Down from the place where man his mantle buckles. “Raphel mai amech izabi almi,” 469 Began to clamor the ferocious mouth, To which were not befitting sweeter psalms. And unto him my Guide: “Soul idiotic, Keep to thy horn, and vent thyself with that, When wrath or other passion touches thee. Search round thy neck, and thou wilt find the belt Which keeps it fastened, O bewildered soul, And see it, where it bars thy mighty breast.” Then said to me: “He doth himself accuse; This one is Nimrod, by whose evil thought 470 One language in the world is not still used. Here let us leave him and not speak in vain; For even such to him is every language As his to others, which to none is known.” Therefore a longer journey did we make, Turned to the left, and a crossbow-shot off We found another far more fierce and large. In binding him, who might the master be I cannot say; but he had pinioned close Behind the right arm, and in front the other,