In Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, there are many traits one could assign to Juliet. The three I would choose are loyalty, a willingness to take risks, and complete love and devotion.
We see Juliet practicing loyalty when she defends Romeo against blame for Tybalt's death, when Romeo has killed Tybalt because he murdered Mercutio.
Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name
When I, thy three-hours’ wife, have mangled it?
But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?(105)
That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband. (III.ii.102-106)
When Juliet learns that she will be forced to marry Paris, and because she is already married—and loves another—Juliet goes to the Friar to see if he can help. He has a potion that will make her look dead so that she could not marry Paris. He asks if she is willing to try it; it will seem like death, but he expects she would try to kill herself anyway rather than marry Paris, and so this plan should not seem too dangerous to her.
Hold, daughter. I do spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry County Paris,
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
That cop’st with death himself to scape from it;
And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy. (IV.i.69-77)
Juliet answers that she would jump off the battlements, place herself in the company of snakes, or be locked up in a place with dead bodies every night (foreshadowing), rather than marry Paris. She would lie in a grave, covered with a corpse's shroud, or anything that might otherwise make her tremble; anything she will do without fear for the love she bears Romeo.
…tell me to get into a new-made grave,
And hide myself with a dead man in his shroud,
Things that, when I heard about them, made me tremble,
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an pure wife to my sweet love. (IV.i.85-90)
When Juliet discovers that Romeo is dead, we see how completely she loves him—she cannot live without him, so she kills herself.
Go, get thee hence, for I will not away…
What's here? A cup, clos'd in my true love's hand?
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.
O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop
To help me after? I will kiss thy lips.
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them
To make me die with a restorative.
Thy lips are warm! …
…Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!
This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.