But by this full nigh were his war-band, the knights that from far had seen
Betwixt these two fore-scouters what deadly strife had been.
Then Siegfried would lead the vanquished away; but they fell forthright
Upon him, those thirty warriors, yet his hand by its single might
Aye guarded his princely captive with strokes that fell like hail;
And soon to that king’s defenders had he dealt yet deadlier bale.
For he smote, that captive-warder, the thirty, till dead they lay,
Save one that turned his horse-rein, and swiftly fled away,
And bare the bitter tidings of all to the host of the Danes,
And his shattered helmet witnessed thereto with its bloody stains.