Marry, I’ll teach you: think yourself a baby; That you have ta’en these tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; Or⁠—not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Running it thus⁠—you’ll tender me a fool.

My lord, he hath importuned me with love In honourable fashion.

And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven.