When she was building her first university, what was he doing?
Polluting himself with a gay and dissipated secret life in the company of other fast bloods, multimillionaires in money and paupers in character.

When she was building her first foundling asylum, what was he doing?
Alas! When she was projecting her noble Society for the Purifying of the Sex, what was he doing?
Ah, what, indeed! When she and the W.C.T.

U.and the Woman with the Hatchet, moving with resistless march, were sweeping the fatal bottle from the land, what was he doing?
Getting drunk three times a day.

When she, builder of a hundred cathedrals, was being gratefully welcomed and blest in papal Rome and decorated with the Golden Rose which she had so honorably earned, what was he doing?
Breaking the bank at Monte Carlo.
He stopped.

He could go no farther; he could not bear the rest.