rects their hands with double force and energy. H's office partakes of the divine inclination, by being exerted to no other end but the happiness of a people.

Oh, never may any fubtleties, any infinuations, raise groundlefs jealoufies in a people fo governed! never may they be influenced to imagine that fuch a prince is inva ding their rights, while he is only folicitous to confirm and preferve them!

And never may any miniftry, any adulation, feduce fuch a prince from that his true interest and honour!

*

I fhould not have had the affurance to folicit a fubfcrip. tion in favour of fentiments that any circumstance could ever make me retract. These, and thefe only, are the principles of which you are patrons; and the honourable names prefixed to this performance, lay me under such a future obligation of conduct, as fhall ever make me cautious of forfeiting the advantages I receive from them. They are alfo to me a lafting memorial of that gratitude with which I am,

Your moft obliged, moft faithful,

And most humble fervant,

HENRY BROOKE.

The author was favoured with a very numerous and refpectable

fubfcription.

PRO

PROLOGUE.

BRITONS! this night prefents a flate diftref'd,

Tho' brave, yet vanquish'd; and tho' great, opprefs'd; Vice, rav'ning vulture, on her vitals prey'd, Her peers, her prelates, fell corruption fway'd; Their rights, for pow'r, th' ambitious weakly fold, The wealthy, poorly, for fuperfluous gold. Hence wafting ills, hence fev'ring factions rofe, And gave large entrance to invading foes; Truth, juftice, honour Aed th' infected Shore, For freedom, facred freedom, was no more. Then, greatly rifing in his country's right, Her hero, her deliverer, Sprung to light; A race of hardy, northern fons he led, Guiltless of courts, untainted, and unread, Whofe inborn Spirit fpurn'd th' ignoble fee,

Afk ye

Whofe hands fcorn'd bondage, for their hearts were free,
what law their conqu'ring caufe confess'd?
Great nature's law, the law within the breaft;
Form'd by no art, and to no fect confin'd,

But ftamp'd by Heav'n upon th' unletter'd mind.
Such, fuch, of old, the firft-born natives were,
Who breath'd the virtues of Britannia's air ;
Their realm, when mighty Cefar vainly fought,
For mightier freedom against Cæfar fought,
And rudely drove the fam'd invader home,
To tyrannize o'er polish'd-venal Rome.

Our bard, exalted in a free-born flame,
To ev'ry nation would transfer this claim:
He to no ftate, no climate bounds his page,
He bids the moral beam thro' ev'ry age;
Then be your judgment gen'rous as his plan,
Ye fons of freedom!-fave the friend of man..

DRA.

DRAMATIS PERSON Æ.

ME N.

Criftiern, King of Denmark and Nor-
way, and Ufurper of Sweden,
Trollio, a Swede, Archbishop of Upsal,
and Vicegerent to Cristiern,
Peterfon, a Swedish nobleman, fecretly
of the Danish party, and friend to
Trollio,

Laertes, a young Danish Nobleman, at-
tendant to Criftina,
Guftavus, formerly General of the
Swedes, and first coufin to the de-
ceafed King,

Arvida, of the royal blood of Sweden,
friend and coufin to Guftavus,
Anderfon, Chief Lord of Dalecarlia,
Arnoldus, a Swedish Prieft, and chaplain
in the copper mines of Dalecarlià,
Sivard, Captain of the Dalecarlians,

Mr. Wright.

Mr. Cibber.

Mr. Turbutt.

Mr. Woodward:

Mr. Quin.

Mr. Milward..
Mr. Mills.

Mr. Havard..

Mr. Ridout..

SCENE, Dalecarlia, a northern province in Sweden,

GUSTA

GUSTAVUS VAS A.

A C T I.

SCENE, the infide of the Copper-Mines in Dalecarlia. Enter Anderson, Arnoldus, and Servants, with torches. ANDERSON.

YOU

YOU tell me wonders.
Arn. Soft, behold, my Lord,

[Points behind the Scenes,
Behold him stretch'd, where reigns eternal night,
The flint his pillow, and cold damps his cov'ring;
Yet, bold of fpirit, and robust of limb,

He throws inclemency afide, nor feels
The lot of human frailty.

And. What horrors hang around! the favage race
Ne'er hold their den but where fome glimm'ring ray
May bring the cheer of morn What then is he?

His dwelling marks a fecret in his foul,

And whispers fomewhat more than man about him. Arn. Draw but the veil of his apparent wretchedness, And you shall find his form is but affum'd,

To hoard fome wond'rous treasure lodg'd within.

And. Let him bear up to what thy praises speak him, And I will win him, fpite of his referve,

Bind him with facred friendship to my foul,

And make him half myself.

Arn. 'Tis nobly promis'd;

For worth is rare, and wants a friend in Sweden:

And yet I tell thee, in her age of heroes,

When nurs'd by freedom, all her fons grew great,
And ev'ry peafant was a prince in virtue..
I greatly err, or this abandon'd stranger
Had steppd the first for fame, tho' now he feeks
To veil his name, and cloud his shine of virtues;
For there is danger in them.

And

And. Trae, Arnoldus.

Were there a prince throughout the scepter'd globe,
Who fearch'd out merit for its due preferment,
With half that care our tyrant seeks it out
For ruin, happy, happy were that state,
Beyond the golden fable of those pure
And earliest ages- -Wherefore this, good Heav'n?
Is it of fate, that who affumes a crown
Throws off humanity?

Arn. So Criftiern holds.

He claims our country as by right of conqueft,
A right to ev'ry wrong. Ev'n now 'tis faid,
The tyrant envies what our mountains yield
Of health or aliment; he comes upon us,
Attended by a num'rous hoft, to seize
These last retreats of our expiring liberty.
And. Say't thou?

Arn. This rifing day, this instant hour,
Thus chafed, we ftand upon the utmost brink
Of steep perdition, and must leap the precipice,
Or turn upon our hunters.

And. Now, Gustavus!

Thou prop and glory of inglorious Sweden,
Where art thou, mightiest man ?-Were he but here-
I'll tell thee, my Arnoldus, I beheld him,

Then when he first drew fword, ferene and dreadful,
As the brow'd evening ere the thunder break ;
For foon he made it toilfome to our eyes

To mark his speed, and trace the paths of conquest?
In vain we follow'd where he fwept the field;

'Twas death alone could wait upon Gustavus.

Arn. He was indeed whate'er our wifh could form him. And. Array'd and beauteous in the blood of Danes,

Th' invaders of his country, thrice he chased

This Criftiern, this fell conqu'ror, this ufurper,
With rout and foul difhonour at his heels,
To plunge his head in Denmark.

Arn. Nor ever had the tyrant known return,
To tread our necks, and blend us with the dust,
Had he not dar'd to break thro' ev'ry law
That fanctifies the nations; feiz'd our hero,

The