Pure lips, sweet seals an my soft lips imprinted,
What bargains may I make, still to the sealing?
To sell myself I can be well contented,
So thou wilt buy and pay and use good dealing,
Which purchase if thou make, for fear of slips
Set thy seal manual on my wax-red lips.
A thousand kisses buys my heart from me;
And pay them at they leisure, one by one.
What is ten hundred touches unto thee?
Are they not quickly told and quickly gone?
Say for nonpayment that the debt should double,
Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?