Thomas Kyd

Biographical details

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Thomas Kyd (1558–1594), an English dramatist of the Elizabethan era, is celebrated for The Spanish Tragedy, a groundbreaking work that redefined tragic structure and character depth. His plays, characterized by complex plots and moral quandaries, reflect the turbulent spirit of Renaissance drama.

Though overshadowed in his time, Kyd’s influence persisted through European adaptations and discussions regarding his possible authorship of the Ur-Hamlet, a precursor to Shakespeare’s tragedy. His legacy endures as a pivotal figure in shaping early modern theatre’s narrative and thematic richness.

Quotes by Thomas Kyd

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ He could not sit in Bel-imperia's thoughts.
But how can love find harbour in my breast,
Till I revenge the death of my belov'd?
Yes, second love shall further my revenge:
I'll love Horatio, my Andrea's friend,
The more to spite the prince that wrought his end;
And, where Don Balthazar, that slew my love,
Himself now pleads for favor at my hands,
He shall, in rigour of my just disdain,
Reap long repentance for his murderous deed,—
For what was't else but murderous cowardice,
So many to oppress one valiant knight,
Without respect of honour in the fight? ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Enter LORENZO, BALTHAZAR, SERBERINE,
PEDRINGANO, disguised.
LOR. My lord, away with her! take her aside!
O sir, forbear, your valour is already tried.
Quickly dispatch, my masters.
They hang him in the arbor.
HOR. What, will you murder me?
LOR. Aye; thus! and thus! these are the fruits of love!
They stab him.
BEL. O, save his life, and let me die for him!
O, save him, brother! save him, Balthazar!
I lov'd Horatio, but he lov'd not me.
BAL. But Balthazar loves Bel-imperia.
LOR. Although his life were still ambitious, proud,
Yet is he at the highest now he is dead.
BEL. Murder! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ HIERO. Now, sir, perhaps I come to see the king,
The king sees me, and fain would hear my suit:
Why, is this not a strange and seld-seen thing
That standers-by with toys should strike me mute?
Go to, I see their shifts, and say no more;
Hieronimo, 'tis time for thee to trudge!
Down by the dale that flows with purple gore
Standeth a fiery tower; there sits a judge
Upon a seat of steel and molten brass,
And 'twixt his teeth he holds a fire-brand,
That leads unto the lake where he doth stand.
Away, Hieronimo; to him be gone:
He'll do thee justice for Horatio's death. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ BEL. Hath not my father then enquir'd for me?
LOR. Sister, he hath; and this excus'd I thee.
He whispereth in her ear.
But, Bel-imperia, see the gentle prince;
Look on thy love; behold young Balthazar,
Whose passions by thy presence are increas'd,
And in whose melancholy thou may'st see
Thy hate, his love, thy flight, his following thee.
BEL. Brother, you are become an orator—
I know not, ay, by what experience—
Too politic for me, past all compare,
Since I last saw you. But content yourself;
The prince is meditating higher things. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Sith heav'n hath ordain'd thee to be mine,
Disperse those clouds and melancholy looks,
And clear them up with those thy sun-bright eyes,
Wherein my hope and heav'n's fair beauty lies!
BEL. My looks, my lord, are fitting for my love,
Which, new begun, can show no brighter yet.
BAL. New kindled flames should burn as morning sun.
BEL. But not too fast, least heat and all be done.
I see my lord my father.
BAL. True, my love;
I will go salute him.
CAS. Welcome, Balthazar,
Welcome, brave prince, the pledge of Castile's peace!
And welcome Bel-imperia! How now, girl? ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedie

“ PED. Gramercy, boy! but it was time to come, For I had written to my lord anew A neerer matter that concerneth him, For feare his lordship had forgotten me; But, sith he hath rememberd me so well, Come, come, come on! when shall we to this geere? HIERO. Stand forth, thou monster, murderer of men, And heere, for satisfaction of the world, Confesse thy folly and repent thy fault, For ther's thy place of execution. PED. This is short worke! Well, to your martiallship First I confesse, nor feare I death therefore, I am the man,—twas I slew Serberine. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ KING. Brother of Castille, to the prince's love
What says your daughter Bel-imperia?
CIP. Although she coy it, as becomes her kind,
And yet dissemble that she loves the prince,
I doubt not, aye, but she will stoop in time;
And, were she froward,—which she will not be,—
Yet herein shall she follow my advice,
Which is to love him or forgo my love.
KING. Then, lord ambassador of Portingal,
Advise thy king to make this marriage up
For strengthening of our late-confirmed league;
I know no better means to make us friends.
Her dowry shall be large and liberal ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedie

“ LOR. Then, Pedringano, this is my demaund; Whome loues my sister Bel-imperia? For she reposeth all her trust in thee. Speak, man, and gaine both freendship and reward: I meane, whome loues she in Andreas place? PED. Alas, my lord, since Don Andreas death I haue no credit with her as before, And therefore know not if she loue or no. LOR. Nay, if thou dally, then I am thy foe, And feare shall force what frendship cannot winne. Thy death shall bury what thy life conceales. Thou dyest for more esteeming her than me! [Draws his sword.] PED. Oh stay, my lord! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ In leesing my Horatio, my sweet boy!
Enter ISABELL.
ISA. My husband's absence makes my heart to throb.
Hieronimo!
HIERO. Here, Isabella. Help me to lament;
For sighs are stopp'd, and all my tears are spent.
ISA. What world of grief—my son Horatio!
O where's the author of this endless woe?
HIERO. To know the author were some ease of grief,
For in revenge my heart would find relief.
ISA. Then is he gone? and is my son gone too?
O, gush out, tears! fountains and floods of tears!
Blow, sighs, and raise an everlasting storm;
For outrage fits our cursed wretchedness. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR.
BAL. How now, my lord? what makes you rise so soon?
LOR. Fear of preventing our mishaps too late.
BAL. What mischief is it that we not mistrust?
LOR. Our greatest ills we least mistrust, my lord,
And unexpected harms do hurt us most.
BAL. Why, tell me, Don Lorenz,—tell me, man,
If aught concerns our honour and your own!
LOR. Nor you nor me, my lord, but both in one;
But I suspect—and the presumptions great—
That by those base confed'rates in our fault
Touching the death of Don Horatio
We are all betray'd to old Hieronimo.
BAL. Betray'd, Lorenzo? tush! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR.
LOR. Sister, what means this melancholy walk?
BEL. That for a-while I wish no company.
LOR. But here the prince is come to visit you.
BEL. That argues that he lives in liberty.
BAL. No madam, but in pleasing servitude.
BEL. Your prison then, belike, is your conceit.
BAL. Aye, by conceit my freedom is enthrall'd.
BEL. Then with conceit enlarge yourself again.
BAL. What if conceit have laid my heart to gage?
BEL. Pay that you borrow'd, and recover it.
BAL. I die if it return from whence it lies.
BEL. A heartless man, and live? A miracle! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ HIERO. In Paris? mass, and well remembered!—
There's one thing more that rests for us to do.
BAL. What's that, Hieronimo?
Forget not anything.
HIERO. Each one of us
Must act his part in unknown languages,
That it may breed the more variety:
As you, my lord, in Latin, I in Greek,
You in Italian, and, for-because I know
That Bel-imperia hath practised the French,
In courtly French shall all her phrases be.
BEL. You mean to try my cunning then, Hieronimo!
BAL. But this will be a mere confusion,
And hardly shall we all be understood.
HEIRO. It must be so ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ And by those wounds he forced me to yield,
And by my yielding I became his slave;
Now, in his mouth he carries pleasing words,
Which pleasing words do harbour sweet conceits,
Which sweet conceits are lim'd with sly deceits,
Which sly deceits smooth Bel-imperia's ears,
And through her ears dive down into her heart,
And in her heart set him, where I should stand.
Thus hath he ta'en my body by his force,
And now by sleight would captivate my soul;
But in his fall I'll tempt the Destinies,
And either lose my life or win my love.
LOR. Let's go, my lord; our staying stays revenge. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ I'll kiss thee now, for words with tears are stay'd.
ISA. And I'll close up the glasses of his sight;
For once these eyes were only my delight.
HIERO. See'st thou this handkerchief besmear'd with blood?
It shall not from me till I take revenge;
See'st thou those wounds that yet are bleeding fresh?
I'll not entomb them till I have reveng'd:
Then will I joy amidst my discontent,
Till then, my sorrow never shall be spent.
ISA. The heav'ns are just, murder cannot be hid;
Time is the author of both truth and right,
And time will bring this treachery to light. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Why sit we not? for pleasure asketh ease.
HOR. The more thou sitt'st within these leafy bowers,
The more will Flora deck it with her flowers.
BEL. Aye; but, if Flora spy Horatio here,
Her jealous eye will think I sit too near.
HOR. Hark, madame, how the birds record by night,
For joy that Bel-imperia sits in sight!
BEL. No; Cupid counterfeits the nightingale,
To frame sweet music to Horatio's tale.
HOR. If Cupid sing, then Venus is not far,—
Aye, thou art Venus, or some fairer star!
BEL. If I be Venus, thou must needs be Mars;
And where Mars reigneth, there must needs be wars. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Let loose poor Titius from the vulture's gripe,
And let Don Ciprian supply his room;
Place Don Lorenzo on Ixion's wheel,
And let the lovers' endless pains surcease,
Juno forget old wrath and grant him ease;
Hang Balthazar about Chimera's neck,
And let him there bewail his bloody love,
Repining at our joys that are above;
Let Serberine go roll the fatal stone
And take from Sisyphus his endless moan;
False Pedringano, for his treachery,
Let him be dragg'd through boiling Acheron,
And there live dying still in endless flames,
Blaspheming gods and all their holy names. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ There to repair the joys that it hath lost,
And, sitting safe, to sing in Cupid's choir
That sweetest bliss is crown of love's desire.
BALTHAZAR, above.
BAL. O sleep, mine eyes; see not my love profan'd!
Be deaf, my ears; hear not my discontent!
Die, heart; another joys what thou deserv'st!
LOR. Watch still, mine eyes, to see this love disjoin'd!
Hear still, mine ears, to hear them both lament!
Live, heart, to joy at fond Horatio's fall!
BEL. Why stands Horatio speechless all this while?
HOR. The less I speak, the more I meditate. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ For justice is exiled from the earth.
Hieronimo will bear thee company.
Thy mother cries on righteous Radamant
For just revenge against the murderers.
BAZULTO. Alas, my lord, whence springs this troubled speech?
HIERO. But let me look on my Horatio:
Sweet boy, how art thou chang'd in death's black shade!
Had Proserpine no pity on thy youth,
But suffer'd thy fair crimson-colour'd spring
With wither'd winter to be blasted thus?
Horatio, thou are older than thy father:
Ah, ruthless father, that favour thus transforms.
BA. Ah, my good lord, I am not your young son.
HIE. What! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ LOR. For her, my lord, whom Balthazar doth love,
And to confirm their promis'd marriage.
CAS. She is thy sister.
LOR. Who? Bel-imperia?
Aye, my gracious lord, and this is the day
That I have long'd so happily to see.
CAS. Thou wouldst be loath that any fault of thine
Should intercept her in her happiness?
LOR. Heav'ns will not let Lorenzo err so much.
CAS. Why then, Lorenzo, listen to my words:
It is suspected, and reported too,
That thou, Lorenzo, wrong'st Hieronimo,
And in his suits toward his Majesty
Still keep'st him back and seek'st to cross his suit.
LOR. That I, my lord? ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ PED. I will, my lord.
LOR. Then thou shalt find that I am liberal.
Thou know'st that I can more advance thy state
Than she: be therefore wise and fail me not.
Go and attend her as thy custom is,
Least absence make her think thou dost amiss.
Exit PEDRINGANO.
Why, so, Tam armis quam ingenio:
Where words prevail not, violence prevails.
But gold doth more than either of them both.
How likes Prince Balthazar this stratagem?
BAL. Both well and ill; it makes me glad and sad:
Glad, that I know the hind'rer of my love;
Sad, that I fear she hates me whom I love ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ As dear to me was Horatio
As yours, or yours, my lord, to you.
My guiltless son was by Lorenzo slain;
And by Lorenzo and that Balthazar
Am I at last revenged thoroughly,—
Upon whose souls may Heav'n be yet aveng'd
With greater far than these afflictions!
CAS. But who were thy confederates in this?
VICE. That was thy daughter Bel-imperia;
For by her hand my Balthazar was slain,—
I saw her stab him.
KING. Why speak'st thou not?
HIERO. What lesser liberty can kings afford
Than harmless silence? Then afford it me! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Hieronimo with Lorenzo is join'd in league,
And intercepts our passage to revenge.
Awake, Revenge, or we are woe-begone!
REVENGE. Thus worldings ground what they have dream'd upon!
Content thyself, Andrea; though I sleep,
Yet is my mood soliciting their souls.
Sufficeth thee that poor Hieronimo
Cannot forget his son Horatio.
Nor dies Revenge although he sleep awhile;
For in unquiet, quietness is feign'd,
And slumb'ring is a common worldly wile.
Behold, Andrea, for an instance how
Revenge hath slept; and then imagine thou
What 'tis to be subject to destiny. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Made mountains marsh with spring-tides of my tears,
And broken through the brazen gates of hell;
Yet still tormented is my tortur'd soul
With broken sighs and restless passions,
That, winged, mount, and hovering in the air,
Beat at the windows of the brightest heav'ns,
Soliciting for justice and revenge.
But they are plac'd in those empyreal heights,
Where, countermur'd with walls of diamond,
I find the place impregnable, and they
Resist my woes and give my words no way.
Enter HANGMAN with a letter.
HANG. O Lord, sir! God bless you, sir! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Their prisoner Balthazar, thy viceroy's son:
We pleasure more in kindness than in wars.
AMBASS. Sad is our king, and Portingal laments,
Supposing that Don Balthazar is slain.
BAL. [aside] So am I, slain by beauty's tyranny!—
You see, my lord, how Balthazar is slain:
I frolic with the Duke of Castille's son,
Wrapp'd every hour in pleasures of the court,
And grac'd with favours of his Majesty.
KING. Put off your greetings till our feast be done;
Now come and sit with us, and taste our cheer.
Sit to the banquet.
Sit down, young prince, you are our second guest ”

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Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ Enter HORATIO and BEL-IMPERIA.
HOR. Now, madame, since by favour of your love
Our hidden smoke is turn'd to open flame,
And that with looks and words we feed our thought,—
Two chief contents where more cannot be had,—
Thus in the midst of love's fair blandishments
Why show you sign of inward languishments?
PEDRINGANO showeth all to the PRINCE and
LORENZO, placing them in secret. ”

[↩︎]

Source: Gutenberg

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy

“ It was Horatio, our knight-marshall's son.
AMBASS. Between us there's a price already pitch'd,
And shall be sentwith all convenient speed.
KING. Then once again farewell, my lord!
AMBASS. Farwell, my lord of Castile, and the rest!
Exit.
KING. Now, brother, you must make some little pains
To win fair Bel-imperia from her will;
Young virgins must be ruled by their friends.
The prince is amiable, and loves her well;
If she neglect him and forgo his love,
She both will wrong her own estate and ours. ”

[↩︎]

Source: Gutenberg

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