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Section 1218
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Vlis.
Oh, courage, courage Princes: great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing. vowing vengeance;
Patroclus wounds haue rouz'd his drowzie
bloud,
Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
That noselesse, handlesse, hackt and chipt, come to him;
Crying on Hector. Aiax hath lost a friend,
And foames at mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it:
Roaring for Troylus; who bath done to day,
Mad and fantasticke execution;
Engaging and redeeming of himselfe.
With such a carelesse force, and forcelesse care,
As if that luck in very spight of cunning, bad him win all.