Shamhat dressed Enkidu in one of her robes, took him by the hand like a child, and led him out of the wild.
They came to the huts of the shepherds, who crowded about him in awe. “What an enormous man!” they whispered. “He is like Gilgamesh, tall, broad, muscles like stone.”
They set out beer and bread on their shared table, seating him on a stool so that he might partake. Enkidu stared, dumbfounded, from the low stool, having not seen human food, and not knowing what to do.
Shamhat, by his side like a mother, said, “Eat Enkidu, suck the beer through the straw. So do we humans eat and drink.”
With keen suspicion, he nibbled at the bread, then ate a piece, then a loaf, then another, eating until he was full. He drank seven vats of beer, until his liver was happy, his face glowed, and he gave himself over to joyful song.*
Shamhat cut his hair. He washed, was anointed with oil, and joined human kind. Anointed and shinning, he looked handsome as a husband-to-be.
When the shepherds took their rest, Enkidu went out with sword and spear, chasing lions and wolves into the night, guarding the flocks, standing vigilant, awake while the shepherds slept.**
Notes
*Sumerian drinking was done through straws from a communal pot or vat. To a large extent alcohol was the glue that held such agrarian cultures together. The seven vats of beer evoke the week, probably the number of vessels that would be consumed by a family throughout the week during their evening meals. Seven was a sacred number of great significance. Notably there are only six books in the story of Gilgamesh, possibly marking the following age as a seventh chapter in the sacred story, as either a nadir or apogee, depending on the reader’s view of Gilgamesh as a descendent spiritual figure or an ascendant materialistic one.
**Enkidu is transforming from the mythic, indigenous ancestor, to the vigilant man as sentinel, symbolizing the small, elite warrior class, whose ancient hunting heritage is preserved in the act of keeping the natural world at bay as shepherd to them all while the citizens lay enwrapped in their womanly dreams.
I always heard the gods killed him, turns out it was woman, beer, and overworked, sounds like a redneck mule to me.