Beard. Her vow is pass'd, nor will she break her word;
Look to it, micher.
Fran. I hope he will compound.
W. Small. Foot, shall I give two thousand pounds a year
For nothing?
T. Small. Brother, come: be rul'd by me.
Better to take a little than lose all.
Bout. You see she's resolute; y'had best compound.
W. Small. I'll first be damn'd, ere I will lose my right,
Unless he give me up my forfeit mortgage,
And bail me of this action.
Fran. Sir, you may choose:
What is the mortgage worth?
W. Small. Let's have no whispering.
Throat. Some forty pounds a year.
Fran. Do it, do it.
Come, you shall do it, we will be rid of him
At any rate.