VII. It chanced the King, that fair morning, to the chace had made him bowne, With many a knight of warlike might, and prince of high renown; Sir Reynold of Montalban, and Claros' Lord, Gaston, Behind him rode, and Bertram good, that reverend old Baron. VIII. Black D'Ardennes' eye of mastery in that proud troop was seen, And there was Urgel's giant force, and Guarinos' princely mien; Gallant and gay upon that day was Baldwin's youthful cheer, But first did ride, by Charles's side, Roland and Olivier. IX. Now in a ring around the King, not far in the greenwood, Awaiting all the huntsman's call, it chanced the nobles stood; "Now list, mine earls, now list!" quoth Charles, "yon breeze will come again, Some trumpet-note methinks doth float from the bonny banks of Seine."-- X. He scarce had heard the trumpet, the word he scarce had said, When among the trees he near him sees a dark and turbaned head; "Now stand, now stand at my command, bold Moor," quoth Charlemagne, "That turban green, how dare it be seen among the woods of Seine."-- XI. "My turban green must needs be seen among the woods of Seine," The Moor replied, "since here I ride in quest of Charlemagne-- For I serve the Moor Calaynos, and I his defiance bring To every lord that sits at the board of Charlemagne your King. XII. "Now lordlings fair, if anywhere in the wood ye've seen him riding, O tell me plain the path he has ta'en--there is no cause for chiding; For my lord hath blown his trumpet by every gate of Paris-- Long hours in vain, by the bank of Seine, upon his steed he tarries."-- XIII. When the Emperor had heard the Moor, full red was his old cheek, "Go back, base cur, upon the spur, for I am he you seek-- Go back, and tell your master to commend him to Mahoun, For his soul shall dwell with him in hell, or ere yon sun go down. XIV. "Mine arm is weak, my hairs are grey," (thus spake King Charlemagne,) "Would for one hour I had the power of my young days again, As when I plucked the Saxon from out his mountain den-- O soon should cease the vaunting of this proud Saracen! XV. "Though now mine arm be weakened, though now my hairs be grey, The hard-won praise of other days cannot be swept away-- If shame there be, my liegemen, that shame on you must lie-- Go forth, go forth, good Roland; to-night this Moor must die."-- XVI. Then out and spake rough Roland--"Ofttimes I've thinned the ranks Of the hot Moor, and when all was o'er have won me little thanks; Some carpet knight will take delight to do this doughty feat, Whom damsels gay shall well repay with their smiles and whispers sweet!"-- XVII. Then out and spake Sir Baldwin--the youngest peer was he, The youngest and the comeliest--"Let none go forth but me; Sir Roland is mine uncle, and he may in safety jeer, But I will show the youngest may be Sir Roland's peer."--