By Any Other Name

[Romeo comes forward, Juliet entering above]

Romeo
He jests at scars that never felt a wound -
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
It is my lady, O it is my love,
O that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold; 'tis not to me she spaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if here eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it wer not night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might tough that cheek!

Juliet                                   Ay me.

Romeo (aside)                                 She speaks.
O speak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
As is a wingèd messenger of heaven
Unto the white upturnèd wond'ring eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air.

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'll no longer be a Capulet.

Romeo (aside)
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. 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 he not 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.

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

Juliet
What man art thou that, thus bescreened in hight,
So stumblest on my counsel?

Romeo                               By a name
I 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. (2.1.44-100)

So, I am not really a fan of Romeo and Juliet. I know it is this well-known, tragic love story, but it mostly just annoys me. I can't stand the fact that there is no real villian. I think this is particularly unfortunate because Shakespeare writes some incredible villians. In the end it is really timing, or luck, or cosmic alignment that ruins everything, and that just isn't satisfying enough for me. Plus, Romeo and Juliet are really just incredibly whiny teenagers. And they make idiotic decisions. And they complain all the time. I don't think that my view of this play is helped by the Baz Lurhman film adaptation either. I know that I have friends who may disown me over this statement, but I actually really dislike that movie. This is due partly to the fact that I have a major bias against Leonardo DiCaprio, but is also because I find Romeo and Juliet even more annoying and whiny in the film than in the play. And the film totally changes the ending so that Juliet is waking up as Romeo is killing himself and so he knows that she wasn't actually dead. I mean, come on, that just makes everything that much worse. Now he knows how stupid he was. Really? Anyway. Moving on. Despite my dislike of this particular play I will admit that the iconic balcony scene is exceptionally romantic. I mean, they speak in spontaneous sonnets that are shared between them. And the imagery is incredible. So, as cheesy and overused as some of these lines are, they really are beautiful.

I really love this picture of one of my mom's roses in the garden. She bought this bush this summer and the roses are a gorgeous coral-pink. I'm not the biggest fan of roses in general, but I will admit that they make for great photographs. But would it really be as lovely if it was called something else?