Yet herein joy is mingled with sad breath:
I keep her favour longer than my breath.
[He dies. Sound alarum. Andrea slain, and Prince Balthezar vaunting on him.
Enter Jeronimo, Horatio, and Lord General.
Hor. My other soul, my bosom, my heart’s friend,
O my Andrea, slain! I[’ll] have the price of him
In princely blood.
Prince Balthezar, my sword shall strike true strains,
And fetch Andrea’s ransom forth thy veins.—
Lord General, drive them hence, while I make war.