Porters going to carry off the Basket on a long Pole between ’em.
Enter Lady Knowell.
L. Kno. What’s this? whither goes this Basket?
Sir Cred. Ah Lord! they are come with the Warrant. Peeps out of the Basket.
Lod. Only Books, Madam, offer’d me to buy, but they do not please me.
L. Kno. Books! nay then set down the Basket, Fellows, and let me peruse ’em; who [are] their Authors, and what their Language?
Sir Cred. A pox of all Learning, I say,—’tis my Mother-in-law. Porters going to set down the Basket.
Lod. Hold, hold, Madam, they are only English and some Law-French.
L. Kno. Oh, faugh, how I hate that vile sort of Reading! up with ’em again, Fellows, and away. The Porters take up and go out.
Lod. God-a-mercy, Law-French. Aside.