Monologue:
'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 part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet.
So Romeo would, were it Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And, for thy name which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.