Cinderella





There was once an honest gentle man who took for his second wife a

lady, the proudest and most disagreeable in the whole country. She had

two daughters exactly like herself in all things. He also had one

little girl, who resembled her dead mother, the best woman in all the

world. Scarcely had the second marriage taken place, than the

stepmother became jealous of the good qualities of the little girl,

who was so great a contrast to her own two daughters. She gave her all

the menial occupations of the house; compelled her to wash the floors

and staircases, to dust the bed-rooms, and clean the grates; and while

her sisters occupied carpeted chambers hung with mirrors, where they

could see themselves from head to foot, this poor little damsel was

sent to sleep in an attic, on an old straw mattress, with only one

chair and not a looking-glass in the room.



She suffered all in silence, not daring to complain to her father, who

was entirely ruled by his new wife. When her daily work was done she

used to sit down in the chimney-corner among the ashes; from which the

two sisters gave her the nick-name of Cinderella. But Cinderella,

however shabbily clad, was handsomer than they were with all their

fine clothes.



It happened that the king's son gave a series of balls, to which were

invited all the rank and fashion of the city, and among the rest the

two elder sisters. They were very proud and happy, and occupied their

whole time in deciding what they should wear; a source of new trouble

to Cinderella, whose duty it was to get up their fine linen and laces,

and who never could please them however much she tried. They talked of

nothing but their clothes.



I, said the elder, shall wear my velvet gown and my trimmings of

English lace.



And I, added the younger, will have but my ordinary silk petticoat,

but I shall adorn it with an upper skirt of flowered brocade, and

shall put on my diamond tiara, which is a great deal finer than

anything of yours.



Here the elder sister grew angry, and the dispute began to run so

high, that Cinderella, who was known to have excellent taste, was

called upon to decide between them. She gave them the best advice she

could, and gently and submissively offered to dress them herself, and

especially to arrange their hair, an accomplishment in which she

excelled many a noted coiffeur. The important evening came, and she

exercised all her skill to adorn the two young ladies. While she was

combing out the elder's hair, this ill-natured girl said sharply,

Cinderella, do you not wish you were going to the ball?



Ah, madam (they obliged her always to say madam), you are only

mocking me; it is not my fortune to have any such pleasure.



You are right; people would only laugh to see a little cinder-wench

at a ball.



Any other than Cinderella would have dressed the hair all awry, but

she was good, and dressed it perfectly even and smooth, and as

prettily as she could.



The sisters had scarcely eaten for two days, and had broken a dozen

stay-laces a day, in trying to make themselves slender; but to-night

they broke a dozen more, and lost their tempers over and over again

before they had completed their toilette. When at last the happy

moment arrived, Cinderella followed them to the coach; after it had

whirled them away, she sat down by the kitchen fire and cried.



Immediately her godmother, who was a fairy, appeared beside her. What

are you crying for, my little maid?



Oh, I wish--I wish-- Her sobs stopped her.



You wish to go to the ball; isn't it so?



Cinderella nodded.



Well, then, be a good girl, and you shall go. First run into the

garden and fetch me the largest pumpkin you can find.



Cinderella did not comprehend what this had to do with her going to

the ball, but being obedient and obliging, she went. Her godmother

took the pumpkin, and having scooped out all its inside, struck it

with her wand; it became a splendid gilt coach, lined with

rose-coloured satin.



Now fetch me the mouse-trap out of the pantry, my dear.



Cinderella brought it; it contained six of the fattest, sleekest mice.

The fairy lifted up the wire door, and as each mouse ran out she

struck it and changed it into a beautiful black horse.



But what shall I do for your coachman, Cinderella?



Cinderella suggested that she had seen a large black rat in the

rat-trap, and he might do for want of better.



You are right; go and look again for him.



He was found, and the fairy made him into a most respectable coachman,

with the finest whiskers imaginable. She afterwards took six lizards

from behind the pumpkin frame, and changed them into six footmen, all

in splendid livery, who immediately jumped up behind the carriage, as

if they had been footmen all their days. Well, Cinderella, now you

can go to the ball.



What, in these clothes? said Cinderella piteously, looking down on

her ragged frock.



Her godmother laughed, and touched her also with the wand; at which

her wretched thread-bare jacket became stiff with gold, and sparkling

with jewels; her woollen petticoat lengthened into a gown of sweeping

satin, from underneath which peeped out her little feet, no longer

bare, but covered with silk stockings, and the prettiest glass

slippers in the world. Now Cinderella, depart; but remember, if you

stay one instant after midnight, your carriage will become a pumpkin,

your coachman a rat, your horses mice, and your footmen lizards; while

you yourself will be the little cinder-wench you were an hour ago.



Cinderella promised without fear, her heart was so full of joy.



Arrived at the palace, the king's son, whom some one, probably the

fairy, had told to await the coming of an uninvited princess whom

nobody knew, was standing at the entrance, ready to receive her. He

offered her his hand, and led her with the utmost courtesy through the

assembled guests, who stood aside to let her pass, whispering to one

another, Oh, how beautiful she is! It might have turned the head of

any one but poor Cinderella, who was so used to be despised, that she

took it all as if it were something happening in a dream.



Her triumph was complete; even the old king said to the queen, that

never since her majesty's young days had he seen so charming and

elegant a person. All the court ladies, scanned her eagerly, clothes

and all, determining to have theirs made next day of exactly the same

pattern. The king's son himself led her out to dance, and she danced

so gracefully that he admired her more and more. Indeed, at supper,

which was fortunately early, his admiration quite took away his

appetite. For Cinderella herself, with an involuntary shyness she

sought out her sisters; placed herself beside them and offered them

all sorts of civil attentions, which, coming as they supposed from a

stranger, and so magnificent a lady, almost overwhelmed them with

delight.



While she was talking with them, she heard the clock strike a quarter

to twelve, and making a courteous adieu to the royal family, she

re-entered her carriage, escorted tenderly by the king's son, and

arrived in safety at her own door. There she found her godmother, who

smiled approval; and of whom she begged permission to go to a second

ball, the following night, to which the queen had earnestly invited

her.



While she was talking, the two sisters were heard knocking at the

gate, and the fairy godmother vanished, leaving Cinderella sitting in

the chimney-corner, rubbing her eyes and pretending to be very sleepy.



Ah, cried the eldest sister maliciously, it has been the most

delightful ball, and there was present the most beautiful princess I

ever saw, who was so exceedingly polite to us both.



Was she? said Cinderella indifferently; and who might she be?



Nobody knows, though everybody would give their eyes to know,

especially the king's son.



Indeed! replied Cinderella, a little more interested; I should like

to see her. Miss Javotte--that was the elder sister's name--will you

not let me go to-morrow, and lend me your yellow gown that you wear on

Sundays?



What, lend my yellow gown to a cinder-wench! I am not so mad as

that; at which refusal Cinderella did not complain, for if her sister

really had lent her the gown she would have been considerably

embarrassed.



The next night came, and the two young ladies richly dressed in

different toilettes, went to the ball. Cinderella, more splendidly

attired and beautiful than ever, followed them shortly after. Now

remember twelve o'clock, was her godmother's parting speech; and she

thought she certainly should. But the prince's attentions to her were

greater even than the first evening, and in the delight of listening

to his pleasant conversation, time slipped by unperceived. While she

was sitting beside him in a lovely alcove, and looking at the moon

from under a bower of orange blossoms, she heard a clock strike the

first stroke of twelve. She started up, and fled away as lightly as a

deer.



Amazed, the prince followed, but could not catch her. Indeed he missed

his lovely princess altogether, and only saw running out of the palace

doors a little dirty lass whom he had never beheld before, and of whom

he certainly would never have taken the least notice, Cinderella

arrived at home breathless and weary, ragged and cold, without

carriage, or footmen, or coachman; the only remnant of her past

magnificence being one of her little glass slippers;--the other she

had dropped in the ball-room as she ran away.



When the two sisters returned they were full of this strange

adventure, how the beautiful lady had appeared at the ball more

beautiful than ever, and enchanted every one who looked at her; and

how as the clock was striking twelve she had suddenly risen up and

fled through the ball-room, disappearing no one knew how or where, and

dropping one of her glass slippers behind her in her flight. How the

king's son had remained inconsolable until he chanced to pick up the

little glass slipper, which he carried away in his pocket, and was

seen to take it out continually, and look at it affectionately, with

the air of a man very much in love; in fact, from his behaviour during

the remainder of the evening, all the court and royal family were

convinced that he had become desperately enamoured of the wearer of

the little glass slipper.



Cinderella listened in silence, turning her face to the kitchen fire,

and perhaps it was that which made her look so rosy, but nobody ever

noticed or admired her at home, so it did not signify, and next

morning she went to her weary work again just as before.



A few days after, the whole city was attracted by the sight of a

herald going round with a little glass slipper in his hand,

publishing, with a flourish of trumpets, that the king's son ordered

this to be fitted on the foot of every lady in the kingdom, and that

he wished to marry the lady whom it fitted best, or to whom it and the

fellow slipper belonged. Princesses, duchesses, countesses, and simple

gentlewomen all tried it on, but being a fairy slipper, it fitted

nobody and beside, nobody could produce its fellow slipper, which lay

all the time safely in the pocket of Cinderella's old linsey gown.



At last the herald came to the house of the two sisters, and though

they well knew neither of themselves was the beautiful lady, they made

every attempt to get their clumsy feet into the glass slipper, but in

vain.



Let me try it on, said Cinderella from the chimney corner.



What, you? cried the others, bursting into shouts of laughter; but

Cinderella only smiled, and held out her hand.



Her sisters could not prevent her, since the command was that every

young maiden in the city should try on the slipper, in order that no

chance might be left untried, for the prince was nearly breaking his

heart; and his father and mother were afraid that though a prince, he

would actually die for love of the beautiful unknown lady.



So the herald bade Cinderella sit down on a three-legged stool in the

kitchen, and himself put the slipper on her pretty little foot, which

it fitted exactly; she then drew from her pocket the fellow slipper,

which she also put on, and stood up--for with the touch of the magic

shoes all her dress was changed likewise--no longer the poor despised

cinder-wench, but the beautiful lady whom the king's son loved.



Her sisters recognized her at once. Filled with astonishment, mingled

with no little alarm, they threw themselves at her feet, begging her

pardon for all their former unkindness. She raised and embraced them:

told them she forgave them with all her heart, and only hoped they

would love her always. Then she departed with the herald to the king's

palace, and told her whole story to his majesty and the royal family,

who were not in the least surprised, for everybody believed in

fairies, and everybody longed to have a fairy godmother.



For the young prince, he found her more lovely and loveable than ever,

and insisted upon marrying her immediately. Cinderella never went home

again, but she sent for her two sisters to the palace, and with the

consent of all parties married them shortly after to two rich

gentlemen of the court.





Christmas Mummers' Play Cinderella facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedinmail

Feedback