_Soliman and Perseda_ invites little further attention than that which one scene and one character alone demand. Its sharp descent from the tremendous force of _The Spanish Tragedy_ is, however, slightly redeemed by the poetic warmth of its love passages. Love is the motive of the plot. Apart from that it sins unforgivably against probability, good taste, reason, and justice. Its reckless distribution of death is such that every one of the fourteen named characters come to a violent end, besides numerous nameless wretches referred to generically as witnesses or executioners. Nor is any attempt made to show just cause for their destruction. We could almost deny that the author of the previous tragedy had any hand in this play, did we not know, on the authority of his own signature, that the same author thought it worth his labour to translate _Cornelie_ for the English stage. The fact was that dramatists had not yet the courage always to place their own artistic inclinations above the need of gratifying an unformed public taste, so that the same man may be found composing plays of widely differing natures for, presumably, different audiences. The single character deserving mention is the boastful knight, Basilisco, whose incredible vaunts and invariable preference for the very freest of blank verse, in a play almost entirely exempt from either, read like an intentional burlesque of _Tamburlaine_. If so, and the suggestion is not ill-founded or improbable, it may be interpreted as an emphatic rejection of the influence of Marlowe and as a claim, on Kyd's part, to sole credit for his own form of tragedy and blank verse. The only scene of conspicuous merit is that in which the Turkish Emperor, Soliman, attempts to kill his fair captive, Perseda, for rejecting his love, but is overcome by her beauty. It is quite short, but is handled with power and embellished with touches of delicate poetry. The best of it may be quoted here, together with a specimen of the Basilisco burlesque. (1) [SOLIMAN'S BASHAW _brings to him the two fairest captives from Rhodes._] _Soliman._ This present pleaseth more than all the rest; And, were their garments turn'd from black to white, I should have deem'd them Juno's goodly swans, Or Venus' milkwhite doves, so mild they are, And so adorn'd with beauty's miracle. Here, Brusor, this kind turtle shall be thine; Take her, and use her at thy pleasure. But this kind turtle is for Soliman, That her captivity may turn to bliss. Fair looks, resembling Phoebus' radiant beams; Smooth forehead, like the table of high Jove; Small pencill'd eyebrows, like two glorious rainbows; Quick lamplike eyes, like heav'n's two brightest orbs; Lips of pure coral, breathing ambrosy; Cheeks, where the rose and lily are in combat; Neck whiter than the snowy Apennines: A sweeter creature nature never made; Love never tainted Soliman till now.