Shakespeare Character's First Lines

Random Literature or Shakespeare Quiz

Can you name the Shakespeare Characters by First Lines?

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First Line of CharacterCharacter
Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this son of York; and all the clouds that loured upon our house in the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Always obedient to your grace's will, I come to know your pleasure.
What country, friends, is this?
Thou are so fat-witted with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon...
There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned.
Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus.
Ay me, sad hours seem long.
Princes, what grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?
Verona, for a while I take my leave to see my friend in Padua.
I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.
I am, my lord, as well derived as he, as well possessed.
Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, that, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, make yourselves scabs?
I have, Antiochus, and with a soul emboldened with the glory of her praise think death no hazard in this enterprise.
'Tis better as it is.
I can but say their protestation over.
First Line of CharacterCharacter
A little more than kin and less than kind.
Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, and say there, Dromio, till I come to thee.
Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier?
Now, Master Shallow, you'll complain of me to the King?
Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster, hast thou according to thy oath and bond brought hither Henry Hereford, they bold son, here to make good the boist'rous late appeal...
So shaken as we are, so wan with care, find we a time for frightend peace to pant and breathe short-winded accents of new broils to be commenced in strands afar remote.
Stay your thanks a while, and pay them when you part.
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Attend my lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.
Imprisoned is he, say you?
Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester, the special watchmen of our English weal, I would prevail, if prayers might prevail to join your hearts in love and amity.
Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart there's no harm done.
In sooth, I know not why I am so sad.
Now say, Chatillon, what would France with us?
Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signor Leonato?

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