"Troy's founder, Dardanus, to the Teucrians came, Child of Electra, so the Greeks declare.
Huge Atlas was Electra's sire, the same Whose shoulders still the starry skies upbear.
Your sire is Mercury, whom Maia fair On chill Cyllene's summit bore of old; And Maia's sire, if aught of truth we hear, Was Atlas, he who doth the spheres uphold.
Thus from a single stock the double stems unfold.
XX.

"Trusting to this, no embassy I sent, No arts employed, thy purpose to explore.
Myself, my proper person, I present, And stand a humble suppliant at thy door.
Thy foes are ours, the Daunian race, and sore They grind us.

If they drive us hence, they say, Their conquering arms shall stretch from shore to shore.
Plight we our troth; strong arms are ours to-day, Stout hearts, and manhood proved in many a hard essay." XXI.

He ceased.

Long while Evander marked with joy His face and eyes, and scanned through and through, Then spake: "O bravest of the sons of Troy! What joy to greet thee; thine the voice, the hue, The face of great Anchises, whom I knew.
Well I remember, how, in days forepast, Old Priam came to Salamis, to view His sister's realms, Hesione's, and passed To far Arcadia, chilled with many a Northern blast.
XXII.