Of Midas, which his greedy wish ensued,
Mark’d for derision to all future times: 
And the fond Achan, how he stole the prey,
That yet he seems by Joshua’s ire pursued. 
Sapphira with her husband next, we blame;
And praise the forefeet, that with furious ramp
Spurn’d Heliodorus.  All the mountain round
Rings with the infamy of Thracia’s king,
Who slew his Phrygian charge:  and last a shout
Ascends:  “Declare, O Crassus! for thou know’st,
The flavour of thy gold.”  The voice of each
Now high now low, as each his impulse prompts,
Is led through many a pitch, acute or grave. 
Therefore, not singly, I erewhile rehears’d
That blessedness we tell of in the day: 
But near me none beside his accent rais’d.” 
     From him we now had parted, and essay’d
With utmost efforts to surmount the way,
When I did feel, as nodding to its fall,
The mountain tremble; whence an icy chill
Seiz’d on me, as on one to death convey’d. 
So shook not Delos, when Latona there
Couch’d to bring forth the twin-born eyes of heaven. 
     Forthwith from every side a shout arose
So vehement, that suddenly my guide
Drew near, and cried:  “Doubt not, while I conduct thee.” 
“Glory!” all shouted (such the sounds mine ear
Gather’d from those, who near me swell’d the sounds)
“Glory in the highest be to God.”  We stood
Immovably suspended, like to those,
The shepherds, who first heard in Bethlehem’s field
That song:  till ceas’d the trembling, and the song
Was ended:  then our hallow’d path resum’d,
Eying the prostrate shadows, who renew’d
Their custom’d mourning.  Never in my breast
Did ignorance so struggle with desire
Of knowledge, if my memory do not err,
As in that moment; nor through haste dar’d I
To question, nor myself could aught discern,
So on I far’d in thoughtfulness and dread.

CANTO XXI

The natural thirst, ne’er quench’d but from the well,
Whereof the woman of Samaria crav’d,
Excited:  haste along the cumber’d path,
After my guide, impell’d; and pity mov’d
My bosom for the ’vengeful deed, though just. 
When lo! even as Luke relates, that Christ
Appear’d unto the two upon their way,
New-risen from his vaulted grave; to us
A shade appear’d, and after us approach’d,
Contemplating the crowd beneath its feet. 
We were not ware of it; so first it spake,
Saying, “God give you peace, my brethren!” then
Sudden we turn’d:  and Virgil such salute,
As fitted that kind greeting, gave, and cried: 
“Peace in the blessed council be thy lot
Awarded by that righteous court, which me
To everlasting banishment exiles!”
     “How!” he exclaim’d, nor from his speed meanwhile
Desisting, “If that ye be spirits, whom God
Vouchsafes not room above, who up the height
Has been thus far your guide?” To whom the