Knights there were a thousand,— the press of them was strong.
Hettel’s Hegeling kinsmen, well their weapons plying,
Wounded many foemen; on every side stretched low, the men were lying.
[508]
After bravest fighting, now had reached the land
The followers of Hagen; then crowded to the sand,
After his friends so faithful, a host from Ireland’s borders.
Soon were helmets shattered: grimly they fought to win the maids from their warders.
[509]
Hagen saw then near him Hettel, the youthful knight: