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Bianca, let Me pay the debt I owe thee for a kiss Thou lend'st to me, And I to thee Will render ten for this. If thou wilt say Ten will not pay For that so rich a one; I'll clear the sum, If it will come Unto a million. By this, I guess, Of happiness Who has a little measure, He must of right To th' utmost mite Make payment for his pleasure.

How rich and pleasing thou, my Julia, art In each thy dainty and peculiar part! First, for thy queenship, on thy head is set Of flowers a sweet commingled coronet: About thy neck a carcanet is bound, Made of the ruby, pearl and diamond: