Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, That like two spirits do suggest me still;My better angle is a man right fair, My worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
To win me soon to hell, my female evil Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, Wooing his purity with her fair pride.
And whether that my angle be turned fiend, Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;For being both to me, both to each friend, I guess one angel in another's hell.
The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt, Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
