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Act I, Scene 144

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  • Shakespeare. Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
    Which like two spirits do suggest me still: 2005
    The better angel is a man right fair,
    The worser spirit a woman colour'd 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, 2010
    Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
    And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend
    Suspect I may, but not directly tell;
    But being both from me, both to each friend,
    I guess one angel in another's hell: 2015
    Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
    Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

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