Mrs. Mar. You need not discover the intrigue, 'tis apparent already. Unworthy Mr. Dapperwit, after my confidence reposed in you, could you be so little generous as to betray me to my father's man? but I'll be even with you.
Sir Sim. Do not accuse him, poor man! before you hear him.—Tell her the intrigue, man.
Dap. A pox! she will not believe us.
Sir Sim. Will you not excuse yourself? but I must not let it rest so.—Know, then, Mrs. Martha—
Mrs. Mar. Come, I forgive thee before thy confession, Jonas; you never had had the confidence to have designed this cheat upon me but from Mr. Dapperwit's encouragement—'twas his plot.
Sir Sim. Nay, do not do me that wrong, madam.
Mrs. Mar. But since he has trepanned me out of my father's house, he is like to keep me as long as I live; and so good night, Jonas.
Sir Sim. Hold, hold, what d'ye mean both? prithee tell her I am Sir Simon, and no Jonas.
Dap. A pox! she will not believe us, I tell you.