The poem
Biancha, 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.
He must of right, To th' utmost mite, Make payment for his pleasure, (By this I guess) Of happiness Who has a little measure.