Here the speaker paused for a moment. On many sides there was applause. Yet many refrained from expressing approbation, because they felt offended by Franka’s words—what did she mean by dragon? Could she mean militarism? Or the whole masculine sex? Would she like to see petticoat government established? Remarks were heard: “What idiots these feminists are!” “And she is so pretty; she certainly would not need to take up such fads!”
On the other hand, those in the audience who did not understand German were captivated by her appearance and entranced by her melodious voice. They followed the occasional gestures with which she emphasized certain phrases, and they kept their eyes fixed on her calm, white hands with their long, tapering fingers and their rosy, gleaming nails. Her tone of queenly calmness, now and again vibrating with restrained feeling, exercised on all the same charm, whether they understood her spoken word or not; and the very ones who could not understand applauded most unrestrainedly, because they detected nothing in her speech to disturb their convictions. Even De la Rochère clapped vigorously, as he assuredly would not have done if he had known what she had been pleading for: in his eyes there was nothing more ridiculous, nothing more baneful, than the object aimed at in the Feminist Movement. In his eyes “woman” was “une créature d’amour,” and this sentimentally uttered epithet was, as he believed, the highest compliment that could be given to a woman. Prince Victor Adolph found an artistic satisfaction in listening to Franka’s address. For the cause itself, he had little sympathy—it did not appeal to him.
In the Sielenburg group a painful emotion was stirred. Coriolan gave utterance to an inarticulate grunt of disapprobation; the Countess Adele sighed; Fräulein Albertine raised her eyes beseechingly to heaven; only Baron Malhof cried, with sincere warmth: “Ah, she is a splendid young creature!”
Franka proceeded: “I have indeed overpassed the limits that I once set for myself as a field of labor. I am not accustomed to plead for the conquest of professions and for attainment of political rights—all that I leave to other champions of the Woman Movement. But if these callings and rights come gradually into the hands of those of my sex, then they must know how to exercise them; they must be educated to the task. Their minds must be open and their interest must be awake to the universality of the problems of civilization: these are all correlated, and for this reason the only duty that I put before my young sisters was this: Learn how to think! But to-day, knowing that an echo from this address will be carried to the remotest circles, and therefore also to those women who stand in the van and who have already won such important strategic points,—as, for example, the women in Australia,—I felt myself compelled to drop those restrictions, in order to gaze out over the whole wide field of the Woman Question.
“And, in conclusion, I turn to the men that hear me: We demand nothing of your magnanimity. We do not come as petitioners, but as givers—for the time being as desirous of giving; for still a portion of mankind, both men and women, reject the gifts we would confer. ‘Let things remain as they are!’ this fundamental desideratum of the conservative spirit is still cherished by the majority of women. Therefore, even among them there is still a large proportion of those opposed to the Feminist Movement. Among men, on the other hand, it numbers an ever-increasing host of adherents. The admission of collective energy to the work for the elevation and enrichment of human society is a matter of equal concern to both halves. The ideal of that social condition in which brutality is to be driven out, in which gentleness, benevolence, and beauty are to become effective, is, God knows, no exclusively feminine ideal. It has swept before the vision of all the great teachers of mankind; and that is to-day also the guiding star of all those poets, thinkers, and statesmen who are yearning for a new and better day and are laboring to bring it to pass.
“All these welcome the coöperation of women as a reinforcement of their effective forces. The battle against ancient rooted evil, against the dominion of force, is truly not easy, and the men who are conducting it will only rejoice if to their aid come forth coadjutors and assistants from the ranks of that half of mankind whose most distinctive domain lies in those virtues which they are trying to diffuse.
“Aye, this is what the new Eve is to become: a coadjutor recognized as of equal value; and for this purpose must you, my young sisters, educate yourselves, and for this purpose must you, my noble brethren,”—and here she extended one hand toward her auditors,—“help and sustain us.”
She bowed and stepped back. John Toker went to meet her and shook her hand. The audience applauded vigorously.
During the social intermission following her address, Franka went down into the hall. She was surrounded, and numerous admirers—both men and, especially, women—asked to be introduced to her. She had the agreeable feeling that she had made a good impression, and this conviction was assured in her mind not so much by the warm reception given her by the public as by the silent glance and pressure of the hand whereby Chlodwig Helmer had expressed his satisfaction on the platform after she had finished.
Baron Malhof now mingled with the group that surrounded her. He offered her his arm: “Come, please. Your aunts are eager to offer you their congratulations.”