Clo. Are you ready, sir?
50
Duke. [Ay; prithee], sing. [Music.
Song.
Clo. Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
Fly away, [fly] away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
[O, prepare] it!