In the early afternoon, not long after their marriage, man and wife are recovering from an evening's pleasures. She is having tea after an all-night card and music party; he sprawls exhausted from a night of dissipation as his dog sniffs another woman's handkerchief drooping from his pocket. Walking away in horror is the newlywed's steward, who clutches a fistful of bills and only one receipt. Hogarth takes an opportunity here to poke fun at the couple's sterile taste in art, typical of their time. He notes their awe of Continental painting and antique statuary, emphasising the cracked nose of the bust on the mantle.
