SCENE IV. The same. A street
[Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.]
LORENZO.
Nay, we will slink away in supper-time,
Disguise us at my lodging, and return
All in an hour.
GRATIANO.
We have not made good preparation.
SALARINO.
We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers.
SALANIO.
'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd,
And better in my mind not undertook.
LORENZO.
'Tis now but four o'clock; we have two hours
To furnish us.
[Enter LAUNCELOT, With a letter.]
Friend Launcelot, what's the news?
LAUNCELOT.
An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem
to signify.
LORENZO.
I know the hand; in faith, 'tis a fair hand,
And whiter than the paper it writ on
Is the fair hand that writ.
GRATIANO.
Love news, in faith.
LAUNCELOT.
By your leave, sir.
LORENZO.
Whither goest thou?
