By suffering only is the part of fools. 

    To whom AEneas answer thus return’d. 

Pelides! hope not, as I were a boy,
With words to scare me.  I have also taunts 255
At my command, and could be sharp as thou. 
By such reports as from the lips of men
We oft have heard, each other’s birth we know
And parents; but my parents to behold
Was ne’er thy lot, nor have I thine beheld. 260
Thee men proclaim from noble Peleus sprung
And Thetis, bright hair’d Goddess of the Deep;
I boast myself of lovely Venus born
To brave Anchises; and his son this day
In battle slain thy sire shall mourn, or mine; 265
For I expect not that we shall depart
Like children, satisfied with words alone. 
But if it please thee more at large to learn
My lineage (thousands can attest it true)
Know this.  Jove, Sovereign of the storms, begat 270
Dardanus, and ere yet the sacred walls
Of Ilium rose, the glory of this plain,
He built Dardania; for at Ida’s foot
Dwelt our progenitors in ancient days. 
Dardanus was the father of a son, 275
King Ericthonius, wealthiest of mankind. 
Three thousand mares of his the marish grazed,
Each suckling with delight her tender foal. 
Boreas, enamor’d of no few of these,
The pasture sought, and cover’d them in form 280
Of a steed azure-maned.  They, pregnant thence,
Twelve foals produced, and all so light of foot,
That when they wanton’d in the fruitful field
They swept, and snapp’d it not, the golden ear;
And when they wanton’d on the boundless deep, 285
They skimm’d the green wave’s frothy ridge, secure. 
From Ericthonius sprang Tros, King of Troy,
And Tros was father of three famous sons,
Ilus, Assaracus, and Ganymede
Loveliest of human kind, whom for his charms 290
The Gods caught up to heaven, there to abide
With the immortals, cup-bearer of Jove. 
Ilus begat Laomedon, and he
Five sons, Tithonus, Priam, Clytius,
Lampus, and Hicetaon, branch of Mars. 295
Assaracus a son begat, by name
Capys, and Capys in due time his son
Warlike Anchises, and Anchises me. 
But Priam is the noble Hector’s sire.[6]
Such is my lineage, and such blood I boast; 300
But valor is from Jove; he, as he wills,
Increases or reduces it in man,
For he is lord of all.  Therefore enough—­
Too long like children we have stood, the time
Consuming here, while battle roars around. 305
Reproach is cheap.  Easily might we cast
Gibes at each other, till a ship that asks
A hundred oars should sink beneath the load. 
The tongue of man is voluble, hath words
For every theme, nor wants wide field and long, 310
And as he speaks so shall he hear again.