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    The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion

    by Edgar Allan Poe
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    I will bring fire to thee.

    _Euripides - Androm:_

    EIROS.

    WHY do you call me Eiros?

    CHARMION

    So henceforward will you always be called. You must forget too,
    my earthly name, and speak to me as Charmion.

    EIROS.

    This is indeed no dream!

    CHARMION.

    Dreams are with us no more; - but of these mysteries anon. I
    rejoice to see you looking life-like and rational. The film of the
    shadow has already passed from off your eyes. Be of heart and fear
    nothing. Your allotted days of stupor have expired and, to-morrow, I
    will myself induct you into the full joys and wonders of your novel
    existence.

    EIROS.

    True - I feel no stupor - none at all. The wild sickness and the
    terrible darkness have left me, and I hear no longer that mad,
    rushing, horrible sound, like the "voice of many waters." Yet my
    senses are bewildered, Charmion, with the keenness of their
    perception of the new.

    CHARMION.

    A few days will remove all this; - but I fully understand you,
    and feel for you. It is now ten earthly years since I underwent what
    you undergo - yet the remembrance of it hangs by me still. You have
    now suffered all of pain, however, which you will suffer in Aidenn.

    EIROS.

    In Aidenn?


    CHARMION.

    In Aidenn.

    EIROS.

    Oh God! - pity me, Charmion! - I am overburthened with the
    majesty of all things - of the unknown now known - of the speculative
    Future merged in the august and certain Present.

    CHARMION.

    Grapple not now with such thoughts. To-morrow we will speak of
    this. Your mind wavers, and its agitation will find relief in the
    exercise of simple memories. Look not around, nor forward - but back.
    I am burning with anxiety to hear the details of that stupendous
    event which threw you among us. Tell me of it. Let us converse of
    familiar things, in the old familiar language of the world which has
    so fearfully perished.

    EIROS.

    Most fearfully, fearfully! - this is indeed no dream.

    CHARMION.

    Dreams are no more. Was I much mourned, my Eiros?

    EIROS.

    Mourned, Charmion? - oh deeply. To that last hour of all, there
    hung a cloud of intense gloom and devout sorrow over your household.

    CHARMION.

    And that last hour - speak of it. Remember that, beyond the naked
    fact of the catastrophe itself, I know nothing. When, coming out from
    among mankind, I passed into Night through the Grave - at that
    period, if I remember aright, the calamity which overwhelmed you was
    utterly unanticipated. But, indeed, I knew little of the speculative
    philosophy of the day.

    EIROS.

    The individual calamity was as you
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