To live, to die, what path to take, for if I shall live, marry I must to vile Demetrius, but by my death obligation will fly and unto me my freedom shall be. But what of that of my poor Lysander fair, will his heart cry out in mourning for my hasty death, with crys that make the angels weep. Will my soul be plagued with they guilt and remoarse for such a pain afflicted, and by such guilt propal me from the pearly courts, to the firey grave I would such deserve if I were to bring such a hurt to the one I adore. So death is out, for sure my sins would send me to the place where sinners live and burn, and to this path I can't concur. To marry Demetrius, is this the path I must walk, to live as his wife, to have his child. If this be my fate, than bring on the flames, for I would rather burn, than wake to his face. Yet if I burn my poor Lysander weeps, so than off to the nunnery must I be. To sing the songs and say the prayers, but to the cloth my heart will not bow, for the owner of my heart will not give way, stay true with Lysander my weaken heart, for the eyes will stregthen by the sight of your love, and to live on a to a day when our love shall be, for one day love will find us both a path on which our love can be.