"In actuality, there's probably no Shakespeare that Woman's Will wouldn't do well...Woman's Will is no-nonsense theatre brimming with intelligence and passion." - Chad Jones,
Oakland Tribune


The Bay Area’s all-female Shakespeare company makes another foray outside the Shakespearean canon with this sexy, rowdy romp through Carnival. True love, sword fights, and young women behaving badly abound in this early appeal for women’s rights written in 1677 by Aphra Behn, the first English woman to make her living by the pen.
"...not only very funny and at times engrossing, but also enlightening. the company's standard all-female casting pays off in intriguing insights into Behn's unusually liberated treatment of the battle of the sexes." -Robert Hurwitt, SF Chronicle
"With a plucky cast and spirited direction by Erin Merritt, it's a fun, accessible play by a once forgotten Restoration master only recently restored herself." -Robert Avila, SF Bay Guardian
Aphra Behn (1640-1689) was a feminist, royalist, spy, closet Catholic, and the first Englishwoman to make her living by the pen. Known for her wit and daring, Behn titillated London society with her plays, which were among the most popular of their day. The subject matter of her work was no more bawdy than that of her contemporaries, but was much more scandalous to playgoers because women were not supposed to have sexual thoughts, let alone write them down. Even more shocking, Behn lived her words, taking many lovers throughout her life (The Rover is, in fact, an adaptation of Tomasso, a play by one of those lovers, Thomas Killigrew), living an independent life and, no matter the consequences, always speaking her mind.
The Rover premiered in 1677, during the reign of Charles II, a charismatic and womanizing monarch in whom Behn was a true believer. The Restoration Era (which began when Charles was "restored" to the throne in 1660) was a period of relative calm that followed years of Civil War and decades of warfare with neighboring states, particularly the Netherlands (a fellow Protestant state), France, and Spain (Catholic states). Competition over trade routes was the usual cause of strife, and intermarriage between countries the cure, but every time an English royal was married to a Catholic foreigner, the country erupted in panic, convinced that the plague of "Popery" was about to sweep the land.
The English Civil Wars and Revolution (1642-1649) ended in the beheading of Charles II's father, Charles I, and marked the ostensible destruction of the monarchy in England in favor of a Commonwealth government (1649-1660). Not a class war but a war of ideology and, by extension, religion, the Civil Wars pitted everyone against everyone else in increasingly complicated permutations. The two sides are simplistically remembered as Cavaliers (royalists) and Roundheads (Parliamentarians, or, more specifically, Puritans, recognizable by their "round-head" haircuts). Behn paints the Puritans (as Shakespeare did before her) as small-minded religious bigots obsessed with stomping on civil rights, personal freedom, and good, old-fashioned fun. Behn's Cavaliers, on the other hand, are the preservers of cosmopolitanism, style, wit, freedom of religion, and small "c" catholicism: joyful sexuality, play as an important part of life, and the chance to be forgiven for one's sins. She gives us three such cavaliers as the heroes of The Rover.
For fighting on the side of the monarchy, the property of many cavaliers had been seized, leaving them with little choice but to make their living in other ways. Some, like Charles II himself, fled England and lived abroad. Finding themselves homeless, property-less, and forced to earn a living, the cavaliers in the play have become mercenaries while they await the chance to fight for England again. You will hear mentioned both King Charles and his nephew Prince Rupert, the great warrior general for the Cavaliers. Prince Rupert's main opposition in battle was the Earl of Essex, who was renowned almost as much for his battle strategies as for his scandalous failures with women (he was left by not one but two wives-both named Frances-for being "less than a man"). No wonder the cavaliers want to see the Essex-native Blunt, their benefactor but not a true compatriot, beaten and whipped by a woman!
The Rover is set in the Kingdom of Naples, Italy, which was at the time of the play a colony of Spain, ruled by a Vice-Roy. What place more irresistible to the displaced cavaliers? If there is no freedom and fun at home, why not visit their age-old rival, the Spaniard, and flirt with his women? Since the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 (Sancho's "quarrel with old Queen Bess"), the English had waved a banner of superiority over the Spanish, whose Golden Age was in rapid decline. No doubt The Rover's cavaliers hope to continue their conquest in small ways until they regain their own country from which to wage war properly. Restoration audiences, in turn, must have seen the cavaliers' exploits-in-exile as evidence that the great spirits of liberalism and royalism lived even through those difficult years.
Behn sets her play in a faraway land during Carnival times, when society turns upside-down and rules can be circumvented, again, giving us the comic version of the sense that royalists must have felt in their own country during the Commonwealth. Everyone is in a foreign land, and all are doing just what is not expected of them. And even when the enemy is running the world in real life, the heroes win the day on stage. The Carnival theme also expedites Behn's long-running personal agenda, since the rules of Carnival allow women to escape social roles as much as men can. In The Rover, high born women play harlots for fun while a courtesan named Angelica Bianca (White Angel) searches for love that is pure; and girls can escape the bondage of forced matrimony by aligning themselves with men who share their love of freedom or simply their love of love. Mirroring the life and loves of her adored King Charles II, Behn offers a title character who is lascivious as the day is long and compatriots who, though honorable, surely like their wine, women and song. Their partners in crime, though, the heroines of the play, are truly matches for their men. Belvile, honest and true, wins the heart of the ingenue Florinda, and both are willing to fight for their love. Hellena and Valeria, the minxes, care not if their men chase every skirt they see, for these women see the freedom in that to chase their own desires. As Callis says early on, "I see that women may do most of their own business on earth themselves, if they would but leave spinning and try."
And so, whatever we may think in 2003, having fought our own battles in a society governed by presidents lascivious and presidents puritanical, there is a true beauty and grace to this play'sŠ yes, moralŠ that people must be free to be themselves and that, as Willmore says, "a Woman's Honour is not worth guarding when she has a mind to part with it." We hope this production will help you see life through the topsy-turvy looking-glass of Carnival. Here, no one is bounded by social or gender roles, everyone is welcome to play, and all is forgiven in the end.
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