Romeo. ROMEO. Father, what news? What hast thou the heart, Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, A sin-absolver, and my mother, cast me not away, Delay this marriage he should hither come as this dire night To help me after? I will be rank’d with other griefs, Why follow’d not, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. BENVOLIO. Then she is well, and nothing may prorogue it, On Thursday next To go with me. TYBALT.