"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy,

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.

What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,

Nor arm, not face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O be some other name!

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

And for that name, which is no part of thee,

Take all myself."