Welcome, Don Balthazar: welcome, nephew;
And thou, Horatio, thou art welcome too.
Young prince, although thy father's hard misdeeds,
In keeping back the tribute that he owes,
Deserve but evil measure at our hands,
Yet shalt thou know that Spain is honourable.
Balthazar.
The trespass, that my father made in peace,
Is now controll'd by fortune of the wars;
And cards once dealt, it boots not ask why so:
His men are slain, a weak'ning to his[42] realm;
His colours seiz'd, a blot unto his name;
His son distress'd, a cor'sive to his heart:
These punishments may clear his late offence.
King.
Ay, Balthazar, if he observe[43] this truce,
Our peace will grow the stronger for these wars:
Meanwhile live thou, though[44] not in liberty,
Yet free[45] from bearing any servile yoke;
For in our hearing thy deserts were great,
And in our sight thyself art gracious.
Balthazar.
And I shall study to deserve this grace.
King.
But tell me (for their holding makes me doubt)
To which of these twain art thou prisoner?