University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

Enter Arvida leading in Cristina. He runs to Gustavus.
Gust.
My Arvida!

Arv.
My King! O hail! Thus let me pay my Homage.

[Kneels.
Gust.
Rise, rise, nor shame our Friendship.

Arv.
See, Gustavus! Behold, nor longer wonder at my Frailty.

Gust.
Be faithful Eyes! Ha! Yes, it must be so.
'Tis she—For Heav'n would chuse no other Form
Wherein to treasure ev'ry mental Virtue.

Cristina.
Renown'd Gustavus! mightiest among Men!
If such a Wretch, the Captive of thy Arms,
Trembling and aw'd in thy superior Presence,
May find the Grace that ev'ry other finds,
For thou art said to be of wond'rous Goodness!
Then hear, and O excuse a Foe's Presumption!
While low, thus low you see a suppliant Child,
Now pleading for a Father, for a dear,
Much lov'd; if cruel, yet unhappy Father.
O, let him 'scape; who ne'er can wrong thee more!
If he with circling Nations could not stand
Against thee single; singly, what can he,
When thou art fenc'd with Nations?

Gust.
Ha! that Posture!
O rise—surpriz'd, my Eye perceiv'd it not.
Cristina! thou all form'd for Excellence!
I've much to say, but that my Tongue, my Thoughts
Are troubled; warr'd on by unusual Passions.
'Twas hence thou had'st it in thy Power to ask,
'Ere I could offer—Come, my Friend, assist,
Instruct me to be grateful. O Cristina!
I fought for Freedom, not for Crowns, thou fair one,
They shall sit brighter on that beauteous Head,
Whose Eye might awe the Monarchs of the Earth,
And light the World to Virtue—My Arvida!

Arv.
O great and good, and glorious to the last!
I read thy Soul, I see the gen'rous Conflict,
And come to fix, not trouble thy Repose.
Cou'd you but know with what an eager Haste
I sprung to execute thy late Commands;
To shield this lovely Object of thy Cares,
And give her thus, all beauteous to thy Eyes!
For I've no Bliss but thine, have lost the Form
Of ev'ry Wish that's foreign to thy Happiness.
But, O, my King! my Conq'rer! my Gustavus!
It grieves me much that thou must shortly mourn,
Ev'n on the Day in which thy Country's freed,
That crowns thy Arms with Conquest and Cristina.

Gust.
Alas! your Cheek is pale—You bleed, my Brother!

Arv.
I do indeed—to Death.

Gust.
You have undone me:
Rash, headstrong Man! O was this well, Arvida?

[turns from him.
Arv.
Pardon, Gustavus! mine's the common Lot,
The Fate of Thousands fall'n this Day in Battle.
I had resolv'd on Life, to see you bless'd;
To see my King and his Cristina happy.
Turn, thou beloved, thou honour'd next to Heav'n!
And to thy Arms receive a Penitent,
Who never more shall wrong thee.

Gust.
O Arvida!
Friend! Friend!

[turns and embraces him.
Arv.
Thy Heart beats Comfort to me! in this Breast,
Let thy Arvida, let thy Friend survive.
O, strip his once lov'd Image of its Frailties,
And strip it too of ev'ry fonder Thought,
That may give thee Affliction—Do, Gustavus;
It is my last Request; for Heav'n and thou
Art all the Care, and Business—of Arvida.

[Dies.
Gust.
Friend! Brother! speak—He's gone—and here is all
That's left of him who was my Life's best Treasure.
How art thou fall'n, thou greatly valiant Man!
In Ruin graceful, like the Warrior Spear
Tho shiver'd in the Dust—so fall Gustavus—
But thou art sped, hast reach'd the Gole before me;
And one light Lapse throughout thy Course in Virtue
Shews only thou wer't Man, ordain'd to strive,
But not attain Perfection.—
Dost thou too weep? transcendent, loveliest Maid!
Pardon a Heart o'ercharg'd with swelling Grief,
That in thy Presence will not be exil'd,
Tho' ev'ry Joy dwells round thee.

Crist.
O Gustavus!
A Bosom pure like thine must soon regain
The Heart-felt Happiness that dwells with Virtue;
And Heav'n on all exterior Circumstance
Shall pour the Balm of Peace, shall pay thee back
The Bliss of Nations, breathing on thy Head
The Sweets that live within the Pray'rs of Foes
Subdued unto thy Merits—fare, farewell!

Gust.
Thou shalt not part, Christina.

Cristina.
O—I must—

Gust.
No, thou art all that's left to sweeten Life,
And reconcile the wearied to the World.

Cristina.
It will not be—I dare not hear—

Gust.
You must.
I am thy Suppliant in my Turn—but O
My Suit is more, much more than Life or Empire,
Than Man can merit, or Worlds give without thee.

Cristina.
Now aid me, aid me all ye chaster Pow'rs
That guard a Woman's Weakness!—'tis resolv'd—
Thy own Example charms thy Suit to Silence.
Nor think alone to bear the Palm of Virtue,
Thou, who hast taught the World, when Duty calls;
To throw the Bar of ev'ry Wish behind them.
Exalted in that Thought, like thee I rise,
While ev'ry less'ning Passion sinks beneath me.
Adieu, adieu, most honour'd, first of Men,
I go, I part, I fly, but to deserve thee.

Gust.
Yet stay—a Moment—till my utt'ring Heart
Pour forth in Love, in Wonder pour before thee,
Thou cruel Excellence—Woud'st thou too leave me?
Not if the Heart the Arms of thy Gustavus
Have Force to hold thee.

Cristina.
O delightful Notes!
That I do love thee, yes, tis true, my Lord.
The Bond of Virtue, Friendship's sacred Tie,
The Lover's Pains, and all the Sisters Fondness,
Mine has the Flame of ev'ry Love within it.
But I have a Father, guilty if he be,
Yet is he old; if cruel, yet a Father.
Abandon'd now by ev'ry supple Wretch
That fed his Years with Flattery. I am all
That's left to calm, to sooth his troubled Soul,
To Penitence, to Virtue; and perhaps
Restore the better Empire o'er his Mind,
True Seat of all Dominion—Yet Gustavus
Yet there are mightier Reasons—O farewell!
Had I ne'er lov'd I might have stay'd with Honour.

[Exit.
Gustavus looks after Cristina, then turns and looks on Arvida—Anderson, Arnoldus, &c. advance.
And.
Behold my Lord, behold the Sons of War,
Of Triumph, turn'd to Tears; while from that Eye
All Sweden takes her Fate; and smiles around,
Or weeps with her Gustavus.

Arn.
Wilt thou not cheer them, say thou great Deliv'rer?

Siv.
O General!

1st Dale.
King!

2d Dale.
Brother!

3d Dale.
Father!

All.
Friend!

Gust.
Come, come, my Brothers all! Yes I will strive
To be the Sum of ev'ry Title to ye,
And you shall be my Sire, my Friend reviv'd,
My Sister, Mother, all that's kind and dear,
For so Gustavus holds ye—O I will
Of private Passions all my Soul divest,
And take my dearer Country to my Breast.
To publick Good transfer each fond Desire,
And clasp my Sweden with a Lover's Fire.
Well pleas'd, the Weight of all her Burdens bear;
Dispense all Pleasure, but engross all Care.
Still quick to find, to feel my People's Woes,
And wake that Millions may enjoy Repose.