University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Enter Anderson.
And.
There was a glorious Sound!

Gust.
Yes, Anderson,
The long wish'd Hour is come—the Storm is up,
And Wrecks will follow—Where they are to light
Let Heav'n determine—Well, my noble Friend,
Has Peterson set out?

And.
He has, this Instant:
And bears your Pacquet to the Tyrant's Camp.

Gust.
What think you of his Zeal?

And.
In truth, my Lord,
It wears a gallant Show.

Gust.
'Tis specious all,
Flash without Fire, the Light'ning of a Cloud
That carries Darkness in the Rear—For Peterson,
To spread my Letters thro' the Camp of Cristiern,
And seek for Succours in the Jaws of Death,
It show'd too bold, too much the flaming Patriot.
Beside, I know him for the Friend of Trollio.

And.
Why wou'd you then employ him?

Gust.
There's the Mystery.
'Tis not his Faith, but Treachery I trust to.
My Letters are directed to the Chiefs
Of those inglorious Mercenary Swedes,
Whom Cristiern has seduced to join his Host,
And turn the Sword of Conquest on their Country;
To each of those I have address'd in Terms
Of special Correspondence, meant to rouze
The Jealousy of Cristiern; as I think
My Pacquet can't escape him—What ensues?
The Tyrant hence concludes himself betray'd,
Sifts all his Legions, thins the Ranks of Fight,
And leaves them open to our bold Invasion.
But grant that Peterson deceive my Aim,
And hold the Rank of Virtue; then the Swedes
May waken to the glorious Call of Honour.
So—ev'ry Way it saves us from the Guilt
Of Swedes encount'ring Swedes, and spares the Blood
Of Brethren, tho' revolted.

And.
On my Soul,
This is a Stratagem that saps the Miner,
Makes Treason turn a Traitor to itself;
And mock its own Designs.

Gust.
O noble Friend, fast winds the great Machine
That strikes the Fate of Sweden—Go, my Anderson,
Assemble all thy brave Adherents round thee,
With warlike Inspiration warm their Souls,
And haste to join me here.

And.
I will, my Lord.

[Exit.