This is a line from the protagonist Timon in Shakespeare's "Timon of Athens"

In Act 4, Scene 3.

The original sentence is this:

Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods,

I am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens!

Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair,

Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant.

Gold! Yellow, shiny, precious gold! No, gods, I am not an idle believer; I only want you to give me some roots!

This thing, just a little bit, can turn black into white, ugly into beautiful, wrong into right, and humble into noble. , the old man becomes a young man, the coward becomes a warrior.

You can read the full line of dialogue here:

/novels/shaweng/yddtm/yddtm04.html