[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 torchbearers. 
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?
LAUNCELOT: Marry, sir, to bid my old master the
Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian. 
LORENZO: Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica
I will not fail her; speak it privately.
Will you prepare you for this masque tonight?
I am provided of a torch-bearer. 
SALANIO: Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
SALANIO: And so will I.