If I had rhymes both rough and stridulous, 478 As were appropriate to the dismal hole Down upon which thrust all the other rocks, 479 I would press out the juice of my conception More fully; but because I have them not, Not without fear I bring myself to speak; For ’tis no enterprise to take in jest, To sketch the bottom of all the universe, Nor for a tongue that cries Mamma and Babbo. 480 But may those Ladies help this verse of mine, Who helped Amphion in enclosing Thebes, 481 That from the fact the word be not diverse. O rabble ill-begotten above all, Who’re in the place to speak of which is hard, ’Twere better ye had here been sheep or goats! 482 When we were down within the darksome well, Beneath the giant’s feet, but lower far, And I was scanning still the lofty wall, I heard it said to me: “Look how thou steppest!