Bub. Why, but whither do you mean to go, master?
Staines. Why, to sea.
Bub. To sea! Lord bless us, methinks I hear of a tempest already. But what will you do at sea?
Staines. Why, as other gallants do that are spent, turn pirate.
Bub. O master, have the grace of Wapping before your eyes, remember a high tide;[156] give not your friends cause to wet their handkerchiefs. Nay, master, I'll tell you a better course than so; you and I will go and rob my uncle; if we 'scape, we'll domineer together; if we be taken, we'll be hanged together at Tyburn; that's the warmer gallows of the two.
Enter Messenger.
Mes. By your leave, sir, whereabouts dwells one Master Bubble?
Bub. Do you hear, my friend? do you know Master Bubble, if you do see him?
Mes. No, in truth, do I not.
Bub. What is your business with Master Bubble?