Arv. It cannot fail.

And. It has a glorious aspect.

Arv. Now, Sweden ! rise and re-assert thy Or be for ever fallen. [rights,

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? [come;
You say, the foe's at hand-Why, let them
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, [task. And what his scope intends? Be mine that 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 treasure 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 ?
Arv. Ha! let me think of that, 'tis sure she
loves him.
[Aside.

Away, thou skance and jaundic'd eye of jeal

ousy,

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, [light
And call'd on death to ease me-straight a
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?

Art. Yes.

Loos'd from my bonds, I rose at her command;
When, scarce recovering speech, I would have
kneel'd,
[cried,
But, haste thee, haste thee for thy life, she
And oh, if e'er thy envied eyes behold
Thy lov'd Gustavus; say, a gentle foe
Has given thee to his friendship.

Gust. You've much amaz'd me! is her name

a secret?

Art. To me it is-but you, perhaps, may

guess.

Gust. No, on my word.

Art. You too had your deliverer.

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,
And breathe the cause of virtue? Rise, ye
Swedes!

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.
[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE 1.-The Camp.

Enter CHRISTIERN, Attendants, &c. PETERSON meets him.

Christ. What from Dalecarlia ?
Peter. Late last night,
I sent a trusty slave,

And hourly wait some tidings.
Christ. Sure

[dition.

The wretches will not dare such quick perI 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 there birth-
And this the yearly fever of their blood, [right,
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,
Of many a monarch.
Pregnant with plagues, and empty'd on the
[heads

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

Gent. A prisoner, good my lord.
Christ. When taken?

Gent. Now, even here, before your tent;
I mark'd his careless action, but his eye
Of studied observation-then his port
And base attire ill-suiting-I inquir'd,
But found he was a stranger.

[sence.

Christ, A sullen scorn Knits up his brow, and frowns upon our preWhat-ay-thou wouldst be thought a mystery, [slave?

sumes

Some greatness in eclipse-whence art thou,
Silent! nay, then-bring forth the torture!
A smile! damnation !-How the wretch as-
Ljesty!
The wreck of state, the suffering soul of ma-
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 foe to tyrants.

Christ. Fiends and fire !

A whirlwind tear thee, most audacious traitor.
Arv. Do rage and chase, thy wrath's beneath
[ness,
me, Christiern.
How poor thy power, how empty is thy happi-
When such a wretch, as I appear to be,
Can ride thy temper, harrow up thy form,
And stretch thy soul upon the rack of passion!

Christ. I will know thee!-Bear him hence! Why, what are kings, if slaves can brave us

friends,

[Exit PETERSON with ARVIDA guarded.

Enter PETERSON.

Peter. Unbind your prisoner.
Arv. How!

Peter. You have your liberty, And may depart unquestion'd. Art. 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.
Are. 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 uncomMay I presume?

Perhaps a secret?

Peter. No or, if it were,

[mon.

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.

Arv. Ha! Friend to Christiern?-Guard thyself, 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,

haughty;

are

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.

Art. A sudden pain

[lord,

Just struck athwart my breast.-But say, my
I thought you nam'd Christina?
Peter. Yes.

Arv. O torture!

What of her, my good lord?

[Aside.

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 me,

Did you not say, the princess was his wife? Whose wife, my lord?

Peter. I did not say what was, but what

must be.

Art. Touching Gustavus, was it not?

done! undone Arvida!

Peter. Is't possible, my lord! the prince Arvida! My friend! [Embraces him. Arv. Confusion to the name! [Turns. Peter. Why this, good Heaven? And wherefore thus disguis'd?

Arv. Yes, that accomplish'd traitor, that Gustavus;

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

Arv. Name her not, Peterson, since she can't be mine: [me! Gustavus! how, ah! how hast thou deceiv'd Who could have look'd for falsehood from thy brow, [virtue! Whose heavenly arch was as the throne of Thy eye appear'd a sun, to cheer the world, Benevolent, the harbour for mankind. Thy bosom truth's fair palace, and thy arms,

Peter. What's to be done? Believe me, valiant prince, [terests, I know not which most sways me to thy inMy love to thee, or hatred to Gustavus. Arv. Would you then save me? Think, contrive 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, Gustayus-What? Where had I wander'd Stab my bleeding

O! I am over paid with conscious pleasure: The sense but to have sav'd that wondrous man,

Is still a smiling cherub in my breast,
And whispers peace within.

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

Should so evade the busy search of thousands; That six long months have shut him from in

quiry,

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 Ma-
riana,

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 sweil'd my dower.
Mar. Amazement fix me!
Rejected by Gustavus !

Christina. Yes, Mariana ;- -but rejected nobly. [try! Not worlds could win him to betray his counHad 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 charms, whose power
might reconcile
[you?-
-Had he seen
-Yet while inex-

Things opposite in Nature-
Christina. I'll tell thee-

pert 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, [me. His eyes met mine; he fix'd their glories on Confusion thrill'd me then, and secret joy, Fast throbbing, stole its treasures from my heart, [son. And, mantling upward, turn'd my face to crimI wish'd-but did not dare to look-he gaz'd;

Doom'd in an hour to fall by faithless hands:
Laer. In Dalecarlia, on some great design,
His friend, the brave, the false, deceiv'd Ar-
vida,

Even now prepares to lead a band of ruffians
And seize Gustavus, obvious to the snares
Beneath the winding covert of the hill,
Of friendship's fair dissemblance. And your
father

The purchase of his falsehood.
Has vow'd your beauties to Arvida's arms,

Christina. Shield me, Heaven!

Is there no let, no means of quick prevention ? Laer. Behold my life, still chain'd to thy direction;

That breathes thy mandate.
My will shall have a wing for every word

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

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

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.

Sir. And who art thou,

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

[king, Its o'er-toil'd triumph. There our bleeding 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 And would like him have[him, Conquer❜d.

Gust. Oh, Danes! Danes! You shall weep blood for this. Shall they not brother? [geance, Yes, we will deal our might with thrifty venA life for every blow, and, when we fall, There shall be weight in't; like the tott'ring That draw contiguous ruin.

Siv. Brave, brave man!

[towers,

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,
[panions;
Though wrapp'd in rags, my fifty brave com-
Who through the force of fifteen thousand foes
Bore off their king, and sav'd his great re-
mains.

Gust. Why, captain,
[quer.
We could but die alone, with these we'll con-
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

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
Of sweetness mix'd with glory-Grace ines-
timable!
[arm,
He pluck'd this bracelet from his conquering
And bound it here.-My wrist seem'd treble
nerv'd:

My heart spoke to him, and I did such deeds 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
It cannot- -It is, it is!
[all!
[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
Gustavus

Claims no precedence here.
Haste, brave men!

Collect your friends, to join us on the instant;
Summon our brethren to their share of con-

quest,

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 I 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,