              Tristan and Isolt - The Burning Heart
An Address presented to the Brethren and
Officers of Lafayette-Dupont Lodge # 19
F.A.A.M. in Washington, D.C. on January 13,
1994 by Brother Gary David Alexander Colby.

                                I
George Washington...
Adolph Hitler...
Martin Luther King...
David Koresh...
     What do these men have in common?
     Each of them was an inspirational leader.  Each had a
dream - a mission - and pursued it passionately and constantly.
     Each of them, that is, possessed a burning heart.  Their
fervent beliefs energized their lives.  That burning heart
reflected in the eyes of others and provided them warmth.  The
circle of light thrown from their burning hearts lighted the way
for the men who followed them and advanced their causes.  The
sparks thrown from their burning hearts ignited the hearts of
other men and inspired them to further their common dream.
     What separates Adolph Hitler and David Koresh from George
Washington and Martin Luther King?  Hitler and Koresh possessed
hearts which burned every bit as brightly as Washington's &
King's.  The difference is that Washington and King possessed not
only burning hearts, but also the ability to balance their
fervency with restraint; to limit their passions with
forbearance.  Hitler's & Koresh's burning hearts were little more
than wildfires - out of control.  Their lack of control - their
inability to balance passion and restraint - their inability to
regulate the height of their flames - led to the ultimate
destruction of their dreams.

                               II
     George Washington was hailed as a hero and, after leading
his nation to independence, was offered the office of King of the
United States.  Had he accepted the title, he would have become a
legend such stature as Julius Caesar.  From such an office,
Washington could have imposed his will and achieved all of his
desires by simply expressing them.  It would have been a position
of nearly unlimited power.  But Washington saw that the creation
of an American monarchy would destroy all of the dreams that he
had struggled for.  Rather than seizing glory and fame,
Washington declined the kingship.
     Martin Luther King also understood the necessity of limiting
the burning heart and balancing its influence with restraining
wisdom.  He recognized the equality of all men and the injustice
of treating equal persons unequally.  The most dramatic and, at
least in some sense, the easiest way to demand equal rights would
have been a campaign of violence.  The beginnings of another
civil war, if you will.  But King realized that violence, like
fire, is nearly impossible to recapture once it is set loose. 
Recognizing this, King strictly limited himself and his followers
to non-violent methods.  King's dream is still alive, and is
being worked toward.  Because of his influence and his example,
non-violence is the rule of the movement for equal rights, and
violence is the exception.
     Both Hitler and Koresh, however, only sought their dreams. 
They did not try to restrain themselves, but used any and every
means at their disposal to try to achieve their ends.  Hitler
murdered and imprisoned his enemies, and went to war to seize
what he wanted.  Koresh used in brainwashing and megalomania to
seize followers, and went so far as to presume himself to be a
spokesman for God.  Both Hitler and Koresh ultimately failed
because they considered no action too unreasonable to undertake. 
They would not limit their desires.  They would not keep their
passions within due bounds.

                               III
     What is my message so far?  That we should be like George
Washington and Martin Luther King and not like Adolph Hitler and
David Koresh?  I think we all knew that before we came here
tonight.  But how exactly should we do this?  Jesse, how do you
plan to be more like George Washington?  Pierre, how do you plan
to be less like David Koresh?  These questions are very difficult
to answer because they are too abstract.  We don't have the kind
of personal experiences that a George Washington or a David
Koresh had.  My purpose, then, tonight, is to pose the question
of how we can properly limit our desires and restrain our
passions while still striving fervently and zealously toward the
goals we have chosen - and I want to do it by using an experience
that each one of us has experienced - the experience of love.
     I am going to tell you a story of love - that noble emotion. 
Love's a funny thing, though; it's both an action and a goal - an
end and a means, if you will.  As such, it can be extraordinarily
difficult to control.  Let's see how our lovers do...

                               IV
     The story I am going to tell you is called Tristan and
Isolt.  The original author of the story is unknown; the version
I will refer to was written by Gottfried von Strassburg.  It was
written in, and takes place in, the Middle Ages - back when
knights and dragons roamed about.  The story is too long to tell
in its entirety, so I'll summarize it as best I can.
     Tristan and his good friend Mark grew up and were educated
together.  When they were grown, the two separated.  Mark became
King of England, and Tristan became a knight.  Tristan performed
many valorous, knightly deeds and became widely-known as the best
knight in all England.  Mark, meanwhile, had a perennial problem: 
every year, the King of Ireland sent his best knight, Morold, to
King Mark's court to demand tribute and slaves.  Since none of
King Mark's knights could ever defeat Morold, the tribute and
slaves were taken every year.
     Finally, one year, Tristan heard of Mark's predicament, and
appeared at his court when Morold came.  Tristan challenged and
fought with Morold.  After a tremendous battle, Tristan dealt so
great a blow to Morold that a piece of Tristan's sword lodged in
Morold's skull.  Morold fell dead, and his attendants returned to
Ireland with his body and without tribute or slaves.  During the
fight, Tristan's thigh was wounded by Morold's sword.  Although
the wound was not otherwise serious, Morold's blade had been
treated with a powerful poison.  The efficacy of the poison was
so great that only the foremost medical expert of the time could
heal it.  The problem was that this expert was the Queen of
Ireland, whose husband had sent Morold, and whose daughter,
Isolt, was engaged to marry Morold.  The Queen of Ireland would
almost certainly refuse to treat Sir Tristan, the knight who had
slain him.
     Tristan went to Ireland anonymously.  The people he met were
so impressed with his musical talents that he was eventually
brought to the royal palace.  There, the Queen, touched by
Tristan's music, cured his wound.  Out of gratitude, Tristan
agreed to teach music to the Queen's daughter.  Thus Tristan and
Isolt first met and fell in love.
     In due time, Tristan returned to England, still unknown to
his Irish friends, or even to his dear Isolt, as the slayer of
Morold.  King Mark was without a wife, and, as he was beginning
to pass his prime years, his friends and advisors were worried
that there would be no heir to the throne.  The kingdom was
searched far and wide for a bride for Mark, but none could be
found who would satisfy him.  Mark's loyal friend, Tristan told
him about Isolt when he returned to Mark's court.  Isolt was more
beautiful and more graceful than any other maiden Tristan had
ever heard of - the only woman he could think of who was fit to
be the bride of his friend and sovereign, Mark.  King Mark,
enchanted by Tristan's descriptions, sent him and a party of men
to Ireland to win Isolt's hand in marriage for king Mark.
     Tensions between the two kingdoms was still high because of
the Morold affair, so the party did not dare land in Ireland. 
Instead, most of the party stayed in a ship off the shore of
Ireland, and Tristan ventured forth alone.
     Ireland was being ravaged by a fierce dragon at that time,
and the King of Ireland was offering his daughter's (that is,
Isolt's) hand in marriage to anyone who could defeat the dragon. 
A great many knights tried and failed, but Tristan was able to
kill the dragon.  He cut out the dragon's tongue as proof, and
put it into his jacket.  However, the poison in the tongue was so
great that it overcame Tristan.  Tristan eventually reached the
castle of the King of Ireland and proved that he had killed the
dragon.  While Isolt and her mother, the Queen of Ireland, were
treating Tristan's poisoning, they discovered his sword, which
matched precisely with the flake they had found in Morold's
skull.  Even though she hated Tristan for killing her fiancee,
Morold, Isolt was given to him to be his bride.  Out of loyalty
to his friend King Mark, Tristan accepted Isolt's betrothal only
in King Mark's name.  Isolt would be the bride of Mark.
     Isolt was brought to the ship, and the journey to England
commenced.  While en route, Tristan and Isolt once again fell in
love, with the aid of a love potion.  This potion had been
prepared by Isolt's mother to forever cement the bond between
Isolt and her husband-to-be, King Mark.  By accident, Tristan and
Isolt shared the potion and became deeply and forevermore in
love.  They shared company all the way to England, where, upon
reaching King Mark's court, they parted, with sorrow in their
hearts for the duty to which they were bound.
     King Mark and Isolt were married, but the love between
Tristan and Isolt withered not, but became ever more intense. 
After a series of trysts, each of which raised further the
suspicion of King Mark and his kingdom, Tristan and Isolt ran off
together to a grotto in the forest, where they lived together in
bliss for a time.
     One day while hunting, King Mark came upon their grotto and
discovered Tristan and Isolt together, deep in sleep.  When they
awoke, they found evidence that they had been discovered, and
knew that for the good of King Mark and of England, Isolt must
return to the King and Tristan must go abroad.  The joyous time
they had lived together only increased their sorrow upon this,
their final parting.  Isolt's final words to Tristan highlight
how their passion for one another had melted the two into one. 
She said:
Our hearts and our souls have been too long
and too closely knit together that they may
ever learn forgetfulness.  Whether thou art
far or near, in my heart shall be nothing
living save Tristan alone - my love and life. 
Body and soul have been thine this long
while; see that no other woman ever separate
thee from me, so that our love and our faith
be not ever steadfast and true as they have
been betwixt us these many years.  And take
thou this ring; let it be a token to thee of
faith and love, that at any time if thou
lovest other than me thou mayest look upon it
and remember how thou abidest in mine heart. 
Think of this parting, how near it goeth to
heart and life!  Remember the many heavy
sorrows I have suffered through thee, and let
none be ever nearer to thee than Isolt! 
Forget me not for the sake of another!  We
two have loved and sorrowed in such true
fellowship unto this time, we should not find
it overhard to keep the same faith even to
death.  Yet methinks 'tis needless to remind
thee thus.  If Isolt were ever one heart and
one faith with Tristan, that is she now, that
must she ever be.  Yet would I fain make one
prayer to the:  whatever land thou seekest,
have a care for thyself- my life; for if I be
robbed of that, then am I, thy life, undone. 
And myself, thy life, will I for thy sake,
not for mine, guard with all care.  For thy
body and thy life, that know I well, they
rest on me.  Now bethink thee well of me, thy
body Isolt.  Let me see my life in thee, if
it may well be so, and see thou thy life in
me!  Thou guardest the life of both.  Now
come hither and kiss me.  Tristan and Isolt,
thou and I, we twain are but one being,
without distinction or difference.  This kiss
shall be a seal that I thine, and thou mine,
remain even to death but one Tristan and one
Isolt!

     Thereupon they parted.  Tristan went to France, and Isolt
returned to the side of King Mark.  Tristan, still a great
knight, continued to perform many valorous deeds.  Although he
never loved any other woman than Isolt, he was caused to marry
another for political reasons.  This woman, named "Isolt of the
White Hand," resented greatly that Tristan did not bestow on her
the services of a husband, but had only heart for Isolt.
     One day, Tristan fell deathly ill.  So great was his
sickness that none could cure him.  Word of his condition reached
the ear of Isolt, who had inherited her mother's gift of the
medical arts.  Unsure whether she would be able to escape England
to attend to Tristan, Isolt sent word to him that she would try
to reach him by ship.  If she were able to be on board, the ship
would bear a white sail, if not, black.  This message reached
Tristan, but also inadvertently reached his wife, Isolt of the
White Hand.  As the ship approached, Tristan called to his wife,
who stood at the window, and asked what color the sail was. 
"Black as night," she replied.  His hope and love lost, Tristan
died.  Isolt, who was on the ship (which, incidentally, bore a
white sail), rushed to Tristan's bedside and found him dead. 
Overcome with grief, she embraced his body, and with her final
breath, exhaled her love and her life.
     Legend has it that the two were buried beside one another,
and that the rose bushes planted above each of their graves
intertwined so completely that no one could ever separate them.

                                V
     Even as poorly as I have presented their story, it is
difficult not to be impressed with the love of Tristan and Isolt. 
However, the love they both craved was the death of them both. 
How could so pure an emotion as love be so poisonous?  Like
Hitler and Koresh, Tristan and Isolt were wildfires - out of
control.  The love potion which took control of both their lives
extinguished all else but love.  In the sense that they could not
control their love, their love was cheapened.  They did not,
indeed, could not balance love and duty.  They did not keep their
passions within due bounds.  They paid for it with their lives.
     Precisely what should Tristan and Isolt have done?  I don't
know.  Perhaps this is something that each of us might reflect
upon as we travel home tonight.

                               VI
     I would like to give you an example of what I might consider
"properly balanced love."  I would like to, but I can't.  Love is
so personal an emotion that I wouldn't presume to understand your
love or how you might control it - or how anyone might, for that
matter.  The best I can do is to give you an example of love that
appeals to me.  Though I take the words out of context, I can
think of no words that a man and a woman could share that are a
more pure expression of balanced love than the words spoken by
Ruth, in the Old Testament book of the same name:
And Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave thee,
or to return from following after thee: for
whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou
lodgest, I will lodge:  thy people shall be
my people, and thy God my God:

Where thou diest, will I die, and there will
I be buried:  the Lord do so to me, and more
also, if ought but death part thee and me.
                              (Ruth 1:16-17)

     Ruth expresses a desire and an intention always to be with
her beloved, and yet retains control of herself.  What could be a
greater gift to another than to knowingly and intelligently
commit yourself to your lover.  Contrast this with Tristan and
Isolt's unthinking surrender to love.

                               VII
     In Masonry, the lessons I have been discussing tonight are
taught by a single instrument, the compasses.  We learn from the
compasses that we must circumscribe our desires and keep our
passions within due bounds.
     [Hold up compasses]
Two lessons - one instrument.
     In operative masonry, the compasses also has two uses:  to
trace outlines and boundaries, and to balance proportions.  There
are three steps to tracing a boundary.  First, you must plant one
end of the compasses.
     [Demonstrate by planting one end of the compasses in plain
view]
Next, you set the radius.
     [Again, demonstrate by setting the radius of the free leg of
     the compasses]
  Finally, you draw the boundary.
     [Demonstrate - trace circle]
     Symbolically, the drawing of boundaries also consists of
three steps.  First, like planting one point, we must decide what
our goal is - what mission we want to achieve.
     [Demonstrate as before, planting one leg]
This will be the basis for our actions.  Next, like setting the
radius, we must decide how far we will allow ourselves to go.
     [Demonstrate - set radius]
What behavior will we allow ourselves to engage in and what
behavior will we not allow?  By knowing to what lengths we will
allow ourselves to go, we are ready to define the limits of our
actions.  Finally, like drawing a boundary, we must actually
bound our actions.
     [Demonstrate - trace circle]
We must go no farther than we have allowed ourselves.  Since we
are bounding our own actions, only we can draw this boundary.
     Therein lies the moral of the story I told you tonight -
Tristan and Isolt did not control their own compasses.  They
surrendered control to the love potion and to one another. 
Unable to understand the other as they understood themself, each
drew boundaries for the other.  Since each controlled the
compasses of the other, not only did their circles never again
meet, but the boundaries they drew for one another were so ill-
fitted that each died as a result.
     Ruth, on the other hand, always keeps her own hand on her
compasses.  She sets her boundaries and her center.  She can
knowingly and willingly interlock her circle with that of her
beloved.  If both she and her beloved always control their own
compasses, they may see that their circles are always together.

                              VIII
     The compasses were used in operative masonry for a second
purpose - to balance proportions.  This was done by deciding on
the proportions desired between two items, measuring one item,
and then setting the measurements of the second item accordingly. 
For example, I may decide that I want a make a book twice as tall
as it is wide.  By measuring the base of the book, I can
determine what the height should be by marking off two measures,
like this.
     [Demonstrate by spreading the compasses as wide as the base
     of a book and then measuring off two equal units of height
     by flipping compasses once.]
     Symbolically, we may adjust the proportions of our emotions
and thus keep them within due bounds.  To do this, we must decide
what proportion of passion to restraint we want.  By measuring
our passions with our moral compasses, we may become aware of how
much restraint we need.

                               IX
     By observing the lessons of the compasses, we may restrain
our desires and keep our passions within due bounds.  Despite all
of my talk about limitations and boundaries, I have neglected to
talk about another vital component of one's life - fervency. 
     Boundaries are useless unless filled.  If we are to draw
boundaries restraining our actions, we must see to it that the
light thrown from our burning hearts extends right to the edge of
those boundaries.  We must fervently and zealously live our
lives, doing everything we possibly can to achieve our goals,
bounded only by limitations that we have ourselves drawn.

                                X
     The challenge for each of us, then, is to set wise
boundaries, to balance our passions with restraint, and to work
so fervently as to fill those boundaries.  By doing so, we may
hope to attain the respect so rightfully accorded men like George
Washington and Martin Luther King.




Notes:
The author would appreciate it if anyone enjoying the speech
would pass a copy along to anyone else who might be interested in
it.  The original copy of this speech may be found in the records
of Lafayette-Dupont Lodge # 19, F.A.A.M., 330 Pennsylvania
Avenue, S.E., Washington, D.C. 20001.  Any correspondence
intended for the author should be sent to this address.





                        About the Author

Dr. Gary David Alexander Colby wrote and
delivered this speech while he was a law
student at Georgetown University.  He had
previously earned his Ph.D. in anaerobic
microbiology and a bachelor's degree in
chemical engineering at Virginia Polytechnic
Institute and State University at Blacksburg,
Virginia.
     In Blacksburg, Dr. Colby was initiated,
passed, and raised to the sublime degree of
Master Mason in Hunter's Lodge #156, A.F.&
A.M.  In December of 1993, he became
affiliated with Lafayette-Dupont Lodge # 19
F.A.A.M., in Washington, D.C.  This speech
was delivered in that lodge in January of
1994, during which year Dr. Colby served as
Senior Steward of the lodge.
