Staines. I would the news were true: see how my little Bubble is blown up with't!
Bub. Do you hear, my friend; for what do you knock there?
2D Mes. Marry, sir, I would speak with the worshipful Master Bubble.
Bub. The worshipful! and what would you do with the worshipful Master Bubble? I am the man.
2D Mes. I cry your worship mercy then: Master Thong, the belt-maker, sent me to your worship, to give you notice that your uncle is dead, and that you are his only heir.
[Exit.
Bub. Thy news is good, and I have look'd for't long;
Thanks unto thee, my friend, and goodman Thong.
Enter Master Blank.
Staines. Certainly this news is true; for see another: by this light, his scrivener! Now, Master Blank, whither away so fast?
Blank. Master Staines, God save you. Where is your man?
Staines. Why, look you, sir; do you not see him?