Shakespeare play from quotes

Random Literature or Shakespeare Quiz

Can you name the Shakespeare plays from quotes?

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

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