thee.  There is a plant similar to the hawthorn in its flower, and whose thorns prick like the viper.  If thy hand can lay hold of that plant without being torn, break from it a branch, and bear it with thee; it will secure for thee an eternal youth.’Gilgames gathers the branch, and in his joy plans with Arad-Ea future enterprises:  ’Arad-Ea, this plant is the plant of renovation, by which a man obtains life; I will bear it with me to Uruk the well-protected, I will cultivate a bush from it, I will cut some of it, and its name shall be, “the old man becomes young by it;” I will eat of it, and I shall repossess the vigour of my youth.’” He reckoned without the gods, whose jealous minds will not allow men to participate in their privileges.  The first place on which they set foot on shore, “he perceived a well of fresh water, went down to it, and whilst he was drawing water, a serpent came out of it, and snatched from him the plant, yea—­the serpent rushed out and bore away the plant, and while escaping uttered a malediction.  That day Gilgames sat down, he wept, and his tears streamed down his cheeks he said to the mariner Arad-Ba:  ’What is the use, Arad-Ea, of my renewed strength; what is the use of my heart’s rejoicing in my return to life?  It is not myself I have served; it is this earthly lion I have served.  Hardly twenty leagues on the road, and he for himself alone has already taken possession of the plant.  As I opened the well, the plant was lost to me, and the genius of the fountain took possession of it:  who am I that I should tear it from him?’” He re-embarks in sadness, he re-enters Uruk the well-protected, and at length begins to think of celebrating the funeral solemnities of Eabani, to whom he was not able to show respect at the time of his death.  He supervises them, fulfils the rites, intones the final chant:  “The temples, thou shalt enter them no more; the white vestments, thou shalt no longer put them on; the sweet-smelling ointments, thou shalt no longer anoint thyself with them to envelop thee with their perfume.  Thou shalt no longer press thy bow to the ground to bend it, but those that the bow has wounded shall surround thee; thou no longer holdest thy sceptre in thy hand, but spectres fascinate thee; thou no longer adornest thy feet with wings, thou no longer givest forth a sound upon the earth.  Thy wife whom thou lovedst thou embracest her no more; thy wife whom thou hatedst thou beatest her no more.  Thy daughter whom thou lovedst thou embracest her no more; thy daughter whom thou hatedst, thou beatest her no more.  The resounding earth lies heavy upon thee, she who is dark, she who is dark, Tjinazu the mother, she who is dark, whose side is-not veiled with splendid vestments, whose bosom, like a new-born animal, is not covered.  Eabani has descended from the earth to Hades; it is not the messenger of Nergal the implacable who has snatched him away, it is not the plague which has carried him off, it is not consumption that has carried him off, it is the