The man whom thou hast brought is covered with sores.
The eruption on his skin has destroyed the beauty of his body.
Take him, O Ardi-Ea, to the place of purification,
To wash his sores in the water, that he may become white as snow.
Let the ocean carry off the eruption on his skin,
That his body may become pure.[991]
Let his turban be renewed and the garment that covers his nakedness.
Ardi-Ea carries out these instructions and Gilgamesh at last is healed. The hero is now ready to return to his land. But though returning in restored health, he is not proof against death. Parnapishtim, at the suggestion of his wife, reveals the 'secret of life' to Gilgamesh just before the latter's departure. The ship is brought nearer to the shore, and Parnapishtim tells Gilgamesh of a plant that wounds as a thistle, but which possesses wonderful power. Gilgamesh departs on the ship, and with the help of Ardi-Ea finds this plant, which is called 'the restoration of old age to youth.' It is a long journey to the place. The plant grows at the side or at the bottom of a fountain. Gilgamesh secures it, but scarcely have his hands grasped the plant when it slips out of his hand and is snatched away by a demon that takes on the form of a serpent. All is lost! Gilgamesh sits down and weeps bitter tears. He pours out his woe to Ardi-Ea, but there is nothing left except to return to Uruk. He reaches the city in safely. His mission—the search for immortality—has failed. Though healed from his disease, the fate of mankind—old age and death—is in store for him. With the return to Uruk the eleventh tablet ends. It but remains, before passing on, to note that the narrative of the deluge in this tablet is connected with the character of the eleventh month, which is called the 'month of rain.' We may conclude from this that the mythological element in the story—the annual overflow—predominates the local incident of the destruction of Shurippak. Gilgamesh, we must bear in mind, has nothing to do with either the local tale or the myth, except to give to both an interpretation that was originally foreign to the composite narrative.
In the twelfth tablet—which is in large part obscure—we find Gilgamesh wandering from one temple to the other, from the temple of Bel to that of Ea, lamenting for Eabani, and asking, again and again, what has become of his companion. What has been his fate since he was taken away from the land of the living? The hero, now convinced, as it seems, that death will come to him, and reconciled in a measure to his fate, seeks to learn another secret,—the secret of existence after death. He appeals to the gods of the nether world to grant him at least a sight of Eabani. Nergal, the chief of this pantheon, consents.
... he opened the earth,