White-plumed, white-horsed, with golden shield and halo, I contrived to appear
On the horizon, waved my sword while Adhémar proclaimed Saint George.
Our men responded with a shout. Through the five gates they tumbled out,
An headlong torrent. In a trice the infidel was put to rout,
And I joined in to hack and prod. Pure Tancred praised me with a nod.
Ascetic Godfrey even spoke to me: "Lad, you belong to God."
I won my spurs. They made me proud. Before my sword the wizards bowed,
Though me they washed. In vigil and fast I joined the perfect order, vowed
To hold my manhood chaste, to gird on might with right and courtesy,
To speak the truth, and so to be at variance with the common herd.