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- She’s speaking. Oh speak again, bright angel. After all, you look as glorious above me as an angel in heaven sailing through the lazy clouds would look to mortals gazing up in wonder.
- Oh my
- Shall I wait for her to say more, or shall I answer her now?
- O Romeo, Romeo! Why are you named Romeo? Disown your family and refuse your name. Or, if you will not, then swear that you love me and I’ll stop being a Capulet.
- I’ll take you at your word. Just call me love, and I’ll re-baptize myself with a different name. From now on I won’t be Romeo.
- It’s only your name which is my enemy. You are who you are, even if you weren’t a Montague. What is a Montague? It’s not a hand, nor a foot, nor an arm, nor a face, nor any other concrete part of the body. Oh, be some other name! What’s in a name? A rose would smell just as sweet if we called it by any other name.
- Love prompted me to ask where you live. He gave me directions, and I lent him my eyes to find where you live.
- I wouldn’t have them see you here for the whole world.
- Who gave you directions to my house?
- What, there’s more risk in your eyes than in twenty of their swords.
- I haven’t even heard that tongue speak a hundred words, but I recognize the voice. Aren’t you Romeo, and a Montague?
- If they do see you here, they’ll murder you.
- I don’t know how to tell you who I am by using my name. My name, my dear saint, is now awful to me, since it’s your enemy.
- Who is this man who’s hidingin the night and overhearing my private thoughts?
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