Act I, Scene 9

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• Shakespeare. Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye
  That thou consumest thyself in single life?
  Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die. 115
  The world will wail thee, like a makeless wife;
  The world will be thy widow and still weep
  That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
  When every private widow well may keep
  By children's eyes her husband's shape in mind. 120
  Look, what an unthrift in the world doth spend
  Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
  But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
  And kept unused, the user so destroys it.
  No love toward others in that bosom sits 125
  That on himself such murderous shame commits.