And bow her general issue to the yoke
Of private domination; then, thou proud one,
Here know me for thy king. Howe'er, be told,
Not claim hereditary, not the trust

Of frank election;

Not even the high anointing hand of Heaven,
Can authorize oppression, give a law
For lawless power, wed faith to violation,
On reason build misrule, or justly bind
Allegiance to injustice. Tyranny

Absolves all faith; and who invades our rights,
Howe'er his own commence, can never be

But a usurper.

There is no name.

Thou hast abjured mankind,

Dashed safety from thy bleak, unsocial side,

And waged wild war with universal nature.

Cris. Licentious traitor! thou canst talk it largely. Who made thee umpire of the rights of kings,

And power, prime attribute

as on thy tongue

The poise of battle lay, and arms of force,
To throw defiance in the front of duty?
Look round, unruly boy! Thy battle comes
Like raw, disjointed mustering, feeble wrath,
A war of waters, borne against the rock
Of our firm continent, to fume, and chafe,
And shiver in the toil.

Gus. Mistaken man!

I come empowered and strengthened in thy weakness; For though the structure of a tyrant's throne

Rise on the necks of half the suffering world,

Fear trembles in the cement; prayers, and tears,
And secret curses, sap its mouldering base,
And steal the pillars of allegiance from it;
Then let a single arm but dare the sway,
Headlong it turns and drives upon destruction.

Cris. Profane, and alien to the love of Heaven!
Art thou still hardened to the wrath divine,
That hangs o'er thy rebellion? Know'st thou not
Thou art at enmity with grace, cast out,
Made an anath'ema, a curse enrolled
Among the faithful, thou and thy adherents
Shorn from our holy church, and offered up
As sacred to perdition?

Gus. Yes, I know,

THE WILL.

When such as thou, with sacrilegious hand,
Seize on the apostolic key of heaven,

It then becomes a tool for crafty knaves
To shut out virtue, and unfold those gates
That Heaven itself had barred against the lusts
Of avarice and ambition. Soft and sweet,
As looks of charity, or voice of lambs

That bleat upon the mountains, are the words
Of Christian meekness! mission all divine!
The law of love sole mandate.

Cris. No more of this!

Gustavus, wouldst thou yet return to grace,
And hold thy motions in the sphere of duty,
Acceptance might be found.

Gus. Imperial spoiler !

Give me my father, give me back my kindred,
Give me the fathers of ten thousand orphans,
Give me the sons in whom thy ruthless sword
Has left our widows childless! Mine they were,
Both mine, and every Swede's, whose patriot breast
Bleeds in his country's woundings. O, thou canst not,
Thou hast outsinned all reckoning! Give me, then,
My all that's left
my gentle mother, there,

And spare yon little trembler !

Cris. Yes, on terms

Of compact and submission.

Gus. Ha! with thee?

Compact with thee? and mean'st thou for my country,
Compact, submission, thraldom, for my country,
For Sweden? No! So hold my heart but firm,
Although it wring for 't, though blood drop for tears,
And at the sight my straining eyes start forth
All of my kin that's left shall perish first!

BROOKE (altered).

XIV. THE WILL.

Characters. -SWIPES, a brewer; and 'SQUIRE DRAWL.

CURRIE, a saddler; FRANK MILLINGTON,
Enter SWIPES, R., CURRIE, L.

Swipes. A sober occasion this, brother Currie! Who would have thought the old lady was so near her end?

Currie. Ah! we must all die, brother Swipes. Those who live longest outlive the most.

Swipes. True, true; but, since we must die and leave our earthly possessions, it is well that the law takes such good care of us. Had the old lady her senses when she departed? Cur. Perfectly, perfectly. 'Squire Drawl told me she read every word of her last will and testament aloud, and never signed her name better.

Swipes. Had you any hint from the 'Squire what disposition she made of her property?

Cur. Not a whisper! the 'Squire is as close as a miser's purse. But one of the witnesses hinted to me that she has cut off her graceless nephew with a shilling.

Swipes. Has she? Good soul! Has she? You know I come in, then, in right of my wife.

Cur. And I in my own right; and this is, no doubt, the reason why we have been called to hear the reading of the will. 'Squire Drawl knows how things should be done, though he is as air-tight as one of your own beer-barrels, brother Swipes. But here comes the young reprobate. He must be present, as a matter of course, you know. (Enter FRANK MILLINGTON, R.) Your servant, young gentleman. So, your benefactress has left you, at last!

Swipes. It is a painful thing to part with old and good friends, Mr. Millington.

Frank. It is so, sir; but I could bear her loss better, had I not so often been ungrateful for her kindness. She was my only friend, and I knew not her value.

Cur. It is too late to repent, Master Millington. You will now have a chance to earn your own bread.

Swipes. Ay, ay, by the sweat of your brow, as better people are obliged to. You would make a fine brewer's boy, if you were

not too old.

Cur. Ay, or a saddler's lackey, if held with a tight rein.

Frank. Gentlemen, your remarks imply that my aunt has treated me as I deserved. I am above your insults, and only hope you will bear your fortune as modestly, as I shall mine submissively. I shall retire. (As he is going, R., enter 'SQUIRE DRAWL, R.)

'Squire. Stop, stop, young man! We must have your presence. Good-morning, gentlemen; you are early on the ground. Cur. I hope the 'Squire is well to-day.

'Squire. Pretty comfortable for an invalid.

Swipes. I trust the damp air has not affected your lungs. 'Squire. No, I believe not. You know I never hurry. Slow and sure is my maxim. Well, since the heirs at law are all

convened. I shall proceed to open the last will and testament of your deceased relative, according to law.

Swipes. (While the 'SQUIRE is breaking the seal.) It is a trying scene to leave all one's possessions, 'Squire, in this manner! Cur. It really makes me feel melancholy when I look round and see every thing but the venerable owner of these goods. Well did the preacher say, All is vanity!

'Squire. Please to be seated, gentlemen. (All sit. - The 'SQUIRE puts on his spectacles, and reads slowly.) "Imprimis: Whereas my nephew, Francis Millington, by his disobedience and ungrateful conduct, has shown himself unworthy of my bounty, and incapable of managing my large estate, I do hereby give and bequeath all my houses, farms, stocks, bonds, moneys, and property, both personal and real, to my dear cousins, Samuel Swipes, of Malt-street, brewer, and Christopher Currie, of Flycourt, saddler." ('SQUIRE takes off his spectacles to wipe them.) Swipes. (Dreadfully overcome.) Generous creature! kind soul ! I always loved her.

Cur. She was good, she was kind! She was in her right mind. Brother Swipes, when we divide, I think I will take the mansion-house.

Swipes. Not so fast, if you please, Mr. Currie! My wife has long had her eye upon that, and must have it. (Both rise.) Cur. There will be two words to that bargain, Mr. Swipes! And, besides, I ought to have the first choice. her a new chaise every time she wished to ride? what influence

Swipes. Am I not named first in her will?

Did not I lend

And who knows

And did I not

furnish her with my best small beer for more than six months? And who knows.

Frank. Gentlemen, I must leave you. (Going.)

'Squire. (Wiping his spectacles, and putting them on.) Pray, gentlemen, keep your seats. I have not done yet. (All sit.) Let me see; where was I? Ay,- "All my property, both personal and real, to my dear cousins, Samuel Swipes, of Malt-street, brewer

Swipes. Yes!

'Squire. "And Christopher Currie, Fly-court, saddler " Cur. Yes!

'Squire. "To have and to hold IN TRUST, for the sole and exclusive benefit of my nephew, Francis Millington, until he shall have attained the age of twenty-one years; by which time I hope he will have so far reformed his evil habits, as that he may safely

be intrusted with the large fortune which I hereby bequeath to him."

Swipes. What's all this? You don't mean that we are humbugged? In trust! —how does that appear? Where is it? 'Squire. (Pointing to the parchment.) There! In two words of as good old English as I ever penned.

Cur. Pretty well too, Mr. 'Squire, if we must be sent for to be made a laughing-stock of! She shall pay for every ride she had out of my chaise, I promise you!

Fine times, if two

Swipes. And for every drop of my beer. sober, hard-working citizens are to be brought here to be made the sport of a graceless profligate! But we will manage his property for him, Mr. Currie! We will make him feel that trustees are not to be trifled with!

Cur. That will we!

'Squire. Not so fast, gentlemen; for the instrument is dated three years ago, and the young gentleman must already be of age, and able to take care of himself. Is it not so, Francis? Frank. It is, your worship.

'Squire. Then, gentlemen, having attended to the breaking of this seal according to law, you are released from any further trouble in the premises.

Remnant. Well, I am resolved I'll collect my bill of Col. Blarney this time. He shan't put me off again. This is the twentieth time, as I'm a sinner, that I have dunned him! His smooth words shan't humbug me now. No, no! Richard Remnant is not such a goose as to be paid in fine words for fine clothes. (Takes out a long bill, and unrolls it.) A pretty collection of items, that! Why, the interest alone would make a good round sum. But hark! He is coming. (Hastily rolls up the bill, and returns it to his pocket.)

Enter COL. BLARNEY, R.

Blarney. Ah! my dear Remnant, a thousand welcomes! How delighted I am to see you! And what stupidity on the part of my people not to make you enter at once! True, I had given orders that they should admit nobody; but those orders

*The initials R. and L. stand for the Right and Left of the stage, facing the audience.