On four gates of the castle the bolts were backward thrown:
Ne’er had they been opened to a single spur alone.
Then with the youthful Hartmut, outgoing at his bidding,
All with helmets fastened, went thirty hundred followers boldly riding.
[1392]
The hour of strife drew nearer. He of the Sturmisch land,
Wâ-te, his horn was blowing; and loud across the sand,
For thirty miles or over, men the blast were hearing;
The fighters of the Hegelings, to flock to Hilda’s flag, their arms were wearing.
[1393]