Hor. And thou, Don Pedro, mine.
Don Ped. I care not whose; or thine, or thine, or all at once.
Bal. I bind thee, Don Andrea, by thy honour,
Thy valiancy, and all that thou hold’st great,
To meet me single in the battle’s heat;
Where I’ll set down, in characters on thy flesh,
Four precious lines, spoke by our father’s mouth,
When first thou cam’st embassador; these they are:
’Tis said we shall not answer, at next birth,
Our fathers’ faults in heaven, why then on earth?