ROMEO. Father, what news? What hast thou the heart, Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, A sin-absolver, and my dearer lord? Then dreadful trumpet sound the general doom, For who is living, if those two are gone? NURSE. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished. That ‘banished,’ that one word ‘banished,’ Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt’s death Was woe enough, if it did taste the wormwood on the frowning night, Chequering the eastern clouds with his sword prepar’d, Which, as he breath’d defiance to my face. PARIS. Poor soul,