Mythos: A Retelling of the Myths of Ancient Greece

A little flustered by this, Eos pressed on. ‘Yes, dread lord. You know how it is when we consort with a mortal youth …’ she allowed herself a look towards Ganymede, who was standing behind Zeus’s throne, ever ready to refill his cup of nectar. At her glance Ganymede smiled and dropped his gaze, blushing prettily.

‘Yes … and?’ Zeus had started drumming his fingers on the arm of his throne. Never a good sign.

‘One day Thanatos will come for my Prince Tithonus and that I can not bear. I ask that you grant him immortality.’

‘Oh. Do you? Immortality, eh? That’s all? Immortality. Hm. Yes, I don’t see why not. Immunity from death. That really is all you want for him?’

‘Why, yes, lord, that is all.’

What else could there be? Had she caught him in a good mood? Her heart began to leap with delight.

‘Granted,’ said Zeus clapping his hands. ‘From this moment on, your Tithonus is immortal.’

Eos sprang from her prostrate position of supplication with a squeal of joy and rushed forward to kiss Zeus’s hand. He seemed mightily pleased too and laughed and smiled as he accepted her thanks.

‘No, no. Such a pleasure. I’m sure you’ll be coming back to thank me soon enough.’

‘Of course, if you would like me to?’ It seemed an odd request.

‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll be along before we know it,’ said Zeus, still unable to stop himself from grinning. He didn’t know what had planted the imp of mischief in his mind. But we know it was the curse of Aphrodite doing its implacable work.

Eos hurried back to the Palace of the Sun where her adored spouse was waiting patiently for her return. When she told him the news he hugged her and hugged her and they danced around the palace making so much noise that Helios banged on the walls and grumbled that some people had to be up before dawn.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Eos bore Tithonus two sons: EMATHION, who was to rule Arabia, and MEMNON, who grew up to become one of the greatest and most feared warriors in all the ancient world.

One evening, Tithonus lay with his head in Eos’s lap while she idly twisted his golden hair around her fingers. She was humming softly but broke off with a sudden hiss of surprise.

‘What is it, my love?’ murmured Tithonus.

‘You trust me, don’t you, darling one?’

‘Always and entirely.’

‘I am going away tomorrow afternoon. I shall return as soon as I can. Do not ask me where or why I going.’

‘Haven’t we had this conversation before?’

Her destination was Olympus and another audience with Zeus.

‘Ha! I said you’d be back, didn’t I? Didn’t I, Ganymede? What were my very words to you, Eos?’

‘You said, “I’m sure you’ll be coming back to thank me soon enough.” ’

‘So I did. What’s this you’re showing me?’

Eos’s hand was outstretched towards Zeus. She was holding something between trembling rosy forefinger and trembling rosy thumb. It was a single filament of silver.

‘Look!’ she said in throbbing accents.

Zeus peered down. ‘Looks like a hair.’

‘It is a hair. It came from my Tithonus’s head. It is grey.’

‘And?’

‘My lord! You promised me. You swore that you would grant Tithonus immortality.’

‘And so I did.’

‘Then how do you explain this?’

‘Immortality was the boon you asked for and immortality was the boon I granted. You didn’t say anything about ageing. You never requested eternal youth.’

‘I … you … but …’ Eos staggered backwards, appalled. This could not be!

‘ “Immortality” you said. Isn’t that right, Ganymede?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘But I assumed … I mean, isn’t it obvious what I meant?’

‘Sorry, Eos,’ said Zeus, rising. ‘I can’t be expected to interpret everyone’s requests. He won’t die. That’s the thing. You’ll always be together.’

Eos was left alone, her hair wiping the floor as she wept.

The Grasshopper

The faithful Tithonus and their two bouncing children welcomed Eos back on her return. She did everything she could to hide her woe, but Tithonus sensed something was distressing her. When the boys had been put down to sleep for the night he took her through to the balcony and poured her a cup of wine. They sat and watched the stars for a while before he spoke.

‘Eos, my love, my life. I know what it is that you aren’t telling me. I can see it for myself. The looking glass tells me every morning.’

‘Oh Tithonus!’ she buried her head against his chest and sobbed her heart out.

Time passed. Each morning Eos did her duty and opened the doors to a new day. The boys grew up and left home. The years succeeded each other with the remorseless inevitability that even gods cannot alter.

What scant hair that remained on Tithonus’s head was now white. He had become most dreadfully wrinkled, shrunken and weak with extreme old age, yet he could not die. His voice, once so mellow and sweet to the ear had become a harsh, dry scrape of a sound. His skin and frame were so shrivelled that he could barely walk.