Beowulf: A Cautionary Love Story

At an initial glance, Beowulf may strike a reader as entirely devoid of romance and sensuality. The heterosexual conventions seen in other ancient epics: marriage, heterosexual sex, and pregnancy are largely invisible, though we know that they exist; the marginal presence of wives and the survival of the warrior tribe’s lineage provide evidence of heterosexual relationships. These relationships are largely understated and marginal. (Lees, 140) At a second glance, it becomes clear that Beowulf is not devoid of sensuousness at all; the most sensuous sections of Beowulf are simply not classic scenes of heterosexual romance, but scenes of violence and power dynamics. The homoerotic undertones of Beowulf can be read as evidence of the epic’s warrior culture’s valuation of men, particularly of physicality of the male body. The most emotive and sexual scenes are depiction of battles and the scenes between king and warrior. The language in these scenes reveal what is most valued in the warrior culture of Beowulf. While the epic celebrates male-male relationships, warrior culture, valorous deeds, and masculine power, the ending of the epic raises questions about those very same cultural practices. Beowulf’s failure to produce a biological heir, and his misguided determination to do battle even after he has aged results in the destruction of his kingdom. (Lees, 141) His adherence to the value system of his culture lead to the demise of his people. The narrative of Beowulf reads as both a celebration and criticism of a patriarchal warrior culture.

The most overtly sexualized scenes occur when Beowulf is engaging in battle. While these scenes are particularly action packed, these scenes are also narrated with sensuous language that is largely absent in the rest of the narrative. In his fight with Grendel, Beowulf is unable to penetrate him with his sword, “[The] best iron in the world, the sharpest blade, /could not harm him, the evil demon, /not touch him at all.” (Beowulf, 95) While the sword acts as a surrogate for the penis, penetration would signal conquest. Because Beowulf’s proxy phallus is unable to pierce Grendel, Beowulf fights Grendel with his bare hands. “That Hygelac’s kinsman, the bold-hearted man, / had him in hand. It was hateful to each/ that the other lived. / The terrible creature took a body wound there; a gaping tear/ opened in his shoulder; tendons popped, / muscle slipped the bone. Glory in battle / was given to Beowulf.” (Beowulf, 95) This “gaping tear” seems to represent the forceful creation of a vagina. Because Beowulf could not penetrate Grendel with his phallic sword, he entirely feminizes Grendel. This battle reads much like a rape scene. The same is true of the following battle scene with Grendel’s mother.

This scene is particularly striking because it is the most intense female-male interaction in which Beowulf participates. Initially Grendel’s mother is portrayed as a lesser opponent to her son, yet her battle with Beowulf is much more drawn out and dramatic. (Puhvel, 81) This fight also has distinctly sexual undertones. (Acker, 708) The importance and value of the scene is highlighted with incredibly sensual and active language: “Now that he was battle-furious, / [he] threw up his opponent so she fell to the ground. / Up again quickly, she gave him hand-payment / with a terrible crush, again grabbed him tight.” (Beowulf, 139) This blow-by blow fighting is incredibly different from the fight scene with Grendel. The Grendel-Beowulf scene only lasts a few lines before he is defeated. (Puhvel, 82) In that scene Beowulf is very much the aggressor and conqueror, while Grendel seems to be a more passive party. In contrast, Grendel’s mother tries several times to penetrate Beowulf. “She sat on her hall-guest and drew her broad knife /a sharp weapon, to buy back her son, / her only kinsman. Across his chest / lay the iron net; it saved his life / as she hacked and stabbed, would give her no entry.” (Beowulf, 139) In this case, Beowulf proves impenetrable and thus maintains his masculinity and power. His opponent does not prove as lucky,

“Then he saw among the armor a victory bright blade / made by the giants, an uncracking edge, /…longer and heavier than any other man / could ever have carried in the play of war-strokes, /…The bold Scylding drew it from its magic scabbard, /savage in battle-lust, despairing of life, / angrily raised the shearer of life-threads, / swung hard on her throat, broke through he spine, / halved the doomed body.” (Beowulf, 139)

Beowulf succeeds in entirely penetrating her body, to the point that he exposes her womb. In order to do so he uses a sword of giant proportions. While Grendel’s mother is supposedly a woman, her monster status brings into question the physicality of her sex. She is described as “in the likeness of a woman,” (Beowulf, 127) which suggests that her sex is not definite. Thus, this cannot be read as a firmly heterosexual encounter.
It is clear by the sensual nature of both scenes that success in physical battle was valued and celebrated in this warrior culture. Deeds won a warrior respect and power. (Drout, 202) In both of these battles, the warrior body is treated as conqueror or conquered, penetrator or penetrated. Valor and strength, both traditionally masculine traits, are the characteristics valued by this warrior society. While men are more highly valued in this culture, their lives are constantly at risk, their strength and valor constantly tested. These men have to continently reaffirm their value to society or die. Beowulf earns his position and right to rule through these deeds. (Drout, 202)

Arguably, the most important male-male bond in Beowulf is between Beowulf and Hrothgar. (Fox, 205) This relationship highlights the two most highly valued men in a warrior society: the king and his champion. The scenes depicting Hrothgar and Beowulf are emotionally rich in comparison with the majority of the narrative. When Hrothgar bids farewell to Beowulf, we observe a man acting without emotional reserve.
“Then that good king, of a noble race, / great Scylding prince, held that best thane / round the neck and kissed him; his tears ran down, / streaked his gray beard. Wise in his age, / he expected two things, but one more strongly / that never again would they look on each other / as in this brave meeting. That man was so dear / that he could not withhold those deep tears; / fixed in his heart by the bonds of thought. / a deep felt longing for the beloved man / burned in his blood.” (Beowulf 157-159)

There are certainly homoerotic undertones in this passage. It seems that Hrothgar desires the body of Beowulf. However this may not be a sexual desire, rather a desire for him to have that body as his own. The warrior cultures values of strength and fierceness cannot be maintained in Hrothgar’s old age. Indeed, he is said to be a good king, until he fails to physically protect his people from Grendel’s attacks. (Drout, 201) “He was one king / blameless in everything, till age took from him / the joy of strength—a thing that harms many.” (Beowulf, 159) If Hrothgar had Beowulf’s strength in addition to his continued line through his sons, he would be considered the perfect king. Once Hrothgar’s physical strength has drained, he is no longer seen as a “blameless” king. This perception can help explain Beowulf’s own continuation of battle after he becomes king.
While Beowulf is a king, he fails to produce his own heir. While he may have married, there is no mention of a wife. It is possibly that Beowulf only nurtured homosocial relationships with men. Robin Fox explains the valuation of male-male bonds over male-female bonds in his chapter “In the Company of Men: Tribal Bonds in Warrior Epics”: “Males hunting or fighting together had to develop a special kind of trust that wend beyond simple friendship…the heterosexual bond was ritually downgraded…and exclusive male groups were formed…” (197) Certainly in Beowulf the constant threat of trespassing enemies required men to create strong bonds of trust and loyalty.

We can also see that the marriage bond is downgraded in favor for the king-warrior relationship. This is visible in Hrothgar’s “adoption” of Beowulf to which his wife, Wealtheow nervously objects. (Drout, 201) “Now, my Beowulf, / best of men, I will love you like a son, / cherish you for life. Keep this new kinship / deep in your heart. Nothing I own, / of my worldly goods, would I keep from you.” (Beowulf, 103) Hrothgar’s adoption gives Beowulf a chance of inheriting Hrothgar’s throne even though he is not of the bloodline. The fact that this is a possibly is made clear when Wealtheow protests, reminding Hrothgar he has blood relatives who are strong enough to rule. (Drout, 201) “Full well I know / of my gracious Hrothulf that he would rule / the young men in honor, would keep all well, / if you should give up this world before him. / I expect he will want to repay our sons / only with good once he recalls / all we have done.” (Beowulf, 117) Hrothgar fails to consult his wife and consider the implications this adoption could have on their sons. Hrothgar clearly values his alliance with a warrior more than his own marriage with his wife, or even his blood bond with his own biological sons. Their youth makes them deemed temporarily useless in a warrior culture, thus his relationship with Beowulf is more highly valued.

This tension between husband and wife reflects Fox’s views of the opposing desires of men and women in warrior culture: “The heterosexual bond was necessary for reproduction but…also as inimical to the male bond… There was…a constant tension between the demands of the reproductive bond and those of the male bond. Men would be ambivalent about the heterosexual bond insofar as it threatened the male association.” (197) While reproduction is necessary in this society to create a male heir, it also seems to weaken the male himself. Hrothgar must consider the affects his actions have on his family as well as attempt to do what is best for his kingdom. Beowulf avoids this tension by not having children, however this leads to the uncertain future of his own kingdom.

As Beowulf dies after his defeat of the dragon, he mourns the fact that he does not have a male heir: “Now I would want to give to my son / these war-garments, had it been granted / that I have a guardian born from my body / for this inheritance.” (Beowulf, 213) Because Beowulf only engaged, as far as we know, with the male warrior world, he had no means of producing an heir. He was by the standards of his warrior culture, a good king: “I ruled this people / for fifty winters, and there was no ruler / of surrounding nations, not any, who dared / meet me with armies, see out a battle, / make any onslaught, terror, oppression, / upon Geatish men.” (Beowulf, 213) While Hrothgar failed in his age, Beowulf, in the eyes of this culture, has succeeded by continuing to physically protect his people until death. Hrothgar has left sons and nephews who can take his place, while Beowulf must ask his fellow warrior, Wiglaf to succeed him. Whether Wiglaf will be acknowledged remains to be seen. All the treasure he earns in his defeat of the dragon that causes his death is burned with his body, further emphasizing the pointlessness and fruitlessness of Beowulf’s death. The treasure that could give life to his people is destroyed with the leader who failed to give life to a successor.

While this warrior culture encourages the marginalization of all things female, and the celebration of warriors, the two sides need each other in order to survive. Hrothgar seems to acknowledge and accept this. He has both a champion to protect his people and a wife to ensure the future of his kingdom. Beowulf does not seek a champion or a wife but continues to fight until he is at least in his sixties. He plays both the role of warrior and king without foresight. In Beowulf’s strict adherence to the highest values of his culture, he actually endangers the people whom he rules. The narrative of Beowulf reveals its two most important players, warrior and king through either sensual or emotive language. These two most valued roles are complicated by the values of warrior culture. Men must be able to protect their people physically and provide a lineage for in the future. Beowulf and Hrothgar provide us with two opposing examples of kingship, a wise yet weak king with sons, and a warrior king without foresight or heirs. Both kings, in an attempt to achieve value within the warrior culture, are unable to entirely succeed. Beowulf, who is celebrated in his own epic poem for his his valor and strength, leaves his people in a worse state that Hrothgar does, even though Hrothgar is viewed as a deficient aged king. Beowulf, in its celebration of a great warrior, illustrates the paradoxical and problematic value system within patriarchal warrior culture.


Sexual Politics by Kate Millet


In high my high school yearbook a select few students are given a superlative; most likely to skip class, best smile, class clown etc. I won most likely to be president along with my friend Keith Pence (a boy and a girl won each). The day we found out, one of the ugliest guys in our class approached me and said through his crooked teeth, “Well you’d have to be VP.” When I asked him why, he responded as though it was obvious. “Because you’re a girl.”

Now if this ogre had given me a valid reason why I’d be a lack-luster president I might have backed down. You’re too cranky, or selfish would have been sufficient, but the fact that he used my gender as a handicap hit me the wrong way. After pushing him in the hallway, I proceeded to try and run him down in the school parking lot with my Toyota Rav4 (not my proudest hour). Here’s the thing. As a woman in American society, I haven’t felt that things are going to be easy for me. Employers are wary of hiring me because I may be pregnant in a few years. Could I do the job better than the next mediocre male who walks through the door? Probably. But my gender has held me back in success, and it isn’t for lack of intelligence or effort.

Again in high school, I was held to yet another double standard. After a heated debate in my government class about whether women should be allowed to fight in the military, I had heard just about enough. A kid who I had known since elementary school had revealed particularly sexist tendencies, pontificating about the physical weakness of women. Thinking I’d show him weakness, I slapped him across the face twice. Of course my government teacher saw and the next thing I knew I was sitting in the dean’s office.

“You’re going to have to call a parent.”

“Okay…can a choose which parent?”


“Okay, great.”

I told my dad what had happened. “I hit someone in class.”

“Boy or girl?”


“He deserve it?”


“You hit him hard?”


“We don’t have to tell your mom about this.”

Feeling relieved with my dad’s reaction I sat comfortably back in the deans office chair. The female dean said to me, “You know, I know how you feel. This high school is a bit of a boy’s club. You know if you were a boy, you would be getting detention for this, but since you’re a girl, we’ll let you off with a warning.”


The whole reason I was in that office was for trying to defend my gender, and here again I am treated differently. I told her that I wanted the detention. I served it, and frankly I consider that blot on my record a battle scar in the war of gender rights.

Sexism is imbedded so deeply in our culture that it is hard to find the exact origin. Kate Millet in Sexual Politics explores this phenomenon in several disciplines including psychology, anthropology, sociology, and finally literary influences. Though there is no clear solution for the problem of sexism, understanding the basis of out culture’s understanding of gender is essential in moving forward. I highly recommend this book to both males and females to better understand the gender politics of current society.

Trojan Horses: The Political Effects of Disguise and Veiled Rhetoric in Sidney’s Old Arcadia

ImageThe political atmosphere in Arcadia makes Pyrocles and Musidorus’ courtships of Pamela and Philoclea in Philip Sidney’s Old Arcadia illicit.  As a response to the social and political barriers, the princes are forced to hide their amorous intentions as they pursue their beloveds. Thus, both physical disguise and rhetorical veiling characterize these courtships. They enter Arcadia with their intentions and bodies disguised, much like Trojan horses.  The restrictions governing these courtships fail to make them any less erotic. On the contrary, the necessary veiling and revealing makes the wooing much more mysterious and intriguing, and therefore successful. These techniques are so effective that, due to the affected character’s political role, the stability of Arcadia is put at serious risk. As the characters begin to succumb to their inadmissible desires in response to the veiled rhetoric, the political stability of Arcadia is threatened. The restrictions imposed by the political climate in Arcadia force the princes to resort to unconventional means of disguise and manipulation. Though the princes arrived with intentions simply to court the princesses, they nearly destroy Arcadia just as the Trojan horse destroyed Troy.

Philip Sidney’s Old Arcadia begins with Arcadia’s Duke, Basilius, visiting an oracle that warns him that his oldest daughter shall “by princely mean be stolen and yet not lost,” and his younger daughter shall have an “uncouth love, which nature hateth most.”[1] In order to prevent these catastrophes, Basilius decides to abandon his state and hide away with his family. Unknown to Basilius, two princes have come to Arcadia to court his daughters.  The state of Basilius’ political hideout makes the princes’ desired courtship of the princesses inadmissible, thus the princes are forced to disguise themselves in order to gain access to them. Pyrocles dresses as an Amazon, Cleophila, while Musidorus dons the apparel of a shepherd, Dorus.  As princes, they have no chance of getting close enough to the princesses to court them.  These disguises, which would seemingly make courting the princesses impossible—a woman, and a man of a lower social status—actually allow them access to the princesses. By constraining their courtship, Basilius forces the princes to circumvent these obstacles by veiling their both their communication and identities, which ultimately leads to a more erotic pursuit.[2] The boundaries set in place by Basilius, though certainly complicating the courtships, not only fail to prevent it, but actually aid the suit.

Musidorus, because he is disguised as a shepherd, has a difficult time gaining Pamela’s ear. In order to gain her attention, he begins courting Mopsa, the daughter of one of Basilius’ servants.  Despite Pamela’s distain for Dorus’ social class, she cannot help but be jealous of Mopsa, “so falls it often in the excellent woman that even that which they disdain to themselves yet like they no that others should win it from them.”[3] As Dorus achieves Pamela’s attention, Pamela realizes the incongruities between his words and Mospa’s virtues.[4] “But the more she marked the expressing of Dorus’ affection towards Mopsa, the more she thought she found such phrases applied to Mopsa as must needs argue either great ignorance or a second meaning.”[5] Dorus’ ability to pass information only unto her convinces Pamela that Dorus must be more than a mere shepherd. This courtship is made more erotic both by Dorus’ appeal to Pamela’s intelligence, and the fact that this expression of illicit desire is expressed in a public place. Upon learning Musidorus’ true identity, Pamela runs away with him, leaving the state without an heir to the throne. The combination of veiling and revealing desire creates an excitement for Pamela that would not have been present in a straightforward pursuit.

When Pyrocles first lays eyes on Philoclea, it is she, though probably unintentionally, that attracts Pyrocles using physical veiling. “She appeared in her nymphlike apparel, so near nakedness as one might well discern part of her perfections, and yet so apparelled as did show she kept the best store of her beauties to herself”[6] Through a combination of concealing and revealing, Philoclea manages to appear more desirable than she would if she were simply naked. Pyrocles is able to see a glimpse of her beauties, but just enough is revealed to make him want to see more. The combination of knowledge and mystery makes the sexualized figure of Philoclea all the more attractive to Pyrocles.[7]

After rescuing Philoclea from a lion, Pyrocles’ female disguise proves to be a bit too effective. He does gain access to Philoclea, but he also attracts Gynicia and Basilius, Philoclea’s mother and father. Interestingly, each character’s interpretation of and attraction to the disguise of Cleophila is vastly different. “Fortune had framed a very stage-play of love among these few folks, making the old age of Basilius, the virtue of Gynecia, and the simplicity of Philoclea, all affected to one; but by a three-headed kind of passion.”[8] Basilius is immediately convinced by Pyrocles disguise and is simply attracted to his/her beauty. Gynicia realizes the possibility that Cleophila is a man in women’s clothing and falls in love with the man underneath the disguise. Cleophila intrigues Philoclea, however she is uncertain in her love for her.  She is unclear about her feelings, as she has not yet experienced erotic love.  “But sweet Philoclea grew shortly after all other into worst terms; for taking her to be such as she professed, desired she did, but she knew not what, and she longed to obtain that whereof she herself could not imagine the mean.”[9]  

Cleophila’s act of valor is much less effective in wooing Philoclea than the lines of poetry Cleophila presents in Sapphic verse in the first ecologues. Veiled rhetoric proves more erotic than outright deeds and causes Philoclea’s uncertain desire to morph into realized erotic love.[10] Philoclea falls passionately in love with Cleophia, though she is dismayed with herself because she still thinks her a woman.  It is clear that her love has become a sexual one when Philoclea prays to Diana, the virgin goddess, “O Diana…I would either the cloud that now hides the light of my virtue would as easily pass away as you will quickly overcome this let; or else that you were for ever thus darkened to serve for a better excuse of my outrageous folly.”[11]

Philoclea’s susceptibility to this veiled rhetoric further reveals the power of disguise, both in appearance and in rhetoric, as an erotic weapon. Not only is she ashamed for her seemingly unnatural love, she is tortured by the fact that she cannot consummate it. “It is the impossibility that doth torment me; for unlawful desires are punished after the effect of enjoying, but impossible desires are plagued in the desire itself.”[12]  Because Philoclea thinks her love impossible, she is able to look at her unlawful desire for Pyrocles when he reveals himself with less resistance. She is left to dwell on her seemingly unattainable desire, making her vulnerable when she is presented the opportunity of achieving it. Upon revealing himself as Pyrocles, Philoclea surrenders immediately, “How may that well be; when thou wert Cleophila, the despair thou mightst not be thus did then most torment me? Thou hast then the victory; use it now with virtue.”[13] Kathryn DeZur describes the dangers rhetoric poses to women in her essay, ‘Defending the Castle,’ “Persuasive rhetoric, when not read within the confines of a woman’s primary obligation as a huswife – the assurance of her chastity – can inflame the female imagination and tempt her into sin.”[14]  Though seduction certainly has a personal effect on Philoclea, her position as a princess makes her actions have an effect on the political structure. As Blaire Worden observes, “”Sidney’s language of politics is full of the language of private life. His language of private life is no less full of the language of politics.”[15]  Philoclea and Pamela’s virginity is frequently referred to by Sidney as their “castle” creating simultaneously sexual imagery, a castle for the princes to conquer, and political imagery, a castle as the center of the state.[16]  The political positions of the characters make their personal actions have much graver consequence.

At this point in the plot, Basilius is thought dead, Gynicia is being prosecuted for murder, and the heiress to the throne, Pamela has gone missing with Dorus.  Philoclea would have been the natural back up had she not fornicated with Pyrocles. Arcadia is left without a ruler as a result of the seduction of Pamela and Philoclea.

The princesses are not the only characters in the play who fall prey to erotic desire caused by the veiled rhetoric and physical disguise. Basilius and Gynicia’s adulterous desire for Cleophila prove the most destructive due to their political positions as rulers and their marital status. Their personal choices affect the integrity of the state in addition to their marriage.[17]

Basilius is the least discerning character. He is completely convinced by both veiled rhetoric and disguise. His complete inability to govern his passions reflects on his incapacity to govern the state effectively. Indeed, Basilius is described on the very first page as, “a prince of sufficient skill to govern so quiet a country.”[18]  His desire for Cleophia is inadmissible as a ruler and as a husband, yet his foolish disposition and lack of intelligence makes Gynicia more accountable for her actions.

As the wife of a ruler, Gynicia should be a model for the women of the state to follow; yet her susceptibility to veiled rhetoric and disguise lead to an inadmissible desire that cause her to violate her marriage and thus her role as queen. Her desire for Pyrocles, stemming from a desire for him to reveal his suspected male self, causes her to change from a ruler to a slave. “And this doubt framed in her a desire to know, and desire to know brought forth shortly such longing to enjoy that it reduced her whole mind to an extreme and unfortunate slavery-pitifully, truly, considering her beauty and estate.”[19]  Interestingly, Gynicia is the character most able to see through physical and rhetorical veils. Accordingly, she is held to a much higher moral standard than Basilius.  She is the only character, with the exception of Dametus, who suspects that Cleophila is actually a man. It is only when she allows her illicit desire for Cleophila to overcome her reason that she is duped.  When Cleophila seems to promise a sexual encounter to Gyncia, she says, “For I will now to my too much joy take the charge upon me within few days to work your satisfaction and my felicity.”[20] Gynicia assumes her “satisfaction” is referring to sex with Cleophila, while she is really being set up to have sex with her husband, and Cleophia’s felicity will be caused by a sexual encounter with Philoclea.[21] 

            After giving her husband a potion that is supposed to increase erotic desire, it appears Gynica has killed Basilius.  Subsequently she is put on trial for both adulterous desire and murder. Eucharus equates Gynicia’s seeming murder of her husband to the revolt of a subject in her trial as her actions have both private and public connotations.[22] “Both in private and public respects, this woman has most heinously offended.”[23] The punishment decided upon is to be buried alive with Basilius. Luckily, Basilius was simply asleep so no one is killed, and the princes marry the princesses. However the realization of the ability of veiled rhetoric to change people is painfully present within the happy ending.

         The Arcadian political regime restricts the princes’ ability to court the princesses.  This causes them to resort to physical disguise and veiled rhetoric to reach their goal.  This rhetoric and disguise is incredibly effective, possibly even more successful than a straightforward courtship, winning the love of both princesses. However, the disguise of Pyrocles unfortunately causes Gynicia and Basilius to also love him, which causes political unrest due to the king and queen’s obligation to rule, and private conflict because their desire is adulterous. Basilius’ hiding of the princesses nearly destroys the state because it causes the princes to utilize disguise and rhetoric and enter Arcadia like a Trojan horse, creating political and private conflicts.


[1] Sir Philip Sidney: The Old Arcadia (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 5.

[2] Kathryn DeZur: ‘Defending the castle: The political problem of rhetorical seduction and good huswifery in Sidney’s Old Arcadia’, Studies in Philology, Vol. 98: Iss. 1 (2001).

[3] Sidney, The Old Arcadia, 87.

[4] Richard C. McCoy: Sir Philip Sidney: Rebellion in Arcadia (Hassocks: Harvester University Press Limited, 1979), 111-112.

[5] Sidney, The Old Arcadia, 87.

[6] Ibid, 34.

[7] DeZur, Studies in Philology.

[8] Sidney, The Old Arcadia, 49.

[9] Ibid.

[10] DeZur, Studies in Philology.

[11] Sidney, The Old Arcadia, 98.

[12] Ibid.

[13] Sidney, The Old Arcadia, 107.

[14] DeZur, Studies in Philology.

[15] Dr. Blair Worden: The Sound of Virtue: Philip Sidney’s Arcadia and Elizabethan Politics (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996), 320.

[16] DeZur, Studies in Philology.

[17] DeZur, Studies in Philology.

[18] Sidney, The Old Arcadia, 4.

[19] Sidney, The Old Arcadia, 43-44.

[20] Ibid. 181.

[21] DeZur, Studies in Philology.

[22] Ibid.

[23] Sidney, The Old Arcadia, 331.