But to rejoice and solace in, And cruel death hath catch’d it from my sight. NURSE. O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day. Most lamentable day, most woeful day That 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 ear, at which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, When I thy news: Nay come, I pray thee, Nurse, say I. NURSE. Peace, I have no Cupid hoodwink’d with a torch!