Episode 26D – Romeo and Juliet, but Better

Episode 26D Show Notes

Source: Greek Mythology

This week on MYTH, the Greeks, after a series of misadventures that will prove to be kind of typical for this whole series, will finally reach distant Troy. You’ll see that no one should ever trust Odysseus, that Achilles just can’t seem to stop being an asshole, and that even gods get petty. Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll learn that every eight year old girl was a little bit right to think that ponies were magical. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 26D, “Romeo and Juliet, but Better”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
When we left the story last time, Paris, former herdsmen and lost prince of Troy, had agreed to judge a beauty contest for three goddesses, which Zeus was using to try and kill off as many humans (and especially his own bastard children) as he possibly could. In exchange for picking Aphrodite as the fairest of all, Paris was promised the love of the most beautiful woman in the world, who turned out to be Helen of Sparta. After getting an invite to a royal function, Paris kidnapped Helen, who had been magicked into loving Paris by Aphrodite, and carried her back to Troy, leaving her husband Menelaus alone and very angry. He had summoned all of the former suitors of Helen under the Oath of Tyndareus, and they had gathered in a fleet of over 1000 ships to demand their native daughter back. Or else. The attempts had been fraught with difficulties as everything from bad directions to vengeful gods had conspired to keep them away from Troy for more than eight years. Eventually, though, the fleet was on its way and headed for Troy.
Before everyone had set out, Achilles’ mother Thetis had begged her son not to be hot headed and leap out on to the shores of Troy first, as the oracle Calchas had said that the first man to step on Trojan soil would be the first to die. He had already broken his promise to her not to kill the king of Tenedos (as we covered last episode), so he was a little bit worried. Normally, he’d want to leap off the ship before it even finished docking, prophecy be damned. Now, he’d already set off one that might lead to his doom. He didn’t really need to make this any worse for a very minor glory.
Bad news has a tendency to get around, so it wasn’t long before everyone on the ship knew about Thetis’ warning to Achilles. Troy was approaching quickly, and no one wanted to be the first off the boat. There was a lot of discussion about what exactly the prophecy meant. It was vague on exactly when the unlucky victim would die, just that he would be first. It was possible that everyone would survive this skirmish and return home alive, meaning that the first to die could still die of old age. No one really believed it, though. This was likely to be war, and there was no way that everyone in the fleet would live through a war.
The Greek heroes were hardly cowards, but it was one thing to go out in a heroic blaze of glory and it was entirely another to seal your doom by just stepping off a ship first. It’s quickly becoming apparent that the ships were going to end up sitting in the bay outside Troy with no one willing to go do the thing they’d spent most of a decade already doing, so Odysseus steps in and volunteers to be the first. Of course, if you’ve learned anything about this crafty son of a bitch so far, you know he’s got a tricksy plan.
The ships pull up to the beach and Odysseus goes to the side. “Ooh, the beach is pretty wet. These are new sandals, and I really don’t want to spend all day with sand between my toes, so I’ll just toss my shield down to land on.” He throws his shield on the beach and leaps on it. Since he wasn’t immediately struck down, the others decide to follow, led by Protesilaus, leader of the Phylaceans. Protesilaus thinks Odysseus is just being prissy, so he leaps directly on the beach, making him the first man to actually set foot on Trojan soil (since Odysseus had managed to only step on his shield).
The Trojans had long expected this assault (I mean, it’s been eight years after all, and a massive fleet sailing for Troy, getting lost, coming back, and heading out again was big enough news to make it to the distant city), so they quickly send out a defending force to try and prevent the Greek landing. You might expect that Paris, as a prince of Troy and the casus belli of this whole thing, to be at the front of the defending force, but as I mentioned last episode, he’s pretty much a coward. Instead, it’s his brother Hector leading the charge.
The two armies crash into one another, and Hector ends up in single combat against Protesilaus, who has every confidence in victory since Odysseus is still up and fighting. Amidst the crash of weapons and the swirl of battle, the two men face off head to head. The Greek leader fights valiantly, but fate was literally against him, thanks to Odysseus’ trickery. Hector’s spear rips through his guts in a spray of blood and gore, and he drops to the sand, desperately trying to keep the ropy intestines on the inside. Despite this success, the Greeks fight well, and the Trojans retreat, conceding the beach. They regroup and, while the Greeks are still marshalling their forces on the beach, launch another attack.
Again the two armies clash, and men on both sides fall to the sand, bleeding and dying. Achilles finds himself facing Cycnus, son of Poseidon. He’s a dick, but he’s also a deadly fighter, and Achilles soon overmatches the Trojan and leaves him bleeding on the sand. Again, the Trojans are pushed back, and this time they decide to give up trying to stop the Greeks from landing and retreat behind the safety of the city walls. The Greeks bring the rest of the forces onto Trojan soil and surround the city as best they can, then settle in for a lengthy siege.
Freed from battle for the moment, the Greeks recover their dead. They gather the body of Protesilaus, who had slain many Trojans before meeting Hector and his end, and the cleverer ones realize just how tricky Odysseus had been. They decide to honor his sacrifice by building a shrine for him on the Thracian peninsula nearby. His brother Podarces takes over command of his troops.
The city of Troy was a marvel of the ancient world, said to have been built by the gods Poseidon and Apollo during a year of forced service to the Trojan King Laomedon after offending Zeus. He had promised to reward them well for this labor with altars and sacrifices, but once the work was done and the two gods went back to Olympus, he forgot pretty much immediately. This resulted in the gods visiting some terrible shit on him, in the form of a plague and a sea monster, but all of that will be covered when we talk about Hercules. Suffice it to say that the walls of Troy, literally built by gods, were considered to be impregnable.
The war would rock the foundation of the ancient world. So many powerful, famous heroes in one place couldn’t help but achieve incredible things. The weight of the war was felt even in Olympus, where the gods themselves began to take sides. Apollo, who may have fathered one of the princes of Troy (more on that in a moment) sides with the Trojans (in part because he is the city’s traditional protector), along with Artemis (who’s still mad at Agamemnon for defiling her sacred forest), Ares (who was jealous of his sister Athena for stealing too much of his glory as a war god), and Aphrodite (who felt like she owed it to Paris and Helen to back them after starting this whole bloody mess). Athena, patron god of the city of Athens and the Greeks in general, led the gods arrayed against Troy, along with Hera (who was bitter with Aphrodite for taking the prize she felt was hers), Poseidon (who had a grudge against Troy thanks to King Laomedon and who would get pissed off at the Trojans for stoning one of his priests to death for not sending a storm against the Greeks like they wanted), Hermes (whose reasons are unclear, but he does have a fondness for Odysseus as a fellow trickster), and Hephaestus (god of the forge, whose motivations I can’t guess at).
Things were a little uneven as far as divine patronage, but they were woefully one sided when it came to famous defenders. Troy had only a few, most notably Prince Hector and Aeneas, an ally from a neighboring kingdom. On the Greek side, there was a host of famous names: Agamemnon, Menelaus, Odysseus, Achilles, Diomedes, Ajax, and the other Ajax (yes, there are two, and yes, it gets confusing). Things didn’t look great for Troy, but a great stout wall built by gods went a long way to making the inhabitants feel they had the upper hand.
The city defenders had additional reason to be optimistic. A prophecy from one of their oracles had proclaimed that so long as the Trojan Prince Troilus lived to be twenty, the city would survive the war intact. Try saying that five times fast. His name has been interpreted by later scholars to be either a combination of Tros and Ilos, the two legendary founders of Troy, a nickname meaning “little Tros” (again a reference to a city founder), or a combination of the words Troy and lyo, which means to destroy. All three interpretations drive home the point that the fate of the city was linked to the fate of the young prince.
You may have heard the name Troilus before, especially if you’re a theater fan. It was made famous by Shakespeare in his play Troilus and Cressida, which very much ties in to this story. If you haven’t, it’s basically Romeo and Juliet, but better because it’s set during the Trojan War. The story from the show wasn’t added to the myth cycle until sometime in the 12th century, however, so I’ll cover both the original story and the modified one. First, the ancient one. Unfortunately, no intact sources survive of the original story, and the versions described by classical writers don’t agree on the specifics (which is part of why the later version came into existence).
At the start of the war, Troilus is still a boy, somewhere in his early teens. He was so beautiful (and yes, I meant to use the word beautiful instead of handsome) that most people believe he is the son of the god Apollo with Hecuba, queen of Troy. Either they’re wrong, or King Priam is a really good guy, because he raises the boy as his own much-beloved son.
Athena, goddess of wisdom and warriors, came to Achilles in a dream one night, after several weeks of inconclusive fighting on the beach. She tells him of the prophecy and warns him that their task is doomed so long as the boy lives. If they don’t want to all die here on the beach, without glory, Achilles should seek out and slay the young prince before he is old enough to join the fight and turn the tide. Achilles, who you should already know by now has absolutely no qualms about doing horrible things, readily agrees to murder a child on the word of a dream.
He asks around the camp, including some captured Trojans, and learns that the young boy loves horses. This wasn’t a huge surprise, considering how important the animals were in Greek society. They were so influential, in fact, that they were considered to be a literal gift from the gods. He watched the city for a few days, and learns that Troilus has a habit or riding from the city with his sister Polyxena to a well in Thymbra, just outside Troy proper. Achilles figures he can run them down, and plans an ambush.
Alone, he finds a hiding spot in the bushes near the well, and waits for the two children to ride near. He bursts out of concealment and races after Troilus. He might have gotten away clean if he didn’t take the time to throw his sister on her mount and slap the horse before mounting his own to ride for safety. Achilles, who is a demigod remember, outruns the horse and manages to leap up beside Troilus. Achilles snatches the terrified child by the hair and drags him off of the horse to roll in the dirt, bruised and bloodied by the fall. Even so, the boy is brave and he manages to get to his feet and flee towards the nearby temple of Apollo. He figures that even a warrior like Achilles wouldn’t dare to defile such a holy place with bloodshed (and maybe hoping Apollo actually is his dad and will help out).
He’s wrong. Achilles knows that his ambush has been seen by the sentries on the wall, and a rescue party will be coming soon. He could outrun them, but not with a child under his arm. This needs to end now. Achilles advances on the boy, who has backed up to the altar, begging this grown ass man not to murder an unarmed boy, and beheads him painfully and messily. Good enough, right? Job done, prophecy nullified, victory possible, you can go back to the camp right? Nope. Achilles is a mean son of a bitch, and even though he knows Trojans are on their way, he takes the time to mutilate and desecrate the corpse of the young prince before leaving. By some accounts, he performs what is known as maschalismos, a method that prevented the ghost of a murder victim from returning to haunt their killer, and required the murderer to cut off the corpse’s extremities and stringing them under the armpits of the dead body. Maybe Achilles is at least a little aware he’s a dick, although other accounts say the mutilation is because Troilus insulted Achilles when he was getting his sister to safety. Either way, the Trojans are understandably outraged at this heinous act, and swear vengeance on Achilles. Apollo, his temple defiled (and his maybe son dead), also swears vengeance on the Greek hero and throws his support behind the Trojans.
There are a lot of variations on the ancient story, but the one I used hits the major points. The medieval version of the story, which was used by Chaucer and Shakespeare in their versions, goes thusly. Troilus had always mocked the foolishness of young men and their young love. He thinks it’s stupid how easily they give in to their raging desires and do stupid shit for women. Then he sees Cressida in the temple of Athena and falls deeply, instantly in love with her. She is a young widow, and a daughter to the priest Calchas, who, you might remember from the last episode, was a Trojan seer who defected to the Greeks. At some point, she was taken in a raid as a prisoner of war, which is how she ended up amongst the Trojans.
Troilus is understandably embarrassed at having fallen into exactly the sort of stupid, forbidden love that he has always mocked, and decides to keep it a goddamned secret. There would be no end to the mockery if the other boys he used to insult found out he was a massive hypocrite. As teen boys are wont to do, especially in medieval literature, he pines for Cressida in secret and becomes all mopey and emo. Eventually, his friend Pandarus sees that something is eating his friend. “Dude, why are you all solemn and depressed lately? I mean yeah, we’re under siege because of your secret brother, but we’re behind a massive wall and we’re still able to trade, so we’re not gonna starve. What’s the problem?”
Troilus doesn’t want to tell him, but Pandarus is relentless, and Troilus eventually caves. “Well, you know how I was making fun of all the bros for getting all stupid over a girl? I’m kinda getting…stupid over a girl. In the Greek camp. Feel free to mock now.” Pandarus can’t help but laugh a little, but he says “Dude, this is a good thing! Our little man is finally growing up! You show me this girl, and I’ll play Goose to your Maverick.” Troilus goes with his friend to the temple again and points out the woman he definitely loves in spite of having spent exactly zero time with her. “Her? Cressida? Dude, she’s my cousin! This could totally work! I’m actually supposed to be guarding her honor and whatnot, but fuck that. You’re my bro, bro, so I’ll talk to her for you.” Already the rom com coincidences are piling up.
Troilus agrees, because he’s all love sick and shit, and Pandarus goes to meet his cousin. He points out his boy Troilus to her, and she soon admits that she’s secretly in love with him too, because of course she is. Smash cut to a late night tryst not long after with Pandarus running interference. They meet under the midnight moon and fuck like the horny teenagers they are. Like teenagers in Shakespeare everywhere, the young couple falls super deep in love super quick.
Everything seems to be going pretty well, which of course means it can’t last. Cressida’s father, Calchas, has been talking with Agamemnon and has finally convinced him to arrange for his daughter’s return as part of a hostage exchange for the Trojan captive Antenor. One of the Trojan soldiers goes to the temple to tell Cressida the good news. “Hey toots! Good news, your daddy managed to get you released. We’re doing the exchange tomorrow.” He wandered off, and her friends came up to her excitedly to congratulate her. “Why aren’t you excited, girlfriend? You’re getting out of this prison. It’s not the worst prison, true, but it’s still a prison. What could you possibly be sad about?”
“If I leave, I won’t be able to see the light of my life anymore. He’ll be on the Trojan side and I’ll be over on the Greek side, so it’s not like he can just come visit me. What if I never see him again?” Her friend gave her a sympathetic hug. “It won’t be like that. If that boy loves you, he’ll find a way to come to you.” Cressida wasn’t so sure, and she spent the rest of the day distraught.
That night, as she had hoped, Troilus came to visit. “I heard the news. You’re going to be a free woman again, huh?” “That’s what they say. I’ll be free to go see my dad again.” “Cool cool. Sounds like a big day for you. You seem happy, so I’ll just…” “I’m not happy, Troilus, I’m miserable! If I go back to the Greek camp, I won’t be able to see you anymore, and I love you.” Troilus rushed over to her and swept her up in a bone creaking hug. “I’m so glad you said that. I love you too, and I don’t know how I’m going to get along here without you.”
They spent the night talking, trying to figure out what to do. They considered refusing the transfer; they considered his defecting to the Greeks; they even considered abandoning the whole damned war and running off together to get eloped. Eventually, though, they decide that their honor won’t let them do any of these things. They have to go through with the prisoner swap and try to figure out a way to be together in spite of the war. They each swear to be faithful to the other and love no one else until they can be together again, and then they part for what could be the last time.
The swap goes smooth as butter, and Cressida finds herself back at some semblance of home, surrounded by her family and friends. At first, she finds it easy to love her beautiful Trojan prince from afar, but teenagers are fickle, and they hadn’t really known each other that well or spent that much time together. It should come as no surprise that in the fullness of time, a Greek soldier by the name of Diomedes begins to court her and, in spite of herself, she ends up falling for him. She goes with him as he prepares for battle one day, after they’ve been dating a while, and gives him a kiss for luck before the battle begins. Troilus soon learns from friends of his about Cressida’s new boyfriend. Having been himself faithful to his lady love, he is heartbroken and enraged. And, like many jealous ex-boyfriends throughout history, he decides to try and get revenge.
The next day, he gears up for battle himself, and has his friends point out the man they saw kiss his Cressida. It isn’t hard, because she’s there again today, giving him a kiss for luck. The battle begins, and Troilus hurls himself into the battle, slaying anyone who stands between himself and Diomedes. They meet in single combat, and Diomedes soon realizes who he is fighting and why. It’s unclear if he would have tried to show mercy to his lover’s ex-lover, because Troilus immediately goes for blood. The first time the battle throws them together, Diomedes unseats Troilus from his horse and captures the animal. He takes it back to the Greek camp as a gift for Cressida, although he doesn’t tell her where it came from. The second time they meet, Troilus gets the upper hand, driving Diomedes back and nearly killing him before the ebb and flow of battle pulls them apart again. Once more, they find one another, and they fight with everything they have left. Troilus slips up first, and Diomedes strikes, driving his spear into Troilus’ chest. He falls to the earth, bleeding and dying, under the gaze of the man who stole the only woman he ever loved.
The Shakespearean play uses this as a fairly small part of the actually story, and I won’t get into what makes up the majority, because that’s major plot points still to come. For the sake of continuity with the rest of the story, we’re going to assume the events of the first, more ancient version of the story to have occured. Cool? Cool.
The war continues after the death of the prince of Troy, but the defenders are more than a little disheartened at his passing. The first of the three conditions the Trojan oracles had predicted required for Troy to fall had now come to pass. The second is that the Greeks must convince Philoctetes (remember him from last episode) and Neoptolemus (and no one quite knew who he was) to fight for them. The third is that the Palladium, a statue of Athena given to Dardanus by Zeus himself, must be taken from inside the city. These conditions had not been widely shared, so the Greeks don’t know about them for many, many years. In fact, the war drags on for ten years. The Iliad, one of the most complete depictions of the war, and the source we’ll use primarily from here on in, only picks up just after the war enters its tenth year.
That means it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s monster is the horse. Not a magical horse, not a half horse half squid hybrid. A plain old, vanilla horse. Hear me out.
The horse was a vital and significant part of Greek culture, with eight different breeds cultivated in the various city states. They were a symbol of status and a key part of the ancient economy. Horses were, unsurprisingly, extremely expensive to buy and to keep, so they were the province of the wealthy, land-owning elite. During peacetime, horsemen would use the beasts to hunt and to race. During wartime, they became the mounts of the elite cavalry, which could turn the tides of battle.
Given their importance, it’s no surprise that the ancient Greeks thought the horses were a literal gift from the gods. There are two myths about how horses were created, and we’re going to discuss them here. See, aren’t you glad you stuck around?
The first story begins with Demeter, goddess of the harvest, wandering the earth looking for her lost daughter Persephone (we’ll discuss the specifics of that particular story some other time). Poseidon, god of the sea, had a crush of Demeter. For reasons I’ll never understand, he thought that the perfect time to profess his love was when a distraught mother was searching desperately for her missing daughter, who might be dead. Class act, Poseidon.
He caught up to her and asked her to go to bed with him (he wasn’t much of a romantic). Demeter was…less than enthusiastic. Understandable, really. Because women have always had to be worried about men taking rejection very, very poorly, she decides to find a nice way to let him down. “I’m a little busy right now, Poseidon, but you know what might help get me in the mood? A little beauty. Bring me a gift, Poseidon, but not just any gift. Make me something beautiful. Make me the most beautiful animal the world has ever seen.”
Poseidon figured he was up to the challenge and went back to his palace to try. He spent a week working on his creature and brought it to Demeter. The stories don’t say what it was, but I like to think it was the duck-billed platypus. “I have brought you a gift of beauty, my love. Here.” “The fuck is this? Poseidon, I said a gift of beauty. This creature is strange, but not beautiful. This is no good.”
He went back to his palace and tried again. This time, he spent a month working on the creature. Again, the stories don’t say what it was, but I like to think it was the hippopotamus. “I have brought you a much better gift, Demeter. Here, take a gander at this.” “That’s…that’s even uglier than the last one, Poseidon. That will never do.”
He went back a third time and tried yet again. This time, he spent a full year working on his creature. When he was done, there stood the world’s first horse. He went back to present it to Demeter again, but honestly, his heart just wasn’t in it anymore. He dropped off the horse and left without even bothering to ask her out again because fuck it. He had better things to do.
A slightly different version of the myth has Poseidon again chasing after Demeter, but instead of trying to distract him, she uses her goddess shape changing abilities to turn into a mare and flee. He, also having god shape changing abilities, turns into a stallion, chases her down, and rapes her (he is Zeus’ brother after all, so he finds rape an acceptable option). She gets knocked up, as pretty much always happens when gods fuck because holy semen is super effective, and eventually gives birth to two children: a son named Arion, an immortal winged horse with super intelligence and the ability to speak like a human not to be confused with the constellation Orion, and a daughter whose name was a secret to anyone not in the right super secret cult, but I’ll tell you her name was Despoine even so. Arion shows up in a couple stories, sometimes with different parents, but those are the highlights.
The second version, which I personally prefer, starts in the city of Cecropia. It had originally been named after their half man, half fish (or maybe serpent) king, Cecrops. Unlike most of the mythic heroes from Greece, though, he wasn’t reknowned for fighting battles or conquering kingdoms. Instead, he taught the citizens about marriage, literature, and burial rites. He was born from attempted rape, because this is a recurring theme in mythology. Athena, the virgin goddess of wisdom and warriors, had come to see Hephaestus, god of the forge, to obtain some sweet new weapons. When she walked in the door, he decided he simply had to fuck her right here and now but she, being not at all into having sex demanded of her, gets the fuck out of Dodge.
In spite of having a nasty limp (after Zeus threw him off of Olympus for reasons we won’t get into this episode), he manages to catch up to her. Chasing an unwilling woman for some reason makes him incredibly horny, to the point that when he just gets close to her, he cums violently all over her leg. This, unsurprisingly, disgusts Athena, and she gets away from him again, wipes the semen off her leg, and shakes it off onto the ground. When it hit the earth and mixed with the dirt, up sprang Cecrops. Athena took pity on the poor boy child and raises him in secret, because she’s just that nice.
She doesn’t really want to be a mom, though, so she quickly tires of taking care of a child and drops him off in a basket on the doorstep of the daughters of the king of the city that would become Cecropia. Curious at what was in the strange box that appeared overnight, they opened it and saw a half human half serpent baby. The sight was apparently so shocking that they went insane and committed suicide (or maybe were eaten by the snake baby). Athena realizes that this was a bad idea, and takes him to a rocky hill she builds for him with rocks taken from the Pallini Sea, where the Acropolis would later be built. There, he grew to adulthood and eventually took over as king since the previous king’s children had both mysteriously committed suicide. Or been eaten.
Cecrops decided that the city needed a name, rather than just being named after him so that it would last beyond him, and decided to rebrand. Athena and Poseidon both decided they wanted a city named after them, and go into a bidding war. The king, realizing that he could really use this to the advantage of his people, offers to name the city after whichever god makes the most useful gift for the city. Both gods go off to create, and come back a week later with their gifts. Poseidon presents the city with the world’s first horse, a creature that could be used to farm, to communicate, and to wage war. In some versions, he instead smites the ground and creates a spring of sea water, but that version doesn’t include horses, so fuck it. The king could easily see how useful this would be. This was going to be hard to beat.
Athena felt she was up to the challenge. She gestured to a field just outside the city where she had grown the first grove of olive trees. The olive was the staple of the Greek diet, it’s oil was used to light lanterns and keep people warm in the winter, and the branches and leaves were used to build mattresses. A horse was nice, but the olive was a game changer. Cecrops decides that Athena had won the contest, and the city was thereafter known as Athens, which would become the capital of Greece, as well as the center of culture and learning in the ancient world.

That’s it for this episode of Myth Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher or on TuneIn and now, on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you like what you’ve heard, I’d appreciate a review on iTunes. These reviews really help increase the show’s standing and let more people know it exists. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff, whom you can find on fiverr.com.
Next time, we’ll fast forward passed nine years of fairly uneventful siege to the tenth year, when all the good stuff happens. You’ll see that Achilles is basically a spoiled toddler, that you should seriously never piss off Odysseus, and that Agamemnon isn’t much better. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll learn the tragic history behind the double rainbow. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.