[hearts,

your

Gust. Amazement, I perceive, hath fill'd
And joy, for that your lost Gustavus, 'scap'd
Through wounds, imprisonments, and chains, and
deaths,

Thus sudden, thus unlook'd for, stands before ye.
As one escap'd from cruel hands I come,
From hearts that ne'er knew pity;

And know no music but the groans of Sweden.
Yet, not for that my sister's early innocence
And mother's age now grind beneath captivity;
Nor that one bloody, one remorseless hour
Swept my great sire and kindred from my side;
For them, Gustavus weeps not;
But, O great parent, when I think on thee!
Thy numberless, thy nameless, shameful infamies,
My widow'd country! Sweden! when I think
Upon thy desolation, spite of rage-

And vengeance that would choke them-tears will flow.

And. Oh, they are villains, every Dane of them, Practis'd to stab and smile; to stab the babe, That smiles upon them.

Arn. What accursed hours

Roll o'er those wretches, who, to fiends like these,
In their dear liberty have barter'd more
Than worlds will rate for?

Gust. O liberty, Heaven's choice prerogative! True bond of law, thou social soul of property, Thou breath of reason, life of life itself!

For thee the valiant bleed. O sacred liberty! Wing'd from the summer's snare, from flattering ruin,

Like the bold stork you seek the wintery shore, Leave courts, and pomps, and palaces to slaves, Cleave to the cold, and rest upon the storm.

Upborne by thee, my soul disdain'd the terms
Of empireare ye not at the hands of tyrants?
Are ye not mark'd, ye men of Dalecarlia,
Are ye not mark'd by all the circling world
As the last stake; what but liberty, [years,
Through the fam'd course of thirteen hundred
Aloof hath held invasion from your hills,
And sanctified their shame ?-And will ye, will ye
Shrink from the hopes of the expecting world;
Bid your high honours stoop to foreign insult,
And in one hour give up to infamy

The harvest of a thousand years of glory?

And. Die all first!

Gust. Yes, die by piecemeal!

Leave not a limb o'er which a Dane may triumph
Now from my soul I joy, I joy my friends,
To see ye fear'd; to see, that even your foes
Do justice to your valour !-There they be,
The powers of kingdoms, summ'd in yonder host,
Yet kept aloof, yet trembling to assail ye.
And, oh, when I look round and see you here,
Of number short, but prevalent in virtue,
My heart swells high, and burns for the encounter.
True courage but from opposition grows;
And what are fifty, what a thousand slaves,
Match'd to the sinew of a single arm
That strikes for liberty? that strikes to save
His fields from fire, his infants from the sword,
His couch from lust, his daughters from pollution,
And his large honours from eternal infamy?
What doubt we then? Shall we, shall we stand
here!

Gust. Take your wish.

He, who wants arms, may grapple with the foe,
And so be furnish'd. You, most noble Anderson,
Take the left route-You, Eric, great in arms!
Divide our powers, and with the fam'd Olaus
With the renown'd Nederbi, hold the right,
And skirt the forest down; then wheel at once,
Confess'd to view, and close upon the vale:
Myself, and my most valiant cousin here,
Th' invincible Arvida, gallant Sivard,
Arnoldus, and these hundred hardy veterans,
Will pour directly on, and lead the onset.
Bold are our hearts, and nervous are our hands.

With us, truth, justice, fame, and freedom close,
Each singly equal to a host of foes. [Exeunt.

Christ. I see.

My all that's left, my gentle mother there,
And spare yon little trembler!
Christ. Yes, on terms

Of compact and submission.
Gust. Ha! with thee?

Aug. See, my son relents;

Behold, O king! yet spare us but a moment, His little sister shall embrace his knees,

And these fond arms, around his duteous neck,
Shall join to bend him to us.

Christ. Could I trust ye-
Arv. I'll be your hostage!
Christ. Granted.

Gust. Hold, my friend.

[Here ARVIDA breaks from GUSTAVUS, and passes to CHRISTIERN's party, while AvGUSTA and GUSTAVA go over to GUSTAVUS. Aug. Is it then given, yet given me, ere I die, To see thy face, Gustavus? thus to gaze, To touch, to fold thee thus!-My son, my son! And have I liv'd to this? It is enough. All arm'd and, in my country's precious cause, Terribly beauteous, to behold thee thus ! Why, 'twas my only, hourly suit to Heaven, And now 'tis granted. O my glorious child, Bless'd were the throes I felt for thee, Gustavus! For from the breast, from out your swathing bands You stepp'd the child of honour.

Gust. O my mother!

[eye?

Aug. Why stands that water trembling in thy
Why heaves thy bosom? Turn not thus away,
'Tis the last time that we must meet, my child,
And I will have the whole. Why, why Gustavus,
Why is this form of heaviness? For me

I trust it is not meant; you cannot think
So poorly of me: I grow old, my son,
And to the utmost period of mortality,

I ne'er should find a death's hour like to this,
Whereby to do thee honour.

Gust. Roman patriots!

Ye Decii, self-devoted to your country!
You gave no mothers up! Will annals yield
No precedent for this, no elder boast
Whereby to match my trial?

Aug. No, Gustavus;

For Heaven still squares our trial to our strength,
And thine is of the foremost.-Noble youth!
Even I, thy parent, with a conscious pride,
Have often bow'd to thy superior virtues.
Oh, there is but one bitterness in death,
One only sting-

Gust. Speak, speak!

Aug. 'Tis felt for thee.

[country? Compact with thee! and mean'st thou for my For Sweden! No-so hold my heart but firm, Although it wring for't; though blood drop for tears,

And at the sight my straining eyes start
They both shall perish first.

Christ. Slaves, do your office.

Gust. Hold yet.-Thou canst not be so damn'd? my mother!

I dare not ask thy blessing.-Where's Arvida? Where art thou? Come, my friend, thou'st known temptation

And therefore best canst pity, or support me.
Aro. Alas! I shall but serve to weigh thee
downward,

To pull thee from the dazzling, sightless height,
At which thy virtue soars. For, oh, Gustavus,
My soul is dark, disconsolate and dark;
Sick to the world, and hateful to myself,

I have no country now; I've nought but thee,
And should yield up the interest of mankind,

Have given ten thousand mothers, daughters too;
Who in thy virtue yet may learn to bear
Millions of freeborn sons to bless thy name,
And pray for their deliverer-Oh farewell!
This and but this, the very last adieu!
Heaven sit victorious on thy arm, my son!
And give thee to thy merits!

Christ. Ah, thou trait'ress!
Aug. See, Gustavus,

My little captive waits for one embrace.

Gust. Come to my arms, thou lamblike sacrifice; Oh, that they were of force to fold thee ever, To let thee to my heart! there lock thee close, But 'twill not be !

Arv. Hear me, thou most dear Gustavus! Thus low I bend my prayer, reject me not:

Each to his charge-Here break we off, Gustavus;
For to the very teeth of thy rebellion
We dash defiance back.

Gust. Alas, my mother!

Grief chokes up utterance, else I have to say
What never tongue unfolded-Yet return,
Come back, and I will give up all to save thee;
Thou fountain of my life!

Dearer than mercy is to kneeling penitence,
My early blessing, first and latest joy;
Return, return and save thy lost Gustavus!
Christ. No more, thou trifler!
Aug. Oh, farewell for ever!

Gus

[Exeunt CHRISTIERN and his party. TAVUS and his party remain. Gust. Then she is gone- Arvida! Anderson! For ever gone-Arnoldus, friends, where are ye? Help here, heave, heave this mountain from meOh

Heaven keep my senses!- -So- -We will to battle;

But let no banners wave- -Be still, thou trump!
And every martial sound, that gives the war
To pomp or levity; for vengeance now
Is clad with heavy arms, sedately stern,
Resolv'd, but silent as the slaughter'd heaps
O'er which my soul is brooding.

Arn. O Gustavus!

Is there a Swede of us, whose sword and soul
Grapple not to thee, as to all they hold

Of earthly estimation? Said I more,
It were but half my thought.

And. On thee we gaze,

As one unknown till this important hour;
Pre-eminent of men!

Laer. Christina, fly! thou royal virgin, This morn beheld thee mistress of the north, Bright heir of Scandinavia; and this hour Has left thee not, throughout thy wide dominions, Whereon to rest thy foot.

Christina. Now, praise to Heaven! Say, but my father lives!

Lacr. At your command

I went; and, from a neighb'ring summit, view'd
Where either host stood adverse, sternly wedg'd;
Reflecting, on each other's gloomy front,
Fell hate and fix'd defiance.—When at once
The foe mov'd on, attendant to the steps
Of their Gustavus-He, with mournful pace,
Came slow and silent; till two hapless Danes
Prick'd forth, and on his helm discharg'd their
fury;

Then rous'd the lion! To my wondering sight
His stature grew twofold, before his eye

All force seem'd wither'd, and his horrid plume Shook wild dismay around; as Heaven's dread bolt

He shot, he pierc'd our legions; in his strength
His shouting squadron gloried, rushing on
Where'er he led their battle-Full five times,
Hemm'd by our mightier host, the foe seem'd lost,
And swallow'd from my sight; five times again,
Like flames they issued to the light-And thrice
These eyes beheld him, they beheld Gustavus
Unhorsed, and by a host girt singly in;
And thrice he broke through all.

Christina. My blood runs chill.

Laer. With such a strenuous, such a labour'd conflict,

Sure never field was fought! until Gustavus
Aloud cried, Victory! and on his spear
High rear'd th' imperial diadem of Denmark;
Then slack'd the battle; then recoil'd our host;
His, echoed, Victory! and now would know
No bounds; rout follow'd, and the face of fight-
She heeds me not.

Christina. Oh, ill-starr'd royalty! My father cruel, dear, unhappy father! Summon'd so sudden! fearful, fearful thought! Enter CHRISTIERN, flying, without his helmet, in disorder, his Sword broke, and his garments bloody; he throws away his Sword. Christ. Give us new arms of proof—fresh horses-quick!