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Sonnet 144

Original Text

Two loves I have of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman colour’d ill.

Modern English

I have two loves — one brings me comfort, one despair. Like two spirits, they work on me constantly. My better angel is a beautiful young man; my worse one is a woman of dark and troubled coloring.

Original Text

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 foul pride.

Modern English

To drag me quickly into hell, my female evil is trying to lure my good angel away from me, working to corrupt my saint into a devil, seducing his purity with her own corrupt desire.

Original Text

And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend, Suspect I may, yet not directly tell; But being both from me, both to each friend, I guess one angel in another’s hell:

Modern English

Whether my angel has already turned into a fiend I can only suspect — I have no way to know for certain; but since both have left me and are together now, I can only guess that one angel is inside the other's hell.

Original Text

Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt, Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

Modern English

I'll never know the truth, but live in doubt of it, until my bad angel burns my good one out.

Shakespeare's Sonnets

Sonnet 144

Sonnet 144