(Quoth Mesrour the Eunuch), The Khalif Haroun er Reshid was very wakeful one night and said to me, ‘See which of the poets is at the door to-night.’ So I went out and finding Jemil ben Maamer el Udhri (58) in the ante-chamber, said to him, ‘The Commander of the Faithful calls for thee.’ Quoth he, ‘I hear and obey,’ and going in with me, saluted the Khalif, who returned his greeting and bade him sit down. Then he said to him, ‘O Jemil, hast thou any new stories to tell us?’ ‘Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered he. ‘Whether wouldst thou liefer hear, that which I have seen with mine eyes or that which I have [but] heard tell?’ ‘Tell me something thou hast actually seen,’ said the Khalif. Quoth Jemil, ‘It is well, O Commander of the Faithful; incline thy heart to me and lend me thine ears.’ The Khalif took a cushion of red brocade, embroidered with gold and stuffed with ostrich-feathers, and laying it under his thighs, propped up his elbows thereon; then he said to Jemil, ‘Now for thy tale, O Jemil!’

‘Know, O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered he, ‘that I was once desperately enamoured of a certain girl and used to pay her frequent visits, for that she was my desire and delight of all the things of this world. After awhile, her people removed with her, by reason of scarcity of pasture, and I abode some time without seeing her, till I grew restless for desire and longed for her sight and my soul urged me to journey to her. One night, I could hold out no longer; so I rose and saddling my she-camel, bound on my turban and donned my oldest clothes. Then I girt myself with my sword and slinging my spear behind me, mounted and rode forth in quest of her. I fared on diligently till, one night, it was pitch dark and exceeding black and I heard on all sides the roaring of lions and howling of wolves and the cries of the wild beasts; whereat my reason was troubled and my heart sank within me; but for all that I ceased not to press on, descending into valleys and climbing mountains, whilst my tongue ceased not to call on the name of God the Most High.

As I went along thus, sleep overtook me and the camel carried me aside out of my road, till, presently, something (59) smote me on the head, and I woke, startled and alarmed, and found myself in a meadow, (60) full of interlacing trees and streams and birds on the branches, warbling their various notes. So I alighted and taking my camel’s halter in my hand, fared on softly with her, till I won clear of the trees and came out into the open country, where I adjusted her saddle and mounted again, knowing not where to go nor whither the fates should lead me; but, presently, peering into the desert, I espied a fire afar off. So I smote my camel and made toward the fire. When I drew near, I saw a tent pitched and thereby a spear stuck in the ground, with a pennon flying and horses tethered and camels feeding, and said in myself, “Doubtless there hangs some grave matter by this tent, for I see none other than it in the desert.” So I went up to it and said, “Peace be upon you, O people of the tent, and the mercy of God and His blessings!” Whereupon there came forth to me a young man, nineteen years old, who was as the shining full moon, with valour written between his eyes, and answered, saying, “And on thee be peace, O brother of the Arabs, and God’s mercy and blessing! Methinks thou hast lost thy way?” “Even so,” replied I. “Direct me aright, God have mercy on thee!” “O brother of the Arabs,” rejoined he, “of a truth this our land is infested with lions and the night is exceeding dark and cold and dreary, and I fear lest the wild beasts tear thee in pieces; wherefore do thou alight and abide with me this night in ease and comfort, and to-morrow I will put thee in the right way.”

Accordingly, I alighted and hobbled my camel with the end of her halter; then I put off my heavy upper clothes and sat down. Presently the young man took a sheep and slaughtered it and kindled a brisk fire; after which he went into the tent and bringing out fine salt and powdered spices, fell to cutting off pieces of the flesh of the sheep and roasting them over the fire and feeding me therewith, weeping one while and sighing another. Then he groaned heavily and wept sore and recited the following verses:

Nothing is left him but a fluttering spright, Ay, and an eye bereavéd of its light;
Nor in his members is a single joint But sickness there is constant day and night.
His tears flow ever and his heart burns aye; Yet for all this still silent is the wight.
His foes weep, pitying him; alas for those Who pity in th’ exultant foe excite!
By this I knew that the youth was a distracted lover, — for none knoweth passion save he who hath tasted the savour thereof, — and said to myself, “Shall I ask him?” But I bethought me and said, “How shall I intrude on him with questioning, and I in his abode?” So I restrained myself and ate my sufficiency of the meat. When we had made an end of eating, the young man arose and entering the tent, brought out an elegant basin and ewer and a silken napkin, fringed with broidery of red gold, and a casting-bottle full of rose-water, mingled with musk. I marvelled at his elegance and the daintiness of his fashion and said in myself, “Never knew I of elegance in the desert.” Then we washed our hands and talked awhile, after which he went into the tent and making a partition between himself and me with a piece of red brocade, said to me, “Enter, O chief of the Arabs, and take thy rest; for thou hast suffered toil and travel galore this night and in this thy journey.” So I entered and finding a bed of green brocade, pulled off my clothes and passed a night such as I had never passed in my life.

I lay, pondering the young man’s case, till it was dark night and all eyes slept, when I was aroused by the sound of a low voice, never heard I a softer or sweeter. I raised the curtain and saw, by the young man’s side, a damsel, never beheld I a fairer of face, and they were both weeping and complaining, one to the other, of the pangs of passion and desire and of the excess of their longing for each other’s sight. “By Allah,” quoth I, “I wonder who this can be! When I entered this tent, there was none therein but this young man. Doubtless this damsel is of the daughters of the Jinn and is enamoured of this youth; so they have secluded themselves with one another in this place.” Then I considered her attentively and behold, she was a mortal and an Arab girl, whose face, when she unveiled it, put to shame the shining sun, and the tent was illumined by the light of her countenance. When I was assured that she was his mistress, I bethought me of a lover’s jealousy; so I let fall the curtain and covering my face, fell asleep. As soon as it was day, I arose and donning my clothes, made the ablution and prayed such prayers as were due from me. Then I said to my host, “O brother of the Arabs, wilt thou add to thy favours by directing me into the right road?” “At thy leisure, O chief of the Arabs,” answered he. “The time of a guest’s stay is three days, and I am not one to let thee go before that time.”

So I abode with him three days, and on the fourth day, as we sat talking, I asked him of his name and lineage. Quoth he, “As for my lineage, I am of the Benou Udhreh; my name is such an one, son of such an one and my father’s brother is called such an one.” And behold, O Commander of the Faithful, he was the son of my father’s brother and of the noblest house of the Benou Udhreh. “O my cousin,” said I, “what moved thee to leave thy fair estate and that of thy fathers and thy slaves and handmaids and seclude thyself alone in this desert?” When he heard my words, his eyes filled with tears and he replied, saying, “Know, O my cousin, that I was passionately enamoured of the daughter of my father’s brother and distracted for love of her; so I sought her in marriage of her father, but he refused and married her to a man of the Benou Udhreh, who went in to her and carried her to his abiding-place this last year. When she became thus removed from me and I was prevented from looking on her, the pangs of passion and excess of love-longing and desire drove me to forsake my people and friends and fortune and take up my abode in this desert, where I have grown used to my solitude.” “Where are their dwellings?” asked I. And he said, “They are hard by, on the top of yonder hill; and every night, at the dead time when all eyes sleep, she steals secretly out of the camp, unseen of any, and I satisfy my desire of her converse and she of mine.” So I abide thus, comforting [or solacing] myself with her [company] a part of the night, till God accomplish that which is to be; either I shall compass my desire, in spite of the envious, or God will determine for me, and He is the best of those that determine.”

When I knew his case, O Commander of the Faithful, I was concerned for him and perplexed by reason of [my] jealousy [for his welfare]; so I said to him, “O my cousin, wilt thou that I counsel thee a plan, wherein, if it please God, thou shalt find a source of amendment and the way of advisement and success and whereby God shall do away from thee that thou dreadest?” “Say on, O my cousin,” answered he. Quoth I, “When it is night and the girl cometh, set her on my camel; for she is swift of going, and mount thou thy courser, whilst I mount one of these she-camels. So will we fare on with her all night and by the morrow, we shall have traversed deserts and plains, and thou wilt have attained thy desire and won the beloved of thy heart. God’s earth is wide, and by Allah, I will succour thee with heart and wealth and sword, as long as I live!” “O cousin,” answered he, “wait till I take counsel with her, for she is prudent and quick-witted and hath insight into affairs.”

When the night darkened and the hour of her coming arrived, and he awaiting her at the appointed season, she delayed beyond her usual time, and I saw him go forth the door of the tent and opening his mouth, inhale the wafts of air that came from her quarter, as if to snuff her odour, and he repeated the following verses:

Wind of the East, thou waftest a gentle air to me, From out the loved one’s country, the place where sojourns she.
O wind, thou bear’st a token from her I hold so dear: Canst thou not give me tidings when will her coming be?
Then he entered the tent and sat awhile, weeping; after which he said to me, “O my cousin, some mischance must have betided the daughter of my uncle, to hinder her from coming to me this night. But abide where thou art, till I bring thee news.” And he took his sword and buckler and was absent awhile of the night, after which he returned, carrying something, and called to me. So I hastened to him and he said, “O my cousin, knowst thou what hath happened?” “No, by Allah!” answered I. Quoth he, “Verily, I am smitten with mourning for my cousin this night; for she was coming to me, as of wont, when a lion met her in the way and rent her, and there remaineth of her but what thou seest.” So saying, he threw down what he had in his hand, and behold, it was the damsel’s turban and what was left of her bones. Then he wept sore and casting down his shield, took a bag and went forth again, saying, “Stir not hence, till I return to thee, if it please God the Most High.”

He was absent awhile and presently returned, bearing in his hand a lion’s head, which he threw on the ground and called for water. So I brought him water, with which he washed the lion’s mouth and fell to kissing it and weeping: and he mourned for her passing sore and recited the following verses:

O lion, that thyself indeed didst on perdition throw, Perished hast thou and for her loss hast filled my heart with woe.
Thou hast bereaved me of my love and eke the cold earth’s womb Hast made her dwelling till the day that calls up high and low.
To Fate, that with the loss of her afflicteth me, quoth I, “Now God forbid that one to take her place to me thou show!”
Then said he to me, “O cousin, I conjure thee by Allah and the rights of kindred and sympathy betwixt us, keep my charge. Thou wilt presently see me dead before thee, whereupon do thou wash me and shroud me and these that remain of my cousin’s bones in this mantle and bury us both in one grave and write thereon these verses:

Upon the earth a fire we lived of solace and delight; In land and house foregathered we full many a day and night.
But fortune and the shifts of time did rend our loves apart And now within its bosom strait the shroud doth us unite.
Then he wept sore and entering the tent, was absent awhile, after which he came forth, groaning and crying out. Then he gave one sob and departed this world. When I saw that he was indeed dead, it was grievous to me and so sore was my sorrow for him that I had well nigh followed him for excess of lamentation over him. Then I laid him out and did as he had enjoined me, shrouding the damsel’s remains with him in one garment and burying them in one grave. I abode by their grave three days, after which I departed and continued to pay frequent visits to the place for two years. This then is their story, O Commander of the Faithful.’

The Khalif was pleased with Jemil’s story and rewarded him with a dress of honour and a handsome present.

There was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a rich and powerful king, who ruled over many men of war and vassals, and he had grown old without being blessed with a son. At last, when he began to despair of male issue, he sought the intercession of the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) with the Most High and implored Him, by the glory of His saints and prophets and martyrs and others of the Faithful that were dear to Him, to grant him a son, to be the solace of his eyes and inherit the kingdom after him. Then he rose forthright and withdrawing to his sitting-chamber, sent for the daughter of his uncle (69) and lay with her. By God’s grace, she conceived by him, and when the months of her pregnancy were accomplished, she bore a male child, whose face was as the round of the moon on its fourteenth night. When the boy reached the age of five, he was committed to the charge of a sage of the sages, a very learned man, by name Es Sindibad, who taught him science and polite letters, till, by the time he was ten years old, there was none of his time could vie with him in knowledge and good breeding and understanding. Then his father delivered him to a company of Arabian cavaliers, who instructed him in horsemanship and martial exercises, till he became proficient therein and came and went in the listed field and excelled all his peers and all the folk of his day.

One day, his governor, being engaged in observing the stars, drew the youth’s horoscope and discovered that, if he spoke one word during the seven following days, he would be a dead man. So he went in straightway to the old King and informed him of this, and he said, ‘What shall we do, O sage?’ ‘O King,’ answered the other, ‘it is my counsel that he be kept in a place of pleasance, where he may divert himself with hearing music, until the seven days be past.’ So the King sent for the fairest of his favourites and committed the prince to her, saying, ‘Take thy lord into the palace with thee and let him not leave thee till after seven days.’ The damsel accordingly took the prince by the hand and carried him to the palace in question, which was compassed about by a running stream, whose banks were planted with all manner fruit-trees and sweet-scented flowers. Moreover, in this palace were forty apartments and in every apartment ten slave-girls, each skilled in some instrument of music, so that, when she played, the palace danced to her melodious strains; and here the prince passed one night.

Now he was handsome and graceful beyond description, and when the King’s favourite looked at him, love gat hold upon her heart and she was ravished with him. So she went up to him and offered herself to him, but he made her no answer; whereupon, being confounded by his beauty, she cried out to him and required him of himself and importuned him. Moreover, she threw herself upon him and strained him to her bosom, kissing him and saying, ‘O king’s son, grant me thy favours and I will set thee in thy father’s stead; yea, I will give him to drink of poison, so he may die and thou enjoy his wealth and kingship.’ When the prince heard this, he was sore enraged against her and said to her [by signs], ‘O accursed one, so it please God the Most High, I will assuredly requite thee this thy deed, whenas I can speak; for I will go out to my father and tell him, and he will kill thee.’ So saying, he arose, in a rage, and went out from her; whereat she feared for herself. So she buffeted her face and rent her clothes and tore her hair and uncovered her head, then went in to the King and threw herself at his feet, weeping and lamenting. When he saw her in this plight, he was sore concerned and said to her, ‘What ails thee, O damsel? How is it with thy lord [my son]? Is he not well?’ ‘O King,’ answered she, ‘this thy son, whom thy counsellors avouch to be dumb, required me of myself and I repelled him, whereupon he did with me as thou seest and would have slain me; so I fled from him, nor will I ever again return to him nor to the palace.’

When the King heard this, he was beyond measure wroth and calling his Viziers, bade them put the prince to death. However, they said to each other, ‘If we do the King’s commandment, he will surely repent of having ordered his son’s death, for he is passing dear to him and came to him after he had despaired of an heir; and he will turn on us and blame us, saying, “Why did ye not dissuade me from slaying my son?”‘ So they took counsel together, to turn him from his purpose, and the chief Vizier said, ‘I will warrant you from his mischief this day.’ Then he went in to the King and prostrating himself before him, craved leave to speak. The King gave him leave, and he said, ‘O King, though thou hadst a thousand sons, yet were it no light matter to thee to put one of them to death, on the report of a woman, speak she truth or falsehood; and belike this is a lie and a trick of her against thy son; for indeed, O King, I have heard tell great plenty of stories of the craft and perfidy of women.’ Quoth the King, ‘Tell me somewhat of that which hath come to thy knowledge thereof.’ And the Vizier answered, saying, ‘It hath reached me, O King, that

There was once a poor fisherman, who was getting on in years and had a wife and three children; and it was his custom every day to cast his net four times and no more. One day he went out at the hour of noon and repaired to the sea-shore, where he set down his basket and tucked up his skirts and plunging into the sea, cast his net and waited till it had settled down in the water. Then he gathered the cords in his hand and found it heavy and pulled at it, but could not bring it up. So he carried the end of the cords ashore and drove in a stake, to which he made them fast. Then he stripped and diving round the net, tugged at it till he brought it ashore. Whereat he rejoiced and landing, put on his clothes; but when he came to examine the net, he found in it a dead ass; and the net was torn. When he saw this, he was vexed and said: ‘There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme! This is indeed strange luck!’ And he repeated the following verses:

O thou that strivest in the gloom of darkness and distress, Cut short thine efforts, for in strife alone lies not success!
Seest not the fisherman that seeks his living in the sea, Midmost the network of the stars that round about him press!
Up to his midst he plunges in: the billows buffet him; But from the bellying net his eyes cease not in watchfulness;
Till when, contented with his night, he carries home a fish, Whose throat the hand of Death hath slit with trident pitiless,
Comes one who buys his prey of him, one who has passed the night, Safe from the cold, in all delight of peace and blessedness.

Praise be to God who gives to this and cloth to that deny! Some fish, and others eat the fish caught with such toil and stress.
Then he said, ‘Courage! I shall have better luck next time, please God!’ And repeated the following verses:

If misfortune assail thee, clothe thyself thereagainst With patience, the part of the noble: ’twere wiselier done.
Complain not to men: that were indeed to complain, To those that have no mercy, of the Merciful One.
So saying, he threw out the dead ass and wrung the net and spread it out. Then he went down into the sea and cast again, saying, ‘In the name of God!’ and waited till the net had settled down in the water, when he pulled the cords and finding it was heavy and resisted more than before, thought it was full of fish. So he made it fast to the shore and stripped and dived into the water round the net, till he got it free. Then he hauled at it till he brought it ashore, but found in it nothing but a great jar full of sand and mud. When he saw this, he groaned aloud and repeated the following verses:

Anger of Fate, have pity and forbear, Or at the least hold back thy hand and spare!
I sally forth to seek my daily bread And find my living vanished into air.
How many a fool’s exalted to the stars, Whilst sages hidden in the mire must fare!
Then he threw out the jar and wrung out and cleansed his net: after which he asked pardon of God the Most High and returning to the sea a third time, cast the net. He waited till it had settled down, then pulled it up and found in it potsherds and bones and broken bottles: whereat he was exceeding wroth and wept and recited the following verses:

Fortune’s with God: thou mayst not win to bind or set it free: Nor letter-lore nor any skill can bring good hap to thee.
Fortune, indeed, and benefits by Fate are lotted out: One country’s blest with fertile fields, whilst others sterile be.
The shifts of evil chance cast down full many a man of worth And those, that merit not, uplift to be of high degree.
So come to me, O Death! for life is worthless verily; When falcons humbled to the dust and geese on high we see.
‘Tis little wonder if thou find the noble-minded poor, What while the loser by main force usurps his sovranty.
One bird will traverse all the earth and fly from East to West: Another hath his every wish although no step stir he.
Then he lifted his eyes to heaven and said, ‘O my God, Thou knowest that I cast my net but four times a day; and now I have cast it three times and have taken nothing. Grant me then, O my God, my daily bread this time!’ So he said, ‘In the name of God!’ and cast his net and waited till it had settled down in the water, then pulled it, but could not bring it up, for it was caught in the bottom Whereupon, ‘There is no power and no virtue but in God!’ said he and repeated the following verses:

Away with the world, if it be like this, away! My part in it’s nought but misery and dismay!
Though the life of a man in the morning be serene, He must drink of the cup of woe ere ended day.
And yet if one asked, ‘Who’s the happiest man alive?’ The people would point to me and ‘He’ would say.
Then he stripped and dived down to the net and strove with it till he brought it to shore, where he opened it and found in it a brazen vessel, full and stoppered with lead, on which was impressed the seal of our lord Solomon, son of David (on whom be peace!). When he saw this, he was glad and said, ‘I will sell this in the copper market, for it is worth half a score diners.’ Then he shook it and found it heavy and said to himself, ‘I wonder what is inside! I will open it and see what is in it, before I sell it.’ So he took out a knife and worked at the leaden seal, till he extracted it from the vessel and laid it aside. Then he turned the vase mouth downward and shook it, to turn out its contents; but nothing came out, and he wondered greatly and laid it on the ground. Presently, there issued from it a smoke, which rose up towards the sky and passed over the face of the earth; then gathered itself together and condensed and quivered and became an Afrit, whose head was in the clouds and his feet in the dust. His head was like a dome, his hands like pitchforks, his legs like masts, his mouth like a cavern, his teeth like rocks, his nostrils like trumpets, his eyes like lamps, and he was stern and lowering of aspect. When the fisherman saw the Afrit, he trembled in every limb; his teeth chattered and his spittle dried up and he knew not what to do. When the Afrit saw him, he said, ‘There is no god but God, and Solomon is His prophet! O prophet of God, do not kill me, for I will never again disobey thee or cross thee, either in word or deed !’ Quoth the fisherman, ‘O Marid, thou sayest, “Solomon is the prophet of God.” Solomon is dead these eighteen hundred years, and we are now at the end of time. But what is thy history and how comest thou in this vessel?’ When the Marid heard this, he said, ‘There is no god but God! I have news for thee, O fisherman!’ ‘What news?’ asked he, and the Afrit answered, ‘Even that I am about to slay thee without mercy.” ‘O chief of the Afrits,’ said the fisherman, ‘thou meritest the withdrawal of God’s protection from thee for saying this! Why wilt thou kill me and what calls for my death? Did I not deliver thee from the abysses of the sea and bring thee to land and release thee from the vase?’ Quoth the Afrit, ‘Choose what manner of death thou wilt die and how thou wilt be killed.’ ‘What is my crime?’ asked the fisherman. ‘Is this my reward for setting thee free?’ The Afrit answered, ‘Hear my story, O fisherman!’ ‘Say on and be brief,’ quoth he, ‘for my heart is in my mouth.’ Then said the Afrit, ‘Know, O fisherman, that I was of the schismatic Jinn and rebelled against Solomon son of David (on whom be peace!), I and Sekhr the genie; and he sent his Vizier Asef teen Berkhiya, who took me by force and bound me and carried me, in despite of myself, before Solomon, who invoked God’s aid against me and exhorted me to embrace the Faith and submit to his authority: but I refused. Then he sent for this vessel and shut me up in it and stoppered it with lead and sealed it with the Most High Name and commanded the Jinn to take me and throw me into the midst of the sea. There I remained a hundred years, and I said in my heart, “Whoso releaseth me, I will make him rich for ever.” But the hundred years passed and no one came to release me, and I entered on another century and said, “Whoso releaseth me, I will open to him the treasures of the earth” But none released me, and other four hundred years passed over me, and I said, “Whoso releaseth me, I will grant him three wishes.” But no one set me free. Then I was exceeding wroth and said to myself, “Henceforth, whoso releaseth me, I will kill him and let him choose what death he will die.” And now, thou hast released me, and I give thee thy choice of deaths.’ When the fisherman heard this, he exclaimed, ‘O God, the pity of it that I should not have come to release thee till now!’ Then he said to the Afrit, ‘Spare me, that God may spare thee, and do not destroy me, lest God set over thee one who will destroy thee.’ But he answered, ‘There is no help for it, I must kill thee: so choose what death thou wilt die.’ The fisherman again returned to the charge, saying, ‘Spare me for that I set thee free.’ ‘Did I not tell thee,’ replied the Marid, ‘that is why I kill thee?’ ‘O head of the Afrits,’ said the fisherman, ‘I did thee a kindness, and thou repayest me with evil: indeed the proverb lieth not that saith:

“We did them good, and they the contrary returned: And this, upon my life, is what the wicked do!
Who helps those, that deserve it not, shall be repaid As the hyæna paid the man that helped her through.”‘
‘Make no more words about it,’ said the Afrit; ‘thou must die.’ Quoth the fisherman to himself, ‘This is a genie, and I am a man; and God hath given me a good wit. So I will contrive for his destruction by my wit and cunning, even as he plotted mine of his craft and perfidy.’ Then he said to the Afrit, ‘Is there no help for it, but thou must kill me?’ He answered, ‘No,’ and the fisherman said, ‘I conjure thee, by the Most High Name graven upon the ring of Solomon son of David (on whom be peace!), answer me one question truly.’ When the Afrit heard him mention the Most High Name, he was agitated and trembled and replied, ‘It is well: ask and be brief.’ Quoth the fisherman, ‘This vessel would not suffice for thy hand or thy foot: so how could it hold the whole of thee?’ Said the Afrit, ‘Dost thou doubt that I was in it?’ ‘Yes,’ answered the fisherman; ‘nor will I believe it till I see it with my own eyes.”‘ Here Shehrzad perceived the day and was silent.

And when it was the fourth night

Dunyazad said to her sister, “O sister, an thou be not asleep, finish us thy story.” So Shehrzad began, “I have heard tell, O august King, that, when he heard what the fisherman said, the Afrit shook and became a smoke over the sea, which drew together and entered the vessel little by little, till it was all inside. Whereupon the fisherman made haste to take the leaden stopper and clapping it on the mouth of the vessel, called out to the Afrit, saying, ‘Choose what death thou wilt die! By Allah, I will throw thee back into the sea and build myself a house hard by, and all who come hither I will warn against fishing here, and say to them, “There is an Afrit in these waters, that gives those who pull him out their choice of deaths and how he shall kill them.”‘ When the Afrit heard this and found himself shut up in the vessel, he knew that the fisherman had outwitted him and strove to get out, but could not, for Solomon’s seal prevented him; so he said to the fisherman, ‘I did but jest with thee.’ ‘Thou liest, O vilest and meanest and foulest of Afrits!’ answered he, and rolled the vessel to the brink of the sea; which when the Afrit felt, he cried out, ‘No! No!’ And the fisherman said, ‘Yes! Yes!’ Then the Afrit made his voice small and humbled himself and said, ‘What wilt thou do with me, O fisherman?’ ‘I mean to throw thee back into the sea,’ replied he; ‘since thou hast lain there already eighteen hundred years, thou shalt lie there now till the hour of judgment. Did I not say to thee, “Spare me, so God may spare thee; and do not kill me, lest God kill thee?” but thou spurnedst my prayers and wouldst deal with me no otherwise than perfidiously. So I used cunning with thee and now God has delivered thee into my hand.’ Said the Afrit, ‘Let me out, that I may confer benefits on thee.’ The fisherman answered, ‘Thou liest, O accursed one! Thou and I are like King Younan’s Vizier and the physician Douban.’ ‘Who are they,’ asked the Afrit, ‘and what is their story?’ Then said the fisherman, ‘Know, O Afrit, that

Nick explains that in 1922 he was renting an inexpensive cottage sandwiched between two mansions in West Egg, a seaside community of wealthy parvenus on Long Island Sound. Directly across the bay was East Egg, inhabited by members of the “old aristocracy”, including Tom and Daisy Buchanan. Daisy is Nick’s second cousin once removed; Nick knew of her husband Tom, a celebrated football player at Yale. Nick describes the Buchanans through a visit to their opulent East Egg mansion: although phenomenally wealthy, Tom’s glory days are behind him; he is a brutish, overbearing dilettante and Daisy, although engaging, gay, and attractive, is pampered and superficial with a largely ignored two-year-old daughter. Nick detects a strain in the relationship and Daisy’s friend Jordan Baker, a well-known lady golfer, tells him that Tom has a mistress in New York City.

Tom offers Nick a lift to the city and on the way they stop at a shabby garage owned by George Wilson, where Nick is introduced to the owner’s brassy wife, Myrtle Wilson. Her colorless husband George has no suspicion that she is Tom’s mistress. Nick passively accompanies the couple to their urban love-nest, where Myrtle presides over a pretentious party that includes her sister Catherine. Catherine approves of the extramarital affair and informs Nick that both lovers cannot stand the people they married and would marry each other if Tom’s wife was not a Catholic who “doesn’t believe in divorce”, something Nick knows to be untrue. Nick finds the evening increasingly unbearable but is unable to leave until Tom breaks Myrtle’s nose in a spat. Nick, drunk, leaves with Chester McKee, a would-be artistic photographer. After a very strange night of drunkenness, which does call attention to a rather controversial aspect of the novel, Nick wakens to blearily go off to his job as a bond salesman.

What old aristocracy possesses in taste, however, it seems to lack in heart, as the East Eggers prove themselves careless, inconsiderate bullies who are so used to money’s ability to ease their minds that they never worry about hurting others.

Nick’s next-door neighbor is the wealthy and mysterious Jay Gatsby, who each weekend throws lavish parties hosting hundreds of people. Nick receives a formal invitation from Gatsby’s butler and attends. The party is wild and fun, but he finds that none of the guests know much about Gatsby and rumors about the man are contradictory. Many have never even met their host, as the parties are open and guests often attend uninvited. Nick runs into Jordan Baker, but they are separated while searching for Gatsby. A man strikes up a conversation with Nick, claiming to recognise him from the US Army’s First Division during the Great War. Nick mentions his difficulty in finding their host and the man reveals himself to be Gatsby himself, surprising Nick, who had expected him to be older and not as personable. Gatsby invites Nick to more get-togethers, and an odd ‘friendship’ begins.

One day Gatsby appears in a magnificent yellow roadster and drives Nick to New York City, irritating him with the odd statement that Jordan will be asking Nick for a favor on Gatsby’s behalf. Gatsby then presents a clichéd description of his life as a wealthy dilettante and war hero to an incredulous Nick, but the latter is convinced when Gatsby displays a Montenegrin war decoration. Gatsby then introduces a bemused Nick to underworld figure Meyer Wolfsheim, but when Nick sees Tom and tries to introduce Gatsby, Gatsby disappears.

Jordan reveals to Nick that Gatsby fell in love with Daisy before the war and hosts parties in the hope that she will visit. Gatsby has asked Jordan to ask Nick to get him a meeting with Daisy. Nick agrees: the reunion is initially awkward, but Gatsby and Daisy begin a love affair. An affair also begins for Nick and Jordan, but Nick knows of Jordan’s shortcomings and predicts that their relationship will be superficial.

Later, Daisy invites Gatsby and Nick over to her mansion and the three, accompanied by Tom and Jordan Baker, depart for a hotel in the city at Tom’s suggestion. Tom also insists that he and Gatsby switch cars; he takes advantage of Gatsby’s compliance by flaunting Gatsby’s roadster to George Wilson. At the hotel, Tom eventually notices Gatsby’s love for Daisy and, in front of Gatsby, Daisy, Nick, and Jordan, claims that he has been researching Gatsby. Tom alleges that Gatsby is a bootlegger and expresses his loathing of him. Gatsby urges Daisy to say that she never loved Tom; Daisy says that although she did love him, she still loved Gatsby as well. Tom mockingly tells Gatsby that nothing can happen between him and Daisy. Gatsby retorts that the only reason Daisy married Tom was because he (Gatsby) was too poor to afford to marry Daisy at the time. Tom is angered and for the second time in the novel he visibly loses his composure. Gatsby and Daisy drive off together in Gatsby’s car while Tom takes his time getting home in the company of Nick and Jordan.

The suspicions of George Wilson, husband of Tom’s mistress Myrtle, have also been aroused and he too has been arguing with his wife. Myrtle runs outside only to be struck and killed by Gatsby’s car, which is driven by Daisy. Daisy and Gatsby speed away. Later, Tom, Jordan, and Nick notice a commotion by the garage on their way to East Egg and stop. George Wilson, half-crazy with shock, rants about having seen a yellow car and Tom tells Wilson privately that the yellow car was Gatsby’s, but Wilson does not seem to listen and Tom, Jordan, and Nick leave. The half-crazed Wilson, however, later makes a mental connection between the driver of the car and Myrtle’s lover and resolves to pursue it.

The following day Nick learns the truth about the accident while breakfasting with Gatsby by his pool. Gatsby is depressed, unsure of whether Daisy still loves him and hoping for a call from her. Seeing himself as Gatsby’s closest friend, Nick advises Gatsby to leave for a week. “They’re [Daisy, Tom, Jordan] a rotten crowd,” Nick says, “You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.” Gatsby smiles the irresistible smile that Nick describes as having “faced—or seemed to face—the whole world, then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor”.

Wilson appears at the Buchanan mansion with a gun, finding Tom packing to escape with Daisy. Tom, unaware of Daisy’s culpability, names Gatsby as the driver of the car that killed Myrtle. Wilson finds Gatsby floating in his pool and kills him before committing suicide nearby.

Gatsby’s funeral devolves upon Nick, whose attempt to find other mourners is virtually fruitless; not even Gatsby’s shady business associates will attend. Apart from Gatsby’s servants and Nick, the only other mourners are “Owl Eyes” (a Gatsby party guest) and Gatsby’s father, Mr. Gatz. Left in the past by his son, he shows Nick a well-worn photograph Gatsby sent him of his mansion and a notebook from Gatsby’s youth that he feels illustrates his son’s drive and ambition.

Nick severs connections with Jordan (who claims to be engaged to another man), and, after a brief run-in with Tom, Nick returns permanently to the Midwest, reflecting on Gatsby and concluding that the American dream has been corrupted by the sole, empty pursuit of money.

The one who saw all [Sha nagba imuru ]I will declare to the world,
The one who knew all I will tell about
[line missing]
He saw the great Mystery, he knew the Hidden:
He recovered the knowledge of all the times before the Flood.
He journeyed beyond the distant, he journeyed beyond exhaustion,
And then carved his story on stone. [naru : stone tablets ]

This great hero who had all knowledge [nemequ ], Gilgamesh, built the great city of Uruk; the tablet invites us to look around and view the greatness of this city, its high walls, its masonwork, and here at the base of its gates, as the foundation of the city walls, a stone of lapis lazuli on which is carved Gilgamesh’s account of his exploits, the story you are about to hear.

The account begins: Gilgamesh, two-thirds god and one-third human, is the greatest king on earth and the strongest super-human that ever existed; however, he is young and oppresses his people harshly. The people call out to the sky-god Anu, the chief god of the city, to help them. In response, Anu creates a wild man, Enkidu, out in the harsh and wild forests surrounding Gilgamesh’s lands. This brute, Enkidu, has the strength of dozens of wild animals; he is to serve as the subhuman rival to the superhuman Gilgamesh.

A trapper’s son, while checking on traps in the forest, discovers Enkidu running naked with the wild animals; he rushes to his father with the news. The father advises him to go into the city and take one of the temple harlots, Shamhat, with him to the forest; 1 when she sees Enkidu, she is to offer herself sexually to the wild man. If he submits to her, the trapper says, he will lose his strength and his wildness.

Shamhat meets Enkidu at the watering-hole where all the wild animals gather; she offers herself to him and he submits, instantly losing his strength and wildness, but he gains understanding and knowledge. He laments for his lost state, but the harlot offers to take him into the city where all the joys of civilization shine in their resplendence; she offers to show him Gilgamesh, the only man worthy of Enkidu’s friendship.

Gilgamesh meanwhile has two dreams; in the first a meteorite falls to earth which is so great that Gilgamesh can neither lift it nor turn it. The people gather and celebrate around the meteorite, and Gilgamesh embraces it as he would a wife, but his mother, the goddess Rimat-Ninsun, forces him to compete with the meteorite. In the second, Gilgamesh dreams that an axe appears at his door, so great that he can neither lift it nor turn it. The people gather and celebrate around the axe, and Gilgamesh embraces it as he would a wife, but his mother, again, forces him to compete with the axe. Gilgamesh asks his mother what these dreams might mean; she tells him a man of great force and strength will come into Uruk. Gilgamesh will embrace this man as he would a wife, and this man will help Gilgamesh perform great deeds.
Tablet 2
Enkidu is gradually introduced to civilization by living for a time with a group of shepherds, who teach him how to tend flocks, how to eat, how to speak properly, and how to wear clothes. Enkidu then enters the city of Uruk during a great celebration. Gilgamesh, as the king, claims the right to have sexual intercourse first with every new bride on the day of her wedding; as Enkidu enters the city, Gilgamesh is about to claim that right. Infuriated at this abuse, Enkidu stands in front of the door of the marital chamber and blocks Gilgamesh’s way. They fight furiously until Gilgamesh wins the upper hand; Enkidu concedes Gilgamesh’s superiority and the two embrace and become devoted friends.

Both Enkidu and Gilgamesh gradually weaken and grow lazy living in the city, so Gilgamesh proposes a great adventure: they are to journey to the great Cedar Forest in southern Iran and cut down all the cedar trees. To do this, they will need to kill the Guardian of the Cedar Forest, the great demon, Humbaba the Terrible. Enkidu knows about Humbaba from his days running wild in the forest; he tries in vain to convince Gilgamesh not to undertake this folly.
Tablet 3
[Most of tablet three doesn't exist]

The elders of the city protest Gilgamesh’s endeavor, but agree reluctantly. They place the life of the king in the hands of Enkidu, whom they insist shall take the forward position in the battle with Humbaba. Gilgamesh’s mother laments her son’s fate in a prayer to the sun-god, Shamash, asking that god why he put a restless heart in the breast of her son. Shamash promises her that he will watch out for Gilgamesh’s life. Ramat-Ninsun, too, commands Enkidu to guard the life of the king and to take the forward position in the battle with Humbaba. In panic, Enkidu again tries to convince Gilgamesh not to undertake this journey, but Gilgamesh is confident of success.
Tablet 4
Tablet four tells the story of the journey to the cedar forest. On each day of the six day journey, Gilgamesh prays to Shamash; in response to these prayers, Shamash sends Gilgamesh oracular dreams during the night. These dreams are all ominous: The first is not preserved. In the second, Gilgamesh dreams that he wrestles a great bull that splits the ground with his breath. Enkidu interprets the dream for Gilgamesh; the dream means that Shamash, the bull, will protect Gilgamesh. In the third, Gilgamesh dreams:

The skies roared with thunder and the earth heaved,
Then came darkness and a stillness like death.
Lightening smashed the ground and fires blazed out;
Death flooded from the skies.
When the heat died and the fires went out,
The plains had turned to ash.

Enkidu’s interpretation is missing here, but like the other dreams, it is assumed he puts a positive spin on the dream. The fourth dream is missing, but Enkidu again tells Gilgamesh that the dream portends success in the upcoming battle. The fifth dream is also missing.

At the entrance to the Cedar Forest, Gilgamesh begins to quake with fear; he prays to Shamash, reminding him that he had promised Ninsun that he would be safe. Shamash calls down from heaven, ordering him to enter the forest because Humbaba is not wearing all his armor. The demon Humbaba wears seven coats of armor, but now he is only wearing one so he is particularly vulnerable. Enkidu loses his courage and turns back; Gilgamesh falls on him and they have a great fight. Hearing the crash of their fighting, Humbaba comes stalking out of the Cedar Forest to challenge the intruders. A large part of the tablet is missing here. On the one part of the tablet still remaining, Gilgamesh convinces Enkidu that they should stand together against the demon.
Tablet 5
Gilgamesh and Enkidu enter the gloriously beautiful Cedar Forest and begin to cut down the trees. Hearing the sound, Humbaba comes roaring up to them and warns them off. Enkidu shouts at Humbaba that the two of them are much stronger than the demon, but Humbaba, who knows Gilgamesh is a king, taunts the king for taking orders from a nobody like Enkidu. Turning his face into a hideous mask, Humbaba begins to threaten the pair, and Gilgamesh runs and hides. Enkidu shouts at Gilgamesh, inspiring him with courage, and Gilgamesh appears from hiding and the two begin their epic battle with Humbaba. Shamash intrudes on the battle, helping the pair, and Humbaba is defeated. On his knees, with Gilgamesh’s sword at his throat, Humbaba begs for his life and offers Gilgamesh all the trees in the forest and his eternal servitude. While Gilgamesh is thinking this over, Enkidu intervenes, telling Gilgamesh to kill Humbaba before any of the gods arrive and stop him from doing so. Should he kill Humbaba, he will achieve widespread fame for all the times to come. Gilgamesh, with a great sweep of his sword, removes Humbaba’s head. But before he dies, Humbaba screams out a curse on Enkidu: “Of you two, may Enkidu not live the longer, may Enkidu not find any peace in this world!”

Gilgamesh and Enkidu cut down the cedar forest and in particular the tallest of the cedar trees to make a great cedar gate for the city of Uruk. They build a raft out of the cedar and float down the Euphrates river to their city.
Tablet 6
After these events, Gilgamesh, his fame widespread and his frame resplendent in his wealthy clothes, attracts the sexual attention of the goddess Ishtar, who comes to Gilgamesh and offers to become his lover. Gilgamesh refuses with insults, listing all the mortal lovers that Ishtar has had and recounting the dire fates they all met with at her hands. Deeply insulted, Ishtar returns to heaven and begs her father, the sky-god Anu, to let her have the Bull of Heaven to wreak vengeance on Gilgamesh and his city:

Father, let me have the Bull of Heaven
To kill Gilgamesh and his city.
For if you do not grant me the Bull of Heaven,
I will pull down the Gates of Hell itself,
Crush the doorposts and flatten the door,
And I will let the dead leave
And let the dead roam the earth
And they shall eat the living.
The dead will overwhelm all the living!

Anu reluctantly gives in, and the Bull of Heaven is sent down into Uruk. Each time the bull breathes, its breath is so powerful that enormous abysses are opened up in the earth and hundreds of people fall through to their deaths. Working together again, Gilgamesh and Enkidu slay the mighty bull. Ishtar is enraged, but Enkidu begins to insult her, saying that she is next, that he and Gilgamesh will kill her next, and he rips one of the thighs off the bull and hurls it into her face.
Tablet 7
Enkidu falls ill after having a set of ominous dreams; he finds out from the priests that he has been singled out for vengeance by the gods. The Chief Gods have met and have decided that someone should be punished for the killing of Humbaba and the killing of the Bull of Heaven, so of the two heroes, they decide Enkidu should pay the penalty. Enraged at the injustice of the decision, Enkidu curses the great Cedar Gate built from the wood of the Cedar Forest, and he curses the temple harlot, Shamhat, and the trapper, for introducing him to civilization. Shamhash reminds him that, even though his life has been short, he has enjoyed the fruits of civilization and known great happiness. Enkidu then blesses the harlot and the trapper. In a dream, a great demon comes to take Enkidu and drags him to Hell, a House of Dust where all the dead end up; as he is dying, he describes Hell:

The house where the dead dwell in total darkness,
Where they drink dirt and eat stone,
Where they wear feathers like birds,
Where no light ever invades their everlasting darkness,
Where the door and the lock of Hell is coated with thick dust.
When I entered the House of Dust,
On every side the crowns of kings were heaped,
On every side the voices of the kings who wore those crowns,
Who now only served food to the gods Anu and Enlil,
Candy, meat, and water poured from skins.
I saw sitting in this House of Dust a priest and a servant,
I also saw a priest of purification and a priest of ecstasy,
I saw all the priests of the great gods.
There sat Etana and Sumukan,
There sat Ereshkigal, the queen of Hell,
Beletseri, the scribe of Hell, sitting before her.
Beletseri held a tablet and read it to Ereshkigal.
She slowly raised her head when she noticed me
She pointed at me:
“Who has sent this man?”

Enkidu commends himself to Gilgamesh, and after suffering terribly for twelve days, he finally dies.
Tablet 8
Gilgamesh is torn apart by the death of his friend, and utters a long lament, ordering all of creation to never fall silent in mourning his dead friend. Most of this tablet is missing, but the second half seems to be a description of the monument he builds for Enkidu.
Tablet 9
Gilgamesh allows his life to fall apart; he does not bathe, does not shave, does not take care of himself, not so much out of grief for his friend, but because he now realizes that he too must die and the thought sends him into a panic. He decides that he can’t live unless granted eternal life; he decides to undertake the most perilous journey of all: the journey to Utnapishtim and his wife, the only mortals on whom the gods had granted eternal life. Utnapishtim is the Far-Away, living at the mouth of all rivers, at the ends of the world. Utnapishtim was the great king of the world before the Flood and, with his wife, was the only mortal preserved by the gods during the Flood. After an ominous dream, Gilgamesh sets out. He arrives at Mount Mashu, which guards the rising and the setting of the sun, and encounters two large scorpions who guard the way past Mount Mashu. They try to convince him that his journey is futile and fraught with danger, but still they allow him to pass. Past Mount Mashu is the land of Night, where no light ever appears. Gilgamesh journeys eleven leagues before the light begins to glimmer, after twelve leagues he has emerged into day. He enters into a brilliant garden of gems, where every tree bears precious stones.
Tablet 10
Gilgamesh comes to a tavern by the ocean shore; the tavern is kept by Siduri. Frightened by Gilgamesh’s ragged appearance, Siduri locks the tavern door and refuses to let Gilgamesh in. Gilgamesh proves his identity and asks Siduri how to find Utnapishtim. Like the giant scorpions, she tells him that his journey is futile and fraught with dangers. However, she directs him to Urshanabi, the ferryman, who works for Utnapishtim. Gilgamesh approaches Urshanabi with great arrogance and violence and in the process destroys the “stone things” that are somehow critical for the journey to Utnapishtim. When Gilgamesh demands to be taken to Utnapishtim, the ferryman tells him that it is now impossible, since the “stone things” have been destroyed. Nevertheless, he advises Gilgamesh to cut several trees down to serve as punting poles; the waters they are to cross are the Waters of Death, should any mortal touch the waters, that man will instantly die. With the punting poles, Gilgamesh can push the boat and never touch the dangerous waters.

After a long and dangerous journey, Gilgamesh arrives at a shore and encounters another man. He tells this man that he is looking for Utnapishtim and the secret of eternal life; the old man advises Gilgamesh that death is a necessary fact because of the will of the gods; all human effort is only temporary, not permanent.
Tablet 11
At this point, Gilgamesh realizes that he is talking to Utnapishtim, the Far-Away; he hadn’t expected an immortal human to be ordinary and aged. He asks Utnapishtim how he received immortality, and Utnapishtim tells him the great secret hidden from humans: In the time before the Flood, there was a city, Shuruppak, on the banks of the Euphrates. There, the counsel of the gods held a secret meeting; they all resolved to destroy the world in a great flood. All the gods were under oath not to reveal this secret to any living thing, but Ea (one of the gods that created humanity) came to Utnapishtim’s house and told the secret to the walls of Utnapishtim’s house, thus not technically violating his oath to the rest of the gods. He advised the walls of Utnapishtim’s house to build a great boat, its length as great as its breadth, to cover the boat, and to bring all living things into the boat. Utnapishtim gets straight to work and finishes the great boat by the new year. Utnapishtim then loads the boat with gold, silver, and all the living things of the earth, and launches the boat. Ea orders him into the boat and commands him to close the door behind him. The black clouds arrive, with the thunder god Adad rumbling within them; the earth splits like an earthenware pot, and all the light turns to darkness. The Flood is so great that even the gods are frightened:

The gods shook like beaten dogs, hiding in the far corners of heaven,
Ishtar screamed and wailed:
“The days of old have turned to stone:
We have decided evil things in our Assembly!
Why did we decide those evil things in our Assembly?
Why did we decide to destroy our people?
We have only just now created our beloved humans;
We now destroy them in the sea!”
All the gods wept and wailed along with her,
All the gods sat trembling, and wept.

The Flood lasts for seven days and seven nights, and finally light returns to the earth. Utnapishtim opens a window and the entire earth has been turned into a flat ocean; all humans have been turned to stone. Utnapishtim then falls to his knees and weeps.

Utnapishtim’s boat comes to rest on the top of Mount Nimush; the boat lodges firmly on the mountain peak just below the surface of the ocean and remains there for seven days. On the seventh day:

I [Utnapishtim] released a dove from the boat,
It flew off, but circled around and returned,
For it could find no perch.
I then released a swallow from the boat,
It flew off, but circled around and returned,
For it could find no perch.
I then released a raven from the boat,
It flew off, and the waters had receded:
It eats, it scratches the ground, but it does not circle around and return.
I then sent out all the living things in every direction and sacrificed a sheep on that very spot.

The gods smell the odor of the sacrifice and begin to gather around Utnapishtim. Enlil, who had originally proposed to destroy all humans, then arrives, furious that one of the humans had survived, since they had agreed to wipe out all humans. He accuses Ea of treachery, but Ea convinces Enlil to be merciful. Enlil then seizes Utnapishtim and his wife and blesses them:

At one time Utnapishtim was mortal.
At this time let him be a god and immortal;
Let him live in the far away at the source of all the rivers.

At the end of his story, Utnapishtim offers Gilgamesh a chance at immortality. If Gilgamesh can stay awake for six days and seven nights, he, too, will become immortal. Gilgamesh accepts these conditions and sits down on the shore; the instant he sits down he falls asleep. Utnapishtim tells his wife that all men are liars, that Gilgamesh will deny having fallen asleep, so he asks his wife to bake a loaf of bread every day and lay the loaf at Gilgamesh’s feet. Gilgamesh sleeps without ever waking up for six days and seven nights, at which point Utnapishtim wakes him up. Startled, Gilgamesh says, “I only just dozed off for half a second here.” Utnapishtim points out the loaves of bread, showing their states of decay from the most recent, fresh bread, to the oldest, moldy, stale bread that had been laid at his feet on the very first day. Gilgamesh is distraught:

O woe! What do I do now, where do I go now?
Death has devoured my body,
Death dwells in my body,
Wherever I go, wherever I look, there stands Death!

Utnapishtim’s wife convinces the old man to have mercy on him; he offers Gilgamesh in place of immortality a secret plant that will make Gilgamesh young again. The plant is at the bottom of the ocean surrounding the Far-Away; Gilgamesh ties stones to his feet, sinks to the bottom, and plucks the magic plant. But he doesn’t use it because he doesn’t trust it; rather he decides to take it back to Uruk and test it out on an old man first, to make sure it works.

Urshanabi takes him across the Waters of Death. Several leagues inland, Gilgamesh and Urshanabi stop to eat and sleep; while they’re sleeping, a snake slithers up and eats the magic plant (which is why snakes shed their skin) and crawls away. Gilgamesh awakens to find the plant gone; he falls to his knees and weeps:

For whom have I labored? For whom have I journeyed?
For whom have I suffered?
I have gained absolutely nothing for myself,
I have only profited the snake, the ground lion!

The tale ends with Gilgamesh, at the end of his journey standing before the gates of Uruk, inviting Urshanabi to look around and view the greatness of this city, its high walls, its masonwork, and here at the base of its gates, as the foundation of the city walls, a stone of lapis lazuli on which is carved Gilgamesh’s account of his exploits.

There are RULES concerning this behavior. Hold your tongue.