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Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan For that deep wound it gives my friend and me; Is’t not enough to torture me alone, But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be? (Sonnet 133)
Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me; He pays the whole, and yet am I not free. (Sonnet 134)
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 colored ill. (Sonnet 144)
