The British Drama: A Collection of the Most Esteemed Tragedies, Comedies ...

Arn. How will they kindle, when, confess'd to view,

Once more their lov'd Gustavus stands before

them!

Arv. It cannot fail.

And. It has a glorious aspect.

[friends,

Gust. No, on my word.
Are. You too had your deliverer.
Gust. A kind, but not a fair, one-Well, my
Our cause is ripe, and calls us forth to action.
Tread ye not lighter? Swells not every breast
With ampler scope to take your country in,

Aro. Now, Sweden! rise and re-assert thy rights, And breathe the cause of virtue ?

Or be for ever fallen.

And. Then be it so.

Arn. Lead on, thou arm of war,

To death or victory.

Gust. Why thus, my friends, thus join'd in

such a cause,

Are we not equal to a host of slaves?

Swedes!

Rise, yo

Rise greatly equal to this hour's importance.
On us the eyes of future ages wait,

And this day's close decides our country's fate.

ACT II.

SCENE I-The Camp.

[Exeunt.

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

And few the hours we ask for their reception.
For I will take these rustic sons of liberty
In the first warmth and hurry of their souls;
And, should the tyrant then attempt our heights,
He comes upon his fate.-Arise, thou sun!
Haste, haste to rouse thee to the call of liberty,
That shall once more salute thy morning beam,
And hail thee to thy setting.

Arv. Were it not worth a hazard of a life,
To know if Christiern leads his powers in person,
And what his scope intends? Be mine that task.
Even to the tyrant's tent I'll win my way,
And mingle with his councils.

Gust. Go, my friend.

Dear as thou art, whene'er our country calls, Friends, sons, and sires, should yield their trea

sure up,

Nor own a sense beyond the public safety.
But, tell me, my Arvida, ere thou goest,
Tell me what hand has made thy friend its debtor,
And given thee up to freedom and Gustavus ?
Aro. Ha! let me think of that, 'tis sure she
loves him.

[Aside.

Away, thou skance and jaundic'd eye of jealousy,
That tempts my soul to sicken at perfection;
Away! I will unfold it.-To thyself
Arvida owes his freedom.

Gust. How, my friend?

Arv. Some months are pass'd, since, in the Danish dungeon,

With care emaciate, and unwholesome damps,
Sick'ning I lay, chain'd to my flinty bed,
And call'd on death to ease me-straight a light
Shone round, as when the ministry of Heaven
Descends to kneeling saints. But, oh! the form
That pour'd upon my sight.-Ye angels, speak!
For ye alone are like her; or present
Such visions pictured to the nightly eye
Of fancy tranc'd in bliss. She then approach'd,
The softest pattern of embodied meekness,
For pity had divinely touch'd her eye,
And harmoniz'd her motions.-Ah, she cried,
Unhappy stranger, art not thou the man,
Whose virtues have endear'd thee to Gustavus ?
Gust. Gustavus, did she say?

meets him.

Christ. What from Dalecarlia ?

Peter. Late last night,

I sent a trusty slave,

And hourly wait some tidings.
Christ. Sure

The wretches will not dare such quick perdition.
I cannot think it.

Peter. I think they will not.-Though of old
I know them,

All born to broils, the very sons of tumult;
Waste is their wealth, and mutiny their birthright,
And this the yearly fever of their blood,
Their holiday of war; a day apart,
Torn out from peace, and sacred to rebellion.
Oft has their battle hung upon the brow
Of yon wild steep, a living cloud of mischiefs,
Pregnant with plagues, and empty'd on the heads
Of many a monarch.

Enter ARVIDA, guarded, and a GENTLEMAN.
Aro. Now, fate I'm caught, and what remains

Knits up his brow, and frowns upon our presence.
What-ay-thou wouldst be thought a mystery,
Some greatness in eclipse-whence art thou, slave?
Silent! nay, then-bring forth the torture!
A smile! damnation!-How the wretch assumes
The wreck of state, the suffering soul of majesty!
What, have we no pre-eminence, no claim?
Dost thou not know thy life is in our power?
Arv. 'Tis therefore I despise it.
Christ. Matchless insolence!
What art thou? speak!

Arv. Be sure, no friend to thee; for I'm a fo to tyrants.

Christ. Fiends and fire!

A whirlwind tear thee, most audacious traitor. Arv. Do rage and chase, thy wrath's beneath

Enter a Messenger.

What wouldst thou, fellow?

Mess. O, my sovereign lord,

I am come fast and far, from even 'till morn,
Five times I've cross'd the shade of sleepless night,
Impatient of thy presence.

Christ. Whence?

Mess. From Denmark.
Commended from the consort of thy throne
To speed and privacy.

Christ. Your words would taste of terror-
Mess. A secret malady, my gracious liege,
Some factious vapour, rising from off the skirts
Of southmost Norway, has diffus'd its bane,
And rages now within the heart of Denmark.

Christ. It must not, cannot, 'tis impossible! What, my own Danes!

Arvida at the sight; his steps took root,
A tremor shook him; and his alter'd cheek
Now sudden flush'd, then fled its wonted colour,
While with an eager and intemperate look,
He bent his form, and hung upon her beauties.
Christ. Ha! did our daughter note him?
Peter. No, my lord:

She pass'd regardless. Straight his pride fell from
And at her name he started;
[him
Then heav'd a sigh, and cast a look to heaver,
Of such a mute, yet eloquent, emotion,

As seem'd to say-Now, Fate, thou hast prevail'd,
And found one way to triumph o'er Arvida!
Christ. But whither would this lead?

Peter. To this, my lord

While thus his soul's unseated, shook by passion,
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.

Christ. Gustavus!

So near us, and in arms!

[time;

What's to be done? Now, Peterson, now's the
Waken all the wondrous statesman in thee.
This curs'd Gustavus

Invades my shrinking spirits, awes my heart,
And sits upon my slumbers-All in vain
Has he been daring, and have I been vigilant;
He still evades the hunter,

And, if there's power in heaven or hell, it guards
him.

His name's a host, a terror to my legions.
And by my triple crown, I swear, Gustavus,
I'd rather meet all Europe for my foe,
Than see thy face in arms!

Peter. Be calm, my liege,

And listen to a secret big with consequence,
That gives thee back the second man on earth
Whose valour could plant fears around thy throne:
Thy prisoner-

Christ. What of him?
Peter. The Prince Arvida.

Christ. How!

Peter. The same.

Christ. My royal fugitive!
Peter. Most certain.

[hither.
Christ. Now, then, tis plain who sent him
Peter. Yes.
[cross me;
Pray give me leave, my lord-a thought comes
If so, he must be ours-
[Pauses.

Your pardon for a question-Has Arvida
E'er seen your beauteous daughter, your Christina?
Christ. Never-yes-possibly he might, that day
When the proud pair, Gustavus and Arvida,
Through Copenhagen drew a length of chain,
And graced my chariot wheels. But why the
question?

Peter. I'll tell you: while even now he stood

before us,

I mark'd his high demeanour, and my eye

Both fix'd in resolution deep as hell.

Peter. Ah, my liege,

No mortal footing treads so firm in virtue,
As always to abide the slippery path,
Nor deviate with the bias. Some have few,
But each man has his failing, some defect,
Wherein to slide temptation.-Leave him to me.
Christ. If thou canst bend this proud one to our

purpose,

And make the lion crouch, 'tis well-if not,
Away at once, and sweep him from remembrance.
Peter. Then I must promise deep.
Christ. Ay, any thing; outbid ambition.
Peter. Love?-

Christ. Ha! yes-our daughter too-if she can
bribe him:

But then to win him to betray his friend!

Peter. Oh, doubt it not, my lord: for if he loves,
As sure he greatly does, I have a stratagem
That holds the certainty of fate within it.
Love is a passion whose effects are various.
It ever brings some change upon the soul,
Some virtue, or some vice, 'till then unknown,
Degrades the hero, and makes cowards valiant.
Christ. True; when it pours upon a youthful
temper,

Open and apt to take the torrent in,
It owns no limits, no restraint it knows,
But sweeps all down, though Heaven and Hell
[Exeunt.

oppose.

SCENE II-A Prison.

ARVIDA discovered in chains; Guards preparing instruments of death and torture.-He advances in confusion.

Arv. Off, off, vain cumbrance, ye conflicting
thoughts!

Leave me to Heaven-O peace!—It will not be
Just when I rose above mortality,

To pour her wondrous weight of charms upon me!
At such a time, it was-it was too much!-

Claim'd some remembrance of him, though in For every pang these tortur'd limbs shall feel,

clouds

Doubtful and distant, but a nearer view
Renew'd the characters effac'd by absence.
Yet, lest he might presume upon a friendship
Of ancient league between us, I dissembled,
Nor seem'd to know him. On he proudly strode,
As who should say,-back, fortune, know thy
distance!

Thus steadily he pass'd, and mock'd his fate.
When, lo! the princess to her morning walk
Came forth attended. Quick amazement seiz'd

Descend in tenfold blessings on Gustavus! [jov,
Yes, bless him, bless him! Crown his hours with
His head with glory, and his arms with conquest;
Set his firm foot upon the neck of tyrants,
That breathes through Sweden! Worthiest to be
And be his name the balm of every lip
styled
[king
Their friend, their chief, their father, and thei
Enter PETERSON.

Peter. Unbind your prisoner.

Aro. How!

Peter. You have your liberty, And may depart unquestion'd. Arv. Do not mock me.

It is not to be thought, while power remains,
That Christiern wants a reason to be cruel.
But let him know, I would not be oblig'd.
He, who accepts the favours of a tyrant,
Shares in his guilt; they leave a stain behind them.
Peter. You wrong the native temper of his
soul;

Cruel of force, but never of election;
Prudence compell'd him to a show of tyranny;
Howe'er, those politics are now no more,
And mercy in her turn shall shine on Sweden.
Aro. Indeed! it were a strange, a bless'd reverse,
Devoutly to be wish'd: but then, the cause,
The cause, my lord, must surely be uncommon.
May I presume?

Perhaps a secret?

Peter. No- -or, if it were,

The boldness of thy spirit claims respect,

And should be answered.-Know, the only man,
In whom our monarch ever knew repulse,
Is now our friend; that terror of the field,
Th' invincible Gustavus.

Aro. Ha! Friend to Christiern?-Guard thy-
self, my heart!

Nor seem to take alarm-[Aside.]—Why, good
my lord,

What terror is there in a wretch proscrib'd,
Naked of means, and distant as Gustavus?

Peter. There you mistake-Nor knew we, till
this hour,

The danger was so near-From yonder hill
He sends proposals, back'd with all the powers
Of Dalecarlia, those licentious resolutes,
Who, having nought to hazard in the wreck,
Are ever foremost to foment a storm.

Arv. I were too bold to question on the terms.
Peter. No-trust me, valiant man, whoe'er
thou art,

I would do much to win a worth like thine,
By any act of service, or of confidence.—
The terms Gustavus claims, indeed are haughty;
The freedom of his mother, and his sister,
His forfeit province, Gothland, and the isles
Submitted to his sceptre- -But the league,
The bond of amity and lasting friendship,
Is, that he claims Christina for his bride.-
You start, and seem surpris'd.

Aro. A sudden pain

tavus;

While he sat planning private scenes of happiness,
Oh, well dissembled! he, he sent me hither;
My friendly, unsuspecting heart a sacrifice,
To make death sure, and rid him of a rival.
Peter. A rival! Do you then love Christiern's
daughter?

Arv. Name her not, Peterson, since she can't
be mine:

Gustavus! how, ah! how hast thou deceiv'd me!
Who could have look'd for falsehood from thy
brow,

Whose heavenly arch was as the throne of virtue!
Thy eye appear'd a sun, to cheer the world,
Thy bosom truth's fair palace, and thy arms,
Benevolent, the harbour for mankind.

Peter. What's to be done? Believe me, va-
liant prince,

I know not which most sways me to thy interests,
My love to thee, or hatred to Gustavus.

Arv. Would you then save me? Think, con-
trive it quickly!
[vengeance,
Lend me your troops-by all the powers of
Myself will face this terror of the North,
This son of fame-this-O, Gustavus-What?
Where had I wander'd! Stab my bleeding country!
Save, shield me from that thought!
Peter. Retire, my lord;

Just struck athwart my breast.-But say, my lord, For, see, the princess comes!

I thought you nam'd Christina ?

Peter. Yes.

Peter. I said, Gustavus claim'd her for his bride.
Arv. His bride! his wife!

You did not mean his wife ?-Do fiends feel this?
[Aside.
Down, heart, nor tell thy anguish-Pray excuse
Did you not say, the princess was his wife?
Whose wife, my lord?

me,

Peter. I did not say what was, but what must be.
Arv. Touching Gustavus, was it not?

Peter. The same.

Aro. His bride!

Art. Where, where?

Ha! Yes, she comes indeed! her beauties drive
Time, place, and truth, and circumstance before

them!

Perdition pleases there-pull-tear me from her!
Yet must I gaze-but one-but one look more,
And I were lost for ever.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III-An Apartment in CHRISTIERN's
Palace.

Enter CHRISTINA and MARIANA. Christina. Forbid it, shame! Forbid it, virgin modesty!

No, no, my friend, Gustavus ne'er shall know it.
O! I am overpaid with conscious pleasure:
The sense but to have sav'd that wondrous man,

Peter. I say his bride, his wife; his lov'd Is still a smiling cherub in my breast,

Christina!

Christina, fancied in the very prime

And whispers peace within.

[consequence.

Mar. 'Tis strange, a man, of his high note and

Should so evade the busy search of thousands;
That six long months have shut him from inquiry,
And not an eye can trace him to his covert.
Christina. Once 'twas not so; each infant
lisp'd, Gustavus !

It was the favourite name of every language.
His slightest motions fill'd the world with tidings;
Wak'd he, or slept, fame watch'd th' important
hour,

And nations told it round.

Mar. Madam, I've heard, that when Gustavus lay detain'd in Denmark, Your royal father sought the hero's friendship, And offer'd ample terms of peace and amity. Christina. He did: he offer'd that, my Mariana, For which contending monarchs sued in vain ; He offer'd me, his darling, his Christina; But I was slighted, slighted by a captive, Though kingdoms swell'd my dower.

Mar. Amazement fix me! Rejected by Gustavus!

Christina. Yes, Mariana;--but rejected nobly. Not worlds could win him to betray his country! Had he consented, I had then despis'd him. What's all the gaudy glitter of a crown? What, but the glaring meteor of ambition, That leads a wretch benighted in his errors, Points to the gulf, and shines upon destruction. Mar. You wrong your charins, whose power might reconcile

Things opposite in Nature- -Had he seen you? Christina. I'll tell thee-Yet while inexpert of years,

I heard of bloody spoils, the waste of war,
And dire conflicting man; Gustavus' name
Superior rose, still dreadful in the tale:
Then first he seiz'd my infancy of soul,
As somewhat fabled of gigantic fierceness,
Too huge for any form; he scar'd my sleep,
And fill'd my young idea. Not the boast
Of all his virtues (graces only known
To him and heavenly natures!) could erase
The strong impression, 'till that wondrous day
In which he met my eyes.

What then was my amazement! he was chain'd:
Was chain'd! Like the robes

Of coronation, worn by youthful kings,

He drew his shackles. The Herculean nerve

Brac'd his young arm; and, soften'd in his cheek, Lived more than woman's sweetness! Then his eye!

His mien! his native dignity! He look'd,
As though he had captivity in chains,
And we were slaves around.

Mar. Did he observe you?
Christina. He did: for, as I trembled, look'd,
and sigh'd,

His eyes met mine; he fix'd their glories on me.
Confusion thrill'd me then, and secret joy,
Fast throbbing, stole its treasures from my heart,
And, mantling upward, turn'd my face to crimson.
I wish'd-but did not dare to look-he gaz'd;
When sudden, as by force, he turn'd away,
And would no more behold me.

Enter LAERTES

I heard it all; your cruel, cruel father,
Has sold you, given you up a spoil to treason,
The purchase of the noblest blood on earth-
Gustavus!

Christina. Ah! What of him? Where, where

is he?

Laer. In Dalecarlia, on some great design, Doom'd in an hour to fall by faithless hands: His friend, the brave, the false, deceiv'd Arvida, Even now prepares to lead a band of ruffians Beneath the winding covert of the hill, And seize Gustavus, obvious to the snares Of friendship's fair dissemblance. And your fathe Has vow'd your beauties to Arvida's arms, The purchase of his falsehood.

Christina. Shield me, Heaven!

Is there no let, no means of quick prevention? Laer. Behold my life, still chain'd to thy direeMy will shall have a wing for every word [tion; That breathes thy mandate.

Christina. Will you, good Laertes ? Alas! I fear to overtask thy friendship. Say, will you save me then-Oh, go, haste, fly! Acquaint Gustavusif, if he must fall, Let hosts that hem this single lion in, Let nations hunt him down-let him fall nobly. Laer. I go, and Heaven direct me to him.

[Eril. Christina. Ye powers! if deaf to all the vows I Yet shield Gustavus, for Gustavus' sake; [make, Protect his virtues from a faithless foe, And save your only image left below. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I-Mountains of Dalecarlia Enter GUSTAVUS as a peasant; SIVARD and Do lecarlians following.

Gust. Ye men of Sweden, wherefore are ye come? See ye not yonder, how the locusts swarm, To drink the fountains of your honour up, And leave your hills a desert?-Wretched men! Why came ye forth? Is this a time for sport? Or are ye met with song and jovial feast, [ants? To welcome your new guests, your Danish visit To stretch your supple necks beneath their feet, And fawning, lick the dust ?-Go, go my country

men,

Each to your several mansions, trim them out,
Cull all the tedious earnings of your toil, (ters.
To purchase bondage.-Bid your blooming daugh
And your chaste wives, to spread their beds with
softness;

Then go ye forth, and with your proper hands
Conduct your masters in; conduct the sons
Of lust and violation-O, Swedes! Swedes!
Heavens are ye men, and will ye suffer this?
There was a time, my friends, a glorious time!
When, had a single man of your forefathers
Upon the frontier met a host in arms,
His courage scarce had turn'd; himself had stood,
Alone had stood, the bulwark of his country.
Come, come ye on then. Here I take my stand!
Here on the brink, the very verge, of liberty;
Although contention rise upon the clouds,
Mix heaven with earth, and roll the ruin onward,
Here will I fix, and breast me to the shock,
Till I or Denmark fall.

Siv. And who art thou,

That thus wouldst swallow all the glory up That should redeem the times? Behold this breast, The sword has till'd it; and the stripes of slaves

Shall ne'er trace honour here; shall never blot
The fair inscription.-Never shall the cords
Of Danish insolence bind down these arms,
That bore my royal master from the field.
Gust. Ha! Say you, brother? Were you there.
Oh, grief!

Where liberty and Stenon fell together?

Siv. Yes, I was there.-A bloody field it was, Where conquest gasp'd, and wanted breath to tell Its o'er-toil'd triumph. There our bleeding king, There Stenon on this bosom made his bed, And, rolling back his dying eyes upon me, Soldier, he cried, if e'er it be thy lot

To see my gallant cousin, great Gustavus,

Tell him-for once, that I have fought like him,
And would like him have-
Conquer'd.

Gust. Oh, Danes! Danes!

You shall weep blood for this. Shall they not,

My soul admires thee.-By my father's spirit,
I would not barter such a death as this
For immortality! Nor we alone

Here be the trusty gleanings of that field,
Where last we fought for freedom; here's rich
poverty,
[nions;
Though wrapp'd in rags, my fifty brave compa-
Who through the force of fifteen thousand foes
Bore off their king, and sav'd his great remains.
Gust. Why, captain,

We could but die alone, with these we'll conquer.
My fellow lab'rers to-What say ye, friends?
Shall we not strike for't?

Siv. Death! Victory or death!
All. No bonds! no bonds!

Arn. Spoke like yourselves.-Ye men of Dalecarlia,

Brave men and bold! Whom every future age Shall mark for wondrous deeds, achievements won From honour's dangerous summit, warriors all! Say, might ye choose a chief

Speak, name the man,

Who then should meet your wish?

Siv. Forbear the theme.

[weight Way wouldst thou seek to sink us with the Of grievous recollection? Oh, Gustavus! Could the dead wake, thou wert the man. Gust. Didst thou know Gustavus? Siv. Know him! Oh, Heaven! what else, who else was worth

The knowledge of a soldier? That great day,
When Christiern, in his third attempt on Sweden,
Had summ'd his powers, and weigh'd the scale
of fight;

On the bold brink, the very push of conquest,
Gustavus rush'd, and bore the battle down;
In his full sway of prowess, like Leviathan
That scoops his foaming progress on the main,
And drives the shoals along-forward I sprung,
All emulous, and lab'ring to attend him;
Fear fled before, behind him rout grew loud,
And distant wonder gaz'd.-At length he turn'd,
And having eyed me with a wondrous look [ble!
Of sweetness mix'd with glory-Grace inestima-
He pluck'd this bracelet from his conquering arm,
And bound it here.-My wrist seem'd treble nerv'd:
My heart spoke to him, and I did such deeds
VOL. I....3C

As best might thank him.-But from that bless'd day

I never saw him more-yet still to this,
I bow, as to the relics of my saint:
Each morn I drop a tear on every bead,
Count all the glories of Gustavus o'er,
And think I still behold him.

Gust. Rightly thought;
For so thou dost, my soldier.
Behold your general,

Gustavus! come once more to lead you on
To laurel'd victory, to fame, to freedom!
Siv. Strike me, ye powers!-It is illusion all!
It cannot- -It is, it is!

[Falls and embraces his knees. Gust. Oh, speechless eloquence! Rise to my arms, my friend.

Siv. Friend! say you, friend?
O, my heart's lord! my conqueror! my-
Gust. Approach, my fellow soldiers, your Gue
Claims no precedence here.
[tavus
Haste, brave men!

Collect your friends, to join us on the instant;
Summon our brethren to their share of conquest,
And let loud echo, from her circling hills,
Sound freedom, till the undulation shake
The bounds of utmost Sweden.

[Exeunt Dalecarlians, shouting
Enter LAERTES.

Laer. Thy presence nobly speaks the man 1 wish, Gustavus.

Gust. Thou hast a hostile garb;
Ha! say-art thou Laertes? If I err not,
There is a friendly semblance in that face,
Which answers to a fond impression here,
And tells me I'm thy debtor-

Laer. No, valiant prince, you over-rate my service;

There is a worthier object of your gratitude, Whom yet you know not.-Oh, I have to tellBut then, to gain your credit, must unfold What haply should be secret.Be it so; You are all honour.

Gust. Let me to thy mind,

For thou hast wak'd my soul into a thought
That holds me all attention.

Laer. Mightiest man!

To me alone you held yourself oblig'd
For life and liberty.--Had it been so,
I were more bless'd, with retribution just
To pay thee for my own.- -For on the day
When by your arm the mighty Thraces fell,
Fate threw me to your sword. You spar'd my
And, in the very whirl and rage of fight, [youth
Your eye was taught compassion-from that hour
I vow'd my life the slave of your remembrance;
And often as Christina, heavenly maid!
The mistress of my service, question'd me
Of wars and vent'rous deeds, my tidings came
Still freighted with thy name, until the day
In which yourself appear'd, to make praise speech
Christina saw you then, and on your fate [less
Dropp'd a kind tear; and, when your noble scorr
Of proffer'd terms provok'd her father's rage
To take the deadly forfeit, she she only,
Whose virtues watch'd the precious hour f
mercy,

All trembling, sent my secret hand to save you Where, through a pass unknown to all vou keepers,

I led you forth and gave you to your liberty

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