1 I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.
2 I held the sword, and he did run on it.
3 Look, I draw a sword against conspirators.
4 Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart.
5 Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it.
6 Enter, from opposite sides, Casca with his sword drawn, and Cicero.
7 Here, take thou the hilts; And when my face is cover'd, as 'tis now, Guide thou the sword.'
8 Now be a freeman; and with this good sword, That ran through Caesar's bowels, search this bosom.
9 Here, as I point my sword, the Sun arises; Which is a great way growing on the South, Weighing the youthful season of the year.
10 Besides, I ha not since put up my sword, Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glared upon me, and went surly by, Without annoying me.
11 For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony; Our arms in strength of malice, and our hearts Of brothers' temper, do receive you in With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
12 I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: If I myself, there is no hour so fit As Caesar's death's hour; nor no instrument Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich With the most noble blood of all this world.