Sergiu we lament thee. I have composed a short verse to show our collective sorrow:
O Sergiu, Sergiu, wherefore art thou Sergiu?
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....
'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;--
Thou art thyself though, not a Scummer.
What's a Scummer? 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 Sergiu would, were he not Sergiu call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title:--Sergiu, doff thy name;
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.
