Hect. No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth:
I am to-day i' the vein of chivalry:
Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,[2293]
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.[2294]
Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy, 35
I'll stand to-day for thee and me and Troy.
Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
Which better fits a lion than a man.
Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it.[2295]
Tro. When many times the captive Grecian falls,[2296] 40
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,[2297]
You bid them rise and live.[2298]
Hect. O, 'tis fair play.
Tro. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
Hect. How now! how now!
Tro. For the love of all the gods,[2299]
Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother;[2300] 45
And when we have our armours buckled on,
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords,[2301]
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth![2302]
Hect. Fie, savage, fie!
Tro. Hector, then 'tis wars.[2303]