No keyword-matching excerpt could be extracted (the cluster label doesn't share vocabulary with this character's speech).
Full speech
You may go look. Yet if you ask me mildly, perhaps I'll answer you. My name is Choler. I was beg to by Fire on Nature's Cookmaid in the time of a Festival. I was dry nursed by a lean Butterwife, and bred up in Mars his Fencing-school: where I have learnt a mystery that consists in lying, distance and direction; pace, space and place; Time, motion and Actium; progression, reversion and trav rsion; blows, thrusts, falses, doubles, ships and wards; closings, gripes and wrastlings; fights guardant, open, variable and close. Then have we our stocatas, imbrocatas, mandritas, puintas and puintas reversas; our stramisons, passatas, carricadas, amazzas and incartatas. Terms in our dialect to pusle desperate igno rance. He hath stirred me sir, and I will be angry. Phlegm's a fool. I'll soon be up again. Provoke me no more: I am adust with rage, and will make you and odd num ber. I am angry at it. We shall have moral now in stead of Martial discipline. Challenges will be pro claimed cowardice: and every white-livered silk-skinned Lady-courtier will answer a men anger with, if it were not for the law and conscience. If no body will pro voke me, I'll quarrel with my self. Phlegm thou art a Mountebank, and I will make thee quake. Let's kill them presently. A rough Soldiers phrase; a strong back, and a brawny limb: bait her with these shee'l bite home. If she be coy, kick her in the breech, and cry farewell: after a few dissembling tears shee'l yield with the grea ter appetite. If she refused me, I'de kill her. I hope sir our after familiarity will be the often taking down of Cholers stomach. We should agree well; we both love fire. Why, this is rare. I am not angry. You lie too open. Guard your self better, or I shall bang your coat. I'll do it. Blood's not worthy the employment. Thou liest in thy throat. But we will have more health, and less health; or I will make a close stool pan of your Physicians nod dle. I will not be pacified. He that deny's health let him think himself dead ever he pronounce it. Choler's dry. Blood's a skipjack, and I will make him caper. Let's kill him, or he'll kill us.
Plot summary
Plot — Microcosmus
The four elements, children of Nature and Janus, fight with one another. Janus' attempts to discipline them prove ineffectual, so Nature tries to persuade them to procreate. She invokes the help of Love, who creates concord between the elements through the music of the spheres. Earth gives birth to Physander, the perfect being. The four humours become his servants, and Love brings him Bellanima to be his wife. But Bellanima brings with her a good and bad genius, who can each influence Physander's moral actions. He succumbs to temptation, dismisses the good genius, and seeks out the whore Sensuality. The four humours suggest ways of wooing her: Choler proposes violence, Blood, dance, Phlegm, language, and Melancholy, pathos. The five senses, Sensuality's servants, conduct him to her, and she seduces him with the promise of luxury. Bellanima attempts to reclaim him, but he refuses her. After sleeping with Sensuality, Physander falls ill. The humours drunkenly attack him, and Sensuality disowns him. He feels ashamed at having left his wife for a whore. Bellanima summons Temperance to cure his wounds; she prescribes a simple life and frugal diet, and he is cured. The evil genius still maliciously seeks his destruction, and plans to drive him to suicide through remorse. He is tormented by Furies and accused before the court of Conscience; Despair prosecutes, andHope speaks for thedefence. Physander admits his marital crimes, but his penitence and commitment to future fidelity save him from punishment. With no further power over him, the evil genius can only torment herself; Sensuality, reduced to beggary, joins her on the road to Hell. Love accepts Physander and Bellanima into Elysium, and they are crowned with stars.