So when the day came he went down into the city, and entered for the lists with the flower of the land, and all the folk marvelled who he might be. For he was tall and exceeding fair, and they had never seen his face before. When the turn came for his match, he set his teeth and wrestled like a young lion, for the bull that was the pride of his flock; and the strength of his adversaries was turned to weakness. With joy in his heart, he came forward to take his prize; and a loud cheer rose to heaven, for the people were glad that he had won. And the king's heart went out to him as he gave the prize, for he was the age his son would have been had he lived.
"Young man," he said, "who art thou, and who is thy father?"
"I am Paris, the foster-son of Agelaus the herdsman," he answered.
"Is thine own sire dead, then?" asked Priam.
"O king, thou askest me riddles I cannot answer," said Paris, "seeing I know not even who mine own sire may be."
"This is a strange matter," said the king, and in spite of himself his heart beat fast within him.
Now Cassandra the prophetess, his daughter, was standing by his side, and the time had come for her to speak.
"O king," she said, "thou hast not far to seek for the father of this lad."
"What meanest thou?" said Priam.