Up street and down street, and over the market place, like a Shrove Tuesday ox. But take my word for it—I shall pay him out before I go.
Anthony.
I can’t blame you, but I forbid you to do it.
Karl.
Ho!
Anthony.
I won’t let you out of my sight. If you tried to lay hands on him, I’d help the fellow myself.
Karl.
I thought you, too, were fond of mother.
Anthony.