“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, nor face, nor any other partBelonging to a man. O, be some other name!What’s in a name? that which we call a roseBy any other name would smell as sweet;So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,Retain that dear perfection which he owesWithout that title. Romeo, doff thy name,And for that name which is no part of theeTake all myself.I take thee at thy word:Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized;Henceforth I never will be Romeo.What man art thou that thus bescreen’din nightSo stumblest on my counsel?By a nameI know not how to tell thee who I am:My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,Because it is an enemy to thee;Had I it written, I would tear the word.My ears have not yet drunk a hundred wordsOf that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound:”

“O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father refuse thy name, thou art thyself thou not a montegue, what is montegue? tis nor hand nor foot nor any other part belonging to a man What is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, So Romeo would were he not Romeo called retain such dear perfection to which he owes without that title, Romeo, Doth thy name! And for that name which is no part of thee, take all thyself.”

“I take thee at thy word:Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;Henceforth I never will be Romeo.”

“Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name.”

“Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love. That inward beauty and invisible;Or were I deaf, thy outward parts would move each part in me that were but sensible: Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see, yet should I be in love by touching thee.'Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me, and that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch, and nothing but the very smell were left me, yet would my love to thee be still as much; for from the stillitory of thy face excelling comes breath perfum'd that breedeth love by smelling.”

“What's in a name? that which we call a roseBy any other name would smell as sweet.”