O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love
Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou are thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face. O, be some other name Belong to a man. What's in a name/ That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title, Romeo, doff thy name, And, nor thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself
If they do see thee, they will murder thee. 2
With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me1
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet And I am proof against their enmity. 3