The same. Brichanteau
BRICHANTEAU.
Ah! two words!
[Laughing.] He's looking pretty well for a dead man!
SAVERNY (low, indicating The Marquis, who passes).
Why do you make me grieve him, Brichanteau?
I think we might explain it to him now.
Oh, let me try.
BRICHANTEAU.
No; God forbid, my friend!
His grief must be sincere; he must weep much.
His woe is one good half of your disguise.
SAVERNY.
Poor uncle!
BRICHANTEAU.