Swetnam, the Woman-hater, arraigned by women: A new comedie, acted at the Red Bull, by the late Queenes seruants

In Short

This curious 1620 comedy is a direct response to a real-life pamphlet written by Joseph Swetnam, an infamous misogynist of the era. The play depicts a fictional court where the women of Sicily—angered by the slanders of a character based on Swetnam—put the "woman-hater" on trial. While the plot involves royal tragedy, forbidden love, and political intrigue, the heart of the work lies in its meta-theatrical defense of women. It is a rare, spirited artifact of Early Modern gender warfare that uses laughter as its primary weapon against prejudice.

The Story

The narrative begins in Sicily, where King Atticus mourns his missing son, Lorenzo, and becomes obsessed with the perceived "wantonness" of his daughter, the Princess Leonida. Paranoid and controlling, the King appoints the duplicitous Lord Nicanor as her guardian, effectively imprisoning her. Nicanor, harboring secret political ambitions to usurp the throne, hopes to manipulate Leonida into marriage to solidify his claim, even as he secretly serves the King’s interests.

Meanwhile, Prince Lisandro of Naples—a rival suitor—arrives in disguise, masquerading as a friar to bypass Nicanor’s blockade and reach Leonida. The two lovers succeed in their deception, but their illicit connection is eventually discovered. When hauled before the King, both Leonida and Lisandro, in an act of noble devotion, attempt to claim full responsibility for the "crime" to protect the other from execution. The King, blinded by pride and rigid dogma, refuses to see their love as anything but a threat to his authority. He sentences his daughter to death, an act that results in Lisandro’s tragic suicide.

Running parallel to this royal drama is the arrival of a character named Swetnam (or Misogynos), a bitter, loud-mouthed misogynist who loudly broadcasts his hatred of women. His hateful rhetoric acts as a catalyst for the play's secondary arc: the women of the court, led by the astute Atlanta, decide that they have heard enough. They organize their own "female court," capturing Swetnam and putting him on trial for his defamatory pamphlets.

As the play nears its end, the King is forced to confront the wreckage of his own tyranny. Through a staged "mask" or performance orchestrated by his subjects, he finally recognizes that his own "wilful ignorance" and "false suspicion" were the true sources of the catastrophe, not the actions of his daughter or her lover. The King experiences a profound, if late, realization of his errors. The play concludes with a final bit of poetic justice: Swetnam, now thoroughly defeated and muzzled, is dragged before the women to face final judgment. He is forced to recant his hateful views, pledging his sword and service to the very people he once maligned.

How It Unfolds

The King’s suspicion King Atticus, grief-stricken over his lost son, becomes convinced that his daughter, Leonida, is fickle and dangerous. He places her under the guard of Lord Nicanor, initiating a cycle of isolation and domestic surveillance.

The friar’s deception Lisandro, the Prince of Naples, assumes the disguise of a friar to penetrate Nicanor’s defenses and visit the imprisoned princess. This trick works perfectly, allowing the lovers to communicate, but the deception is eventually exposed to the court.

The trial of love Both Leonida and Lisandro appear before the King, where they engage in a contest of self-sacrifice, each begging the King to execute them instead of the other. The King remains unmoved by their devotion and proceeds with a death sentence.

The woman-hater’s hubris Swetnam arrives on the scene, eager to act as a champion for men against women in a public debate. He revels in his own vitriol, unaware that his public railings have made him a primary target for the women of the court.

The women’s court Atlanta organizes a tribunal of women who seize Swetnam and force him into a mock trial. They systematically dismantle his arguments, exposing his malice as an affront to civil society.

The final reckoning The King undergoes a spiritual and moral breakdown when confronted by a performance that mirrors his own cruelty. He acknowledges his role in the death of the lovers, while Swetnam is finally forced to submit to his accusers.

The People

King Atticus is the central embodiment of patriarchal authority; he fears losing control of his state and his daughter, and his rigid, unyielding version of "justice" serves as the primary engine of the play’s tragedy.

Leonida is the play’s emotional anchor. While her father views her as a "froward elf," she demonstrates constant courage and a commitment to love that surpasses the King’s sense of duty.

Lisandro is the devoted prince whose willingness to die for Leonida exposes the King’s moral bankruptcy; his tragic end serves as the ultimate indictment of the King’s tyranny.

Nicanor acts as the villainous architect of the King’s misfortune. He is a master of double-dealing who attempts to exploit the King’s paranoia for his own gain, though he ultimately finds himself unable to control the shifting tides of the court.

Swetnam (Misogynos) is the cartoonish, hateful antagonist. He is a man who builds his identity on the hatred of others, yet he lacks the fortitude to stand by his beliefs when he is physically and legally cornered by those he insults.

Atlanta is the intellectual leader of the female resistance. She is articulate, strategic, and the primary agent in transforming the women’s frustration into a formal, legal response to the insults they have endured.

In Its Own Voice

The prologue sets the stage for the conflict, asserting that the women will not be cowed by the public slander aimed at them:

’Tis we poore women, that must stand the brunt Of this dayes try all: we are all accused.

The misogynist Swetnam, in his own voice, reveals the depth of his absurdity and his utter refusal to see women as anything but tools for his own cynical amusement:

A woman! she’s an Angell at ten, a Saint at fifteene, A Deuill at fortie, and a Witch at fourescore.

Atlanta counters this with a sharp, blistering critique of how men use performance and feigned emotion to seduce and betray women:

Lust tempteth Beautie: Witnesse the vowes, the oaths, the protestations, And Crocodile teares of base dissembling men.

What It's Really About

At its core, this is a play about the power of language to construct—and destroy—social reality. It interrogates the thin line between "justice" and "tyranny" within the patriarchal family structure. By positioning the King’s personal paranoia as the root cause of his kingdom’s collapse, the author suggests that a ruler who cannot respect the autonomy of women is fundamentally unfit to govern. The central question is not merely whether men or women are "worse," but whether a society can survive when it elevates the loud, hateful rhetoric of men like Swetnam over the humanity of the women they target.

Why Read It Today

Readers today will find this play to be a surprisingly modern artifact. It feels like a precursor to contemporary debates about gendered rhetoric and the public policing of women’s bodies and behavior. It is a work of high irony: the author takes a real-world, deeply tedious misogynist pamphlet and turns it into a source of ridicule.

The prose is vintage 17th-century, which may require a moment of adjustment for those unaccustomed to the period’s rhythmic, elevated dialogue. However, the play rewards the effort. It is not a subtle work; it is loud, confrontational, and deeply invested in the idea that women have a right to hold their detractors to account. You will likely walk away struck by how little the core arguments of gender warfare have changed in four hundred years. It remains a bracing, often funny experience to watch the characters dismantle a bully’s "logic" in real-time. For anyone interested in the history of resistance literature or the ways theater has been used to push back against societal prejudice, this is a sharp, essential, and ultimately satisfying read.