unwilling, delayed sending them aid, although they were awaiting his
help. When he heard that an army of Turks had set up camp before the
city walls, he rode shrewdly to the mountains and observed the amount
the enemy had brought. When he saw the fields covered with
innumerable tents, in understandably human fashion he retreated,
judging that no mortal power could help those shut up in the city. A
man of the utmost probity, energetic, pre-eminent in his love of
truth, thinking himself unable to bring help to them, certain that
they would die, as all the evidence indicated, he decided to protect
himself, thinking that he would incur no shame by saving himself for
a opportune moment. And I certainly think that his flight (if,
however, it should be called a flight, since the count was certainly
ill), after which the dishonorable act was rectified by martyrdom,
was superior to the return of those who, persevering in their pursuit
of foul pleasure, descended into the depths of criminal behavior.
Who could claim that count Stephen and Hugh the Great, who had always
been honorable, because they had seemed to retreat for this reason,
were comparable to those who had steadfastly behaved badly? The
results of the action for which they are blamed were so splendid,
that surely one might praise them for what they did, while the
behavior of the others embarrasses all good men. Let us look
carefully at those who take pride in having been present at the
capture of Jerusalem; we shall see that none permitted himself to be
second to anyone else in committing crimes, betrayals, and perjuries.
These two, however, were known for the nobility of their previous
and subsequent behavior. The others, because they had seen Jerusalem
and the Holy Sepulchre, thought that they could safely commit any
crime, offering their own example as a reproach to holy men who had
retreated, without considering how much they themselves should be
blamed for the many stinking crimes they had committed. But laying