PLEASE HELP ASAP!!!!!! Of this world's theatre in which we stay,

My love like the spectator idly sits,

Beholding me, that all the pageants play,

Disguising diversly my troubled wits.

Sometimes I joy when glad occasion fits,

And mask in mirth like to a comedy:

Soon after, when my joy to sorrow flits,

I wail, and make my woes a tragedy.

Yet she, beholding me with constant eye,

Delights not in my mirth nor rues my smart:

But when I laugh she mocks, and when I cry

She laughs, and hardens evermore her heart.

What then can move her? If nor mirth nor moan,

She is no woman, but a senseless stone.

What is the rhyme scheme?

Question 2 options:

ABCDEFGHI


AABBAACCAADDAAEE


GHIJKLMNOPQ


ABABBCBCCDCDEE