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Iliad (Pope Translation)

<h2>BOOK II.</h2> ARGUMENT. THE TRIAL OF THE ARMY, AND CATALOGUE OF THE FORCES. Jupiter, in pursuance of the request of Thetis, sends a deceitful vision to Agamemnon, persuading him to lead the army to battle, in order to make the Greeks sensible of their want of Achilles. The general, who is deluded with the hopes of taking Troy without his assistance, but fears the army was discouraged by his absence, and the late plague, as well as by the length of time, contrives to make trial of their disposition by a stratagem. He first communicates his design to the princes in council, that he would propose a return to the soldiers, and that they should put a stop to them if the proposal was embraced. Then he assembles the whole host, and upon moving for a return to Greece, they unanimously agree to it, and run to prepare the ships. They are detained by the management of Ulysses, who chastises the insolence of Thersites. The assembly is recalled, several speeches made on the occasion, and at length the advice of Nestor followed, which was to make a general muster of the troops, and to divide them into their several nations, before they proceeded to battle. This gives occasion to the poet to enumerate all the forces of the Greeks and Trojans, and in a large catalogue. The time employed in this book consists not entirely of one day. The scene lies in the Grecian camp, and upon the sea-shore; towards the end it removes to Troy. Now pleasing sleep had seal’d each mortal eye, Stretch’d in the tents the Grecian leaders lie: The immortals slumber’d on their thrones above; All, but the ever-wakeful eyes of Jove.[76] To honour Thetis’ son he bends his care, And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war: Then bids an empty phantom rise to sight, And thus commands the vision of the night. “Fly hence, deluding Dream! and light as air,[77] To Agamemnon’s ample tent repair. Bid him in arms draw forth the embattled train, Lead all his Grecians to the dusty plain. Declare, e’en now ’tis given him to destroy The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy. For now no more the gods with fate contend, At Juno’s suit the heavenly factions end. Destruction hangs o’er yon devoted wall, And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall.” Swift as the word the vain illusion fled, Descends, and hovers o’er Atrides’ head; Clothed in the figure of the Pylian sage, Renown’d for wisdom, and revered for age: Around his temples spreads his golden wing, And thus the flattering dream deceives the king. <div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/image10.png" width-obs="700" height-obs="495" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> JUPITER SENDING THE EVIL DREAM TO AGAMEMNON </div> “Canst thou, with all a monarch’s cares oppress’d, O Atreus’ son! canst thou indulge thy rest?[78] Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides, Directs in council, and in war presides, To whom its safety a whole people owes, To waste long nights in indolent repose.[79] Monarch, awake! ’tis Jove’s command I bear; Thou, and thy glory, claim his heavenly care. In just array draw forth the embattled train, Lead all thy Grecians to the dusty plain; E’en now, O king! ’tis given thee to destroy The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy. For now no more the gods with fate contend, At Juno’s suit the heavenly factions end. Destruction hangs o’er yon devoted wall, And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall. Awake, but waking this advice approve, And trust the vision that descends from Jove.” The phantom said; then vanish’d from his sight, Resolves to air, and mixes with the night. A thousand schemes the monarch’s mind employ; Elate in thought he sacks untaken Troy: Vain as he was, and to the future blind, Nor saw what Jove and secret fate design’d, What mighty toils to either host remain, What scenes of grief, and numbers of the slain! Eager he rises, and in fancy hears The voice celestial murmuring in his ears. First on his limbs a slender vest he drew, Around him next the regal mantle threw, The embroider’d sandals on his feet were tied; The starry falchion glitter’d at his side; And last, his arm the massy sceptre loads, Unstain’d, immortal, and the gift of gods. Now rosy Morn ascends the court of Jove, Lifts up her light, and opens day above. The king despatch’d his heralds with commands To range the camp and summon all the bands: The gathering hosts the monarch’s word obey; While to the fleet Atrides bends his way. In his black ship the Pylian prince he found; There calls a senate of the peers around: The assembly placed, the king of men express’d The counsels labouring in his artful breast. “Friends and confederates! with attentive ear Receive my words, and credit what you hear. Late as I slumber’d in the shades of night, A dream divine appear’d before my sight; Whose visionary form like Nestor came, The same in habit, and in mien the same.[80] The heavenly phantom hover’d o’er my head, ‘And, dost thou sleep, O Atreus’ son? (he said) Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides, Directs in council, and in war presides; To whom its safety a whole people owes, To waste long nights in indolent repose. Monarch, awake! ’tis Jove’s command I bear, Thou and thy glory claim his heavenly care. In just array draw forth the embattled train, And lead the Grecians to the dusty plain; E’en now, O king! ’tis given thee to destroy The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy. For now no more the gods with fate contend, At Juno’s suit the heavenly factions end. Destruction hangs o’er yon devoted wall, And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall. This hear observant, and the gods obey!’ The vision spoke, and pass’d in air away. Now, valiant chiefs! since heaven itself alarms, Unite, and rouse the sons of Greece to arms. But first, with caution, try what yet they dare, Worn with nine years of unsuccessful war. To move the troops to measure back the main, Be mine; and yours the province to detain.” He spoke, and sat: when Nestor, rising said, (Nestor, whom Pylos’ sandy realms obey’d,) “Princes of Greece, your faithful ears incline, Nor doubt the vision of the powers divine; Sent by great Jove to him who rules the host, Forbid it, heaven! this warning should be lost! Then let us haste, obey the god’s alarms, And join to rouse the sons of Greece to arms.” Thus spoke the sage: the kings without delay Dissolve the council, and their chief obey: The sceptred rulers lead; the following host, Pour’d forth by thousands, darkens all the coast. As from some rocky cleft the shepherd sees Clustering in heaps on heaps the driving bees, Rolling and blackening, swarms succeeding swarms, With deeper murmurs and more hoarse alarms; Dusky they spread, a close embodied crowd, And o’er the vale descends the living cloud.[81] So, from the tents and ships, a lengthen’d train Spreads all the beach, and wide o’ershades the plain: Along the region runs a deafening sound; Beneath their footsteps groans the trembling ground. Fame flies before the messenger of Jove, And shining soars, and claps her wings above. Nine sacred heralds now, proclaiming loud[82] The monarch’s will, suspend the listening crowd. Soon as the throngs in order ranged appear, And fainter murmurs died upon the ear, The king of kings his awful figure raised: High in his hand the golden sceptre blazed; The golden sceptre, of celestial flame, By Vulcan form’d, from Jove to Hermes came. To Pelops he the immortal gift resign’d; The immortal gift great Pelops left behind, In Atreus’ hand, which not with Atreus ends, To rich Thyestes next the prize descends; And now the mark of Agamemnon’s reign, Subjects all Argos, and controls the main.[83] On this bright sceptre now the king reclined, And artful thus pronounced the speech design’d: “Ye sons of Mars, partake your leader’s care, Heroes of Greece, and brothers of the war! Of partial Jove with justice I complain, And heavenly oracles believed in vain A safe return was promised to our toils, Renown’d, triumphant, and enrich’d with spoils. Now shameful flight alone can save the host, Our blood, our treasure, and our glory lost. So Jove decrees, resistless lord of all! At whose command whole empires rise or fall: He shakes the feeble props of human trust, And towns and armies humbles to the dust. What shame to Greece a fruitful war to wage, Oh, lasting shame in every future age! Once great in arms, the common scorn we grow, Repulsed and baffled by a feeble foe. So small their number, that if wars were ceased, And Greece triumphant held a general feast, All rank’d by tens, whole decades when they dine Must want a Trojan slave to pour the wine.[84] But other forces have our hopes o’erthrown, And Troy prevails by armies not her own. Now nine long years of mighty Jove are run, Since first the labours of this war begun: Our cordage torn, decay’d our vessels lie, And scarce insure the wretched power to fly. Haste, then, for ever leave the Trojan wall! Our weeping wives, our tender children call: Love, duty, safety, summon us away, ’Tis nature’s voice, and nature we obey. Our shatter’d barks may yet transport us o’er, Safe and inglorious, to our native shore. Fly, Grecians, fly, your sails and oars employ, And dream no more of heaven-defended Troy.” His deep design unknown, the hosts approve Atrides’ speech. The mighty numbers move. So roll the billows to the Icarian shore, From east and south when winds begin to roar, Burst their dark mansions in the clouds, and sweep The whitening surface of the ruffled deep. And as on corn when western gusts descend,[85] Before the blast the lofty harvests bend: Thus o’er the field the moving host appears, With nodding plumes and groves of waving spears. The gathering murmur spreads, their trampling feet Beat the loose sands, and thicken to the fleet; With long-resounding cries they urge the train To fit the ships, and launch into the main. They toil, they sweat, thick clouds of dust arise, The doubling clamours echo to the skies. E’en then the Greeks had left the hostile plain, And fate decreed the fall of Troy in vain; But Jove’s imperial queen their flight survey’d, And sighing thus bespoke the blue-eyed maid: “Shall then the Grecians fly! O dire disgrace! And leave unpunish’d this perfidious race? Shall Troy, shall Priam, and the adulterous spouse, In peace enjoy the fruits of broken vows? And bravest chiefs, in Helen’s quarrel slain, Lie unrevenged on yon detested plain? No: let my Greeks, unmoved by vain alarms, Once more refulgent shine in brazen arms. Haste, goddess, haste! the flying host detain, Nor let one sail be hoisted on the main.” Pallas obeys, and from Olympus’ height Swift to the ships precipitates her flight. Ulysses, first in public cares, she found, For prudent counsel like the gods renown’d: Oppress’d with generous grief the hero stood, Nor drew his sable vessels to the flood. “And is it thus, divine Laertes’ son, Thus fly the Greeks (the martial maid begun), Thus to their country bear their own disgrace, And fame eternal leave to Priam’s race? Shall beauteous Helen still remain unfreed, Still unrevenged, a thousand heroes bleed! Haste, generous Ithacus! prevent the shame, Recall your armies, and your chiefs reclaim. Your own resistless eloquence employ, And to the immortals trust the fall of Troy.” The voice divine confess’d the warlike maid, Ulysses heard, nor uninspired obey’d: Then meeting first Atrides, from his hand Received the imperial sceptre of command. Thus graced, attention and respect to gain, He runs, he flies through all the Grecian train; Each prince of name, or chief in arms approved, He fired with praise, or with persuasion moved. “Warriors like you, with strength and wisdom bless’d, By brave examples should confirm the rest. The monarch’s will not yet reveal’d appears; He tries our courage, but resents our fears. The unwary Greeks his fury may provoke; Not thus the king in secret council spoke. Jove loves our chief, from Jove his honour springs, Beware! for dreadful is the wrath of kings.” But if a clamorous vile plebeian rose, Him with reproof he check’d or tamed with blows. “Be still, thou slave, and to thy betters yield; Unknown alike in council and in field! Ye gods, what dastards would our host command! Swept to the war, the lumber of a land. Be silent, wretch, and think not here allow’d That worst of tyrants, an usurping crowd. To one sole monarch Jove commits the sway; His are the laws, and him let all obey.”[86] With words like these the troops Ulysses ruled, The loudest silenced, and the fiercest cool’d. Back to the assembly roll the thronging train, Desert the ships, and pour upon the plain. Murmuring they move, as when old ocean roars, And heaves huge surges to the trembling shores; The groaning banks are burst with bellowing sound, The rocks remurmur and the deeps rebound. At length the tumult sinks, the noises cease, And a still silence lulls the camp to peace. Thersites only clamour’d in the throng, Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue: Awed by no shame, by no respect controll’d, In scandal busy, in reproaches bold: With witty malice studious to defame, Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim:— But chief he gloried with licentious style To lash the great, and monarchs to revile. His figure such as might his soul proclaim; One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame: His mountain shoulders half his breast o’erspread, Thin hairs bestrew’d his long misshapen head. Spleen to mankind his envious heart possess’d, And much he hated all, but most the best: Ulysses or Achilles still his theme; But royal scandal his delight supreme, Long had he lived the scorn of every Greek, Vex’d when he spoke, yet still they heard him speak. Sharp was his voice; which in the shrillest tone, Thus with injurious taunts attack’d the throne. “Amidst the glories of so bright a reign, What moves the great Atrides to complain? ’Tis thine whate’er the warrior’s breast inflames, The golden spoil, and thine the lovely dames. With all the wealth our wars and blood bestow, Thy tents are crowded and thy chests o’erflow. Thus at full ease in heaps of riches roll’d, What grieves the monarch? Is it thirst of gold? Say, shall we march with our unconquer’d powers (The Greeks and I) to Ilion’s hostile towers, And bring the race of royal bastards here, For Troy to ransom at a price too dear? But safer plunder thy own host supplies; Say, wouldst thou seize some valiant leader’s prize? Or, if thy heart to generous love be led, Some captive fair, to bless thy kingly bed? Whate’er our master craves submit we must, Plagued with his pride, or punish’d for his lust. Oh women of Achaia; men no more! Hence let us fly, and let him waste his store In loves and pleasures on the Phrygian shore. We may be wanted on some busy day, When Hector comes: so great Achilles may: From him he forced the prize we jointly gave, From him, the fierce, the fearless, and the brave: And durst he, as he ought, resent that wrong, This mighty tyrant were no tyrant long.” Fierce from his seat at this Ulysses springs,[87] In generous vengeance of the king of kings. With indignation sparkling in his eyes, He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies: “Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state, With wrangling talents form’d for foul debate: Curb that impetuous tongue, nor rashly vain, And singly mad, asperse the sovereign reign. Have we not known thee, slave! of all our host, The man who acts the least, upbraids the most? Think not the Greeks to shameful flight to bring, Nor let those lips profane the name of king. For our return we trust the heavenly powers; Be that their care; to fight like men be ours. But grant the host with wealth the general load, Except detraction, what hast thou bestow’d? Suppose some hero should his spoils resign, Art thou that hero, could those spoils be thine? Gods! let me perish on this hateful shore, And let these eyes behold my son no more; If, on thy next offence, this hand forbear To strip those arms thou ill deserv’st to wear, Expel the council where our princes meet, And send thee scourged and howling through the fleet.” He said, and cowering as the dastard bends, The weighty sceptre on his back descends.[88] On the round bunch the bloody tumours rise: The tears spring starting from his haggard eyes; Trembling he sat, and shrunk in abject fears, From his vile visage wiped the scalding tears; While to his neighbour each express’d his thought: “Ye gods! what wonders has Ulysses wrought! What fruits his conduct and his courage yield! Great in the council, glorious in the field. Generous he rises in the crown’s defence, To curb the factious tongue of insolence, Such just examples on offenders shown, Sedition silence, and assert the throne.” ’Twas thus the general voice the hero praised, Who, rising, high the imperial sceptre raised: The blue-eyed Pallas, his celestial friend, (In form a herald,) bade the crowds attend. The expecting crowds in still attention hung, To hear the wisdom of his heavenly tongue. Then deeply thoughtful, pausing ere he spoke, His silence thus the prudent hero broke: “Unhappy monarch! whom the Grecian race With shame deserting, heap with vile disgrace. Not such at Argos was their generous vow: Once all their voice, but ah! forgotten now: Ne’er to return, was then the common cry, Till Troy’s proud structures should in ashes lie. Behold them weeping for their native shore; What could their wives or helpless children more? What heart but melts to leave the tender train, And, one short month, endure the wintry main? Few leagues removed, we wish our peaceful seat, When the ship tosses, and the tempests beat: Then well may this long stay provoke their tears, The tedious length of nine revolving years. Not for their grief the Grecian host I blame; But vanquish’d! baffled! oh, eternal shame! Expect the time to Troy’s destruction given. And try the faith of Chalcas and of heaven. What pass’d at Aulis, Greece can witness bear,[89] And all who live to breathe this Phrygian air. Beside a fountain’s sacred brink we raised Our verdant altars, and the victims blazed: ’Twas where the plane-tree spread its shades around, The altars heaved; and from the crumbling ground A mighty dragon shot, of dire portent; From Jove himself the dreadful sign was sent. Straight to the tree his sanguine spires he roll’d, And curl’d around in many a winding fold; The topmost branch a mother-bird possess’d; Eight callow infants fill’d the mossy nest; Herself the ninth; the serpent, as he hung, Stretch’d his black jaws and crush’d the crying young; While hovering near, with miserable moan, The drooping mother wail’d her children gone. The mother last, as round the nest she flew, Seized by the beating wing, the monster slew; Nor long survived: to marble turn’d, he stands A lasting prodigy on Aulis’ sands. Such was the will of Jove; and hence we dare Trust in his omen, and support the war. For while around we gazed with wondering eyes, And trembling sought the powers with sacrifice, Full of his god, the reverend Chalcas cried,[90] ‘Ye Grecian warriors! lay your fears aside. This wondrous signal Jove himself displays, Of long, long labours, but eternal praise. As many birds as by the snake were slain, So many years the toils of Greece remain; But wait the tenth, for Ilion’s fall decreed:’ Thus spoke the prophet, thus the Fates succeed. Obey, ye Grecians! with submission wait, Nor let your flight avert the Trojan fate.” He said: the shores with loud applauses sound, The hollow ships each deafening shout rebound. Then Nestor thus—“These vain debates forbear, Ye talk like children, not like heroes dare. Where now are all your high resolves at last? Your leagues concluded, your engagements past? Vow’d with libations and with victims then, Now vanish’d like their smoke: the faith of men! While useless words consume the unactive hours, No wonder Troy so long resists our powers. Rise, great Atrides! and with courage sway; We march to war, if thou direct the way. But leave the few that dare resist thy laws, The mean deserters of the Grecian cause, To grudge the conquests mighty Jove prepares, And view with envy our successful wars. On that great day, when first the martial train, Big with the fate of Ilion, plough’d the main, Jove, on the right, a prosperous signal sent, And thunder rolling shook the firmament. Encouraged hence, maintain the glorious strife, Till every soldier grasp a Phrygian wife, Till Helen’s woes at full revenged appear, And Troy’s proud matrons render tear for tear. Before that day, if any Greek invite His country’s troops to base, inglorious flight, Stand forth that Greek! and hoist his sail to fly, And die the dastard first, who dreads to die. But now, O monarch! all thy chiefs advise:[91] Nor what they offer, thou thyself despise. Among those counsels, let not mine be vain; In tribes and nations to divide thy train: His separate troops let every leader call, Each strengthen each, and all encourage all. What chief, or soldier, of the numerous band, Or bravely fights, or ill obeys command, When thus distinct they war, shall soon be known And what the cause of Ilion not o’erthrown; If fate resists, or if our arms are slow, If gods above prevent, or men below.” To him the king: “How much thy years excel In arts of counsel, and in speaking well! O would the gods, in love to Greece, decree But ten such sages as they grant in thee; Such wisdom soon should Priam’s force destroy, And soon should fall the haughty towers of Troy! But Jove forbids, who plunges those he hates In fierce contention and in vain debates: Now great Achilles from our aid withdraws, By me provoked; a captive maid the cause: If e’er as friends we join, the Trojan wall Must shake, and heavy will the vengeance fall! But now, ye warriors, take a short repast; And, well refresh’d, to bloody conflict haste. His sharpen’d spear let every Grecian wield, And every Grecian fix his brazen shield, Let all excite the fiery steeds of war, And all for combat fit the rattling car. This day, this dreadful day, let each contend; No rest, no respite, till the shades descend; Till darkness, or till death, shall cover all: Let the war bleed, and let the mighty fall; Till bathed in sweat be every manly breast, With the huge shield each brawny arm depress’d, Each aching nerve refuse the lance to throw, And each spent courser at the chariot blow. Who dares, inglorious, in his ships to stay, Who dares to tremble on this signal day; That wretch, too mean to fall by martial power, The birds shall mangle, and the dogs devour.” The monarch spoke; and straight a murmur rose, Loud as the surges when the tempest blows, That dash’d on broken rocks tumultuous roar, And foam and thunder on the stony shore. Straight to the tents the troops dispersing bend, The fires are kindled, and the smokes ascend; With hasty feasts they sacrifice, and pray, To avert the dangers of the doubtful day. A steer of five years’ age, large limb’d, and fed,[92] To Jove’s high altars Agamemnon led: There bade the noblest of the Grecian peers; And Nestor first, as most advanced in years. Next came Idomeneus,[93] and Tydeus’ son,[94] Ajax the less, and Ajax Telamon;[95] Then wise Ulysses in his rank was placed; And Menelaus came, unbid, the last.[96] The chiefs surround the destined beast, and take The sacred offering of the salted cake: When thus the king prefers his solemn prayer; “O thou! whose thunder rends the clouded air, Who in the heaven of heavens hast fixed thy throne, Supreme of gods! unbounded, and alone! Hear! and before the burning sun descends, Before the night her gloomy veil extends, Low in the dust be laid yon hostile spires, Be Priam’s palace sunk in Grecian fires. In Hector’s breast be plunged this shining sword, And slaughter’d heroes groan around their lord!” Thus prayed the chief: his unavailing prayer Great Jove refused, and toss’d in empty air: The God averse, while yet the fumes arose, Prepared new toils, and doubled woes on woes. Their prayers perform’d the chiefs the rite pursue, The barley sprinkled, and the victim slew. The limbs they sever from the inclosing hide, The thighs, selected to the gods, divide. On these, in double cauls involved with art, The choicest morsels lie from every part, From the cleft wood the crackling flames aspire While the fat victims feed the sacred fire. The thighs thus sacrificed, and entrails dress’d The assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest; Then spread the tables, the repast prepare, Each takes his seat, and each receives his share. Soon as the rage of hunger was suppress’d, The generous Nestor thus the prince address’d. “Now bid thy heralds sound the loud alarms, And call the squadrons sheathed in brazen arms; Now seize the occasion, now the troops survey, And lead to war when heaven directs the way.” He said; the monarch issued his commands; Straight the loud heralds call the gathering bands; The chiefs inclose their king; the hosts divide, In tribes and nations rank’d on either side. High in the midst the blue-eyed virgin flies; From rank to rank she darts her ardent eyes; The dreadful ægis, Jove’s immortal shield, Blazed on her arm, and lighten’d all the field: Round the vast orb a hundred serpents roll’d, Form’d the bright fringe, and seem’d to burn in gold, With this each Grecian’s manly breast she warms, Swells their bold hearts, and strings their nervous arms, No more they sigh, inglorious, to return, But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn. As on some mountain, through the lofty grove, The crackling flames ascend, and blaze above; The fires expanding, as the winds arise, Shoot their long beams, and kindle half the skies: So from the polish’d arms, and brazen shields, A gleamy splendour flash’d along the fields. Not less their number than the embodied cranes, Or milk-white swans in Asius’ watery plains. That, o’er the windings of Cayster’s springs,[97] Stretch their long necks, and clap their rustling wings, Now tower aloft, and course in airy rounds, Now light with noise; with noise the field resounds. Thus numerous and confused, extending wide, The legions crowd Scamander’s flowery side;[98] With rushing troops the plains are cover’d o’er, And thundering footsteps shake the sounding shore. Along the river’s level meads they stand, Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land, Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play, The wandering nation of a summer’s day: That, drawn by milky steams, at evening hours, In gather’d swarms surround the rural bowers; From pail to pail with busy murmur run The gilded legions, glittering in the sun. So throng’d, so close, the Grecian squadrons stood In radiant arms, and thirst for Trojan blood. Each leader now his scatter’d force conjoins In close array, and forms the deepening lines. Not with more ease the skilful shepherd-swain Collects his flocks from thousands on the plain. The king of kings, majestically tall, Towers o’er his armies, and outshines them all; Like some proud bull, that round the pastures leads His subject herds, the monarch of the meads, Great as the gods, the exalted chief was seen, His strength like Neptune, and like Mars his mien;[99] Jove o’er his eyes celestial glories spread, And dawning conquest played around his head. Say, virgins, seated round the throne divine, All-knowing goddesses! immortal nine![100] Since earth’s wide regions, heaven’s umneasur’d height, And hell’s abyss, hide nothing from your sight, (We, wretched mortals! lost in doubts below, But guess by rumour, and but boast we know,) O say what heroes, fired by thirst of fame, Or urged by wrongs, to Troy’s destruction came. To count them all, demands a thousand tongues, A throat of brass, and adamantine lungs. Daughters of Jove, assist! inspired by you The mighty labour dauntless I pursue; What crowded armies, from what climes they bring, Their names, their numbers, and their chiefs I sing. THE CATALOGUE OF THE SHIPS.[101] <div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/image11.png" width-obs="400" height-obs="395" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> NEPTUNE </div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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