1099 and extends over a period of forty days. It is divided into
twenty cantos, written in ottava rima, or eight-rhymed stanzas, and,
owing to its rhythmic perfection, is still sung by Italian bards to
popular audiences.

_Canto I._ After stating exactly what task he proposes to perform in
his poem, the poet describes how the Eternal Father, sitting on His
heavenly throne, gazes down upon the plain of Tortosa, where the
Crusaders are assembled. Six years have elapsed since they set out
from Europe, during which time they have succeeded in taking Nicaea
and Antioch, cities now left in charge of influential Crusaders. But
Godfrey of Bouillon is pushing on with the bulk of the army, because
he is anxious to wrest Jerusalem from the hands of the infidels and
restore it to the worship of the true God. While he is camping on this
plain, God sends Gabriel to visit him in sleep and inspire him with a
desire to assemble a council, where, by a ringing speech, he will
rouse the Christians to immediate action.

On awakening from this vision, Godfrey loses no time in convening such
an assembly, and there eloquently urges the Christians to fight,
declaring their efforts have failed hitherto mainly because they have
lacked purpose and unity. Hearing this, Peter the Hermit suggests the
Crusaders should select one chief, whose orders they will obey, and
thereupon the warriors present unanimously elect Godfrey of Bouillon
as leader. Having secured this exalted post, Godfrey reviews his
force, thus giving the poet an occasion to enumerate the leaders of
the different corps, or armies, and explain from what countries they
come. Amongst other resounding names, the poet specially mentions
Edward and his fair bride Gildippe, who, unwilling to be parted from
her spouse, has donned a man's armor and followed him to the Crusade.
Among the bravest fighters there, he also quotes Tancred, who,
however, seems listless, and has accomplished no deed of valor since
he beheld near a fountain and fell in love with Clorinda, a fair
Amazon.

To the same warbling of fresh waters drew,
Arm'd, but unmhelm'd and unforeseen, a maid;
She was a pagan, and came thither too
To quench her thirst beneath the pleasant shade;
Her beautiful fair aspect, thus display'd,
He sees; admires; and, touch'd to transport, glows
With passion rushing to its fountain head,
The heart; 'tis strange how quick the feeling grows;
Scarce born, its power in him no