Many had begun to think of offering the crown to Robert himself. But this was not his wish; and among the rest their choice clearly lay between Godfrey, Robert of Normandy, Raymond of Toulouse, and Tancred. Of these, Tancred and Robert were men ambitious of glory rather than of honours. The latter had thrown away the crown of England once, and was going to throw it away again. With equal readiness he threw away the crown of Jerusalem. Raymond, who had sworn never to return to Europe, was old and unpopular, probably from the absence of the princely munificence and affability that distinguished Godfrey, perhaps also from lack of those personal charms which his rival possessed. To be handsome as well as brave was given to Godfrey, but if it had ever been given to Raymond, his day of comeliness was past. A sort of committee of ten was appointed, whose business it was to examine closely into the private character of the chiefs, as well as into their prowess. History is prudently silent as to the reports made on the characters of the rest, but we know what was said about Godfrey. Though the Provençal party invented calumnies against him, his own servants were explicit and clear in their evidence. Nothing whatever could be set down against him. Pure and unsullied in his private life, he came out of this ordeal with no other accusation against him, by those who were with him at all hours of the day and night, but one, and that the most singular complaint ever brought against a prince by his servants. They stated that in all the private acts of the duke, the one which they found most vexatious (_absonum_) was that when he went into a church he could not be got out of it, even after the celebration of service; but he was used to stay behind and inquire of the priests and those who seemed to have any knowledge of the matter, about the meaning and history of each picture and image: his companions, being otherwise minded, were affected with continual tedium and even disgust at this conduct, which was certainly thoughtless, because the meals, cooked, of course, in readiness for a certain hour, were often, owing to this exasperating delay, served up cold and tasteless. There is a touch of humour in the grave way in which this charge is brought forward by the historian, who evidently enjoys the picture of Godfrey’s followers standing by and waiting, while their faces grow longer as they think of the roast, which is certain to be either cold or overdone.