our altar,—to thee singOur orisons of praise, and sacred keepOur homes till we shall softly drop asleepWithin the arms we love so tenderly,And carry with us a sweet memoryOf purity and bliss that blessed our lives,And children gave from sweetest of pure wives.
Thou art our all! O holy woman, pureForever 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 himWho is her husband; she who doth not trimHer form to catch the vulgar gaze, nor paintsHerself, or in her husband's absence tauntsNot her sweet purity; exposes notHer form undraped, whose veil no freeman aughtHas raised;[3] or shows her face to others thanHer slaves; and loves alone her husbandman;She who has never moistened her pure lipsWith liquors that intoxicate;[4] nor sipsWith others joys that sacred are aloneTo 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 imbuedOf capturing men of wealth and lives of ease,When loveliness at public sale[5] doth pleaseThe nobles of the land to wealth bestowUpon 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 madeTo bring to the great plaza every maid,For Beltis' feast and Hergal's now arrives,When maidens are selected as the wivesOf noblemen or burghers of the townsAnd cities of the kingdom; when wealth crownsThe 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 humOf voices filling Erech's streets!The maids are coming, how each gaily prates!The day and hour has come for them to standAnd meet the bidders from all Sumir's land;The day that ends their maidenhood, and bringsThem joy or not. Oh, how the poor young thingsWith throbbing hearts approach yon gathering throngTo 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 throngWith bitterness,—their heart's unuttered songFor 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 thingThat gold may buy? Doth lucre thy bright wingUnfold to hover over human hearts?Oh, no! Thy presence to our soul impartsA 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 sameSweet joy, the holiest of sacred things.For this we worship Ishtar, for she bringsUs happiness, when we ourselves forgetIn the dear arms we love; no coronetOf 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 mayAll 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 menWho see their sacrifice will rob their heartsOf all that gives them joy or bliss imparts;Or that this day alone will maidens seeWho have not loved, and they will happy beWith him who purchases her as his wife;Or proud young beauties will enjoy the strifeOf bidders to secure their lovely charms,And love may bring their husbands to their arms.
The day is sacred, dedicated oldTo Love and Strength, when loving arms shall foldA vigorous husband to a maiden's breast,Where she may ever stay and safely rest.The day of Ishtar, Queen of Love! the dayOf Nergal, the strong god, to whom they prayFor 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 aughtOf labor may perform norzubat[9] change,Nor snowyku-bar-ra[10] anew arrange.A sacrifice he offers not, nor ridesUpon his chariot this day, nor guidesHis realm's affairs, and his Tur-tan-nu rests.Of soldiers, and of orders, he divestsHis mind; and even though disease may fallUpon him, remedies he may not call.The temple he shall enter in the night,And pray that Ishtar's favor may delightHis heart; and lift his voice in holy prayer,In Nergal's temple rest from every care,Where he before the holy altar bendsWith lifted hands, his soul's petition sends.
Around the square the palms and cedars shine,And bowers of roses cluster round divine.Beneath an arch of myrtles, climbing vines,And canopy,—with wreathing flowers it shines,There stands a wondrous garland-wreathèd throne,Where maids are gathered;—each unmarried one.The timid maids and bold of BabylonAre each in turn led to the rosy throne;The crowd of bidders round the herald stand,The richest and the poorest of the land.
The queen of Accad's maids doth now appear,We see the burnished chariot coming near,Ten beauteous bays with proud steps, nodding plumesCome first; behind, a train of nobles comes;And now we see the close-drawn canopyThrown back by slaves, who step aside, that sheThe queen of beauty crowned with lilies, rose,May here alight. And see! she queenly goesWith dainty steps between the noblemen,Who stand on either side the queenOf beauty of the plains, who first this dayShall reign upon the throne, and lead the wayFor all the maids who shall be bought for gold,And thus the first upon the throne is sold.
She takes her seat beneath the canopy,Upon the throne high raised, that all may see;As she her veil of fine spun gold flings backFrom her sweet face and o'er her ringlets black,Her large dark eyes, soft as a wild gazelle's,Upon the richest nobles dart appeals.Her bosom throbs 'neath gems and snowy lace,And robes of broidered satin, velvets, graceHer beauty with their pearly folds that fallAround her form.
Hark! hear the herald's call!"Behold this pearl! my lords and noblemen,And who will bid for her as wife, my men?""Ana-bilti khurassi ash at ka!"[11]"Akhadu khurassi ana sa-sa!"[12]"U sinu bilti khurassi!"[11] two cried."Sal-sutu bilti!"[12] nobles three replied;And four, and five, and six, till one bid ten,A vast amount of gold for noblemen:
But see! the bidders in excitement standAround a youth who cries with lifted handAnd features pale and stern, who now beganTo bid against a wealthy nobleman,Whose countless herds graze far upon the plain,His laden ships that ride upon the mainHe counts by scores. He turns his evil eyesAnd wolfish face upon the youth and cries,"Khamisserit!"[13] The lover answering says:"Esra'a!"[14] "U selasa'a!"[15] then braysThe gray-haired lover. "U irbaha!"[16] criesThe youth, and still the nobleman defies;Who answers cooly, "Khausa'a;"[17] and eyesThe anxious youth, who wildly "Miha!"[18] cries."Mine! mine! she is! though youalapu[19] bid!""A fool thou art!" the noble, leaving, said."One hundred talents for a maid!" he sneered,And in the crowd he growling disappeared.The measures filled with shining gold are brought,And thus the loveliest of all is bought.
The next in beauty on the throne is sold,And thus the beautiful are sold for gold.The richest thus select the beautiful,The poor must take alone the dutifulAnd homely with a dower which beauty bought,And ugliness with gold becomes his lot.The ugliest, unsightly, and deformed,Is now brought forth; with many wriggles squirmedShe to the throne, where beauty late had sat:Her ugliness distorted thus; whereatThe herald cries:"Who will this woman takeWith smallest dowry? She can cook and bake,And many household duties well perform,Although she does not claim a beauty's charm.Who wants a wife?"The ugly crone with blinksDoth hideous look, till every bidder shrinks.A sorry spectacle, mis-shapen, gross,She is, and bidders now are at a lossHow much to ask to take the hag to wife.At last one cries:"Fivebilti,[20] for reliefOf herald I will take, to start the bid!""And four ofbilti, I'll take, with the maid!""Three and a half!" one cries with shaking head,"And she is yours, my man!" the herald said,And thus she bought a husband and a home.
And so the scare-crows, scraggy ones, now comeIn turn; the lean, ill-favored, gawky, bald,Long-nosed, uncouth, raw-boned, and those with scaldAnd freckled, frowsy, ricketty and squat,The stumpy, bandy-leggèd, gaunt, each boughtA man; though ugly as a toad, they sold,For every man with her received his gold.The heaped-up gold which beauteous maids had broughtIs thus proportioned to the bidder's lot;The grisly, blear-eyed, every one is sold,And husbands purchased for a pile of gold,And happiness diffused throughout the land;For when the maid refused her husband's handShe might return by paying back the gold.And every maid who thus for wife was soldReceived a bond from him who purchased her,To wed her as his wife, or else incurThe forfeit of his bond, and thus no maidsIn all the land were found as grumbling jades,Whose fate it was to have no husbandman,For every woman had a husband then.
[Footnote 1: We have included in Tablet IV Tablets V and VI of the original, as classified by Mr. Sayce.]
[Footnote 2: The above is taken from an Assyrian fragment ("W.A.I.," ii. 35, No. 4) translated in "Records of the Past," vol. xi., pp. 159, 160, and presents the Assyrian view of purity and the customs of their people.]
[Footnote 3: Literally, "whose veil no freeman of pure race has raised." Before slaves and men of mean rank, women of the East are not obliged to veil the face.]
[Footnote 4: Literally, "who has never moistened her teeth with an intoxicating liquor." "Rec. of the Past," p. 160, l. 6.]
[Footnote 5: The public sale herein described is taken from the statement of Herodotus (see Herodotus, vol. i., p. 196. Compare "Nic. Dam. Fr.," 131, and Ælian. "Var. Hist.," iv. 1), who says all the marriageable virgins in all the towns of the empire or kingdom were sold at public auction. The beautiful maidens were sold to the highest bidder, and the proceeds were deposited before the herald. The ugly maidens in turn were then put up, and the bidders were called upon to take them as wives with the smallest dowry to be paid from the proceeds of the sales of the beautiful maids, and they were in turn awarded to those who would accept them with the smallest amount as dowry. The numerous contracts for the sales of women now in the British Museum may possibly be records of these transactions.]
[Footnote 6: "Sab-at-tu," a day of rest for the heart ("W.A.I.," ii. 32), the Sabbath day, which was dedicated to the worship of the sun, moon, and stars, and their gods, which were known by different names.]
[Footnote 7: "Lain," to lay, v.a. (pretr. "laid," part, passive "lain," from "liggan," Sax.), "to place along the ground."—Fenning's Royal Eng. Dic., London, MDCLXXV.]
[Footnote 8: From the Babylonian Festival Calendar ("C.I.W.A.," vol. iv., pls. 32, 33); also translated in "Records of the Past," vol. vii., pp. 162, 163.]
[Footnote 9: "Zubat," robes.]
[Footnote 10: "Ku-bar-ra," linen robes.]
[Footnote 11: "And two golden talents!"]
[Footnote 12: "Three talents!"]
[Footnote 13: "Fifteen!"]
[Footnote 14: "Twenty!"]
[Footnote 15: "And thirty!"]
[Footnote 16: "And forty!"]
[Footnote 17: "Fifty!"]
[Footnote 18: "One hundred!"]
[Footnote 19: "One thousand!"]
[Footnote 20: "Five bilti," about £3,165 sterling, or $15,825.]