Shakespeare play from quotes

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Can you name the Shakespeare plays from quotes?

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Had I but served my God with half the zeal/I served my king, he would not in mine age/Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Golden lads and girls all must,/As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.
The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.
The quality of mercy is not strain’d
A plague o’ both your houses!
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,/But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,/Chaos is come again.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale/Her infinite variety.
O, that this too too solid flesh would melt,/Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Now is the winter of our discontent/Made glorious summer by this sun of York
How use doth breed a habit in a man!
A young man married is a man that ’s marr’d
That no Italian priest/Shall tithe or toll in our dominions.
If it were done when ’t is done, then ’t were well/It were done quickly
Let’s go hand in hand, not one before another
If music be the food of love, play on
The better part of valour is discretion.
I will make a Star-chamber matter of it.
And many strokes, though with a little axe,/Hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,/Even such a woman oweth to her husband.
As an arrow shot/From a well-experienc’d archer hits the mark/His eye doth level at.
Our revels now are ended.
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world/Like a Colossus, and we petty men/Walk under his huge legs and peep about/To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
As flies to wanton boys are we to th' gods,/They kill us for their sport.
The eagle suffers little birds to sing.
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.
His nature is too noble for the world:/He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,/Or Jove for ’s power to thunder.
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground/And tell sad stories of the death of kings.
We have heard the chimes at midnight.
The common curse of mankind,—folly and ignorance.
All the world ’s a stage,/And all the men and women merely players.
O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend/The brightest heaven of invention!
He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man.

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