FRAILTY.

Frailty, thy name is woman!

Sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.

Nay, women are frail too:

Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves,
Which are as easy broke as they make forms.

Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine,
Who, falling in the flames of her own youth,
Hath blistered her report.

FRIBBLES (See also COXCOMBS).

H. i. 2.

T. C. iv. 4.

M. M. ii. 4.

M.M. ii. 3.

Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such water-flies; diminutives of nature!

I remember, when the fight was done,

When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd,
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin, new reap'd,
Show'd like a stubble land at harvest home.
He was perfumed like a milliner;

And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon

He gave his nose, and took't away again ;—
Who, therewith angry, when it next came there,
Took it in snuff;-and still he smil'd, 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 pester'd with a popinjay,

Out of my grief and my impatience,

Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what;

He should, or should not; for he made me mad,

To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,

And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman,

T. C. v. 1.

Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (God save the mark!)
And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth

Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise;

And that it was great pity, so it was,

That villainous saltpetre should be digg'd

Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,

FRIBBLES,-continued.

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 this report

Come current for an accusation,

Betwixt my love and your high Majesty. H. IV. PT. 1. i. 3. FRIEND.

Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice,

And could of men distinguish her election,

She had seal'd thee for herself: for thou hast been
As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing;

A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards

Hast ta'en with equal thanks; and bless'd are those
Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled,
That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger
To sound what stop she please: Give me that man
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
In
my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.

Who, in want, a hollow friend doth try,
Directly seasons him an enemy.

H. iii. 2.

H. iii. 2.

O, you gods! think I, what need we have any friends? they were the most needless creatures living, if we should never have need of them? They would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. We are born to do benefits. O what a precious comfort 'tis to have so many like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes!

Commend me to him; I will send his ransom;
And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me ;-
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,

But to support him after.

The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
The best-condition'd and unweary'd spirit
In doing courtesies; and one in whom
The antient Roman honour more appears,
Than any that draws breath in Italy.
I count myself in nothing else so happy,
As in a soul remembering my good friends;
And as my fortune ripens with my love,
It shall be still my true love's recompense.

We still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;

T. A. i. 2.

T. A. i. 1.

M.V. iii. 2.

R. II. ii. 3.

FRIEND,-continued.

And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans
Still we went coupled and inseparable.

Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond,

A. Y. i. 3.

M. N. iii. 2.

Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description

Shall lose a hair through my Bassanio's fault.

M. V. iii. 2.

The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily_untie.

T. C. ii. 3.

I should fear those, who dance before me now,
Would one day stamp upon me: It has been done;
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

Every man will be thy friend

While thou hast wherewithal to spend ;
But if store of crowns be scant,

No man will supply thy want.

There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
Make gallant show and promise of their mettle;
But when they should endure the bloody spur,
They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades,
Sink in the trial.

Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd,
The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us,-O, is all now forgot?
All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?

T. A. i. 2.

Poems.

J. C. iv. 2.

M. N. iii. 2.

The great man down, you mark his favourite flies,
The poor advanc'd makes friends of enemies.
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend;
For who not needs, shall never lack a friend;
And who in want a hollow friend doth try,
Directly seasons him an enemy.

Friendship's full of dregs.

Canst thou the conscience lack,

To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart;
If I could broach the vessels of my love,

And try the argument of hearts by borrowing,
Men, and men's fortunes, could I frankly use,
As I can bid thee speak.

H. iii. 2.

T. A. i. 2.

T. A. ii. 2.

FRIEND,-continued.

Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,

If thou but think'st him wrong'd, and mak'st his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.

O let me twine

Here I clip

Mine arms about that body, where against
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke,
And scar'd the moon with splinters!
The anvil of my sword; and do contest
As hotly and as nobly with thy love,
As ever in ambitious strength I did
Contend against thy valour.

Friendship is constant in all other things,
Save in the office and affairs of love.

By heaven, I cannot flatter! I defy
The tongues of soothers; but a braver place
In my heart's love, hath no man than yourself;
Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.

O. iii. 3

C. iv. 5.

M. A. ii. 1.

H. IV. PT. I. iv. 1.

Brutus hath riv'd my heart:
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Give him all kindness: I had rather have
Such men my friends, than enemies.

That we have been familiar,

Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather

Than pity note how much.

Now do I play the touch,

To try if thou be current gold indeed.

COOLING.

I have not from your eyes that gentleness,
And show of love, as I was wont to have:

You bear too stubborn, and too strange a hand,
Over your friend that loves you.

Thou hast describ'd

A hot friend cooling: Ever note, Lucilius,

When love begins to sicken and decay,

It useth an enforced ceremony.

Mere fetches:

The images of revolt and flying off.

FRIENDSHIP ASSIMILATES FRIENDS.

For in companions

That do converse and waste the time together,
Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love,

J. C. iv. 3.

J. C. v. 4.

C. v. 2.

R. III. iv. 2.

J. C. i. 2.

J. C. iv. 2.

K. L. ii. 4.

FRIENDSHIP ASSIMILATES FRIENDS,-continued.

There must be needs a like proportion
Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit.
FRIGIDITY (See also COLDNESS).
What a frosty-spirited rogue is this!
FROWN.

He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
Leap'd from his eyes.

FUNERAL RITES.

Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd

M.V. iii. 4.

H. IV. PT. I. ii. 3.

H.VIII. ii. 2

As we have warranty: Her death was doubtful;
And, but that great command o'er-sways the order,
She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'd
Till the last trumpet; for charitable

prayers,

Shards, flints, and pebbles, should be thrown on her;
Yet here she is allow'd her virgin rites,

Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell, and burial.

Let it be so, and let Andronicus

Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps.

TEARS.

Though fond nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.

H. v. 1.

Tit. And. i. 2.

R. J. iv. 5.

Comfort, dear mother; God is much displeas'd,
That you take with unthankfulness his doing;
In common worldly things, 'tis call'd-ungrateful,
With dull unwillingness to repay a debt,

H. iv. 7.

Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent. R. III. ii. 2.

FURY.

O, I warrant, how he mammock'd it!

Let me speak; and let me rail so high,

That the false housewife, Fortune, break her wheel,

Provok'd by my offence.

I understand a fury in your words,

But not the words.

FUTURITY.

O that a man might know

The end of this day's business, ere it come!

C. i. 3.

A. C. iv. 13

0. iv. 2.

J. C. v. 1.