End in the stocks at last.
Phor. Ah, ’tis not so.
I’m an old stager too, and know my road.
How many men d’ye think I’ve bastinadoed
Almost to death? Aliens and citizens?
The oft’ner, still the safer.—Tell me then,
Didst ever hear of actions for assault
And batt’ry brought against me?
Geta. How comes that?
Phor. Because the net’s not stretch’d to catch the hawk,