Act I, Scene 83

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• Shakespeare. I never saw that you did painting need
  And therefore to your fair no painting set; 1150
  I found, or thought I found, you did exceed
  The barren tender of a poet's debt;
  And therefore have I slept in your report,
  That you yourself being extant well might show
  How far a modern quill doth come too short, 1155
  Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow.
  This silence for my sin you did impute,
  Which shall be most my glory, being dumb;
  For I impair not beauty being mute,
  When others would give life and bring a tomb. 1160
  There lives more life in one of your fair eyes
  Than both your poets can in praise devise.