Cant. VIII.
the Faerie Queene.
113
Where liuing creature none he did espye;Then gan he lowdly through the house to call:But no man car'd to answere to his crye.There raignd a solemne silence ouer all,Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seene in bowre or hall.
At last with creeping crooked pace forth cameAn old old man, with beard as white as snow,That on a staffe his feeble steps did frame,And guyde his wearie gate both too and fro;For his eye sight him fayled long ygo,And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore,The which vnused rust did ouergrow:Those were the keyes of euery inner dore,But he could not them vse, but kept them still in store.
But very vncouth sight was to behold,How he did fashion his vntoward pace,For as he forward mooud his footing old,So backward still was turnd his wrincled face,Vnlike to men, who euer as they trace,Both feet and face one way are wont to lead.This was the auncient keeper of that place,And foster father of the Gyaunt dead;His name Ignaro did his nature right aread.
His reuerend heares and holy grauiteeThe knight much honord, as beseemed well,And gently askt, where all the people bee,Which in that stately building wont to dwell.Who answerd him full soft, he could not tell.Againe he askt, where that same knight was layd,Whom great Orgoglio with his puissaunce fellHad made his caytiue thrall; againe he sayde,He could not tell: ne euer other answere made.
Then
