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This tragedy was accepted at Drury-Lane theatre in 1739, and, during the rehearsals, excited great expecta lions of success; a prohibitory order from the lord chamberlain, however, deprived the author of his expected laurels on the stage, but rendered his production so popular, that, on its publication the same year, not less thao a thousand pounds are said to have been the clear produce. The present ministry allowed its representation in 1805, when Master Betty attempted the character of Gustavus.

The genuine lover of liberty will here meet with those noble principles of action which elevate humanity and have expanded the energies of free minds in free countries ; but it cannot be concealed, that the play is deficient in interest, bustle, and incidents for the prevailing dramatic taste. The following extract will furnish the plot :"Gustavus I. king of Sweden, known by the name of Gustavus Vasa, was born in 1490. He was the son of Eric Vasa, Duke of Gripsholm, and descended from the ancient kings of Sweden. Christiern II. king of Denmark, having got Gustavus into his hands, in the war in which he reduced Sweden, kept him several years prisoner at Copen. hagen. He, at length, made his escape, and having prevailed on the Dalecarlians to throw off the Danish yoke, he put himself at their head."- Modern Universal History.




.Master Betty.

Mr. Jefferies.
Mr. Murray. OFFICER,...

Mr. Treby.
.Mr. Johnston.
Mr. Brunton. CHRISTINA,....

Mrs. H. Johnston.
Mr. Claremont. AUGUSTA,....

Mrs. Si. Ledger.
.Mr. Bennett. GUSTAVA,.....

Miss Brunton
..Mr. Chapman. MARIANA,.

Mrs. Humphries
.Mr. Cresswell.
Soldiers, Peasants, Messengers, and Attendants.
SCENE.—Dalecarlia, a Northern Province in Sweden.


Behold him stretch'd, where reigns eternal night,

The flint his pillow, and cold damps his cov'ring SCENE I.— The inside of the Copper Mines in Yet, bold of spirit, and robust of limb, Dalecarlia,

He throws inclemency aside, nor feels Enter ANDERSON and Arnoldus.-GUSTAVUS The lot of human frailty. lying down in the distance.

And. What horrors hang around! the savage And. You tell me wonders. Arn. Soft, behold, my lord

Ne'er hold their den but where some glimmering [Points to GustavUS.



May bring the cheer of morn-What then is he ? | The truest, worthiest, noblest, cause of friendship His dwelling marks a secret in his soul,

Dearer than life, than interest, or alliance, And whispers somewhat more than man about And equal to your virtues. him.

And. Say

-urfold. Arn. Draw but the veil of his apparent wretch- Gust. Art thou a soldier, a chief lord in Sweden, edness,

And yet a stranger to thy country's voice, And you shall find, his form is but assum'd, That loudly calls the hidden patriot forth! To hoard some wondrous treasure, lodg‘d within. But what's a soldier? What's a lord in Sweden ? And. Let him bear up to what thy praises speak All worth is fled, or fallen-nor has a life him,

Been spar'd, but for dishonour; spar'd to breed And I will win him, spite of his reserve,

More slaves for Denmark, to beget a race Bind him with sacred friendship to my soul, Of new-born virgins for th' unsated lust And make him half myself.

Of our new masters.—Sweden! thou 'rt no more! Arn. 'Tis nobly promised;

Queen of the North ! thy land of liberty, For worth is rare, and wants a friend in Sweden; | Thy house of heroes, and thy seat of virtues, And yet I tell thee, in her age of heroes, Is now the tomb where thy brave sons lie speechWhen, nursed by freedom, all her sons grew great,

less. And every peasant was a prince in virtue,

And. O 'tis true. I greatly ert; or this abandon'd stranger

But wherefore? To what purpose ? Had stepp'd the first for fame—though now he Gist. Think of Stockholm! seeks

When Christiern seiz’d upon the hour of peace, To veil his name, and cloud his shine of virtues ; And drench'd the hospitable floor with blood; For there is danger in them.

Then fell the flower of Sweden, mighty names ! And. True, Arnoldus.

Her hoary senators, and gasping patriots ! Were there a prince throughout the sceptred globe, The tyrant spoke, and his licentious band Who search d out merit for its due preferment, Of blood-train d ministry were loos’d to ruin. With half that care our tyrant seeks it out Husbands, sons, and sires, For ruin, -happy, happy were that state, With dying ears drank in the loud despair Beyond the golden fable of those pure

Of shrieking chastity. Is there a cause for this ? And earliest ages

For sin without temptation, calm, cool villany, When came this stranger hither?

Deliberate mischief, unimpassion'd lust, Arn. Six moons have chang'd upon the face of And smiling murder? Lie thou there, my soul, night,

Sleep, sleep upon it, image not the form Since here he first arrivd, in servile weeds, Of any dream but this, 'till time grows pregnant, But yet of mien majestic. I observ'd him,

And thou canst wake to vengeance. And, ever as I gazd, some nameless charm, And. Thou'st greatly mov'd me.

Ha! thy A wondrous greatness, not to be conceald,

tears start forth. Broke through his form, and aw'd my soul before Yes, let them flow, our country's fate demands him.

them; Amid these mines he earns the hireling's portion; But wherefore talk of vengeance ? 'Tis a word His hands out-loil the hind, while on his brow Should be engraven on the new-fallen snow, Sits patience, bath'd in the laborious drop Where the first beam may melt it from observance. Of painful industry.-oft have sought, Vengeance on Christiern? Norway and the Dane, With friendly tender of some worthier service, The sons of Sweden, all the peopled North, To win him from his temper; but he shuns

Bend at his nod! my humbler boast of power All offers, yet declin'd with graceful act,

Meant not to cope with crowns. Engaging beyond utt'rance; and at eve,

Gust. Then what remains When all retire to some domestic solace, Is briefly this: your friendship has my thanks, He only stays, and, as you see, the earth But must not my acceptance :-nokeceives him to her dark and cheerless bosom. First sink, thou baleful mansion, to the centre ! And. Has no unwary moment e'er betray'd

And be thy darkness doubled round my head; The labours of his soul, some fav’rite grief,

Ere I forsake thee for the bliss of paradise, Whereon to raise conjecture ?

To be enjoy'd beneath a tyrant's sceptre. Arn. I saw, as some bold peasants late deplor'd

And. Nor I, while I can hold it; but, alas! Their country's bondage, sudden passion seiz'd, That is not in our choice. And bore him from his seeming ease; strait his Gust. Why? where's that power, whose enWas turn'd to terror, ruin fill d his eye,

gines are of force And his proud step appear'd to awe the world:

To bend the brave and virtuous man to slavery? But sadness soon usurp'd upon his brow:

He has debauch'd the genius of our country, And the big tear roll'd graceful down his visage. And rides triumphant, while her captive sons And. Forbear-he rises-Heavens, what ma

Await his nod! the silken slaves of pleasure, jesty!

Or fetter'd in their fears.

And. No doubt, a base submission to our wrongs GUSTAVUS comes nes forward.

May well be term'd a voluntary bondage; Your pardon, stranger, if the voice of virtue, But, think, the heavy hand of power is on us; If cordial amity from man to man,

Of power, from whose imprisonment and chains
And somewhat that should whisper to the soul, Not all our free-born virtue can protect us
To seek and cheer the sufferer, led me hither, Gust. 'Tis there you err, for I have felt their
Impatient to salute thee. Be it thine

Alone to point the path of friendship out ; And had I yielded to enlarge these limbs,
And my best power shall await upon thv fortries. Or share the tyrant's empire, on the term
Gust. There is a wondrous test,

Which he propos d—I were a slave indeed.



No in the deep and poisonous damp of dungeons, Gust. I know they're brave.
The soul can rear her sceptre, smile in anguish, Of such the time has need, of hearts like yours,
And triumph o'er oppression.

Faithful and firm, of hands inur'd and strong,
And. O glorious spirit! think not I am slack For we must ride upon the neck of danger,
To relish what thy noble scope intends;

And plunge into a purpose big with death. But then the means, the peril, and the conse- And. Here let us kneel, and bind us to thy side. quence !

Gust. No, hold,

--if we want oaths to join us, Great are the odds, and who shall dare the trial ? Swift let ys part, from pole to pole asunder. Gust. I dare.

A cause like ours is its own sacrament; O wert thou still that gallant chief,

Truth, justice, reason, love, and liberty, Whom once I knew! I could unfold a purpose, Th' eternal links that clasp the world, are in it; Would make the greatness of thy heart to swell, And he, who breaks their sanction, breaks all And burst in the conception.

law, And. Give it utterance.—You say you know me; And infinite connection. But give a tongue to such a cause as this,

Arn. True, my lord. And, if you hold me tardy in the call,

And. And such the force I feel. You know me not.—But thee, I've surely known; Ard. And I. For there is somewhat in that voice and form, Arn. And all. Which has alarm'd my soul to recollection; Gust. Know, then, that ere our royal Stenon fell, But, 'tis as in a dream, and mocks my reach. While this my valiant cousin and myself Gust. Then name the man, whom it is death By chains and treachery lay detained in Denmark, to know,

Upon a dark and unsuspected hour Or, knowing, to conceal—and I am he.

The bloody Christiern sought to take my And. Gustavus! Heavens ! 'T'is he, 'tis he I escap'd, himself!

Led by a generous arn, and some time lay

Conceal'd in Denmark; for my forfeit head Enter ARVIDA, speaking to a SERVANT.

Became the price of crowns, each port and path

Was shut against my passage, 'till I heard Aro. I thank you, friend, he 's here, you may That Stenon, valiant Stenon, fell in battle, retire.

(Erit SERVANT. And freedom was no more. O then what bounds And. Good morning to my noble guest, you're Had power to hem the desp'rate? lo'erpass d them,

early ! [GUSTAVUS walks apart. Travers'd all Sweden, thro' ten thousand foes, Ard. I come to take a short and hasty leave: Impending perils, and surrounding tongues, 'Tis said, that from the mountain's neighb’ring That from himself inquired Gustavus out. brow

Witness, my country, how I toil'd to wake The canvass of a thousand tents appears, Thy sons to liberty! in vain--for fear, Whitening the vale—Suppose the tyrant there; Cold fear, had seiz'd on all.--Here last I came You know my safety lies not in the interview- And shut me from the sun, whose hateful bearis Ha! What is he, who, in the shreds of slavery, Serv'd but to show the ruins of my country. Supports a step, superior to the state

When here, my friends, 'twas here at length 1 And insolence of ermine ?

found, Gust. Sure that voice

What I had left to look for, gallant spirits, Was once the voice of friendship and Arvida! In the rough form of untaught peasantry. Aro. Ha! Yes-- tis helye powers! it is And. Indeed they once were brave; our DaleGustavus !

carlians Gust. Thou brother of adoption ! In the bond Have oft been known to curb despotic sway: Of every virtue wedded to my soul,

And, as their only wealth has been their liberty, Enter my heart: it is thy property.

From all th' unmeasur'd graspings of ambition Arr. I'ın lost in joy and wondrous circumstance. They've held that gem untouchd-though now Gust. Yet, wherefore, my Arvida, wherefore

'tis fear'd

Gust. It is not fear'd say, they still shall That, in a place and at a time like this,

hold it. We should thus meet ? Can Christiern cease I've search'd these men, and find them like the soil, from cruelty ?

Barren without, and to the eye unlovely, say, whence is this, my brother? How escap'd you? But they’ve their minds within ; and this the day, Did I not leave thee in the Danish dungeon ? In which I mean to prove them.

Ard. Of that hereafter. Let me view thee first. Arn. O Gustavus ! How graceful is the garb of wretchedness, Most aptly hast thou caught the passing hour, When worn by virtue ! Fashions turn to folly; Upon whose critical and fated hinge Their colours tarnish, and their pomps grow poor The state of Sweden turns. To her magnificence.

Gust. And to this hour Gust. Yes, my Arvida,

I've therefore held me in this darksome womb, Beyond the sweeping of the proudest train That sends me forth as to a second birth That shades a monarch's heel, I prize this humble Of freedom, or through death to reach eternity. dress,

This day, return'd with every circling year,
For it is sacred to my country's freedom. In thousands pours the mountain peasants forth
A mighty enterprize has been conceiv'd, Each with his batter'd arms and rusty helm,
And thou art come auspicious to the birth, In sportive discipline well train'd and prompt
As sent to fix the seal of Heaven upon it. Against the day of peril—Thus disguised,

Ard. Point but thy purpose-let it be to bleed— Already have I stirr'd their latent sparks
Gust. Your hands, my friends!

Of slumb'ring virtue, apt as I could wish
AU. Our hearts.

To warm before the lightest breath of liberty

is it,



Waste is their wealth, and mutiny their birthright,

Arn. How will they kindle, when, confess'd to Gust. No, on my word. view,

Aro. You too had your deliverer. [friends, Once more their lov'd Gustavus stands before Gust. A kind, but not a fair, one-Well, my them!

Our cause is ripe, and calls us forth to action. Ard. It cannot fail.

Tread ye not lighter ? Swells not every breast And. It has a glorious aspect.

With ampler scope to take your country in, Aro. Now, Sweden! rise and re-assert thy rights, And breathe the cause of virtue? Rise, yo Or be for ever fallen.

Swedes ! And. Then be it so.

Rise greatly equal to this hour's importance. Arn. Lead on, thou arm of war,

On us the eyes of future ages wait, To death or victory.

And this day's close decides our country's fate. Gust. Why thus, my friends, thus join'd in

(Eseunt. such a cause,

ACT II. Are we not equal to a host of slaves ?

SCENE 1.— The Camp. You say, the foe's at hand—Why, let them come; Enter CHRISTIERN, Attendants, &-c. PETERSON Steep are our hills, not easy of access,

meets him. And few the hours we ask for their reception. For I will take these rustic sons of liberty,

Christ. What from Dalecarlia ?
In the first warmth and hurry of their souls;

Peter. Late last night,
And, should the tyrant then attempt our heights, I sent a trusty slave,
He comes upon his fate.- Arise, thou sun!

And hourly wait some tidings.
Haste, haste to rouse thee to the call of liberty,

Christ. Sure That shall once more salute thy morning beam,

The wretches will not dare such quick perdition And hail thee to thy setting.

I cannot think it. Ard. Were it not worth a hazard of a life,

Peter. I think they will not.— Though of old

I know them,
And what his scope intends ? Be mine that task. All born to broils, the very sons of tumult;
Even to the tyrant's tent I'll win my way,
And mingle with his councils.

And this the yearly fever of their blood,
Gust. Go, my friend.

Their holiday of war; a day apart, Dear as thou art, whene'er our country calls,

Torn out from peace, and sacred to rebellion. Friends, sons, and sires, should yield their trea- Oft has their battle hung upon the brow sure up,

Of yon wild steep, a living cloud of mischiefs, Nor own a sense beyond the public safety.

Pregnant with plagues, and empty'd on the heads But, tell me, my Arvida, ere thou goest,

Of many a monarch. Tell me what hand has made thy friend its debtor, Enter Arvida, guarded, and a GENTLEMAN. And given thee up to freedom and Gustavus? Aro. Now, fate I'm caught, and what remains Aro. Ha! let me think of that, 'tis sure she

is obvious.
loves him.

(Aside. Gent. A prisoner, good my lord.
Away, thou skance and jaundic d eye of jealousy, Christ. When taken?
That tempts my soul to sicken at perfection; Gent. Now, even here, before your tent ;
Away! I will unfold it.— To thyself

I mark'd his careless action, but his eye
Arvida owes his freedom.

Of studied observation—then his port Gust. How, my friend?

And base attire ill-suiting-I inquir’d, Arv. Some months are pass'd, since, in the Da- But found he was a stranger. nish dungeon,

Christ. A sullen scorn With care emaciate, and unwholesome damps, Knits up his brow, and frowns upon our presence. Sick’ning I lay, chain'd to my flinty bed, What-ay-thou wouldst be thought a mystery, And call'd on death to ease me-straight a light some greatness in eclipse—whence art thou, slave? Shone round, as when the ministry of Heaven Silent? nay, then-bring forth the torture! Descends to kneeling saints. But, oh! the form A smile! damnation !-How the wretch assumes That pour'd upon my sight.—Ye angels, speak! The wreck of state, the suffering soul of majesty! For ye alone are like her; or present

What, have we no pre-eminence, no claim? Such visions pictured to the nightly eye

Dost thou not know thy life is in our power ? Of fancy tranc'd in bliss. She then approach'd, Aro. 'Tis therefore I despise it. The softest pattern of embodied meekness,

Christ. Matchless insolence! For pity had divinely touch'd her eye,

What art thou ? speak! And harmoniz'd her motions.—Ah, she cried, Ard. Be sure, no friend to thee; for I'm a fua Unhappy stranger, art not thou the man,

to tyrants. Whose virtues have endear'd thee to Gustavus ? Christ. Fiends and fire ! Gust. Gustavus, did she say?

A whirlwind tear thee, most audacious traitor. Aro. Yes.

Aro. Do rage and chase, thy wrath's beneath Loos'd from my bonds, I rose at her command;

me, Christiern. When, scarce recovering speech, I would have How poor thy power, how empty is thy happiness, kneelid,

When such a wretch, as I appear to be, But, haste thee, haste thee for thy life, she cried, Can ride thy temper, harrow up thy form, And oh, if e'er thy envied eyes behold

And stretch thy soul upon the rack of passion ! Thy lov'd Gustavus; say, a gentle foe

Christ. I will know thee !-Bear him hence! Has given thee to his friendship.

Why, what are kings, if slaves can brave us thus? Gust. You've much amaz'd me! is her name a Go, Peterson, hold him to the rack—Tear, search secret? Sting him deep.

[him, Aro. To me it is—but you, perhaps, may guess. (Exit Peterson with Arvida gʻarded


Arvida at the sight; his steps took root, What wouldst thou, fellow ?

A tremor shook him; and his alter'd cheek Mess. O, my sovereign lord,

Now sudden flush 'd, then fled its wonted culour, I ain come fast and far, from even 'till morn,

While with an eager and intemperate look, Five times I've crossd the shade of sleepless night, He bent his form, and hung upon her beauties. Impatient of thy presence.

Christ. Ha! did our daughter note him? Christ. Whence ?

Peter. No, my lord : Mess. From Denmark.

She pass'd regardless. Straight his pride fell from Commended from the consort of thy throne

And at her name he started;

[hin To speed and privacy.

Then heav'd a sigh, and cast a look to heaver, Christ. Your words would taste of terror Of such a mute, yet eloquent, emotion,

Mess. A secret malady, my gracious liege, As seem'd to say—Now, Fate, thou hast prevail, Some factious vapour, rising from off the skirts

And found one way to triumph o'er Arvida! Of southmost Norway, has diffusd its bane,

Christ. But whither would this lead ?
And rages now within the heart of Denmark. Peter. To this, my lord-
Christ. It must not, cannot, 'tis impossible!

While thus his soul 's unseated, shook by passion, What, my own Danes !

Could we engage him to betray Gustavus

Christ. O empty hope! impossible! Enter PETERSON, who kneels and gires a letter. Do I not know him, and the curs d Gustavus? CHRISTIERN reads it.

Both fix'd in resolution deep as hell. Christ. Gustavus !

Peter. Ah, my liege, So near us, and in arms!

[time; No mortal footing treads so firm in virtue, What's to be done ? Now, Peterson, now's the As always to abide the slippery path, Waken all the wondrous statesman in thee. Nor deviate with the bias. Some have few, This curs d Gustavus

But each man has his failing, some defect, Invades my shrinking spirits, awes my heart, Wherein to slide temptation.—Leave him to me And sits upon my slumbers—All in vain

Christ. If thou canst bend this proud one to our Has he been daring, and have I been vigilant;

purpose, He stillevades the hunter,

And make the lion crouch, 'tis well—if not, And, if there's power in heaven or hell, it guards Away at once, and sweep him from remembrance. him.

Peter. Then I must promise deep. His name 's a host, a terror to my legions. Christ. Ay, any thing; outbid ambition. And by my triple crown, I swear, Gustavus, Peter. Love ?I'd rather meet all Europe for my foe,

Christ. Ha ! yes-our daughter too-if she can Than see thy face in arms!

bribe him: Peter. Be calm, my liege,

But then to win him to betray his friend! And listen to a secret big with consequence, Peter. Oh, doubt it not, my lord: for if he loves, That gives thee back the second man on earth As sure he greatly does, I have a stratagern Whose valour could plant fears around thy throne: That holds the certainty of fate within it. Thy prisoner

Love is a passion whose effects are various Christ. What of him?

It ever brings some change upon the soul, Peter. The Prince Arvida.

Some virtue, or some vice, 'till then unknown, Christ. How!

Degrades the hero, and makes cowards valjant. Peter. The same.

Christ. True; when it pours upon a youthful Christ. My royal fugitive!

temper, Peter. Most certain.

[hither. Open and apt to take the torrent in, Christ. Now, then, tis plain who sent him It owns no limits, no restraint it knows, Peter. Yes.

(cross me; But sweeps all down, though Heaven and Hel Pray give me leave, my lord--a thought comes


(Ereunt. If so, he must be ours

(Pauses. Your pardon for a question-Has Arvida

SCENE II.-A Prison.
E’er seen your beauteous daughter, your Christina? Arvida discotered in chains ; Guards preparing

Christ. Never-yes-possibly he might, that day instruments of death and torture.-He adoonides
When the proud pair, Gustavus and Arvida, in confusion.
Through Copenhagen drew a length of chain,

Ard. Off, off, vain cumbrance, ye conflicting And graced my chariot wheels.—But why the

thoughts! question ? Peter. I'll tell you: while even now he stood | Just when I rose above mortality,

Leave me to Heaven.-O peace !-It will not be I mark'd his high demeanour, and my eye

To pour her wondrous weight of charms upon me! Claim'd some remembrance of him, though in At such a time, it was—it was too much?

For every pang these tortur'd limbs shall feel. clouds Doubtful and distant, but a nearer view

Descend in tenfold blessings on Gustavus! (jor,

Yes, bless him, bless him! Crown his hours with Renew'd the characters etfac'd by absence.

His head with glory, and his arms with conquest; Yet, lest he might presume upon a friendship

Set his firm foot upon the neck of tyrants, Of ancient league between us, I dissembled, Nor seem'd to know him. On he proudly strode, That breathes through Sweden! Worthiest to be

And be his name the balın of every lip As who should say,-back, fortune, know thy distance !



Their friend, their chief, their father, and the Thus steadily he pass'd, and mock'd his fate. When, lo! the princess to her morning walk

Enter PetERSON. Came forth attended. Quick amazement seiz'd Peter. Unbind your prisoner.

before us,

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