Re-enter Sir Simon, holding up his hands.
What's the matter, Sir Simon?
Sir Sim. Lord! who would have thought it?
Mrs. Joyn. What ails you, Sir Simon?
Sir Sim. I have made such a discovery, Mrs. Joyner!
Mrs. Joyn. What is't?
Sir Sim. Such a one that makes me at once glad and sorry; I am sorry my Lady Flippant is naught, but I'm glad I know it:—thanks still to my disguise.
Mrs. Joyn. Fy! fy!
Sir Sim. Nay, this hand can tell—
Mrs. Joyn. But how?