But let the lines of the play, or a portion thereof, unfold the situation.
The scene is at Lord Brumpton's house; the nobleman has just been pronounced defunct, and Sable, the undertaker, has arrived.

The latter, who is being bantered by two of the characters, Mr.Campley and Cabinet, is evidently a bit of a philosopher, albeit an uncanny one, for he says: * * * * * "There are very few in the whole world that live to themselves, but sacrifice their bosom-bliss to enjoy a vain show and appearance of prosperity in the eyes of others; and there is often nothing more inwardly distressed than a young bride in her glittering retinue, or deeply joyful than a young widow in her weeds and black train; of both which the lady of this house may be an instance, for she has been the one, and is, I'll be sworn, the other.
"CABINET.

You talk, Mr.Sable, most learnedly.
"SABLE.

I have the deepest learning, sir, experience; remember your widow cousin, that married last month.
"CABINET.

Ay, but how you'd you imagine she was in all that grief an hypocrite! Could all those shrieks, those swoonings, that rising falling bosom, be constrained?
You're uncharitable, Sable, to believe it.