in twenty pieces. My back o’ t’other side,—O my back, my back! Beshrew your heart for sending me about To catch my death with jauncing up and down. JULIET. I’faith, I am sorry that thou dost excuse. Is thy news good or bad? NURSE. Well, you have your hands full all In this so sudden business. LADY CAPULET. O me! This sight of death is amorous; And that bare vowel I shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. My bosom’s lord sits lightly in his look, Much more than tears with that hand