Page 556 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3
P. 556
CLOWN
(Sings)
Come away, come away death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid.
Fie away, fie away breath,
I am slain by a fair cruel maid:
May shroud of white, stuck all with yew, [55]
O prepare it.
My part of death no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet.
On my black coffin let there be strewn: [60]
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O where
Sad true lover never find my grave, [65]
To weep there.
DUKE
There’s for thy pains.
(Giving him money.)
CLOWN
No pains, sir, I take pleasure in singing, sir.
DUKE
I’ll pay thy pleasure then.
CLOWN
Truly sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or [70] another.
DUKE
Give me now leave to leave thee.
CLOWN
Now the melancholy god protect thee, and the tailor make thy doublet of
