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Their hissing necks upon them from above,
Hatred of a rival in glory.
He is my bane, I cannot bear him;
ANGER, RAGE, FURY.
When hatred and displeasure rise high on a sudden from an apprehension of injury received, and perturbation of mind in consequence of it, it is called anger; and rising to a very high degree, and extinguishing humanity, becomes rage and fury.
Anger, when violent, expresses itself with rapidity, noise, harshness, and sometimes with interruption and hesitation, as if unable to utter itself with sufficient force. It wrinkles the brows, enlarges and heaves the nostrils, strains the muscles, clinches the fist, stamps with the foot, and gives a violent agitation to the whole body. The voice assumes the highest tone it can adopt consistently with force and loudness, though sometimes to express anger with uncommon energy, the voice assumes a low and forcible tone.
Narrative in suppressed Anger.
My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
A pouncet-box which ever and anon,
He gave his nose, and took't away again 'e--
Who, therewith angry when it next came there,
Took it in snuff—and still he smiled and talk'd,
And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He call'd them—untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly, unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
With many holiday and lady terms,
He question'd me, among the rest demanded
My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf.
I then all smarting with my wounds being cold,
To be so pestered with a popinjay,
Out of my grief and my impatience
Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what,
He should, or he should not;—for he made me mad,
To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman,
Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (heav'n save the mark!)
And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth,
Was parmacity for an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, so it was,
That villanous salt-petre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
This bald, unjointed chat of his, my lord,
I answer'd indirectly, as I said,
And I beseech you, let not his report,
Come current for an accusation,
Betwixt my love and your high majesty.
Shakespeare's Henry IV. First Part.
Scorn and violent Anger, reproving.
Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle,
I am no traitor's uncle; and that word—tgrace
In an ungracious mouth is but profane;
Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground?
But more than why—Why have they dar'd to march
So many miles upon her peaceful bosom;
Frighting her pale fac'd villages with war,
And ostentation of despised arms?
Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence?
Why foolish boy, the king is left behind,
Revenge is a propensity and endeavour to injure
offender, which is attended with triumph and ex
ultation when the injury is accomplished. It expresses itself like malice, but more openly, loudly, and triumphantly.
I know not : if they speak but truth of her
Oh, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
Alive 1 in triumph ! and Mercutio slain!
And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now i-..
Romeo and Juliet.
Reproach is settled anger or hatred chastising the object of dislike, by casting in his teeth the severest censures upon his imperfections or misconduct: the brow is contracted, the lip turned up with scorn, the head shaken, the voice low, as if abhorring, and the whole body expressive of aversion.
Reproaching -with Stupidity and Inconstancy.
Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home i
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew ye not Pompey i Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To tow'rs and windows, yea, to chimney tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath his banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in his concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Run to your houses ; fall upon your knees,
Shakesp. Jul. Cat. Reproaching with want of Friendship,
You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats; For I am arm'd so strong in honesty, That they pass by me, as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you deny'd me; For I can raise no money by vile means; No, Cassius, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you deny'd me: Was that done like Cassius Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal-counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts, Dash him to pieces. Ibid;
Reproaching with want of Manlinest.
O proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fears; This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said, Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and starts, (Impostors to true fear) would well become A woman's story, at a winter's fire, Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself! Why do you make such faces ? When all's done, You look but on a stool. Hid. Macbeth.
Reproaching with want of Courage and Spirit.
Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward,
Thou little valiant, great in villany!
Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!
Thou fortune's champion, thou dost never fight
But when her humorous ladyship is by
To teach thee safety! thou art perjur'd too,
And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool; to brag and stamp, and swear,
Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave,
Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side,
Been sworn my soldier i Bidding me depend
Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength i