The third chapter introduces us to a richly furnished drawing room, where the Princess Anna Commena—the first lady historian—sits reading to a sleepy group her prolix history of the glory of her father’s reign. At this gathering Scott brings together with great art all the leading actors of the drama; the Emperor Alexius and his wife Irene; Nicepherous Briennius, the intriguing son-in-law, husband of the fair historian; the crafty philosopher Agelastes; Achilles Tatius, master of the guards, and the faithful Verangian. This is the real commencement of the story, and to this gathering the news is announced of another body of the great Crusade, consisting not of the ignorant or of the fanatical like those led on by Peter the Hermit, but an army of lords and nobles marshaled by kings and emperors. Against this mass of steel-clad warriors the East had no power to oppose save the inherent cunning and strategy of Commenus. Craft and wealth meet stupidity and avarice. The more powerful chiefs of the Crusades are loaded with presents, feasted by the emperor with the richest delicacies, and their thirst slaked with iced wine; while their followers are left at a distance in malarial districts, and intentionally supplied with adulterated flour, tainted provisions, and bad water. Neglected by friends and insulted by foes, they contracted diseases and died in great numbers “without having once seen a foot of the Holy Land, for the recovery of which they had abandoned their peace, their competence, and their native country. Their misfortunes were imputed to their own wilfulness, and their sickness to the vehemence of their own appetites for raw fruits and unripened wines.” By promises of wealth and long-practiced arts of diplomacy, the Emperor Commenus at last even induces the leaders of the crusade individually to acknowledge him—the Grecian Emperor—originally lord paramount of all these regions, as their liege lord and suzerain.