42
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. Go, gentlemen,
[ Exit LAUNCELOT ]
Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? I am provided of a torch-bearer.
SALARINO. Ay, marry, I ' ll be gone about it straight.
SALANIO. And so will I.
LORENZO. Meet me and Gratiano