Two households, both alike in dignity in fair Verona, where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny where civil blood makes civile hands unclean. From forth the faital loins of these two foes a pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; whose misadventured piteous overthrows doth wiht their death bury their parents' strife.
Juliet: O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I shall no longer be a Capulet.
Romeo: Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
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. Oh, what's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection to which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name! And for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself.
History been keeping more Romeos and Juliets apart. Protestant and Catholic...