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!

[Exeunt CHRISTIERN and his Party. GUSTAVUS
and his Party remain.

-Arvida! Anderson!

Gust. Then she is gone

For ever gone

-Arnoldus, friends, where are ye?

e-Oh-

Help here, heave, heave this mountain from me

Heav'n keep my senses!

tle;

-So-We will to bat

But let no banners wave- -Be still, thou trump!
And ev'ry 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
Grapples 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;
Preeminent of men !

Siv. Accurs'd be he,

Who, in thy leading, will not fight, and strive,
And bleed, and gasp with pleasure!

And. We are thine.

Arn. Tho', to yield us up,

Had scarce been less than virtue.

Gust. O my friends!

I see, 'tis not for man to boast his strength
Before the trial comes- -This very hour,
Had I a thousand parents, all seem'd light,

When weigh'd against my country; and but now,
One mother seem'd of weight to poize the world;
Tho' conscious truth and reason were against her.
For, Oh, howe'er the partial passions sway,
High Heav'n assigns but one unbiass'd way;
Direct thro' ev'ry opposition leads,

Where shelves decline, and many a steep impedes.
Here hold we on-tho' thwarting fiends alarm,
Here hold we on-tho' devious syrens charm;

In Heav'n's disposing pow'r events unite,

Nor aught can happen wrong to him, who acts aright.

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.

[Exeunt.

The Royal Tent, near the Field of Battle.

Enter CHRISTINA and MARIANA.

Christina. Hark! Mariana, list!-No-all is silent

-didst thou not hear?

It was not fancy, sure

Mar. Too plain, the voice of terror seiz'd my ear, And my heart sinks within me.

Christina. Oh, I fear

The war is now at work- As winds, methought, Long born thro' hollow vaults, the sound approach'd; One sound, yet laden with a thousand notes

Of fearful variation; then it swell'd

To distant shouts, now coming on the gale;

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To distan snouts, now coming on the gale;

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