Act IV
SCENE 1.—A boarding-house dining-room richly decorated with flowers and plants. Twenty gentlemen, among whom is Mr. Tom Christopher, each accompanying a lady, one of whom is Miss Blaggs. The cloth is drawn, and dessert is on the table.
Mr. Biggs, B.A. (Tor. Univer.), on his feet.
Ah—ladies and gentlemen, here’s to our host,
And rising, as thus, to propose him a toast,
I think of the days which together
In shade, and in sunshine, as chums we have passed,
In love, and esteem, that forever must last,
Let happen what will to the weather.
In short, ladies and gentlemen, I have to propose the everlasting health and welfare of our host, who should have been our honoured guest but for that persistent pertinacity he exhibited in the matter, and which he does himself the injustice to call womanish. But I am sure, ladies and gentlemen, no one but himself ever accused our esteemed host of being womanish, and when we look upon the high standing he has achieved in our University, the honour he confers on his Alma Mater by his scholarly attainments and the gentlemanly character he has won among all sorts of students, I am sure, ladies and gentlemen, we should be doing great injustice to you all were we for one moment to admit that he could be other than he is, an honour to Toronto University, and a credit to his sex. I am quite sure the ladies are at this moment envying the happy woman whom he will at no distant date probably distinguish with his regard, and it must be satisfactory to ourselves, gentlemen, to know that it lies in our power, as the incumbents of academic honours, to be able to bestow that reversion of them on those who, having all the world at their feet, need not sigh for the fugitive conquests that demand unceasing toil and an unlimited amount of gas or coal-oil. Ladies and gentlemen, I call upon you to fill your sparkling glasses to the honour of our host and college chum, Mr. Tom Christopher. And here’s with a hip, hip, hooray! and hands all round!
All.—Hip, hip! Hurrah!
[Tremendous cheering and clinking of glasses. Several are broken, and the excitement consequently subsides.
Mr. Tom Christopher.—Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you much.
For these your loving words. A third year man,
I came upon you fresh from nowhere;
This in itself a warranty for cold
And hard suspicion; but you received
Me with some warmth, and made me one of you,
Chaffed me, and sat on me, and lent me books.
And offered pipes, and made inquiries kind
About my sisters; and Time, who takes
Men kindly by the hand, made us warm friends,
And knit us in a love all brotherly.
Many Voices.—Yes, brothers! brothers! we are brothers all!
A Voice.—And sisters!
Mr. Tom.—I would say sisters too, but that I fear
My lady guests would think I did presume;
But yet I know, and knowing it am proud,
That most men here to-night would welcome all
The sweet girl-graduates that would fill the list
Did but the College Council set aside
A foolish prejudice, and let them in.
And now, I know a girl who long has worked
To pass the exams, take the proud degree
I hold to-day, and yet her petticoat
Forbade.
Several Voices.—Name! Name! A toast! A toast!
Mr. Tom.—I will not name her, gentlemen, but bring
Her to your presence, if you so incline;
First begging that you will not let surprise
Oust self-possession, for my friend’s a girl
Of timid temper, though she’s bold to act
If duty calls.
Many Voices.—Your friend! Your friend!
Mr. Tom.—I go to fetch her, gentlemen; dear ladies all,
I beg your suffrages of gentle eyes
And kindly smile to greet my guest.
[Exit MR. TOM CHRISTOPHER.
Scene 2 — The Same
Enter MISS KATE BLOGGS in full dinner toilet of Reseda silk, and carrying a
dandelion and lily bouquet.
Miss Blaggs.—My cousin! oh, my cousin!
[Rushes excitedly forward and falls into hysterics on Miss BLOGGS’ neck. The company gather round in great surprise.
Miss B.—Dear Orphea! Orphea, my dear! oh, water, gentlemen!
Lay her upon the couch. See! see! she gasps!
Orphea, dear girl!
[The ladies are much alarmed, but Miss BLAGGS soon gives signs of recovery, and sits up.
Orphea (in tears).—Oh, Kate! it struck me so to see you once again as you were wont to be; those nasty ugly pants forever gone, and you a girl again.
Kate.—Dear friends, you look surprised.
Pray Heaven you’ll not look worse when you know all.
I am indeed a girl, though you have known
Me hitherto as Thomas Christopher.
Four years ago I passed the exams, for
Us women, at your University.
Once more I passed. But when again I would,
I stumbled for the teaching that is chained—
Like ancient scripture to the reading desk—
Within your College walls. No word of mine
Could move the flinty heads of College Council.
Order and discipline forbade, they said,
That women should sit-side by side with men
Within their walls. At church, or concert, or
At theatre, or ball, no separation’s made
Of sexes. And so I, being a girl
Of firm and independent mind, resolved
To do as many a one beside has done
For lesser prize, and, as a man, sat at
The feet of our Gamaliels until I got
The learning that I love. That I may now
Look you all in the face without a blush, save—that
Which naturally comes at having thus
To avow my hardihood, is praise, I trow,
You will not think unworthy; and to me
It forms a soft remembrance that will ever dwell
Within my grateful heart.
Can you forgive me?
Many Voices.—We do, we must. All honour to the brave!
Speak for us, Biggs.
Mr. Biggs.—I cannot speak, except to ask the lady’s pardon
For our rough ways.
Kate.—No; pardon me.
Many Voices.—No! no! we ask your pardon.
Kate.—If that, indeed, as I must need believe
From all your looks, you do not blame me much,
Endue me with a favour. It is this:—
Let every man and woman here to-night
Look out for those petitions that will soon
Be placed in many a store by those our friends
Who in this city form a ladies’ club,
And each one sign. Nay more, to show you mean
What I, with swelling heart have often heard
You strongly urge, the rights of women to
The College privileges, get all your friends
To sign. Do what your judgment charges you
To help so good a cause, and let the lists
Of 1883 have no more names
Set by themselves as women. Let us go
In numbrous strength before the Parliament,
And ask our rights in such a stirring sort,
They shall be yielded. Then I shall know
Your brotherly and pleasant words mean faith,
And shall no more regret a daring act
That else will fail of reason.
May I thus trust?
All.—You may! You may.
Kate.—Then hands all round, my friends, till break of day.