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Here is my stately home; my fountain-head is among high cities. '

Thus spoke the River, and sank in the depth of the pool: night and sleep
left Aeneas. He arises, and, looking towards the radiant sky of the
sunrising, holds up water from the river in fitly-hollowed palms, and
pours to heaven these accents:

'Nymphs, Laurentine Nymphs, from whom is the generation of rivers, and
thou, O father Tiber, with thine holy flood, receive Aeneas and deign to
save him out of danger. What pool soever holds thy source, who pitiest
our discomforts, from whatsoever soil thou dost spring excellent in
beauty, ever shall my worship, ever my gifts frequent thee, the horned
river lord of Hesperian waters. Ah, be thou only by me, and graciously
confirm thy will. ' So speaks he, and chooses two galleys from his fleet,
and mans them with rowers, and withal equips a crew with arms.

And lo! suddenly, ominous and wonderful to tell, the milk-white sow, of
one colour with her white brood, is espied through the forest couched on
the green brink; whom to thee, yes to thee, queenly Juno, good Aeneas
offers in sacrifice, and sets with her offspring before thine altar. All
that night long Tiber assuaged his swelling stream, and silently stayed
his refluent wave, smoothing the surface of his waters to the fashion of
still pool and quiet mere, to spare [90-121]labour to the oar. So they
set out and speed on their way with prosperous cries; the painted fir
slides along the waterway; the waves and unwonted woods marvel at their
far-gleaming shields, and the gay hulls afloat on the river. They
outwear a night and a day in rowing, ascend the long reaches, and pass
under the chequered shadows of the trees, and cut through the green
woodland in the calm water. The fiery sun had climbed midway in the
circle of the sky when they see afar fortress walls and scattered house
roofs, where now the might of Rome hath risen high as heaven; then
Evander held a slender state. Quickly they turn their prows to land and
draw near the town.

It chanced on that day the Arcadian king paid his accustomed sacrifice
to the great son of Amphitryon and all the gods in a grove before the
city. With him his son Pallas, with him all the chief of his people and
his poor senate were offering incense, and the blood steamed warm at
their altars.
When they saw the high ships, saw them glide up between
the shady woodlands and rest on their silent oars, the sudden sight
appals them, and all at once they rise and stop the banquet. Pallas
courageously forbids them to break off the rites; snatching up a spear,
he flies forward, and from a hillock cries afar: 'O men, what cause hath
driven you to explore these unknown ways? or whither do you steer? What
is your kin, whence your habitation? Is it peace or arms you carry
hither? ' Then from the lofty stern lord Aeneas thus speaks, stretching
forth in his hand an olive bough of peace-bearing:

'Thou seest men born of Troy and arms hostile to the Latins, who have
driven us to flight in insolent warfare. We seek Evander; carry this
message, and tell him that chosen men of the Dardanian captains are come
pleading for an armed alliance. '

Pallas stood amazed at the august name. 'Descend,' [122-154]he cries,
'whoso thou art, and speak with my father face to face, and enter our
home and hospitality. ' And giving him the grasp of welcome, he caught
and clung to his hand. Advancing, they enter the grove and leave the
river. Then Aeneas in courteous words addresses the King:

'Best of the Grecian race, thou whom fortune hath willed that I
supplicate, holding before me boughs dressed in fillets, no fear stayed
me because thou wert a Grecian chief and an Arcadian, or allied by
descent to the twin sons of Atreus. Nay, mine own prowess and the
sanctity of divine oracles, our ancestral kinship, and the fame of thee
that is spread abroad over the earth, have allied me to thee and led me
willingly on the path of fate. Dardanus, who sailed to the Teucrian
land, the first father and founder of the Ilian city, was born, as
Greeks relate, of Electra the Atlantid; Electra's sire is ancient Atlas,
whose shoulder sustains the heavenly spheres. Your father is Mercury,
whom white Maia conceived and bore on the cold summit of Cyllene; but
Maia, if we give any credence to report, is daughter of Atlas, that same
Atlas who bears up the starry heavens; so both our families branch from
a single blood. In this confidence I sent no embassy, I framed no crafty
overtures; myself I have presented mine own person, and come a suppliant
to thy courts.