Shakespeare Characters by Lines

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Can you name the Shakespeare Characters by Lines?

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LinesSpeakerPlay
We do pray for mercy, / And that same prayer doth teach us all to render / The deeds of mercy.
You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more willingly part withal--except my life, my life, my life.
There's fennel for you, and columbines. There's rue for you, and here's some for me.
My noble father, / I do perceive here a divided duty.
His life was gentle, and the elements / So mixed in him that nature might stand up / And say to all the world 'This was a man.'
Because I cannot flatter and look fair, / Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog ... I must be held a rancorous enemy.
You gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?
Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
From Alexandria / This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes / The lamps of night in revel.
Then am I kinged again, and by and by / Think that I am unkinged by Bolingbroke, / And straight am nothing.
I will aggravate my voice so that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove. I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid ... I'll serve this duke. / Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him.
So thanks to all at once, and to each one, / Whom we invite to see us crowned at Scone.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, / Which thou tak'st from me.
I never may believe / These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. / Lovers and madmen have such seething brains.
LinesSpeakerPlay
O brave new world / That has such people in't!
For suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe. / You call me misbeliever, cut-throat, dog.
That a woman conceived me, I thank her. That she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks. But ... I will live a bachelor.
The powers that he already hath in Gallia / Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves / His war for Britain.
Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signor Benedick?
Indeed, I am in the waist two yards about.
Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter... As much as child e'er loved, or father found.
This is the feast that I have bid her to, / And this is the banquet she shall surfeit on.
I'll no longer be guilty of this sin. This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh...
And you, good yeomen, / Whose limbs were made in England, show us here / The mettle of your pasture.
I'll lay fourteen of my teeth--and yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four--she's not fourteen.
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. ... 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but 'tis enough. 'Twill serve.
It is the law, not I, condemn your brother. / Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son, / It should be thus with him. He must die tomorrow.
Give me my robe. Put on my crown. I have / Immortal longings in me. Now no more / The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip.
I know she is an irksome brawling scold. / If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.

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