That in their hearts his words may fructify;
  By this a virtuous concord they did choose,
  And all contentions then began to die;
  The Princes with the multitude agree,
  That Godfrey ruler of those wars should be.

  XXXIII
  This power they gave him, by his princely right,
  All to command, to judge all, good and ill,
  Laws to impose to lands subdued by might,
  To maken war both when and where he will,
  To hold in due subjection every wight,
  Their valors to be guided by his skill;
  This done, Report displays her tell-tale wings,
  And to each ear the news and tidings brings.

  XXXIV
  She told the soldiers, who allowed him meet
  And well deserving of that sovereign place.
  Their first salutes and acclamations sweet
  Received he, with love and gentle grace;
  After their reverence done with kind regreet
  Requited was, with mild and cheerful face,
  He bids his armies should the following day
  On those fair plains their standards proud display.

  XXXV
  The golden sun rose from the silver wave,
  And with his beams enamelled every green,
  When up arose each warrior bold and brave,
  Glistering in filed steel and armor sheen,
  With jolly plumes their crests adorned they have,
  And all tofore their chieftain mustered been:
  He from a mountain cast his curious sight
  On every footman and on every knight.

  XXXVI
  My mind, Time's enemy, Oblivion's foe,
  Disposer true of each noteworthy thing,
  Oh, let thy virtuous might avail me so,
  That I each troop and captain great may sing,
  That in this glorious war did famous grow,
  Forgot till now by Time's evil handling:
  This work, derived from my treasures dear,
  Let all times hearken, never age outwear.

  XXXVII
  The French came foremost battailous and bold,
  Late led by Hugo, brother to their King,
  From France the isle that rivers four infold
  With rolling streams descending from their spring,
  But Hugo dead, the lily fair of gold,
  Their wonted ensign they tofore them bring,
  Under Clotharius great, a captain good,
  And hardy knight ysprong of princes' blood.

  XXXVIII
  A thousand were they in strong armors clad,
  Next whom there marched forth another band,
  That number, nature, and instruction had,
  Like them to fight far off or charge at hand,
  All valiant Normans by Lord Robert lad,
  The native Duke of that renowned land,
  Two bishops next their standards proud upbare,
  Called Reverend William, and Good Ademare.

  XXXIX
  Their jolly notes they chanted loud and clear
  On merry mornings at the mass divine,
  And horrid helms high on their heads they bear
  When their fierce courage they to war incline:
  The first four hundred horsemen gathered near
  To Orange town, and lands that it confine:
  But Ademare the Poggian youth brought out,
  In number like, in hard assays as stout.

  XL
  Baldwin, his ensign fair, did next dispread
  Among his Bulloigners of noble fame,
  His brother gave him all his troops to lead,
  When he commander of the field became;
  The Count Carinto did him straight succeed,
  Grave in advice, well skilled in Mars his game,
  Four hundred brought he, but so many thrice
  Led Baldwin, clad in gilden arms of price.

  XLI
  Guelpho next them the land and place possest,
  Whose fortunes good with his great acts agree,
  By his Italian sire, fro the house of Est,
  Well could he bring his noble pedigree,
  A German born with rich possessions blest,
  A worthy branch sprung from the Guelphian tree.
  'Twixt Rhene and Danubie the land contained
  He ruled, where Swaves and Rhetians whilom reigned.

  XLII
  His mother's heritage was this and right,
  To which he added more by conquest got,
  From thence approved men of passing might
  He brought, that death or danger feared not:
  It was their wont in feasts to spend the night,
  And pass cold days in baths and houses hot.
  Five thousand late, of which now scantly are
  The third part left, such is the chance of war.

  XLIII
  The nation then with crisped locks and fair,
  That dwell between the seas and Arden Wood,
  Where Mosel streams and Rhene the meadows wear,
  A battel soil for grain, for pasture good,
  Their islanders with them, who oft repair
  Their earthen bulwarks 'gainst the ocean flood,
  The flood, elsewhere that ships and barks devours,
  But there drowns cities, countries, towns and towers;

  XLIV
  Both in one troop, and but a thousand all,
  Under another Robert fierce they run.
  Then the English squadron, soldiers stout and tall,
  By William led, their sovereign's younger son,
  These archers be, and with them come withal,
  A people near the Northern Pole that wone,
  Whom Ireland sent from loughs and forests hoar,
  Divided far by sea from Europe's shore.

  XLV
  Tancredi next, nor 'mongst them all was one,
  Rinald except, a prince of greater might,
  With majesty his noble countenance shone,
  High were his thoughts, his heart was bold in fight,
  No shameful vice his worth had overgone,
  His fault was love, by unadvised sight,
  Bred in the dangers of adventurous arms,
  And nursed with griefs, with sorrows, woes, and harms.

  XLVI
  Fame tells, that on that ever-blessed day,
  When Christian swords with Persian blood were dyed,
  The furious Prince Tancredi from that fray
  His coward foes chased through forests wide,
  Till tired with the fight, the heat, the way,
  He sought some place to rest his wearied side,
  And drew him near a silver stream that played
  Among wild herbs under the greenwood shade.

  XLVII
  A Pagan damsel there unwares he met,
  In shining steel, all save her visage fair,
  Her hair unbound she made a wanton net,
  To catch sweet breathing from the cooling air.
  On her at gaze his longing looks he set,
  Sight, wonder; wonder, love; love bred his care;
  O love, o wonder; love new born, new bred,
  Now groan, now armed, this champion captive led.

  XLVIII
  Her helm the virgin donned, and but some wight
  She feared might come to aid him as they fought,
  Her courage earned to have assailed the knight;
  Yet thence she fled, uncompanied, unsought,
  And left her image in his heart ypight;
  Her sweet idea wandered through his thought,
  Her shape, her gesture, and her place in mind
  He kept, and blew love's fire with that wind.

  XLIX
  Well might you read his sickness in his eyes,
  Their banks were full, their tide was at the flow,
  His help far off, his hurt within him lies,
  His hopes unstrung, his cares were fit to mow;
  Eight hundred horse (from Champain came) he guies,
  Champain a land where wealth, ease, pleasure, grow,
  Rich