Act I, Scene 82

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• Shakespeare. I grant thou wert not married to my Muse 1135
  And therefore mayst without attaint o'erlook
  The dedicated words which writers use
  Of their fair subject, blessing every book
  Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,
  Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, 1140
  And therefore art enforced to seek anew
  Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days
  And do so, love; yet when they have devised
  What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
  Thou truly fair wert truly sympathized 1145
  In true plain words by thy true-telling friend;
  And their gross painting might be better used
  Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abused.