Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Polon. Polon.
Polon. Marry Ile teach you; thinke your selfe a Baby,
Polon. That you haue tane his tenders for true pay,
Polon. Which are not starling. Tender your selfe more dearly;
Polon. Or not to crack the winde of the poore Phrase,
Polon. Roaming it thus, you'l tender me a foole.
Ophe. Ophe.
Ophe. My Lord, he hath importun'd me with loue,
Ophe. In honourable fashion.
Polon. I, fashion you may call it, go too, go too.
Ophe. And hath giuen countenance to his speech,
Ophe. My Lord, with all the vowes of Heauen.
Polon. I, Springes to catch Woodcocks. I doe know
Polon. When the Bloud burnes, how Prodigall the Soule
Polon. Giues the tongue vowes: these blazes, Daughter,
Polon. Giuing more light then heate; extinct in both,
Polon. Euen in their promise, as it is a making;