Show to what sad distraction I am brought.
Sometimes with stubborn honour, like this boot,
My mind is guarded, and resolv'd to do't:
Sometimes again, that very mind, by love
Disarméd, like this other leg does prove.
Shall I to honour or to love give way?
Go on, cries honour;[33] tender love says, nay;
Honour aloud commands, pluck both boots on;
But softer love does whisper, put on none.
What shall I do! what conduct shall I find,