Brave Anger!

A curse upon thee, for a slave!
Art thou here, and heard'st me rave?
Fly not sparkles from mine eye,
To show my indignation nigh?
Am I not all foam and fire,
With voice as hoarse as a town-crier?
How my back opes and shuts together
With fury, as old men's with weather!
Could'st thou not hear my teeth gnash hither?
Death, hell, fiends, and darkness!
I will thrash thy mangy carcase!
There cannot be too many tortures
Spent upon those lousy quarters.
Thou nasty, scurvy, mongrel toad,
Mischief on thee!

Light upon thee
All the plagues that can confound thee,
Or did ever reign abroad!
Better a thousand lives it cost,
Than have brave anger spilt or lost.