So inconsistent is human nature with itself! and so
easily does the most effeminate superstition ally, both with the most
heroic courage and with the fiercest barbarity!
This great event happened on the fifth of July in the last year of
the eleventh century. The Christian princes and nobles, after choosing
Godfrey of Bouillon king of Jerusalem, began to settle themselves in
their new conquests; while some of them returned to Europe, in order
to enjoy at home that glory which their valor had acquired them in this
popular and meritorious enterprise. Among these was Robert, duke of
Normandy, who, as he had relinquished the greatest dominions of any
prince that attended the crusade, had all along distinguished himself
by the most intrepid courage, as well as by that affable disposition and
unbounded generosity which gain the hearts of soldiers, and qualify a
prince to shine in a military life. In passing through Italy, he became
acquainted with Sibylla, daughter of the count of Conversana, a young
lady of great beauty and merit, whom he espoused: indulging himself in
this new passion, as well as fond of enjoying ease and pleasure after
the fatigues of so many rough campaigns, he lingered a twelvemonth in
that delicious climate; and though his friends in the north looked every
moment for his arrival, none of them knew when they could with certainty
expect it.
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