Act I, Scene 75

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• Shakespeare. So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
  Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground;
  And for the peace of you I hold such strife
  As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found; 1040
  Now proud as an enjoyer and anon
  Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure,
  Now counting best to be with you alone,
  Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure;
  Sometime all full with feasting on your sight 1045
  And by and by clean starved for a look;
  Possessing or pursuing no delight,
  Save what is had or must from you be took.
  Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
  Or gluttoning on all, or all away. 1050