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"The horrid deed is done! Here, cold and mute, wrapped in the icy cloak of death, the Master sleeps. No more the pageantry and pomp of power. No more the crowd of craftsmen hastening to do his deep designs. No more the temple rising proudly from the hills and beckoning the heavens to rest upon its stately columns. No more will this, his high ambition, gratify. Oh death untimely! Yet, oh timely death! Wrested from life while fresh his honors clustered, before the fetid breath of calumny had marred the splendor of his name, or slander smirched the worth of his achievements. He has fallen, yielding up life rather than break his vow. Surrendering all - all that the world holds dear; life, power, riches, everything; but holding fast to his Masonic secret. Oh, rare integrity! Oh, fortitude most grand! To him in future years will countless thousands raise their songs of praise, and laud his name who death preferred than faithless prove, than trust betray. Yet, though well kept, his secret stands revealed. I read it thus: the Masonic secret is in these words contained: Truth, Honor, Fortitude. But Hark! The tuneful bell rings out the hour of meeting. My comrades come. Now must we hasten away, bearing our heavy burden of remorse."
Soliloquy Number Two Tis yonder from Mount Moriah I have come, filled with soulful remorse, not knowing whether it is better to tarry or to flee. But, hist! I am nearing the spot of the present concealment of the body, after having prepared a place to hide more completely from human sight forever the victim of our crime. Dreaming visions of the past, the present and the future are flying through my distracted brain; but I will tarry here and await the appointed hour, for the horrid deed is done!
But, hark! The tuneful bells ring out the hour of meeting; but where are my accomplices in crime? Oh, ye Gods! Must I alone, in the gloom of the midnight hour, in ghostly presence come? |