Frailty, thy name is woman

OPHELIA
He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders

Of his affection to me.

LORD POLONIUS
Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl,

Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.

Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?

OPHELIA
I do not know, my lord, what I should think.

(Hamlet Act I, Scene III)