Shakespeare play from quotes

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Can you name the Shakespeare plays from quotes?

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

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