selected from _Jeronimo_ and _Soliman and Perseda_--will help the reader to form at least an idea of Kyd's originality and ability: (1) [ISABELLA _rejects all medicine for her grief._] _Isabella._ So that you say this herb will purge the eye, And this the head. Ah, but none of them will purge the heart! No, there's no medicine left for my disease, Nor any physic to recure the dead. [_She runs lunatic._ Horatio! O, where's Horatio? _Maid._ Good madam, affright not thus yourself With outrage for your son Horatio; He sleeps in quiet in the Elysian fields. _Isabella._ Why, did I not give you gowns and goodly things? Bought you a whistle and a whipstalk[65] too, To be revenged on their villanies? _Maid._ Madam, these humours do torment my soul. _Isabella._ My soul, poor soul; thou talk'st of things-- Thou know'st not what: my soul hath silver wings, That mount me up unto the highest heavens: To heaven! ay, there sits my Horatio, Back'd with a troop of fiery cherubims, Dancing about his newly-healed wounds, Singing sweet hymns, and chanting heavenly notes, Rare harmony to greet his innocence, That died, ay, died a mirror in our days. But say, where shall I find the men, the murderers, That slew Horatio? Whither shall I run To find them out that murdered my son? [_Exeunt._ (2) [HIERONIMO, _recovering his mental balance, perceives that_ BAZULTO _is not his son._] Ay, now I know thee, now thou nam'st thy son: Thou art the lively image of my grief; Within thy face my sorrows I may see: Thy eyes are gumm'd with tears, thy cheeks are wan, Thy forehead troubled, and thy muttering lips Murmur sad words abruptly broken off; By force of windy sighs thy spirit breathes; And all this sorrow riseth for thy son. And selfsame sorrow feel I for my son. Come in, old man, thou shalt to Isabel; Lean on my arm; I thee, thou me, shalt stay; And thou and I, and she, will sing a song, Three parts in one, but all of discords fram'd.-- Talk not of chords, but let us now be gone, For with a cord Horatio was slain.