Shakespeare play from quotes

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Can you name the Shakespeare plays from quotes?

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

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