XLV
Who was this watchful warder, now you shall be told.
At hand by him lay ready a flashing shield of gold.
Twas e'en the stout King Ludegast, that watch'd his gather'd might.
Fiercely upon the monarch sprung the stranger knight.
XLVI
As fiercely too against him the fiery monarch sped;
In the flank of the war-horse each dash'd the rowels red:
The lance with all his puissance each level'd at the shield.
Ill chance befell King Ludegast in that disastrous field.
XLVII
Beneath the spur blood-dripping the steeds together flew;
Champion clos'd with champion as though a tempest blew.
Then wheel'd they round full knightly; each well the bridle sway'd
Again they met unsated, and with blade encounter'd blade.
XLVIII
Such strokes there struck Sir Siegfried, that all the field it rang;
At each, as e'en from torches, the fire-red sparkles sprang
From Ludegast's batter'd helmet. So strive they all they can
And either stormy champion in th' other finds his man.
XLIX
At Siegfried too Sir Ludegast struck many a sturdy stroke;
Each on his foeman's buckler his gather'd fury broke.
Full thirty men of Ludegast's meanwhile had spied the fray,
But, ere they up could hasten, Siegfried had won the day.