Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you

Troilus
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you
Which better fits a lion than a man.
Hector
What vice is that? Good Troilus, chide me for it.
Troilus
When many times the captive Grecian falls,
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise and live.
Hector
O, 'tis fair play.
Troilus
Fool's play, by heaven. Hector.
Hector
How now? How now?
Troilus
For th' love of all the gods,
Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mother,
And when we have our armors buckled on,
The venomed Vengeance ride upon our swords,
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.
Hector
Fie, savage, fie!
Troilus
Hector, then 'tis wars.