1 A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
2 As I remember, this should be the house.
3 A dog of that house shall move me to stand.
4 Graze where you will, you shall not house with me.
5 Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of Montagues.
6 Help me into some house, Benvolio, Or I shall faint.
7 Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a letter to his father's house.
8 I would not for the wealth of all the town Here in my house do him disparagement.
9 Marry, bachelor, Her mother is the lady of the house, And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.
10 Commend me to thy lady, And bid her hasten all the house to bed, Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.
11 My master is the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray come and crush a cup of wine.
12 Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, And therefore have I little talk'd of love; For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
13 He rests his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause.
14 At my poor house look to behold this night Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: Such comfort as do lusty young men feel When well apparell'd April on the heel Of limping winter treads, even such delight Among fresh female buds shall you this night Inherit at my house.
15 Going to find a barefoot brother out, One of our order, to associate me, Here in this city visiting the sick, And finding him, the searchers of the town, Suspecting that we both were in a house Where the infectious pestilence did reign, Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth, So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.