Sonnet 144

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1. Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
2. Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
3. The better angel is a man right fair,
4. The worser spirit a woman colour’d ill.
5. To win me soon to hell, my female evil,
6. Tempteth my better angel from my side,
7. And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
8. Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
9. And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend,
10. Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;
11. But being both from me, both to each friend,
12. I guess one angel in another’s hell:
13. Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,
14. Till my bad angel fire my good one out.