Angry.
Having all his thoughts bound up in choler The icie current of his frozen blood ••s k••ndled up in agonies as hot As flames of burning Sulphur The ashy paleness of his cheeks. ••s scarlated in ruddy flakes of wrath, And like a bearded Meteor doth suck up With swiftest terrour all the dusky mists That over-cloud compassion in the brest, ••mpatience lowreth in his face, a February face, All full of frosts, and storms and cloudiness, And were his eye balls into bullets turn'd He would in rage have shot them at his face. Their eyes sparkling like the beaten flint Like Ajax Telamonius, When he on sheep and oxen spent his fury, Nor can he buckle his distemperd passion Within the belt of reason▪ Like a tyled house on fire, no coming near to quench it.Had Narcissus lookt so when he was angry, and seen his own face, he could never have been in love with himself.
Fierce anger makes▪ the blood grow hot, Even as a fire-brand doth the seething pot; And then thy flaming eyes sparkling forth fire, Thou sayest and dost so in thy furious ire, That mad Orestes dares swear such a fact None but a man stark mad ere durst to act.All his flegm is turned into choler. If God should have then armed him with thunder in 24. houres, there had neither been tent nor pavillion.
As if all his humours had turnd choller, His heart too great too great for his strait bosome grew Transported with his rage. Like to the chafed bore, whom eager hounds Have at a bay and terrifie with sounds. With eyes confessing rage, and eye-browes knit Her face as much as rage would suffer, fair. She stops, and shaking her dishevelld hair, So boyled Progne when she knew, Her sisters rape. His eyes blaze blood and fire, He frowns with eyes that sparkle fire,