Cfte iU&ratp 
 
 of tfje 
 
 (Hnfoersitp of JSottfc Carolina 
 
 Uf)ts book toad presented 
 
 fee 
 
 Tine General Educa.tionBoa.rd 
 
 V8AS 
 
 B54-'4-b 
 

THE BIRTH-DAY 
 
 [Price Two Shillings,J 
 
. 
 
 
 
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 t 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 I 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY : 
 
 A COMEDY ; 
 
 IN THREE ACTSe 
 
 AS PERFORMED AT THE 
 
 A 
 
 THEATRE-ROYAL , COVENT-GARDEN. 
 
 ALTERED FROM THE GERMAN OF KOTZEBUE, AND 
 ADAPTED TO THE ENGLISH STAGE, 
 
 By THOMAS DIB DIN, 
 
 Ai/THOX OF THE JEW AND THE DOCTOR, 'c* 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed by A. Strahan , Printers-Street j 
 FOR T, N, LONGMAN AND O. REES, FATERNOST ER-RO W* 
 
 I boo 
 
\ 
 
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 ' in 2018 with funding from 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 . - • • • ’. X \ 
 
 https://archive.org/details/birthdaycomedyinOOdibd 
 
4 3 4 ? 3 7 
 
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 L_> 1 JJ J ti > 
 
 * 
 
 North CaroLr.a 
 
 TO 
 
 j 
 
 THOMAS HARRIS Esq. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 The Play you have done me the honor to entruft 
 me with for alteration, is, in the following form, grate¬ 
 fully returned to you; if its value has been lefTcned 
 by my interlineations or abridgments, that value 
 has been amply reftored by the decided and flatter¬ 
 ing acceptance of the mod critical and enlightened 
 audience in the univerfe. 
 
 It was formerly my intention to have pointed 
 out, in this edition, the variations I have ventured 
 to make from the original; but the play of “Re- 
 conciliation” has now been fo long publiftied, and 
 the liberties I have taken with it have already been 
 fb ably examined, cenfured, and applauded, that 
 further difcrimination would be here unneceflary. 
 
 No one liftens with greater deference to the 
 voice of candid and impartial criticifm than my- 
 ielf; and where it defigns to amend while it corredts, 
 it is the real friend of every candidate for public 
 favour. Whatever may be its fentence on the 
 
 1 1 drama- 
 
 \ 
 
VI 
 
 drama before you ; however numerous the defers 
 it may expofe, I fhall at lead hope to be exempted 
 from cenfure in averting, that this Comedy €€ with 
 <c ail its imperfedtions on its head,''' is one of the 
 bed afted plays on the Englidi dage. I fay not 
 this to flatter the Performers:—to thank them 
 with flncerity is my duty, and never were thanks 
 on the part of an author more judly due. 
 
 As it was lad year the rage to applaud, it has 
 now become the fafhion to decry, the introdu&ion 
 of the German drama to our theatres. On this point 
 I dare not prefume to give any other opinion, than 
 that a play which recommends peace, amity, and 
 benevolence will be grateful to the feelings of an 
 Englifhman, whether the offspring of his own or 
 of any other country. 
 
 Your condudt to me, Sir, with regard to this 
 play, as in every other indance, has united the 
 gentleman with the man of bufinefs ; and it is with 
 truth and pleafure I fubfcribe myfelf, 
 
 i • : T ■ '' ■ * * 
 
 •» 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 With Refpedt and Efteem, 
 
 Your obliged and obedient Servant, 
 
 Thomas dibdin. 
 
PROLOGUE, . 
 
 SPOKEN BY MR. H. JOHNSTON. 
 
 A Foreign Mufe, not quite unknown to fame. 
 
 Once more prefumes your fuftrages to claim ; 
 
 Yet nothing alien to your hearts you’ll find, 
 
 Our author boafts a truly Britifti mind. 
 
 To wake each foft emotion of the foul. 
 
 And each ungentle pallion to controul; 
 
 To build our happinefs on other’s eafe, 
 
 Domeftic virtue, and domeftic peace; 
 
 Thefe are his leftons; and their truth we own 
 In Britain, from the cottage to the throne. 
 
 Tho’ loud the trump of fame her clarion founds. 
 And England’s glory thro’ the world rebounds; 
 
 Her arts, her commerce fpread from lhore to fihore, 
 Wherever winds can blow or oceans roar: 
 
 ’Tis not her valour only awes mankind. 
 
 She claims the nobler empire of the mind— 
 
 Her gallant fon, the bold and hardy tar. 
 
 Brave and impetuous in the florm of war. 
 
 Lull’d by the gentle gales of peace to reft. 
 
 Feels all the milder virtues warm his breaft; 
 
 He praifes heav’n for vid’ry o’er his fee. 
 
 And gives a tear to ev’ry child of woe. 
 
 One fuch to-night we bring before your view. 
 
 To paffion fomewhat given, we own, ’tis true ; 
 When injur’d, warm; when reconcil’d, fincere; 
 
 And is not this an Englifh chara&er? 
 
 Butftcp—no more of chara&ers I’ll fay — 
 
 You’ll know them all, when you have heard ourpk 
 To their own merits let them truft their caufe, 
 
 ^cur frown condemns—lave them by your applaufe. 
 
PRAMATIS PERSONS 
 
 Captain Bertram 
 Mr. Bertram 
 Harry Bertram 
 Jack Junk - 
 Lawyer Circuit 
 William - - - 
 
 i r 
 
 Emma - - - - 
 
 Mrs. Moral - - 
 
 Ann - - * - 
 
 Mr. Mun'den. 
 Mr. Murray. 
 Mr. Johnston. 
 Mr. Fawcett, 
 Mr, Waddy. 
 
 Mr. Abbott, 
 
 Mrs. Pope. 
 
 Mrs. Davenport, 
 Mrs. Whitmore, 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY, 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 \ 
 
 SCENE I .—Outfide of Bertram’s Houfe , a neat 
 Cottage Building , with a Barn near it. 
 
 Enter William; Ann enters from the houfe* 
 
 William. 
 
 /^OOD morrow, Mrs. Ann I—Well, how does 
 ^ veycher’s lodger your mailer ? 
 
 Ann. 
 
 He has fiept well, William; he mends every 
 day. 
 
 William. 
 
 I’m main glad, for Mifs Emma's fake: and, 
 ecod, for your fake, Mrs. Ann.—But I be afraid he is 
 not quite fo tighcifh yet.—I often do hear un cough. 
 
 Ann. 
 
2 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Ann. 
 
 Ay, ay ; but the do&or fays, if the heart is found, 
 never mind the lungs. 
 
 William. 
 
 Ecod, and zo do I zay. Better lofe all the 
 lungs than only have half a heart. 
 
 Ann. 
 
 I’m lure my poor mailer has heart enough j I 
 was his nurfe from a .child.—He was always good- 
 natured, and if Providence has denied him riches, 
 it was. to keep him from being a mifer, like his 
 brother. 
 
 /}, William. 
 
 They do zay that the Captain and your mailer 
 ha’ gotten into a law-fuit. 
 
 Ann. 
 
 Ay, it has laded fifteen years; and for what, 
 I trow?—why, a lhabby little garden. IPs a lhame 
 for fo rich a body-— 
 
 'William. 
 
 I thinks an Mifs Emma were to go to hirm—— 
 
 Ann. 
 
 She ha’n’c feen him fince die were a year old. 
 She go ! What to be fcoff’d and jeer’d, I warrant, 
 by the madam that governs him :—No, no, (he’s 
 too good for that. The Captain’s fon has been 
 turn’d out of doors already, through her and that 
 
 Lawyer 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 3 
 
 Llwyer Circuit; and you may be fure (he’ll pre¬ 
 vent any one elfe from coming into favour. 
 
 / 'i 
 
 0 
 
 William, 
 
 Here comes Mifs Emma and the old gentleman* 
 I do loye the very fight of her:—and, ecod, if the 
 old houtekeeper, or any one elfe, were to jeer at her, 
 as you call it, I (hould like to have the pummelling 
 o' un, that’s all, [Exit into Barn , 
 
 Enter Mr. Bertram and Emma from Houfe. 
 
 * f 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 \ i 
 
 Here let me walk—Here the air is pleafant* 
 
 Enter Harry. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Ah! charrtiing to fee' you for the firfl time 
 breathing the frefh air*, 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Welcome, my good fir—Give me your hand. 
 
 ’ * * 
 
 Emma; 
 
 Good morning, dear Mr* Danvers. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 How happy mud a man feel whofe liberality 
 faved the life of a father, and reftored to a helpiefs 
 orphan her only prote&on 
 
 B 2 
 
 Harry- 
 
4 
 
 THE BIRTH.DAY. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Were our profefiion always in unifon with our 
 wifhes, vve fhou’d be happy indeed ! 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Is it therefore lefs noble when you do your utmoft 
 endeavour ? 1 knew you not, when poverty and 
 the lofs of my caufe appeared inevitable ; but you 
 came day and night, procured me medical affift- 
 ance, and comforted me, or my Emma, by your 
 benevolent looks. You gave confolation and con¬ 
 fidence, two things abfolucely neceffary for a Tick 
 man. 
 
 Harry, 
 
 Why have I permitted you to fay fo much ? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 To-day I celebrate my fixty-third birth-day ; for 
 that I am to thank you. My child is not an orphan j 
 for that alfo I thank you, my dear friend. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 I muft abfolutely forbid this kind of converfation. 
 I have done my duty, and I wifh I could always 
 fucceed fo well. When we fpoke lad night of your 
 Birth-day, I hoped that I fhou’d this morning be 
 enabled to give you rhe welcome news, that your 
 law-fuit with your brother was at an end. 
 
 * 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 That wou’d, indeed, be a delightful prefent to 
 
 me. 
 
 Harry. 
 
f 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 5 
 
 Harry. 
 
 And I have not yet loft my hopes. There is 
 every reafon to fuppofe my endeavours will be at 
 laft fuccefsful. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 And what reafon have I to fuppofe I fhall ever 
 be able to reward exertions fo perfectly difinterefted? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Not fo difinterefted as you may imagine. 
 
 Enter Ann, from Houfe . 
 
 Ann. 
 
 Breakfaft is ready, Sir. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Will you. Sir, partake with me ? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 I have a friend in the neighbourhood whom 
 I muft vifit. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Not a moment will I detain you—I know by 
 experience the value of your friendfhip too well, 
 to wilh for an inftant to monopolize it. 
 
 [Exit, led by Ann, into Houfe . 
 
 g 2 Emma. 
 
6 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 What will you think of me, my dear Sir, that I 
 was fo filent when my father returned you his 
 thanks ? But I don’t know bow it happens, when 
 I wifh to fpeak, tears interrupt my words. —Don’t 
 you think that my father wall live to be very old 
 now r 
 
 Harry, 
 
 If he is careful not to exert himfelf too much, 
 
 EmM4» 
 
 That fhall be my care. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 And will you always remain with him l 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Always, always. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 But if other duties fhould call upon you r— 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Other duties! What duties can be more faered ? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 The duties of a wife, of a mother. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 No—I never intend to marrv. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 • t 
 
THE BIRTH-D AY. 
 
 7 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Never marry ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Not if I fhould be obliged to leave my father, 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Your hufband would fupply the place of a fon. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 And the fon would take the daughter from the 
 father. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 r*f 
 
 But if a man could be found who would bellow 
 on your father a quiet old age, free from every for- 
 row j who, far from robbing the father of a good 
 daughter, would weave the garland of love round 
 three hearts, who would live under his roof, and 
 multiply your joys, by reconciling your father and 
 your uncle—— 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Such a one, indeed, if I could meet him, 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Cou’d you love him ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Cou’d you do otherwife ? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 And if your father fhould bid you give your 
 heart and hand to that man 
 
 B 4 
 
 Emma, 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 $ 
 
 Emma. 
 
 I wou’d do it with pleafure. But that is all I 
 cou’d give him, becaufe we are poor. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Oh! you know not how rich you are! There 
 are men yet in the world, who know the value of 
 goodnefs.—Adieu ! But remember our conven¬ 
 tion. A time may come when I (hall remind you 
 of it. 
 
 (Leads her to the Cottage and returns .) 
 
 So far, fo well—Were I to difclofe to my friend 
 Bertram, that I am the fon of that brother with 
 whom he is at variance, all my hopes of happinefs 
 would be quickly overturned :—but if I can, un- 
 difcovered, pafs a day longer as his friendly agent, 
 my fcheme will certainly be fuccefsful. And if, 
 by means of it, I obtain my Emma, finiffi a law- 
 fuit, and reconcile a divided family, I fhall have 
 the fatisfadion of doing a good office to my fellow- 
 creatures, while, at the fame time, 1 am laying up 
 felicity for myfelf, [Exit, 
 
THE BIRTH*D A V, 
 
 9 
 
 SCENE II,— A Room at Captain Bertram’s, 
 
 Jack Junk difcovered drinking , 
 
 Junk. 
 
 My matter’s birth-day ! ( drinks .)—Sixty-three 
 years!—May he live!—no matter how long, fo 
 he out-lives me.—There’s his Ton Harry, a dog! 
 playing his mafquerade tricks within hail:—but 
 Tve Cent him a (hot that will bring him to, I war¬ 
 rant.—-Soh!—here comes our hypocritical houfe- 
 keeper: —what a devil of a thing for an old tar, 
 who has patted half his life at fea, to be plagued on 
 fliore by a Purfer in petticoats. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 What, drinking again !—I tell you its both im¬ 
 moral and ungenteel. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 And I tell you its damn’d good.—It goes down 
 you fee: for it’s my matter’s health. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Pflia ! drinking healths makes people lick > and 
 I dare fay made our matter’s brother fo ill. 
 
 Junk. 
 
THE BI R T H • I> A V. 
 
 I® 
 
 v 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Or who knows but he came along-lide of a 
 troublefome houfekeeper. Your health, Mrs. 
 Moral:—Pfha ! the toaft flicks in my throat. 
 Will you drink, Mrs. Moral ? It’s fine grog. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 • f * -4 
 
 % * 
 
 Grog! how ungenteei! (drinks hearty.) 
 what fhocking fluff 1 
 
 0 i 
 
 Junk. 
 
 You drink as if you cou’dn’t bear the fight of it* 
 Well, how is the Captain’s gout ? I hope he’ll 
 live, 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Under my care a couple of months at leaft. 
 
 What ? 
 
 Junk. 
 
 fall- 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Till Autumn; but when the leaves begin to 
 
 Junk, 
 
 Avail! No, no— (moved, and then angry) The 
 leaves fall! No, no—I fay— 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 / 
 
 What immorality ! If you fay no till you’re tired, 
 and Death fays yes once, it’s all over. 
 
 Junk. 
 
T H E BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 When the leaves begin to fall! Has the Doflor 
 
 faid To ? 
 
 Mrs. Moral, 
 
 The Doctor! nonfenfe ! I warrant I know as 
 much as the Dodlor. The Captain has the gout, 
 and if once it gets into his Itomach he’s gone. 
 
 it .gets in 
 
 Junk. 
 
 I had better go too, or I fhall lofe my temper. 
 The gout in his ftomach—Well, well! only to think 
 the Captain fhou’d have taken fo many prizes of all 
 nations, to be run down by a Tartar at \?&( look¬ 
 ing at Mrs . Moral ,) [£*//. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 The fellow ! how ungenteel! and what a contrail: 
 to my dear friend Mr. Circuit. Oh, here he 
 comes! 
 
 Enter Circuit. 
 
 Ah! Mr. Circuit, fo foon to fee you~«—- 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 So foon—fo late, you mean.—-The lawfuifs 
 ended, and fo are our profits j for the brothers have 
 juft figned a bond of arbitration. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Arbitration ! Without confulting you, or afkin£ 
 my advice ? 
 
 Circuit, 
 
12 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 It’s true, as I’m an honeft man. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 How vaftly ungenteel! But: what fhall we do, 
 Mr. Circuit ? 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Defeat their proje£ts—Create fufpicions, and re¬ 
 new the quarrel. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 But* if we fliould not fucceed in keeping them at 
 variance— 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Why, then, they muft make it up. A fine 
 theatrical fcene will follow—the two old fools will 
 fall a-crying, Mifs will wheedle her uncle out of a 
 good legacy, and we fhall be nonfuited. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 And have I been fo careful of the Captain for 
 this ? Ah ! Mr. Circuit, ’tis for you I have played 
 my cards—’tis for you I have got Mr. Harry turned 
 out of the houfe.—The thoufand pounds 1 have 
 amafTed, and the legacy I expe&ed, were deftined 
 to accompany a heart which—but no will is 
 made yet, and none fhall be made but of your 
 drawing up $ and for the contents of it— 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Truft to my honefty. Though I can’t fee the 
 probability of the Captain’s difinheriting his fon, 
 after all. 
 
 Mrs. 
 
Mrs. Moral, 
 
 Were his Ton in want, ’tis probable the old man’s 
 heart might relent; but the independence his God¬ 
 father has left him, has only irritated the Captain 
 more; for 1 have made him believe, that that very 
 independence has been the caufe of his difrefped:. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 But that may one day or other be explained 
 away, Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 My dear Sir, impoflible ! — how very ungenteel 
 to doubt my fkill and forefight—And jfhou’d we 
 even fail, we have yet enough to fecure a cottage, 
 which, free from the immorality of the world, and 
 fweetened by love and affe&ion—— 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Better fweeten it with a rich legacy. But mum I 
 Here comes the Captain—Don’t forget your mo¬ 
 rality. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 How ungenteel to remind me of it! 
 
 Enter Captain Bertram. 
 
 (Mrs. Moral runs to get a chair.) 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Good morning—good morning. I have dept 
 rather too long : but for that I may thank my laft 
 night’s late vifitor. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
Circuit* 
 
 Have you had company* Sir ? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Only one guefb, only one; and the devil may 
 take him—the gout, my friend, the gout.—Take 
 a feat. Sir, if you like; or, if you prefer (landing* 
 it’s all the fame to me. As for me, I am fit for 
 nothing but to be nailed to a chain 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 The gout, Sir, is a complaint which often knocks 
 at the door of the rich. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Knock at the door ! Zounds, it breaks into the 
 houfe. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Hem! Pardon me, Captain; but I am told 
 you have figned a bond of arbitration? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Yes, I have; and what of that ? 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 And that you mean to fettle your Jaw-fuit with 
 your brother ? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Yes, I will; and wha; of that? 
 
 Circuit* 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 15 
 
 Circuit., 
 
 Adonifhing ! And how came you to have fuck 
 
 van idea after fifteen vears ? 
 
 * 
 
 Captain. 
 
 There you are right—It fhou’d have been done 
 fifteen years ago. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Now the bufinefs reds fo well. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 That is my reafonj becaufe it reds and never 
 advances. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 The great point would have come on to-day* 
 
 Captain. 
 
 And what fhould I have gained ? 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 You wou’d have known in what court of judice 
 the a&ion ought to have been brought. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 And then I fhou’d have the pleafure of beginning 
 the law-fuit over again. A mighty matter indeed 1 
 that, after fifteen years quarrelling, I fhou’d at lad; 
 know to which court of judice the action belongs. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 That is not my fault:—I am an honed man. 
 
 6 Captain. 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 16 
 
 I know that. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Your brother’s chicaneries—— 
 
 Captain. 
 
 That’s my reafon again.—He had no defire to 
 bring the adtion to an end till I was dead. But, 
 now I have driven him from the ocean of law into 
 the harbour of arbitration, 1 will blockade him 
 there, and take care he fhall not ef'cape me. 
 
 Circuit, 
 
 He’ll be the gainer by it. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 And if he fhould :—the whole nonfenfe is not 
 worth a hundred pounds. The law-luit has already 
 cod me five times that fum. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 But I fhoti’d be very forry fo bad a man Hiou’d 
 gain his point againft your honor. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Let him keep the garden his injuftice will never 
 let him enjoy it. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Your father mad zyoti the heir of it. 
 
 x i 
 
 Captain* 
 
He did To. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 And while you were on the boifterous Teas, fight¬ 
 ing the waves and the enemies of your country- 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Comes this wicked wretch—(I beg pardon, as he 
 is your honor’s brother)—and takes poffeflion of 
 the garden. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 So he did;—a dog ! 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 And if you fettle the law-fuit, a formal recon¬ 
 ciliation will take place. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Never, no, never! Pfha! It is not for my 
 brother’s fake I wifh the law-fuit finifhed—I do it 
 only for my own repofe. Fifteen years ago I would 
 not have fhrunk an inch from my right: — But now 
 I grow old—1 am plagued with an ungrateful fon— 
 tormented with the gout:—and I (hou’d like to 
 leave this world in peace. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Mod humanely faid. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 And like a Chriftian. 
 
 c 
 
 Circuit® 
 
THE BIRTH.DAY. 
 
 Circuit, 
 
 Perhaps, my dear Sir, you wou’d wiih to make 
 your will. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Make his will! For heav’n’s fake don’t talk of 
 his honor’s will. You break my heart at the idea. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Mrs. Moral, you’re a good foul! 1 have here a 
 
 prefent for you. You have watched me in my 
 illnels with tendernefs and anxiety. In return, I 
 give you— 
 
 Mrs. Moral {Juppreffing her eager expectation). 
 
 Give me !—O, dear Sir, what ? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 This book. You love to read books of mora¬ 
 lity $ and that contains fomething worth your atten¬ 
 tion. ’Tis an cc EfTay on Patience.” 
 
 Mrs. Moral ( afide ). 
 
 ’Tis a trial of patience, Pm fure, to be fobbed 
 off with a book after all.—My dear Sir, I (hall ne¬ 
 ver forget your liberality. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Stay till you perufe it, before you thank me. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 A book, indeed ! how ungenteel. 
 
 {Puts it in her pocket.) 
 
 Enter 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY* 
 
 I 9 
 
 Enter Jack Junk. 
 Junk. 
 
 Good morrow. Captain ! 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Good day. Junk. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 To-day is your birth-day. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 I know it. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 I am glad of it. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Weil, I know that too. 
 
 Circuit* 
 
 Your birth-day. Captain! 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Gracious heaven! And nobody thought of it. 
 How ungenteel! 
 
 Non fen fe! 
 
 Captain. 
 
 C '* r% 
 
 * 
 
 Circuit, 
 
20 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Hem! I beg, Captain, you would accept the 
 congratulations of an honed man, on the return of 
 this day. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Thank you—thank you. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 May heaven preferve you to a good old age, and 
 bedow on you its riched blefhngs, health and pro* 
 lperity. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 ' Belay ! it is enough. * 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 But, blefs me ! why do I Hand here, when every¬ 
 thing fliou’d be arranged in honor of this day ? 
 The prefent you have done me the honor to make 
 me, Sir, is doubly valuable, on the anniverfary of your 
 birth*—-Oh ! how I long to throw patience behind 
 the fire ! ( ajide,) [Exit . 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Captain, good day :—fhould your arbitration be 
 unfuccefsful, I hope you will command my fervices. 
 In the meantime I fee no rule to fhew caufe why I 
 ftiou’dn’t be your mod obedient humble fervant. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 You broke your tobacco-box yefterday. 
 
 Captain. 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 21 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Well, Junk, why do you remind me of that ?— 
 it was ftupid enough—I had a horrid pain in my 
 feet—the fait hath wou’d not help me—I took the 
 box, threw it on the ground, and broke it into a 
 thoufand pieces.—To be fure that gave me no 
 eafe—but don’t tell me of it again, Junk. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 I meant no harm, Captain ;—only I have bought 
 a box—if it is not too ordinary, and you would 
 accept of it from the hand of your old fervant 
 and brother feaman, I fhou’d be vadly pleafed. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 i*. 
 
 Let me fee it ? 
 
 Junk. 
 
 To be fure it is not gold—but it is what I 
 cou’d bed afford. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Give it to me, honed Junk.—I thank you. 
 
 s. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 And will you ule it too ? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Surely, Surely !— (feels in his pocket,) 
 
 Junk. 
 
 But I hope, Captain, you won’t attempt to pay 
 for it. 
 
 c 3 
 
 Captain. 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 22- 
 
 Captain. 
 
 No, no—you are right. 
 
 * i 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Huzza! huzza !—now will I have a jolly day 
 and as for Mrs. Moral, under favour, Captain, the 
 old girl is good for nothing. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Avail!—llacken fail there, my lad. If I had a 
 wife, perhaps fhe might think— <c Aye, there he 
 <f fits with his gout, grumble, grumble, grumble— 
 
 always a plague to me, and I muft bear with 
 
 him.”*—Now, I like Mrs. Moral ; fhe does 
 everything with fo much good will.—She's fond of 
 reading good books too.—I have juft given her 
 one—in which I haveinclofed a bank note :—when 
 fhe opens the book, fhe’ll think of me, and find I 
 have not forgot her kindnefs. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 You are too good to her :—fhe carries all fair to 
 your face—but when your back's turn'd, lhe's 
 for (lowing the gout in your honor’s flomach, and 
 fending you in a gale to old Davy. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Silence, I fay—'tis no fuch thing. 
 
 Junk, 
 
 I told her fo, Ihiver me if I didn't. But fhe 
 faid, <f Death had laid down your hull, and that 
 (f your honor would be launch'd at the fall of the 
 
 " leaf:” 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 2 3 
 
 cc leaf—and then the ftories fhe has told you of 
 your fon Harry- 
 
 Captain. 
 
 . ^ < 
 
 Hold your tongue, Junk—You are a libellous 
 rafcal. You, and your box too, may go to the devil. 
 —(throws the box away—a paufe.) 
 
 Junk (looking fomctmes at the box, feme times on 
 his majier with much feeling J. 
 
 I a libellous rafcal ? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Yes. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 You won’t have the box ? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Not I—I will take nothing from a man who 
 thinks himfelf the only good one. ( J unk takes up 
 the box and throws it out of the window). —Junk, 
 what are you about ? 
 
 Junk. 
 
 ' The box may go to the devil, though I don’t 
 choofe to follow it juft yet. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Are you mad ? 
 
 Junk. 
 
 What fhou’d I do with the box? You won’t 
 accept it, and I cou’dn’t keep it myfelf. When- 
 
 c 4 ever 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 *4 
 
 ever it came in my fight, I fliou’d think—Thou 
 art a miferable wretch. Junk: a man, whom 
 thou haft ferved thirty years honeftiy and faithfully 
 has called thee—damn it! I can fcarce fpeak the 
 words —“ a libellous rafcal.” This would draw 
 tears from me every day; but now the box is gone, 
 all the reft is forgotten. (IVith much feeling)— 
 I will think my dear mafter was Tick and in pain—- 
 ana that, however harfh his words were, he never 
 meant to hurt me. 
 
 Captain (much moved—after a paufe). 
 
 Junk, come here (gives him his hand )*—1 
 didn’t mean to hurt you. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 I knew that—For my part I meant honeftiy. 
 But when I fee you abufed by that hypocrite, and 
 cheated by the lawyer — - 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Why, Junk, I fancy the devil’s in you. What, 
 Mr. Circuit too, my attorney, the honefteft man 
 in the world ! But time will fhow—And mind. 
 Junk, if I find you tell me a lie, I’ll turn you out 
 of the houfe the next inftant. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 T urn me out of my berth! I don’t think. Captain, 
 you wou’d do that. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 I he devil I wou’dn’t!—But I fay, yes! I (hall 
 and will do it—And if you contradict me another 
 word, I will do it this inftant. 
 
 Junk 
 
i 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Junk (very indifferently ). 
 
 Well, then, old Junk will go into thehofpital. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 In the hofpital! What, what fhou’d you do 
 there ? 
 
 J UNK. 
 
 Die to be fure. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Die in the hofpital! Zounds! do you think I 
 can give you no other place but the hofpital to die 
 in when you are turned out of my houfe? 
 
 Junk, 
 
 Oh yes, no doubt you might; but damn me, I 
 wou’d rather go a-begging than live upon a man 
 who thought fit to turn me out of doors. 
 
 / 
 
 Captain. 
 
 This fellow’s pride is enough to give me a fit of 
 the gout. Twenty years ago, when we fell into 
 the hands of pirates—when they took everything 
 from me, you had concealed fome guineas with 
 which we got back to Old England. When a 
 mutiny broke out in my fhip, you difcover’d it to 
 me, and helped to quell it at the hazard of your 
 life: and now, damn it! you will die in the 
 hoipicai! 
 
 Junk 
 
,a6 
 
 T H E B I RTH-DAY. 
 
 Junk (moved). 
 
 Why, Captain!-- 
 
 Captain (with rifing enthufiajm). 
 
 And once, when we had two Frenchmen on 
 board, and one of them had juft hove up his arm 
 to fplit my fkull, you fell upon them both, and 
 faved my life; and yet (turning at once to Junk, 
 weeps )— I am to let you die in a hofpital; take 
 with me into the grave fuch ingratitude towards you! 
 ( weeps ) Speak inftantly, you dog, and fay you will 
 die with me. Come, boy, give me your hand.— 
 (Jhake hands.) 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Ah, my good mafter! I only wifti you to clofe 
 my eyes when I am dead. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Go, go, Junk—fetch me the tobacco-box again. 
 
 J UNK. 
 
 With pleafure, Captain.—And now if I could but 
 fee you and your brother reconciled-- 
 
 Captain. 
 
 I doubt if that will ever be, Jack. 
 
 , . Junk. 
 
 But Fm fure your honor wilhes it. 
 
 Captain. 
 
THE BIRTH.DAY. > 7 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Why ay, if I could but undo fome things which 
 have patted. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Bur who knows whether anything is true that 
 has been faid. There are folks in the world. Cap¬ 
 tain, who would fooner—— 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Yes, yes. Junk, you may be right. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Dear Captain, do play the lawyer a trick: put 
 your hand to fincere reconciliation—meet him half 
 way—he is (till your brother—you are twins—this 
 is your birth-day, I remember the time when you 
 celebrated it together with brotherly affection. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Y r es, yes, thofe were better times indeed, 
 
 r 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Your mother was always glad on that day. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Ay, fo fhe was—fhe was, Junk. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 On that day fhe always took you both in her 
 arms, and requefted you to love each other like 
 brothers. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 i 
 
28 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 #• 
 
 Captain. 
 
 She did fo—Oh ! I remember it well. 
 
 Junk, 
 
 In the laft year of her life. Hie faid —“ When I 
 “ am dead, always remember that day—nothing 
 cc muff difturb your mutual harmony.” — And if your 
 brother was to come now, with a friendly fmile— 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Come ! What, came here ? 
 
 Junk, 
 
 Yesj and if he ftretched out his arms—* 
 
 Captain ( with anxiety ). 
 
 What, ftretch out his arms ! [He ftretches out 
 his arms involuntarily , and draws them hack.) 
 
 Junk, 
 
 And fhou’d he fay, “ Brother Lewis, our mother 
 “ fees us!” 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Should he fay that—( agitated ). 
 
 Junk. 
 
 And if he Hew into your arms—— — 
 
 Captain {ftreiching out his arms). 
 
 O brother! brother! (falls on Junk’s arm). 
 That wou’d, indeed, be too much ! Junk, you 
 have made a lubber of me. 
 
 Junk. 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 *9 
 
 Junk. 
 
 And no difgrace, I hope. Captain. A feaman 
 never need blufh at the tear of borrow he fheds for 
 a fallen enemy, or the tear of joy at making peace 
 with him. [ Exeunt . 
 
 THE END OF THE FIRST ACT. 
 
 
3 ° 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY, 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 e 
 
 SCENE Ic —Outfide 0/BertramV Houfe. 
 
 EIarry enters , reading a Letter . 
 
 Harry. 
 
 cc Your honor, 
 
 <c When the commanding officer is difabled, 
 fc it is the duty of every Teaman to keep a 
 ff good look out a-head.—And if To be, as you 
 “ know, that the Captain’s timbers are ready to 
 “ dart, why it might become you more to take the 
 “ helm at home, than to be fculking within fight 
 of a fhip in diftrefs, without heaving to, as in 
 <c duty bound. Seeing your father’s gout will 
 <c foon get poffeffion of his upper works, and 
 <c give him failing orders for old Davy, why, if you 
 <c wasn’t my young mailer, I fhould like to put 
 “ you in mind of your duty with a good round 
 sc dozen ; being all at prefent from 
 
 “ John Junk, -J- his mark.” 
 
 <c P. S. Not being able to write myfelf, this letter 
 was wrote by me, his honor’s coachman •, and 
 cc Sukey chambermaid fays the fpelling is pretty 
 
 14 * c tightilh 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY, 
 
 3* 
 
 cc tightifh—who am your honor's humble fervanc 
 c< to command.” 
 
 {Ashe is reading Jack enters behind .) 
 
 So, fo—honed Jack has di(covered me,—and, it 
 Teems,joins in the general prejudice. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Avad there !—give Junk your fid.—I know all 
 your plots and plans—to-day mud finiJli them— 
 knock up old mother Moral, and reconcile your 
 father to your uncle. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 My dear Jack, forward my intentions, and III 
 be for ever obliged to you. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Then tell your uncle the garden is his—invite 
 him to pafs the afternoon in it, and leave the red 
 to me. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 This mud haden my intentions.—Retire, Jack ; 
 my uncle, as well as my father, is fo warm in his 
 refentment, that if he difcovered me, by feeing you 
 before we effedl the reconciliation-- 
 
 Junk. 
 
 It might never happen at all-—fo I’ll go, and 
 keep a good look out at the cadle. [Exit . 
 
 Enter 
 
I 
 
 32 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Enter Bertram and Emma from the Houfe» 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 My dear Sir, I am glad to fee you. You are here 
 in time to help me out of a Itrange perplexity.— 
 Wou’d you think it, I hold in my hand two bills 
 which have both been paid this morning without 
 coiling me a penny. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Pray, how may that be ? 
 
 1 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 By fome unknown benefadlor.—Cannot you affift 
 me in guefiing ? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 I ihou’d think there is but one man likely to do • 
 fuch an adtion. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Ah! who is that ? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Your brother ! 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 What, my brother pay bills, who for fifteen 
 years has put me to fuch expence, and made fuch 
 bitter allegations againft me in the courts of 
 juftice 1 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Thofe allegations were drawn by his attorney - 
 but your bills he has paid himfelf. 
 
 8 Bertram. 
 
TFf E BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 33 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Do you really think fo ? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 I have every reafon at leaft to believe fo. —He 
 inquired refpe&ing your concerns, 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Alas! you make my heart ache. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Should a brother’s love, my dear Sir, make 
 your heart ache ? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Benefa&ions from the hand of an enemy**®* 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Are the firft fieps into the field of friendfliip. 
 Emma (with a figh ). 
 
 O that I were only permitted to love my uncle! 
 
 Harry. 
 
 I hope, Mifs Emma, you will foon be allowed 
 to do fo. Dear Mr. Bertram, I am, at length, 
 the herald of peace. The lawfuit is at an end. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 To-day only I regret that poverty which pre¬ 
 vents my rewarding this worthy benefadlor. 
 
 o Harry. 
 
 Vi 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Poverty! Can you be poor while in pofTefTion 
 of fuch a daughter ? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 And what more can (he do than mingle tears 
 of gratitude with mine ? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Perhaps fhe could do fomething more ! 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 How ?—Mr. Danvers! 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Wou’d you think the worfe of me, if 1 were 
 interefted in all that I have done ? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 I do not comprehend you. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Do you not comprehend me, Emma? You 
 blufh 1 
 
 4 ♦ 
 
 Emma. 
 
 1 feel my cheeks burn $ but I know not why. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Did not you tell me this morning you cou’d 
 love the man who would make your father’s age 
 free from care ? 
 
 Emma.' 
 
35 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY, 
 
 Emma, 
 
 I did fo, indeed* Mr. Danvers, 
 
 Harry. 
 
 And that you wou’d give him your heart arid 
 hand !— (paufe: Emma looks down.)~~Did not 
 you fay that too ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 I remember I did, 
 
 Harry, 
 
 And will you (hrink from your word ? 
 
 Emma, 
 
 No. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 What, not if I were the man ? ('paufe .) Look 
 at me, Mifs Emma ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 I cannot. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 He can never be deceived in his choice of fe¬ 
 male excellence, who for feven months has obferved 
 a daughter at the bedfideof her fick father. Your 
 heart and hand is a greater treafure than monarchs 
 could beftow; for thefe I folicit, not as a reward, 
 but as an encouragement of my wifties to do well. 
 
 Emma (overpowered flies into her father's arms)* 
 
 My father! 
 
 D 2 
 
 Bertram. 
 
: 6 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Emma, my child, you have a father’s blefTmg i 
 Take him.—With that embrace you have relieved 
 me from years of forrow. I fhall leave no orphan 
 unprotected in the world. The fortune of my child 
 js truth and virtue; and thefe are now in the hands 
 of a good man. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 In your increafed circle of domeftic joys, your, 
 heart will play with greater freedom. Only one is 
 now wanting to complete our felicity—your brother* 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 He will not make the firft ftep, and I cannot* 
 
 Harry. 
 
 W hy not ? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Becaufe my brother is rich. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 ^ I honor that fentiment. You fhall not make the 
 firft ftep. —But allow me to requeft that Mifs 
 Emma will go to her uncle, and congratulate him 
 on his birth-day. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 With all my heart, 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Confider, how deeply hurt we fhall all be, fliould 
 fhe return without obtaining her wifh. 
 
 9 
 
 Harry* 
 
I 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 37 
 
 Harry. 
 
 There is no fear—1 know your brother, and 1 
 know my Emma. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Well, I leave the event to Providence. 
 
 * 
 
 Harry. 
 
 And after that we will fpend a happy evening,, 
 We will meet in your garden. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 In my garden ? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 You mull fee how the garden looks which has 
 difunited the hearts of two brothers for fifteen years : 
 we and a couple more fincere friends—only a few 
 of us; but in every bread a heart. I have arranged 
 my plan, and you muftn’t difappoint me. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Well, well!—my old nurfe Ann fhall this in- 
 ftant bruOi my brown coat. W hy, Ann! fye! 
 fye upon it 1 that we have never thought of her. 
 
 [Exit into houfe . 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Go then, my Emma; and may the angel of peace 
 aid the perfuafions of your tongue! [ Exeunt . 
 
 » 3 
 
 

 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 3 
 
 SCENE II.— A Room at Captain Bertram’s. 
 
 Enter Mrs, Moral ( with papers'), 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Nine hundred and fifty pounds! Come, that s s 
 very genteel j and then in the will—let me fee -—- 
 
 Enter Emma, anxioujly looking round* 
 
 Emma. 
 
 I think the whole houfe is empty. 
 
 Mrs. Moral ( not feeing her). 
 
 Ay, ay; no fear of the will, unlefs that Mifs 
 Emma fliou’d unluckily make her appearance 5 
 and—Eh 1 why blefs me! (feeing Emma, and 
 putting up her pocket-hooky &c, hajlily How un- 
 genteel to interrupt people in this manner 1 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Your fervant, Madam. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Your fervant, Mifs.—Pray who are you, child, 
 and what do you want ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 I wifh to fee the Captain. 
 
 Mrs. 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 j9 
 
 Mrs. Moral, 
 
 And what bufinefs can you have with the 
 Captain ? 
 
 Emma, 
 
 I come to congratulate him on his Birth-day. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 O, vaflly fine ! poor people might have a dozen 
 birth-days in a year, and nobody would congratulate 
 them. And pray now, young woman, what have 
 
 you to do with the Captain’s Birth-day ? 
 
 * 
 
 Emma. 
 
 That, Madam, I wifh to tell him myfelf, 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Ay, ay, no doubt to tell him yourfelf. Yes, if 
 you could but fee him. But, child, I wou’d have 
 you to know I am miftrefs in this houfe—and lo, 
 any fecrets you have muft be firft told to me. 
 
 Emma, 
 
 I didn’t know my uncle was married. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Your uncle? Why, I cannot fuppofe! Yes, 
 yes, the face is nearly—What, you are one ot 
 Captain Bertram’s poor relations I fuppofe ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 I am one of his relations. Madam. 
 
 d 4 
 
 Mrs. 
 
40 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Mrs. Moral (locks at her contemptuoujly). 
 
 Why, I think, young woman, you have forme 
 diftant refemblance of your mother. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Did you know my late dear mother ? 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 By fight, child—But, good heaven, what do you 
 do here ? Don’t you know that the Captain won’t 
 fee nor hear anything of any part of the family ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 That was formerly; but now the law-fuit is 
 ended. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 What, is it finiflied ?—And have they at laft 
 cheated my poor matter ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 We are all rejoiced that it is at an end. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 O, I have not the lead doubt of it: and now 
 you think to build your nett here. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 No, Madam, we think no fuch thing, I afiiire 
 you: we only think that it is both handfome and 
 honorable that two brothers (hould love each other. 
 
 Mrs, 
 
THE BIRTH-D-AY. 
 
 4 1 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 I fuppofe your father taught you that fine fen- 
 tence. i dare fay you have ail your leffons by 
 heart—And you are come with your fmooth 
 fpeeches to foften the Captain : but go back in 
 the name of heaven—The Captain is ill-—he is 
 afleep—he has forbidden all vifitors ; and particu¬ 
 larly thofe from your father's houfe. 
 
 Emma, 
 
 May I not fee him then ? 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Lord, child, it would be of no ufe—you would 
 only lee an ill-natured old grumbler. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 But may I come again in the evening l 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 No to be fure—I dare not even fay you have 
 been here—He’d be fo angry, it wou’d bring on a 
 fit of the gout immediately. 
 
 Emma, 
 
 My poor father will be very forry to hear this. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 He mull fupport it-with Chriftian fortitude. I 
 dare fay he has bowed and cringed enough to pro¬ 
 cure a reconciliation : but you can have no idea, 
 child, what fort of a man the Captain is—he does 
 nothing but fwear and thunder all day—and for 
 
 nothing 
 

 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 nothing—I have plague enough with him, I am 
 fore.—Go, get you gone, young woman, I advife 
 you for your good; for, if he’s once in a paffion, 
 he.is the mofc ungenteel being upon earth. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 And yet my father always fays, he has a good 
 and honed heart. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Yes, yes, he may have an honed heart, but it is 
 a grumbling one. Tell your father, child, that I, 
 Mrs. Mora), have for fifteen years tried all in my 
 power to bring about a reconciliation ; but my en¬ 
 deavours have been entirely fruitiefs. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 My poor father! 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Poor—Yes, I hear he is poor—Good heaven, 
 everybody cannot be rich : but 1 really feel corn- 
 v pafIion for both you and your father. I am much 
 affe&ed—And to alleviate your didrefs, I’ll—yes, 
 I will—a generous action never goes unrewarded, 
 fo I’ll indantly-— 
 
 Emma (with expreffion of hope ). 
 
 What, my dear Madam ! 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Give you this little book—It’s an Eflay on Pa¬ 
 tience—it will teach your father refignation, and 
 you morality. Nay, you need not look fo fcornful 
 at it; it was the Captain’s own book, I allure you. 
 
 Emma. 
 
THE BIRTH.DAY. 
 
 45 
 
 Emma (takes the book). 
 
 Was it my uncle's l Then will I give it to my 
 father. Alas, how cruel the tidings which muft 
 accompany it! [Exit. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Aye, good bye to you, Child!—I'm glad fhe's 
 gone. It wou'd be a pretty thing, indeed, to let 
 people get in here, whom I have been employed in 
 keeping out for thefe fifteen years. 
 
 Enter Junk, bringing back Emma. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 What! the Captain's niece, and not fee him ! 
 
 .—Who's officer of the watch here, I wonder ?— 
 When fuch a neat rigg'd veflfel brings a flag of 
 truce, who fhall lay an embargo ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Wou'd to heav'n I cou'd bring peace! 
 
 Junk. 
 
 And who has forbidden you ? 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 1 have forbidden her. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 And by whofe orders ? 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 I warrant, Mr. Boatfwain, I know my buflnefs 
 without orders from you. Let the young woman 
 go her ways.—My mafter is afleep. 
 
 Junk. 
 
44 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 J UNK. 
 
 TheCaptain afleep!—Whew! Why I left him bu£ 
 this moment, to fetch fomething for him to read. 
 Mifs, if you will but flop a moment. Til pilot you 
 to the Captain in the turn of a handfpike. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 I’ll wait with pleafure. 
 
 Mrs. Moral (places h erf elf at the door). 
 
 I fay, die (hall not enter thefe doors, Mr. John, 
 
 Junk. 
 
 And I fay, make a clear fhip, or 1 fliall fall foul 
 of your morality.—And let me tell you, meffmate, 
 that whoever wou’d fland in the way of a treaty of 
 peace, deferves to have no fhare in the bleffings it 
 produces.— Follow me, Mifs. [Exit. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Well, Mifs, I congratulate you—I hope you are 
 
 perfect in your part.*--Turn me from the door 
 
 indeed ! And ior what? for at bell but an honed 
 beggar.—It’s very ungenteel indeed! [Exit. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Flow cruel is this woman! — Shou’d my 
 tincle be fo harfh as Hie reprefents—but, perhaps, 
 it was only to frighten me.—Yet, if he fhou’d be fo, 
 I make the facrifice for a father.—Be courageous, 
 Emma ! the mod wretched quarter of an hour is 
 over in fifteen minutes, and the fraternal enmity 
 has laded fifteen years. [Exit at the do & r % 
 
SCENE III.— The Captain's Apartment . The 
 Captain in his arm-chair , John by his fide , 
 Emma isfeen juft entering at the door in the flat 
 behind the Captain. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 My niece ! and what does fhe want with me ? 
 
 Junk. 
 
 1 don't know ; but fhe looks fo (weedy, that Ell 
 lay a wager (he comes to bring you fome good 
 news. 
 
 Captain {after a paufe). 
 
 Well, where is fhe ? 
 
 JuNK. 
 
 There fhe ftands behind your chair. 
 
 • ’ • • \ 
 
 Captain. 
 
 And how am I to get at her with my gouty legs? 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Come nearer, my dear Mils. 
 
 (Emma flops and befit atesd) 
 
 Captain ( liftening ). 
 
 I don’t hear anybody ftir. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 She trembles fo fhe can fcarcely walk. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 T remble ! What the deuce does fhe tremble for ? 
 
 Junk, 
 
4 6 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 She weeps. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 The devil! What doesfhe weep for? 
 
 Emma {coming forward ). 
 
 I come, dear uncle, to congratulate you. 
 
 Captain (rather quick ). 
 
 To congratulate me—on what ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 On your Birth-day. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Oh! I’m much obliged to you. I fuppofe yets 
 have only juft learn’d to walk, fince you come to¬ 
 day for the firft time. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Ever fince I have been able to think and to feel, 
 my heart has drawn me towards you. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 So! fo !—How old may you be ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Seventeen, Sir. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Yes, yes, it is about fifteen years fince I came 
 home. I remember you were then a little thing, 
 not as high as my knee. 
 
 Emma. 
 
THE BIRTH-D AY. 
 
 47 
 
 Emma. 
 
 And then my good uncle took me up in his 
 arms, and killed his little darling, as he uied to call 
 her. So my nurfe has often told me. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Ay, your good uncle was then a good fool. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 I loft my dear mother too foon. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Your mother! ay, Ihe was a good woman in¬ 
 deed ! Yes, very good! 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Had flie been living, many things wou’d not 
 have happened. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 That is very likely :—fhe prevented your father 
 from doing many fooiifh things. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Dear Sir, my father may be in the wrong. Ma¬ 
 licious people may have led him aftray—but his 
 affection for his brother they cou’d never erafe 
 from his heart. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 He has given me a great many proofs of his af¬ 
 fection for the laft fifteen years. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 All that is pafled ! Friendly decifion has thrown 
 a veil over what has happened,— cc Go to my bro- 
 
 14 cc ther,” 
 
48 
 
 The birth-day, 
 
 <c thcr,” faid m y father, 6t be thou the herald of 
 ec peace.—He will not turn thee away.— Thou arc 
 u innocent:—he loved you when you were a little 
 <c child :—he loved your motherfor her fake, 
 <c perhaps, he will reach out his hand towards you, 
 £C and you fhall then prefs it with filial affection’" 
 (much agitated ). 
 
 Captain (without locking at her ). 
 
 Why, to be lure, you are not the caufe of my 
 difpleafure.—You mud do what your father bids 
 you. I am not angry with you. But, now go^ 
 in the name of heaven.—What is your name ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Emma !*— Yes, yes, I believe I flood godfather 
 to you. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 And will my godfather—-will he who firft intro¬ 
 duced me into Chriftian fociety, who promifed me 
 love when i cou’d not prattle, let me go without 
 
 one friendly look ? 
 
 Captain ( turns his face quick towards her without 
 refting his eyes upon her). 
 
 There ! there then ! Now get you gone—You 
 fhall be remembered in my will ( a paufe ). 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Oh, that is very hard ! 
 
 Captain* 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 49 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Very hard ! What do you mean by hard ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 My deareft uncle, I wifh to (land in your heart, 
 
 not in vour will, 
 
 * 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Why, aye, that’s very well faid to be fure. But 
 I muft remember you in my will, becaufe I am 
 your godfather, and becaufe you have given your- 
 Self the trouble to come here. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Trouble! 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Here, take this little prefent (gives her apurfe 
 without looking at her ). 
 
 Emma (taking his hand with emotion , the fur/e 
 
 falls on the floor). 
 
 1 fee only the hand you offer me, not the prefent.. 
 This hand I will keep—-mingle tears with you* 
 prefent, and befeech you to take it back* 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Why, girl, you are proud ! 
 
 Emma* 
 
 I will be proud if you give me your love. Here 
 kneels the proud one by your fide, and begs for a 
 jfmgle look. My dear mother could leave me no- 
 
 e thing 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 «T 
 
 thing but her features—thele features might remind* 
 you of the friend of your youth, who is now ao 
 more—T hey will fofcen your heart, and give me 
 another father. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Junk, fhe has every line of her mother's face, 
 has not fhe? O 'the deuce. Junk, I can't ftand 
 this!—Take her away. 
 
 Junk (crying). 
 
 If I do Til be damn’d. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 What does the fellow cry for ? Junk, ; I tell you 
 take her from me. 
 
 (Junk takes up Emma and places her in the Cap* 
 
 tain *s arms.) 
 
 Emma. 
 
 My good—my deareft uncle ! 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Stop— Stop !—This is running foul of a man 
 by night, and in a fog. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 I fee a tear in your eye that is worth more than 
 all the guineas you offered me. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Well, well, I own myfelf overpowered.—Go 
 to your mother’s grave, and thank her for this*. 
 
 After 
 
THE BIRTH-DJT. 
 
 51 
 
 After you were chrlftened, I flood by her bed-fide, 
 and gave her my hand. She took mine with both 
 hers, and looked—juft as you do now .— 1c< My 
 <c dear brother/’ laid flie, “ this child I commit 
 cc to your kindnefs.—When 1 am dead—’ \ r paufes i ■ 
 much affected), Poor foui! In four weeks after 
 Ihe died. Come, my child—come to my heart, 
 
 /Emma Jinks on his hojom .— Apaufe .) 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Only look, Jack, this cunning gypfey has fof- 
 tened my heart, and made me cry like a woman, 
 Emma ! you huffey, get out of my fight ( embrac¬ 
 ing her clofely J. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Ah ! now I know my uncle’s heart, every fear is 
 vanifhed. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 What, you w^re afraid of me ? Perhaps people 
 told you I was a great fea-bear. 
 
 Emma, 
 
 The lady here in the houfe quite frightened me. 
 
 Captain, 
 
 Lady ? What lady ? 
 
 # 
 
 Junk. 
 
 O ! who but the fweet Mrs. Moral, Captain ? 
 
 E 2 
 
 Captain* 
 
52 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 - Captain. 
 
 Ay, ay, Mrs. Moral's name is like water to the 
 mill of your clack ! 
 
 J u NK. 
 
 . Why, then, the devil may hold his tongue* 
 When I came in, I found this dear, lovely girl 
 iuft going away with a tear in her eye :—the drop 
 was but fmall—but I wouldn't have it upon my 
 confcience fo, I afked Mifs her bufinefs here.—* 
 Ah ! faid fhe, 1 dare not fee my uncle.—Why 
 not ? faid I. Every one dare go to him, particu¬ 
 larly with a tear in their eye.—But Mrs. Moral 
 truly polled herfelf before the door: and fetting 
 her fat arms a-kimbo, pretended to prevent my 
 entering— Me> Jack Junky that have ferved my 
 good mailer thefe thirty years, Ihe had the impu¬ 
 dence to tell me I fhould not go, for my mailer 
 was aOeep.—I believe, however, I gave her fuch 
 a Ihove, as we are apt to do to any lazy land¬ 
 lubber that Hands in the way aboard fhip in a 
 florin. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 But look ye. Junk—you are apt to take things 
 the wrong way — perhaps fhe thought I was afleep ; 
 Hie meant well no doubt. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Well, Captain—Mifs Emma will bell be abk 
 10 tell us how Ihe was received. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 ^ aro fo gkd, now, that I have forgot all. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 
 i 
 
S3 
 
 THE BIRTH. DAY, 
 
 Captain. 
 
 forgot \ —Why, then there was fomething to 
 forget.—Come, let us hear! 
 
 Emma. 
 
 One thing only hurt me much—fhe laid I 
 came a begging. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Stop—flop !—that was not good. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Good ! Captain—I fay it was damn’d bad. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Bad!—you are right—it was bad:—that muft 
 have efcaped her in a hurry. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Befides, fhe gave me a prefent for my father— 
 a book which was once yours—I now value it 
 more than ever. 
 
 * i 
 
 Captain, 
 
 A what ?—a book ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 This, my dear uncle— {(hews it him)* 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Why, Jack, only look.<—Let’s fee—it's the 
 fame—and, egad, the fame bank note for five hun¬ 
 dred pounds doubled down between the leaves. 
 
 £ 3 Emma, 
 
54 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 How unjuft have I been to her !—was this her 
 prefent ? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Ay, what fay you now, John, to Mrs. Moral ? 
 
 Junk, 
 
 Say !—Why, that fhe was guilty of a good atftion 
 without knowing it;—five hundred pounds!— 
 why, an Englifh fhip of fifty guns wou’d as foon 
 ftrike to a French frigate of fifteen. 
 
 r 
 
 Captain. 
 
 No matter •, do you keep it, Emma; if fhe meant 
 it for you Ell double the fum to her, and if fhe did 
 not, fhe deferves to lofe it for her hypocrify. 
 
 • 4 
 
 Junk. 
 
 But come! there fhou’d he no clouds to fpoil a day 
 in which two brothers hoift the flag of friendfhip. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Nay, nay, Junk, belay there.—The girl has 
 never injured me—She is my godchild, and her 
 mother's virtues are refiefted in her face. As to 
 my brother, fie may walk the ftreets, but we muft 
 not meet. 
 
 Junk, 
 
 Dear Captain, in the end of our voyage, where 
 $11 ftreets join, we muft meet, 
 
 ♦ 
 
 Captain, 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY, 
 
 Captain. 
 
 And then let him whole confcience reproaches 
 him caft his eyes to the ground, I fay ! 
 
 \ 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Deareft uncle, you mud be my father’s friend. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 No—no fuch thing! Only fee, Junk, I have 
 hardly given the girl a little corner in my heart, but 
 ihe wants to order about as if the whole belonged 
 to her. 
 
 Junk, 
 
 But only think, Captain, how different this houfe 
 wou’d look—You need not then fmoke your even¬ 
 ing pipe alone—You wou’d talk over your fchool 
 tricks, and the pleafures of your youth, with your 
 brother, who would fit bv your fide, and the great 
 cat wou’d be turned off the fopha. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 I won’t hear anything faid againft my cat—She 
 never brought an adl:ion againft me. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Well, I muft go to my father, he expefls me* 
 but may I come again, my dear uncle ? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Come again-—There’s a tlupid queftion. You 
 may come again—you muft come again ! do you 
 hear ?—{'very tenderly,) 
 
 E 4 
 
 Emma, 
 
 
5 6 THE BIRTH-DAT. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 With pleafure. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Well, now, and when will you return ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 To-morrow—every day. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Well, then, go, and when you return, do you 
 hear, leaye your pride at home—Do you under- 
 ftand ?—there lies fomething on the floor—I fup~ 
 pole you won’t ftoop to take it up. 
 
 i 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Does difinterefted love look fo much like pride i 
 
 Captain, 
 
 Yes, yes—you’ll not take it up, becaufe you 
 know it wou’d give your good uncle pleafure, 
 
 Emma (takes up the pur / e ). 
 
 I thank you, dear uncle. I will lay it out in a 
 prefent for my father—You will permit me to do 
 that, won't you ? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Q, do what you like with your own money. 
 
 Emma,- 
 
 But furely one kind word from you wou’d do 
 him more good than any other prefent. 
 
 Captain. 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 57 
 
 Well, zounds 1 fpeak as many kind words as you 
 like to him— (quick, but good-natured). 
 
 Emma (kijfes him affeftionately). 
 
 Dear uncle! [Exit* 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Well/ Captain, what do you think of your niece? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Why, I think the little witch knows how to cure 
 my gout better than the Do&or. As long as fhe 
 was prefent, my rebellious legs and feet were quiet; 
 but now they begin to plague me again—gnaw, 
 gnaw—pull, pull, pull. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 What a wife flie wou’d make for your fon Harry, 
 Captain; but you wou’dn’t let him have her. 
 
 Captain. 55 
 
 Yes, yes, but I wou’d—But her father will never 
 refign her. What can I do ? 
 
 Junk. 
 
 I think you had better take both of them. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Both of them! Stop, Hop, Jack, that will never 
 fuit me. 
 
 JUNK, 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 J UNK. 
 
 Your lawyer has been to tell you the award is 
 made. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Is it ? Thank heaven a thoufand times!—I don’t 
 care in whole favour the award is; it is all the fame 
 to me. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 The garden is yours for life. 
 
 V V 
 
 t 
 
 Captain. 
 
 I give it to my niece, now, this inftant. Zounds! 
 why did not the fweet wench come fooner ? 
 
 Tunk. 
 
 •v- 
 
 You have been agitated to-day. Suppofeyou 
 enjoy the open air this afternoon. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 That I will mo ft willingly—An old feaman is 
 fond of a breeze. 
 
 J UNK. 
 
 "'Tis a delightful evening. Suppofe, Captain, 
 you pafs it for the fir ft time in your garden. I 
 have already been to fee it. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 My garden ! I fhall feel ftrangely at the fight of 
 that fame garden—Does the old door remain ftill ? 
 When I was a boy, ten years old, I cut a fhip upon 
 it with my pen-knife. 
 
 Junk. 
 
N 
 
 59 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Junk, 
 
 The fhip is vifible yet, I allure you. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Is it indeed ? That’s curious! Since then many 
 of my old friends have died. Yes, yes, we will go 
 there—And, d’ye hear ? bid that baggage Emma 
 attend me there. Send diredtly. 
 
 Junk, 
 
 And her father—— 
 
 Captain. 
 
 No, not a word on that fubjedt, or I’ll keel-haul 
 you, you dog. (Junk is going,) But flay, Jack, 
 you forget my gout. ( Junk returns to ajfift him,) 
 —Thank ye ! thank ye ! So, the old fhip remains 
 where I left it. Well, well; if fhe had weathered 
 as many tight gales as I have, Ys a queftion if the 
 hand of time wou’d have left her legible. 
 
 [Exeunt* 
 
 THE END OF THE SECOND ACT. 
 
THE BIRTH-DAT. 
 
 6.5 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I .—An apartment at the Captain* 
 Two doors in the flat, near it an arm-chair with 
 caftors , in which the Captain is di/covered. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 0 
 
 Now, if my boy was but good enough to be¬ 
 come a match for his coufin Emma, what a har¬ 
 bour of content fhou’d I fail into in my old age. 
 But it won’t do—The man who is difobcdient to 
 the orders of his commander, fhould never be 
 trufted with a command himfelf. Why, where's 
 this Junk? Why, Jack, I fay- 
 
 Enter Junk. 
 
 Order the carriage, that we may go to my garden. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 But, before you go, as you value your old ler- 
 vant John, do grant him one favour. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Well, make hafte—What is it? 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Juft permit me to lock you into that clofet. 
 
 Captain# 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 61 
 
 s 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Lock me up! 
 
 Junk. 
 
 You fhall lock yourfelf up, only permit me to 
 ■wheel you in—Nay, it’s a fatisfa&ion you owe me. 
 You faid, to-day, I was a libellous rafcal. You 
 have now an opportunity of doing yourfelf and me 
 juflice—And though you are my commanding 
 officer, yet, you have alio a commander. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 I ! who r 
 
 Junk. 
 
 . » 
 
 Honor ! who will not permit you, whilft you 
 fight under his flag, to refufe an honeft man a 
 hearing. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Well, but Jack, this is the fir ft time I ever 
 heard that locking a Captain in a cupboard was the 
 way to give anybody a hearing. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 In ffiort. Sir, the lawyer and his agent, that 
 fhe-devil of a houfe-keeper, are coming here to 
 balance accounts. You will have an opportunity 
 of hearing all their curfed contrivances againft your 
 Ton, yourfelf, your brother, and your niece. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 I tell you, I don’c like to take anybody by 
 iurprize,—I like to- .— 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 6s 
 
 Junk. 
 
 l J 
 
 Sir, fhe is coming, and here’s the key.— Now* 
 pray, my dear matter, if you have any regard for 
 everybody belonging to you— (puls the Captain 
 into the clojet , entreating all the time \ the Cap¬ 
 tain making a feeble refiftance : at length he Jhuts 
 him in ).—So, the ttiip’s cleared, and here comes 
 the enemy. 
 
 - t 
 
 Enter Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Ah, Mrs. Moral, I come to make friends 
 with you. Meffmates fhou’dn’t difagree; and 
 if I was on the wrong look out, and happened 
 to be deceived in your bearings, why, I ax pardon, 
 and there’s no harm done, you know. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Bearings indeed ! I’m fure there's no bearing 
 your ungentility. 
 
 Tunk. 
 
 Why, as to ungentility, that’s neither here nor 
 there.—And if fome folks hav’n’t fo much gen¬ 
 tility and morality as others, why, what’s the odds, 
 —we be'nt all born to be boatfwains you know.—* 
 So, let’s fihake hands. 1 like vou for vour care 
 of the Captain, and the Captain has given'you 
 good proof that he likes you too. 
 
 1 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Proofs 1 What, in grumbling and fwearing ? 
 
 Junk. 
 
THE BIRTH.DAY.- 6$, 
 
 / 
 
 Junk. 
 
 No 5 in hard cafh, or fort paper—It’s all one, 
 
 you know. 
 
 «# 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Me ! Pay more regard to truth*—Your immo¬ 
 rality aftonilhes me! 
 
 Junk. 
 
 "What then, mayhap the Captain didn’t give you 
 five hundred pounds this very day ! 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Five hundred pounds! The Captain give me 
 five hundred pounds ! 
 
 Junk, 
 
 I fay the Captain gave five hundred pounds,, 
 which you now have about you without knowing it. • 
 He gave you a book, that book contained a folded 
 leaf, which leaf contained-— 
 
 What 1 
 
 Mrs. Moral, 
 
 Junk, 
 
 Five hundred pounds. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Impoffible ! It can’t be—'I’ll alk the Captain 1 
 myfelf. 
 
 June.- 
 
 You needn’t go to the Captain—Afk the book. 
 
 Mrs*. 
 
H 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY, 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Tormenter, I have given it away ( enraged ). 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Given it away l 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 To think that whining girl fliou’d— 
 
 Junk. 
 
 What, Mifs Emma? O! you good creature! 
 if you have given it to her, I will have a kifs. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 £tand off, wretch !—To be fo cheated! 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Patience! 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Patience! 1 have given it away. Had I known 
 the value of it, Pd fooner have—Oh, I {hall never 
 have patience again as long as I live (enraged). 
 
 Enter Circuit. 
 
 4 s / » 
 
 Mr. Junk, this apartment is one of mine. I 
 have fome bufinefs with my worthy friend Mr« 
 Circuit, and I beg you’ll quit it direftly. 
 
 i 
 
 6 
 
 JuRK, 
 
I 
 
 THE BIRTH- DAY. C; 
 
 T UNK, 
 
 What ; you wou’dn’t like a third perfori; mayhap? 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Immoral wretch ! There is one out of fight who 
 hears all, and will teflify the purity of our in¬ 
 tentions. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 You are right—There is one out of fi^ht who 
 hears all: if you (leer by your proper bearings, he 
 will reward you ; but if you come here to plot 
 againft my poor matter, or his fon, or his niece, 
 he’ll be fure to find out all your tricks, and bring 
 you to the gangway at lad—So, keep a good look¬ 
 out, and thank Jack Junk for h:s advice, that’s all. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Impudent fea-bear ! But I’ll fee that he is out 
 of fight, and out of hearing too (looks after him)* 
 —Ah! there he goes, grumbling and grunting 
 like a beatt as he is. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 But, my dear Mrs. Moral, fuppofe there fiiou’d 
 be any one to over-hear. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 There is no entrance to the room but this, which 
 we’ll lock, and keep away from as far as pottlble* 
 Sit down, my dear Mr. Circuit ; and while we 
 compare notes, oblige me by participating in a 
 glafs of delightful cordial from the Captain’s beft: 
 liquor-cheft.— (Unlacks a Jmall clojet, and produces 
 wines and ref re foments.') 
 
 f Circuit. 
 
66 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 You alfo have your ftrong box there, Mrs. 
 Moral. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 All for you, Mr. Circuit: pray ufe no ceremony. 
 How difcouraging to find our plans fucceed fo ill# 
 The law-fuit is certainly over. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 The paltry garden I wou’dn’t mind; but the 
 whole family will be reconciled, and the Captain 
 perfuaded to alter his will. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 What’s to be done, my dear Sir ? 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Everything to prevent vifits from the other 
 party—As for that Mifs Emma- 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 But fhe has feen the Captain $ nav, perhaps, is 
 with him now. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Who! Mifs Bertram 1 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 She; that hufiey who has robbed me of all pa- 
 tience. She wifhed (mimicking) to congratulate 
 her dear uncle on his Birth-day. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 And you left them together ? 
 
 Mrs. 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 6? 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Was it not to meet my dear Mr. Circuit ? 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 However flattering that may be tome, ’tis a great 
 pity, a great pity. I know the girl—fhe has a 
 tongue—fuch a tongue ! 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 And do you think (lie has a tongue to overturn 
 the labour of fixteen years. Why, Sir, in addition 
 to the anger I have created in the Captain againft 
 his fon, by intercepting letters, and giving ic the 
 appearance of Harry's negledt, I can now even 
 prove this Emma to be the caufe of it; for he 
 vifits her—that I have proof of, and that is more 
 than fufficient to ruin all my oppofers. 
 
 Circuit* 
 
 Indeed 1 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Befides, hav'n't I been for years a Have to him ? 
 Hav’n't I watched his gout with patience, in hopes* 
 every day, it wou'd pay me for my trouble, by 
 fending him to a better world—‘haven't I- 
 
 (Captain gives an impatient exclamation in the 
 
 Clojet J. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Eh ! what's that ? 
 
 Mrs. Moral, 
 
 That 1—nothing. Have we not locked the door ? 
 
 And look. Sir, in cafe of the worft, here is my 
 
 f 2 darling 
 
68 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 darling, my favourite, my chefl, the contents of 
 which will always provide againft calamity. x hat 
 bag is full of Giver, and this of gold (puts two 
 upon the table).— AVt they charming creatures ? 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Charming indeed! One is quite overpowered 
 with fympathetic affedion. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 * ^ 
 
 All this is deflined for our intended marriage. 
 You mull infert in the will a fmall provifion for the 
 fon and niece, to give ns an appearance of difin- 
 tereflednefs. To-morrow I’ll get Junk out of the 
 way, and with tears, infinuations, and entreaties, 
 perfuade the Captain to fend for you; and if all 
 J'ucceeds, he may bid us good night as foon as he 
 pleafes. 
 
 Captain ( vociferates in the Cloflet). 
 
 Thunder and lightning l 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 O, undone ! ruined ! it was the Captain's voice# 
 (Junk knocking at the chamber door.) 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 He's at the door!—He muftn’t find me here.— 
 
 (Runs to it , the doors fly open, and difcover the 
 
 Captain.) 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 O, I faint! my dear friend, fupport rne (pre¬ 
 tends to faint.) 
 
 Circuit. 
 
Circuit. 
 
 I cannot fupport a wife without a legacy. I had 
 better remove this action out of court. — (Takes a 
 bag from the table , unlocks the door , and is immedi¬ 
 ately Jeized by Jack, who enters.) 
 
 Captain. 
 
 At length I have breath. Here's a crew of 
 pirates for you. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Gentlemen, I take my leave. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Yes ; but you don’t take this—( taking the bag 
 from him). 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 What do you mean, friend ? I am an honeft 
 man, that all the world knows. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 You’re a rafcal. Sir, that’s what I know. Get. 
 out of my houfe, and thank my gouty foot that I do 
 pot avenge the deceived world on a fcoundrek 
 
 Junk (clenching his fid). 
 
 Captain, fpall 1- 
 
 Captain. 
 
 No; let him fheer off—and if ever his confer¬ 
 ence calls him to a court martial, we needn’t 
 doubt his punifhment. 
 
 Circuit. 
 
 Confcience! Sir, I’m a lawyer, and deny the 
 authority of that court. Befides, I cou’d relate 
 the whole of this affair to your difadvantage \ for, 
 
 f 3 as 
 
7° 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 as I am known to be an honed man, my word 
 vvou’d fird be taken. But I will a£t liberally, and 
 not mention a fyllable. [Exit . 
 
 Captain. 
 
 So, fo, he's right.—Impudence is the bed wea¬ 
 pon in the hands of a rogue againd an honed man. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 And what mud we do with the old pufs, here? 
 
 Captain. 
 
 When I am gone, let her go a-drift. Don't 
 Ju&er her to heave in fight again. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 That's a commidion 1 have long'd for thefe 
 iixteen years. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Help me into my coach, and her out of my 
 houfe, then make your report to us in the garden. 
 —(Jack helps him to the door , he flops and looks 
 hack at Mrs. Moral.) —'Tis drange 1 But wou'd 
 you think it ? I'm lorry to difcharge that woman. 
 Habit reconciles us to everything, and 1 do think 
 that to get fond of the devil himfelf, one need only 
 for a length of time be in the fame mefs with him. 
 
 [John leads him off. 
 
 Mrs. Moral ( immediately looks up ). 
 
 So, fo ! fo, fo !—All that my honed indudry has 
 acquired will be at the mercy of that brute.—Here 
 he is agai w-~(pretends to faint again). 
 
 Re-enter Junk. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 What, not recovered!—Oh, we’ll foon roufe 
 her! This money I fiiall takeaway. 
 
 Mrs. 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY. 71 
 
 Mrs. Moral (ftarting up). 
 
 Where am I ? 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Where you have already been too long. So, 
 pack up your ill-got property, and clear the decks 
 as fait as poflible. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 You are an ungenteel brute, and I fhall not be 
 commanded by you. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 But the Captain commands.—So fecure your 
 ill-gotten property, and call to-morrow.—I mult 
 go to my mailer. 
 
 Mrs. Moral ([locks the box'). 
 
 Nay, but till to-morrow - * 
 
 Junk. 
 
 I fay, weigh anchor, and get out of the harbour. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Then, I fay, I won’t ftir —(fits in the arm¬ 
 chair). 
 
 No! 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Mrs. Moral. 
 
 Not a itep. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Then I mud take the helm myfelf {begins to 
 wheel her off). —So, my dear Mrs. Moral, a 
 pleafant voyage i—and if anybody afks who fteer’d 
 
 f 4 you 
 
72 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 you out of port, tell them it was your old friend 
 Jack Junk :—who hauled down your falie colours, 
 and fent you a cruifing on your own bottom. 
 
 Mrs. Moral ([peaking at the fame time). 
 
 My dear Jack, V\\ fhare my profits with you— 
 
 I entreat of you-—Eli do anything—Til tear your 
 eyes out. [ Exeunt . 
 
 SCENE III.— Agarden ; an Arhour on each fide. 
 
 On one fide a Door with a Ship cut on it. 
 
 Enter Mr. Bertram and Ann. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Every ftep in this garden recalls the happy days 
 of my youth to my remembrance.—For years 1 
 have hated the very thoughts of this place—and 
 why ? becaufe fraternal enmity hung over it like a 
 cloud. At length, in the evening of my life the 
 Iky clears, I breathe more freely, I feel my Jove 
 for my brother return. 
 
 Ann. 
 
 I hear, Sir, he received Mifs Bertram very 
 kindly. I begin to love him again myfelf, and 
 11 ill hope to find the good-natured Lewis that I 
 remember him when a boy. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 O, he is naturally good. — Bad men eafily do 
 mifehiefs which the hand of love with difficulty 
 cures. Look at this tree. Do you fee the letters 
 of P and I on the bark ? Thirty years ago I cut 
 $;hem there, and the tree is yet green and beautiful. 
 
 Ann. 
 
THE BIRTH.DAY. 
 
 73 
 
 Ann. 
 
 How often have I fat in this garden, Sir, while 
 you and your brother Lewis played together ! 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Let us fit down in this arbour, where oft Pve 
 conn’d my youthful lelfons ( they go into the ar¬ 
 bour ). Who fhall fay age has no pleafures when it 
 can call up the ideas of pad happinefs ? Youth en¬ 
 joys prelent delight much lels than age does the 
 memory of thofe long palled. 
 
 (Enter Captain Bertram, led by afew ant.') 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Stop here (he looks round with much emotion — 
 after a paife). Go ! leave me here (the fervant 
 hefitates)\ Go, my good fellow; but Hay at the 
 gate till Junk comes; I can help myfelf till then. 
 [ Exit fewanif I wou’d not let the man fee my 
 fears,—Such people are apt to laugh when they 
 fee an old feaman weep; and yet we have hearts 
 like other folks ( leans on his crutch and looks round 
 the garden). 
 
 Bertram (/a Ann). 
 
 My fpirits revive, and I feel my health renewed. 
 
 * Captain. 
 
 Ah ! There’s the old chefnut-tree Handing yet, 
 and full of bloom. How often have I climbed up 
 it, with my brother. O! curie this gout! I fhou’d 
 like to fit on the top bough of that tree:—and 
 there too—ah! there it is—the old door and the 
 fhip on it—Why 1 didn’t think I could have drawn 
 
 it’s not quite right as to the 
 
 figging, 
 
 fo well-rfor though 
 
74 
 
 THE BIRTH-DA Y. 
 
 rigging, yet there’s the Britifh enfign at the top¬ 
 gallant maft head.—Well, there’s no wonder at 
 that having remained ; for where is the enemy that 
 has ever been able to pull it down ? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Don’t you hear fomebody fpeak ? 
 
 Ann ( looking out of the arbour'). 
 
 There is an old gentleman walking in the gar^ 
 den. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 I fuppofe one of the guefts whom our friend 
 has invited. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Was not this my mother’s flower-bed?—How 
 wild and full of weeds the place looks now !— 
 What do I fee?-—a toad creeping—that reptile would 
 never have been here but for the law-fuit :—what 
 a damn’d thing it is for two brothers to quarrel !— 
 I’ll hobble into this arbour.—Eh ! who can that 
 fick gentleman be ?—he look’s ill indeed. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Why, i\nn! I have furely feen that face fome- 
 where. 
 
 Enter Emma— ( runs to her father ). 
 
 For heaven’s fake, my dear Emma, tell me who 
 that is ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 A gentleman, Sir, who is cf our party, becaufe 
 it is his birth-day. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 His birth-day (ajtonifhed) ! 
 
 *4 
 
 Captain, 
 
THE BIRTH-DAY- 75 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Emma, come hither, child !— Do you know 
 that gentleman there ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Oh yes. Sir, very well. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Who is he ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Fifteen years ago, my dear uncle, you wou’d 
 not have alked me i’uch a quetlion. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Zounds, I fufpeft !—Who is it ?—Tell me. 
 
 Emma (runs to the other arbour and embraces 
 
 Bertram). 
 
 He is my father. 
 
 (dpaufe—the Brothers look at each other.) 
 Captain ( afide). 
 
 How ill he looks!—Ah, he has had his forrows. 
 Zounds ! he is coming this way. 
 
 Emma ('/landing in the middle of the ft age and looking 
 
 alternately at both). 
 
 Dear uncle, come nearer. 
 
 * 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Well, there, then ( hobbles on one pace). 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Nearer, my father! 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 My daughter ! 
 
 j 
 
 Emma. 
 
THE B1RTH-D A V. 
 
 J* 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Your hands—your hands:—nearer, nearer— 
 (She draws both together . ’The Captain throws 
 away his crutch , and the Brothers embrace'). 
 
 Captain (taking his head with both his hands , in 
 
 the great eft emotion). 
 
 Look at me, brother !—Eye to eye—Let me 
 fee whether there yet ex ills on your brow one fpark 
 of difcord. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 This tear, Lewis, obliterates the remembrance 
 of all that has palled. 
 
 Captain (pointing to Ann). 
 
 Who is that old woman fn: veiling yonder ? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Poor creature!—fhe weeps for joy. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Zounds!—I really believe I know her too,— 
 What, old Ann ! 
 
 ► 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Yes, indeed;—our old nurfe Ann. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Give me vour hand, Ann:—how goes it, my 
 
 J • 
 
 old lafs ?, 
 
 Ann. 
 
 I cannot fpeak, Sir. 
 
 Captain, 
 
 Then hold your tongue by all means,—Every 
 one can fee the tears fpring from your heart.—-But, 
 the devil ! what is become of my gout f—1 believe 
 ] threw that away with my crutch. 
 
 Bertram, 
 
I 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. *? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 I have pronnifed my Emma in marriage to the 
 worthy man to whofe exertions I owe this happy 
 moment. 
 
 CAPTAIN. 
 
 Did you not know that I have a Ton, that I ex¬ 
 pert here, and with regard to whom I have been 
 villanoufly impofed on ?—l defigned to unite us 
 all more clofely by matching him with Emma. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 How unfortunate ! But, brother, my word is 
 pledged ; I have given my promife to an honed 
 man, and fhould forfeit all claim to that title my- 
 feif were I now to recall it. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Plague on it! I have been as hady in my refent- 
 ment towards my fon, as towards you. Here was 
 a method which at once prefented itfelf to make 
 him amends, and you aifo; but 1 no fooner behold 
 the profpedt than it vanifhes. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 I (hare in your regret mod fincerely, my dear 
 brother:—but the youth of whom I (peak has 
 been a friend beyond example—He adifted me 
 with money, profeflional aid, and advice.—I cou'd 
 fee that his regard for Emma was partly the occa- 
 lion ; but virtuous love is a fource from which the 
 mod brilliant of our adtions need not bludi to owe 
 their origin. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 He aflided you with money in your diftrefs, 
 
 w h i 1 e I — (a git at ed) —— 
 
 Bertram, 
 
7 8 
 
 THE BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Nay, my dear Lewis, notwit’nftanding our dif- 
 union, you affifted me kindly. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 What! what, wou’d you mock me? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 Have not you paid my debts ? 
 
 v Captain. 
 
 Heaven knows, not I. What debts ? 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 The rent—the apothecary—The very friend 
 of whom we fpeak allured me it was you. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 Alas ! he has, then, himfelf done what was my 
 duty. His a fevere ftroke, but I deferve it and 
 lubmit. The man who knew lb well how to fup~ 
 ply the place of a brother, ought to become a fora 
 to you. 
 
 Enter Harry. 
 
 My dear Harry, you have been wronged. I 
 hoped to have made you amends by the hand and 
 heart of a good girl, but I’m born to be disap¬ 
 pointed. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Ah, Sir, I have already made my election, 
 wou’d you but approve it. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 I won’t approve anything. You’re all leagued 
 again ft me. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 This lady, Sir, muft plead my excufe. She is 
 mv choice. 
 
 4 
 
 Captain. 
 
79 
 
 THE BIRTH -DAY. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 So much the worfe. Your uncle fays you can’t 
 have her. 
 
 Harry. 
 
 Sir, he has promifed her to me as his friend, and 
 the arbitrator of your lawfuit. I however have 
 power to releafe him from all promiles, in favour 
 of the Captain’s fen. 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 This your fon! This was our arbitrator too. 
 
 Captain. 
 
 He ! What, Harry ? 
 
 Harry. 
 
 I am, notwithftanding, your nephew.—And I 
 will clear all by your fire-fide. Permit me, then, 
 in either chara&er, to join my Emma in afking 
 both your bleflings. {they kneel.) 
 
 Captain. 
 
 My children 1. (they form apffure.) 
 
 Enter Junk. 
 
 Junk. 
 
 Joy 1 joy ! I fee how it all is. Don’t take it 
 amifs, old lady; but I’m fo happy, that if I don’t 
 embrace femebody I iEall break my heart ( em¬ 
 braces Ann). 
 
 Captain. 
 
 We’ll have no hearts broke on fuch a day as this. 
 —Sacred to the reconciliation of a divided family, it 
 fhali henceforth be a double anniverfary; and who 
 will refufe to hail the period which terminates a 
 (late of warfare by the fmiles of returning peace ? 
 
 THE END OF THE COMEDY, 
 
/V • • 
 
 EPILOGUE, 
 
 Written by T. Dibdin. 
 
 SPOKEN By MRS. 2’OPE. 
 
 And To, to fet two brothers by the ears. 
 
 And fpin a law-fuit out for fifteen years. 
 
 No other reafon by the Bard is found. 
 
 Than one poor Ample plot of garden-ground. 
 
 Had a parterre, fo glowing and fo gay 
 As that I fee before me, caus’d our play. 
 
 The conteft had been noble;—here we find. 
 
 As in a garden. Nature’s hand entwin’d 
 With art and elegance; the blufhing rofe 
 With lilies mixt, fee beauty’s cheeks difclofe 
 Carnations, pinks, gay tulips meet our eyes. 
 
 And belies furrounded oft by butterflies. 
 
 Some fruit we boafl—by plumbs we mean rich cits 5 
 Critics are crabs, and pine-apples are wits. 
 
 Here, too, the laurel bloom?, and many a bard 
 Receives from your kind hand its fweet reward. 
 There is a plant, which, when the lark up fprings. 
 To meet the ruftet-mantled morn, and wings 
 Its flight towards the Eaft, from lowly bed 
 Of parent earth, jufl rears its dewy head ; 
 
 And if approach’d by rude, ungentle hand. 
 
 Shrinks in itfelf, and ceafes to expand : 
 
 But fhou’d the fun its influence warm difFufe, 
 
 It opens lovely in a thoufand hues; 
 
 And thus the Mufe in chill fufpenfe retires, 
 
 Till ycur applaufe awaken all her fires. 
 
 
 VriKted by A, Sir clan, Prir.tcrt~>Stntt y Lor. don* 
 
RARE BOOK 
 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 LIBRARY 
 
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