Juliet. '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 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,