Ha! Alidoro! Friends! (he starts wildly up) Was it then but a dream? (looking around him)

Seized with terror at your absence, we turned on our steps and—

(unheeding him) Tell me, friends, (crossing to centre) as you came on, saw you none leave this place?

(R. H.)Nothing has crossed our path this morning, save alone beasts of prey.

(aside)Then farewell happines!

(L. H.)What thus disturbs you, Prince? If we have rudely broken your repose—

Ah! that repose may prove my curse for ever!   Come hither, Alidoro—fall back, friends! (hunters retire back C.) Alidoro, my future peace is all destroyed, and I almost shame to tell it by a dream!

Of horror?

No, of rapture—while it lasted—though, like the bright sun of nature, it hath left on its departure nought but clouds and darkness. Oh! I have seen in the mirror of my fancy a creature of such surpassing loveliness, that nothing of earthly mould may equal her.

May not this fair vision, dear Prince, be only the resemblance, in sleep, of a waking admiration? Have you not somewhere seen features that, tho' forgotten for a time—

None like to her's; the eye that saw them once would stamp them on the heart for ever. Oh! if I thought such a being existed, I would search the world, and give up my throne to obtain her.

(smiling at his enthusiasm)Nay, Prince, that were more like to mar your chance than mend it. But why should it be impossible that this seeming paragon of fancy prove yet a living treasure? Your Grace's vision now recalls to my remembrance a dream that hath some touch of coincidence with your present situation, tho' I had nigh forgotten it.

Tell me of it. I'll snatch at every hope, however   wild, that will soothe my present torture.

On the first night of our return from Padua—(I must have lain in sleep, yet it seemed a rare mockery of reality)—methought a female form of fairy mould and dazzling brightness (in her small hand a rod of snowy white gemmed with the semblance of a blazing star), appeared before me—

(impetuously)I saw her in my dream—go on!

And commanded me, as I valued the happiness of this realm, to guide my sovereign to the old castle of the Baron of Montefiesco, where virtue, youth, and beauty awaited him, worthy of a throne.

The Baron's family is one of those invited to the palace to-night; and his daughters, whom, however, I never saw, are reported fair and accomplished, tho' he himself, they say, is but a pompous fool.

I would suggest to you, gracious Prince, to call at the castle on our way homeward; and, as a cover to the real cause of visit, let the ladies of Montefiesco be invited to the tourney that precedes the evening's feast, and we will conduct them to the palace as we return.

Tis well—be it so.

(to the hunters) Go on, friends, towards that castle yonder, (points L. H.) and announce the Prince's approach. (the hunters bow)

I would observe, yet be myself unnoticed; and I have bethought me of a way to escape the importunities of folly, and avoid the fatigue of ceremony. I will divest myself of my pomp awhile and lay the dull weight of royalty—even on thee, Dandini.

On me, Prince!

On thy very self. I've been told thou hast often aped the manners of the great for others' entertainment; thou shalt do so again for mine, and be as ridiculous as it may please thee.

Nay, sweet Prince, the moment I'm thought great in earnest, none will think me ridiculous. Only let me be a Prince for a week, and you will see my very faults will be deemed virtues, my awkwardness will pass for grace, my natural defects be imitated as beauties; the learned will wonder at my knowledge, the fashion-mongers will extol my manners, and the women will swear I'm a most ravishing creature!

Here, take my insignia. (gives Dandini his plumes and jewelled hat, and cloak with star on it, receiving back Dandini's cloak and hat) It is to these baubles and not to myself that the world's honor is shown. 'Tis but   for a time thou shalt possess them; I will become the wearer again shortly, and nothing will have been lost. Come, let us haste. (crosses L. H.)

(smiles) What, Sirrah! is that one of our privileges?

Certainly! what have the great to do but live by the labours of the little? If we great ones were obliged to work for ourselves, some of us would grow little enough.

Come, let us on towards this same castle. You, Alidoro, shall join the train gone forward, and announce the approach of (bowing to Dandini) your new Prince. Come on.

Stay; by your leaves—If I'm to be a Prince, you know, my dignity must not be offended. I must go first (crossing L. H.) and you must follow—ahem!

May I not then aspire to the honour, fair lady, with which his highness the Prince has flattered my hopes?

(L. C.) I think, Sir, you might know the proper distance between us better than to elevate your eyes quite so high. You may address my sister, if you like; but for a 'Squire like you to dare to think hymeneally of a woman like me—Incredible presumption! (turns up the stage)

  I must then turn my fond hopes to you, sweet lady.

Then you're a very bold man, Sir! Bless us! some people's ignorance and insolence is quite laughable—Ha, ha, ha!

The Prince's hat and cloak carry it all hollow.

Well, certainly, never was Prince so candidly treated!—Yet, hold! 'tis not the Prince but the 'Squire that they repulse. Vain triflers! ambition and pride are their only rulers! But, now that my unfavourable opinion of them is confirmed, their arrogance shall be fitly mortified. (calling loudly) Dandini! (Dandini looks round alarmed, and with a loud “Hem”! makes signs to the Prince) (laughing aside) I forgot myself— (approaching courteously) May I entreat your highness's ear! (Dandini with a condescending smile advances to Prince, R. H. C.) Hark thee, Dandini! the frolic must now end. I must strip thee of thy peacock feathers, and leave thee the jay thou wert before.

What! must I abdicate so soon?

Ay, and thou must not only descend from thy throne, but even disclose thyself to their father!

He'll break my head!

'Tis of little consequence; I care nothing for his anger; but however he may vent it, see that he quits not the palace, for his folly is so amusing, I should miss him   in our evening revels.

And so ends all Dandini's greatness! Well, I've had but a short reign certainly, yet I may say what few monarchs can, I've done no harm. Stay, though, who knows but my personal attractions may have had some tender effect upon these fair ones? Before I descend into private life, I'll see if I can't play the politician, and retire with a little advantage. (going to the Sisters) Roseate beauties, I am, you must know, rather a romantic kind of monarch, and weak enough to desire being loved for my own identical self—that is, my own mental and bodily qualities. Tell me, then, frankly, is it not rather my throne and my crown that—

(R.)How, Prince! Can you entertain such a vile opinion of me?

Or of me? Would you wound our delicacy?

Would you attack our punctilious honour?

Not even in my dreams.

As for me, were your highness the lowest of your subjects, I would still prefer you to all others.

You enchant me!

A cottage and your heart is all I desire!

Is it possible? Come, now, they're not so bad neither. Here comes the Baron. (aloud to the Sisters) Your noble father approaches, and I have a confidential communication   to make to him; so, sweetest charmers, deign to retire for a few minutes, when I will again seek your delightful company. (leading them to the L. side, he kisses their hands, and they Exeunt L.) Well, now, (with self-conceit) there must be something attractive about me, or they wouldn't both be so fond of me! I shall be puzzled which to take. But now for the poor Baron! I'm going to give his pride a terrible tumble. Well, I've had a terrible tumble myself; but I don't regret my deposition after all, for really, if there be one bore greater than another, it certainly is—

Your humble servant, Prince! Excuse my intrusion, your Highness! Pardon a father's eagerness, but my poor girls are in a perfect fever. Oh, if I could but once know which is like to be your honoured choice!

Be satisfied, Baron, my honoured choice is already made.

Already made? I shall faint with ecstacy! Oh, luminous Prince! take pity on me, and tell me— (falling on his knees) Already made! Then one of my tender saplings will take root and flourish in the royal soil.

Rise, my dear Baron, rise!

But which—which of 'em—which of the tender lambs is it to be? My sweet Clory, or my darling little Tizzy—oh, which?

But you must be silent.

I'll be dumb!

You'll be sure not to blab?

Not even the first letter of her name!

Well, then, the secret which I'm now going to impart to you—Does nobody hear us?

There isn't a fly in the room!

(R.) It's all in confidence, mind!

I'm upon thorns!

Well, then, take a seat, Baron.

Oh, dear! Oh, dear! (bringing forward two chairs) Be charitable, Prince, and end my agony.

Now, let what you hear from my mouth remain under lock and key in your bosom!

I'll get a padlock and put it on my lips.

The image of that stranger seems to be always before me! How kind his looks! How sweet his smiles! (rises) I'm sure the Prince that I saw afterwards was nothing to compare to him. Ah, me! I wish I could but see him again. My sisters are by this time enjoying themselves in all manner of happiness. Fortunate beings! Their life is a ring of joy, whilst poor I am not allowed to participate even in their smallest pleasures, but am left, after toiling hard every day, to pass my nights in solitude and sorrow. Ah! when my poor widowed mother married the Baron, she little thought her offspring would be so despised by him, and so ill-used by his first daughters.

Well, Miss Cinderella, you are as solitary as an old hermit. Poor soul! you've no delight whatever in this house except my company! I've done all my own work, Miss, and now if you'll give me leave I'll do yours also.

I thank you, Pedro, you are ever good natured; but I will finish my task myself.

Why, you're scarcely able. Here have you been on your legs now ever since five o'clock this morning!

I am accustomed to that every morning!

Whilst your lady sisters never get up before eleven or twelve.

My father says that sleep is necessary to their   health.

And isn't your health quite as valuable as theirs?

Seemingly not.

It's barbarous usage, I say; though you do bear it like a holy mortar. While your sisters are idle, you do the meanest work of the house; while they're tricked out like duchesses, you've never a gown but one, (and that's shabby enough); then you sleep on a wretched straw bed in a sorry garret, while my ladies lie in fine rooms; and lastly, while you are left moping here in a kitchen, away they are gone to jig it at the Prince's ball. Oh, I wish they may both of them get the cramp in their legs the very first dance.

That is a wicked wish, Pedro!

I can't help it. I love your little finger better than their two bodies; though they do take such precious care of them, and break so many dozen of laces to have a fine slender shape.

Do not speak against them, Pedro; they are my sisters, and my sorrow is that they do not love me.

Oh! I don't wonder at all at their not loving you, but I don't understand why your father—

My sisters have often told me that my father conceived a dislike against me in my childhood for my ugliness!

Ugliness? Come, I like that. But even suppose it was true, though I believe it's a flam of their own, doesn't   every body know that the uglier you are when young, the prettier you are when you grow up! Why, no one would believe it, but, at two years old I was quite a fright! Look at me now! I'm sure your sisters must have been born preciously handsome.

That I do not deserve their ill-treatment is my only consolation.

They're a couple of Algerine barbarians. Didn't they, to mortify you, change your own pretty name of Angelina into Cinderella, after being themselves the cause of keeping you among the cinders. Cinder-“ella”—'Gad, I wish I had the christening of them! I would round them off with an “ella” a piece as good as yours, for I'd call one of 'em Vixen-“ella!” and the other Spiteful-“ella!”

Have done, Pedro, you distress me!

Well, I'll say no more, only that your father's no angel, whatever you are. He's as unchristian and barbarous as an old blackamoor; not content this morning to disown you, but he must go and kill you, kill his own child! it's a most abominable suicide!

Let us change the subject. Pray, Pedro, did you hear who that was that came here before the Prince?

No, but I believe he was somebody, for he certainly didn't much look like nobody.

Can you keep a secret, Pedro?

Not if you tell it me; I'm like a woman, I only conceal what I don't know; and the only secret I should care to know is, when we shall be better off.

(perceiving the first inscription, L. H., with amazement) Ha! (reads aloud) “Thy woes will soon end.”

Will they?

“Thy woes will soon end.”

I wish they would.

“Thy woes will soon end.”

Well, you seem very positive of it, at all events; but I should like to see your's end at the same time! I don't know but I may do something desperate for us both yet, and if I get hanged for it—

“Thou'lt meet thy just reward!”

Thank you; much obliged to you for your good opinion. It's certainly very kind of you, Miss Cinderella, to be so candid with your friends.

Am I awake?

I should think not!

Pedro, do you see anything there?

Come, now, no tricks, Miss Cinderella; you want to frighten me, but it won't do! It's not the first time I've been alone with a woman. (turning round by degrees, he sees the letters, and begins to tremble more violently) Oh, what's that? Don't be frightened, Miss! Take example by me. I know what it is, it's only a moptical deception—it's caused by the light of the fire—I'll just poke it up a little, and you'll see it will absolve the whole mystery.

I'm very glad to see you, old granny!

I wonder if she knows it's a lie!

Cinderella, my dear, dost remember relieving a poor tattered beggar this morning that sought charity here? That pauper was myself, disguised to try thy humanity, and I have the power as well as the will to reward thee. Thou art good besides being pretty. Thou remindest me of myself at thy age, for I, too, have been young and pretty.

Dear me, granny, how times are changed with you!

Pert boy, what's old is not to be despised! But, godchild, thine eyes look red, as though thou hadst been weeping! Come, what is thy sorrow?

It's my belief, granny, you know it well enough without asking—if all's true that's said of you—ahem!

Thou hast a wish agitating thy little heart!

True, godmother, I won't hide it from you—I'm very miserable!

I wish I could—I wish I could—

Thou wishest thou could'st go to the Prince's ball—is it not so?

Y—es.

There now, I knew she could tell.

Well, well! be still a good girl, and I will contrive that thou shalt go.

How?

Eh!

It is to-night, godmother!

I know it, child; and thou shalt be there presently!

I hope she is not going to play off any of her devil's tricks.

Nay, godmother, even if you could take me there, I dare not go; for if my sisters saw me—

Thy sisters and thy father shall see thee, yet only wonder at thy likeness, without recognizing thee!

How, godmother? if you can do that, you must surely be a witch.

That's a plumper!

My child, that is an uncouth word, and it befits not me; I am somewhat more of a fairy.

Fairy with an old crutch! I wonder where she has left her broomstick?—Top of the chimney, I dare say.

But come, let us haste! Time is flying fast, and the ball will soon begin—Pedro—

Eh!

Run into the garden and bring me a pumpkin.

A what?

A pumpkin.

Eh?

Away, or I'll turn thee into one.

Oh, la! I'm gone!

Thou wilt wonder at thy godmother's power, Cinderella; but it is only on rare occasions, and for the good, that I display my magic skill.

Well, I wonder what a pumpkin has to do with making her go to the ball—Ha! ha! ha!

Lay it on the dresser;—I'll make room for thee to sit in it, Cinderella.

Ha! ha! ha! She's going to roll to the ball inside a pumpkin. Ha! ha! ha!

Yes, Pedro, this pumpkin shall become a coach for thy mistress.

What if it does? what is a coach without horses?

Horses shall not be wanting; the tiny prisoners in yonder mouse trap will form noble steeds, and be glad of their freedom in any shape.

What? make horses of the mice? Ha! ha! ha what an elegant turn out it will be! (aside) She wants to make game of us; I'll humour her.

But, godmother,—horses can't go by themselves; what must we do for a coachman?

  I have it—Since you are going to transmogrify the mice into horses,—I'll go and see if there's a rat in the rat trap; you may make a coachman of him.

Thou art in the right; go and look.

Here's a rat! with a beard like a Turk! he'll make a jolly coachman; he'll have the smartest whiskers eyes ever beheld;—never shaved since he was born.

And hark thee,—fetch hither the three garden pots, wherein there are just now three lizards,—they shall serve for footmen.

In a nice green livery. Ha! ha! ha! what fun!

Thou shalt this night repay all thy sisters' ill to thee.

Nay, god-mother,—I don't wish that; I should be sorry to see them grieved.

What? canst thou forgive them? Excellent heart! Thou art goodness itself, and I serve thee with real pleasure.

Here are the garden pots with the lizards; and perhaps, with your help, Granny, they'll make smart lacqueys.

Thou art a good judge, Pedro!

Ha! ha! ha! what a deal of pudding and cheese he must have stolen!

(bowing in return) Your most humble servant, gentlemen. You won't turn me out of my place, I hope? 'Ecod, I'd better keep out of the reach of her crutch; since she can change a lizard into a footman, she may transmogrify a respectable serving man into a frog. (Footmen and Coachman get behind to L. H.)

Well, Cinderella, are not these servants fit to attend thee to the ball? Are you not pleased with them?

Oh, nothing can be better! But ah! godmother, must I go thither as I am, in these shabby old clothes?

That, too, shall be remedied. Disappear, and appear!

(seeing change) Eh! What!—Is it? No—yes, it is! (to Cinderella) Oh, beautiful mistress! (to Fairy Queen) Oh, you good old soul!—la! I wish I had such a grandmother or such a crutch—it should never be idle!

(crosses C.) Thou shalt not be forgotten, faithful Pedro. First, with these magic glass slippers adorn thy lady's feet.

(hastily obeying) Magic slippers! Oh you enchanting old creature! There! And now, dear lady, you'll travel like a Princess and have grand servants to attend you. (crossing to L.) Look you here at these lizard gentlemen! Here are fine liveries for you! Yet, with all their grandeur, there's one thing certain, which is—they none of 'em can love you half so well as poor humble Pedro.

Thy honesty and goodness shall win thee a pleasing office; the attendant and protector of thy beloved mistress do thou go with her, and, in befitting garments, appear a lofty lord!

I feel a lord all over! (struts about)

But now to complete my work, and fulfil my promise.—Pedro, look into the mouse trap and see if you find not two mice.

(behind to R. H.) Here it is, granny, and sure enough two little mice are in it—pretty creatures!

Let them run out.

What!

Obey me.

Here goes! take care of your legs! (opens trap, mice run from it under dresser. The dresser instantly becomes a splendid chariot with two white ponies, and the Coachman and Lacqueys immediately take their places. At the same time the scene draws and discovers all the Sylphs and Fairies of the first act, holding flambeaus in their hands— some surround the chariot, while others form divers groups, and fill the stage. The outside of the Baron's old castle is seen nigh, and at a great distance the Prince's Palace brilliantly illuminated. The moon and torches alone light the scene)

Oh, wonderful godmother! wonderful mice! and wonderful pumpkin!

Now, Cinderella, know me for my true self, not alone thy god-mother, but also the Queen of the Fairies!

My generous protectress!—Ha! what a change pervades my frame! (raising her head gracefully, and changing her entire manner) I feel a new existence—I am no longer the same—Hence to my chariot!

Stay, one last injunction to thee, and no more; but observe it well, or beware the consequence! Pedro,   attend thou likewise to my words, as thou art her guardian knight. (impressively and distinctly) Before the midnight hour shall strike, Cinderella, be sure thou art returned, as thou dost value my future friendship!

Before midnight?

Aye, before midnight! Forget my commands, and the hour once struck, thy finery shall change to thine old rags again, thy rich attendants vanish, and thy chariot, coachman, and footmen retake their original forms.

What a sight we should be then!

Remember!

(exultingly) Oh fear me not! Though every temptation surround my delighted steps, I will not forget thy words. Oh! I am wild with joy!

(rising and coming forward) I look in every face in vain! Though many are fair, and many are beautiful, alas! the bright semblance of the loveliest vision mortal e'er was blessed with meets not my anxious eyes! The hated period my soul shrinks from in disgust is fast approaching, yet, cannot I behold the woman that my heart can incline to! All are panting for the Prince's crown, they seek not a husband's heart!

(advancing to the Prince) Noble Prince, shall the dance proceed?

Ay, good Baron. (retires to his throne with Alidoro)

(aside) His Highness looks melancholy; one of my daughters is certainly in his head. I'll call them both out presently, and make them exhibit their fascinating graces. Ho, on with the dance! (a fancy dance; at the end of it a trumpet is heard to sound, and a Page, entering by the glass folding doors, approaches the throne and kneels)

Gracious Prince, a beauteous Princess, whose name we know not, is just arrived.

(rising) My Lord Baron, marshal the royal   stranger to our presence.

(to Thisbe) A Princess! without a name? Who can she be?

Another rival!—I hope she's ugly!

Oh, rapture! Fate has now blessed me, and my contented soul images no greater bliss!

(aside) He the Prince? Delightful moment!

(coming forward, L.H.) How beautiful a form!

Do you think so? Well, I really don't see anything so particular in it.

Will not that envious veil fully removed permit my eyes to feast upon your beauty? (attempting to lift her veil, which she refuses to remove)

(to Thisbe) Her face can't be any great things, or she wouldn't hide it!

(with tender entreaty) Oh, disperse that shady cloud, that seems jealous of my happiness!

Ah, I have never loved till now!

Dear confession! My heart is so agitated, I cannot speak to him!

(aside to Clorinda and Thisbe) Don't be uneasy, my dears; she's not at all like you.

(to Cinderella) Will you permit me, lovely Princess—

(aside) Princess!

To ask your name?

(aside) Oh, dear! I forgot to ask the Fairy my name!

Silent! Oh, say what nation is so blessed as to receive your laws; tell me but in what kingdom stands your throne?

(aside) If he but knew what an humble throne mine is!

Still dumb? Incomparable woman! your matchless qualities enhance your charms! Oh, let my daring hand thus remove the darkness that wrongs your beauty? (he withdraws her veil and seems enraptured with her countenance)

(aside to Thisbe) Why, bless my heart! Did you ever see—

(to Clorinda) What a likeness!

(aside) Well, if I wasn't sure that it isn't, I should think that it was, Cinderella—the likeness is so striking, it almost knocks me down! (goes a little up)

(aside, beholding her sisters) There they are, but they cannot recognize me. Let me resume my confidence.   (to the Prince) Noble Prince, who are those amiable ladies?

(advancing) My amiable daughters.

Goodness and beauty embellish their features! May I be permitted to embrace them? (passing between her sisters)

Oh, Princess, you do them honour!

(to her sisters) I feel my heart would willingly gain your affection.

Your Highness's kind favour to us, strangers as we are—

Nay, I have known you long—by report. Will you accept of my friendship? (the Prince communes with Alidoro)

We shall esteem ourselves but too happy—

Delighted!

(approaching her father) My Lord Baron, have you other children?

No, your Highness. Fate has only allowed me two.

(with feeling) May constant happiness be their portion and yours. (the two sisters go up R. H.)

Ah, lady! what a noble heart is yours! How proud must be the father who has the honour to call you his.

You are mistaken. (with melancholy) Alas! My father disowns me!

Disowns you? What a brute! (goes up)

(advancing to Cinderella) Princess, permit me thus to offer my homage, and attend you. On with the feast.

Hollo! Stop! stop! (he picks up the pumpkin and puts it under his arm) So! Here we are again, and a pretty business we've made of it.

Well, Miss Cinderella, 'gad, but the Fairy kept her word with us, though we weren't so particular with her. Our companions, too, were more punctual; for I see coachee and ponies are all snugly at home again before us. Well, one good turn deserves another. I ran before the coach all the way there, and the coach has run before me all the way back.

My happiness made me forget my duty.

It can't be helped now; we shall remember twelve o'clock, when it strikes again. I'll take every care of the carriage, however; and I only hope we shan't be out of rats against the next ball.

'Tis well that our misfortune has not been greater.

Why, I don't know how it could have been greater, except we had been turned into a couple of rabbits and caught for supper. I have been very nicely handled, for my part! Whilst I had a fine outside every one was civil; but the moment I lost that, they treated me with no more ceremony than you would treat a fox in a henroost. There's your great people for you! Bless their manners! Then,   —like master, like man,—when the servants got me, they made a foot-ball of me for half an hour; when they sent me bounding out of doors in such style, that I don't think I should have stopped till now, if I hadn't fallen over our carriage here. And have you lost all your finery too, Miss Cinderella? Eh! why, I declare (seeing on her foot one of the glass slippers) No! one of your little glass slippers has stuck to you.

(looking down with surprise) Is it possible?

How comes the other to be gone?

Now I remember, I tripped in my haste, and it fell off in the ball-room.

Dear, dear! How unfortunate! It's plain that the Fairy Queen must have made you a present of them, and to go and spoil the pair by losing one! We shall never get a match to it now. I defy all the glass-blowers in the world to make its fellow.

Oh! all my good fortune is for ever lost!

No! no! dear lady! It's only the slipper that's lost. I wish the Fairy would turn me into one for your pretty foot! However, I advise you to take that one off before your father and sisters come home; though I suppose they intend to make a night of it all day; for 'tis morning already! Pray, Miss Cinderella, how did you find your way home?

I scarcely know. The way seemed to me as though it never would end.

That's exactly what it seemed to me, though I'm sure I ran as fast as any rat of 'em all. I got out just in time to see the pumpkin turning a corner, and after it I ran like mad! Oh, if the dear good Fairy would only patronize us once more! I'll just blow-in the fire a little, perhaps she may favour us again by dropping down the chimney. (blowing the fire and singing) “Morning is dawning brightly, love,” “Then prithee, come down, come down!” (shaking his head) No, she won't come down.

(without L.H.) Pedro!

(without L.) Pedro! Cinderella!

(without L.) Cinderella!

There they are;—Let me run up stairs first to them, I dare say we shall hear a fine account of ourselves.                                         Exeunt, L.

What's the reason, sirrah, you were not at the door to receive us? 'Tis not so early but you might have risen three hours ago, and watched for us.

I have not risen at all to day, Master, for I never lay down, neither I nor Miss Cinderella.

Miss, indeed!

I'm sure I never call her anything else, Miss.

Go and call Miss here, then.

Poor soul! she hasn't stirred from the chimney corner all night, no! no more than myself. I hope you enjoyed yourself at the ball, Baron?

(ill temperedly) What's that to you, you inquisitive rascal?

I should have thought it likely from all the capers you practised yesterday.

Begone, you impudent dog, or my cane shall practise a caper upon your head! Get out, you ugly varlet, or I shall lose my patience!

Don't do that, Sir, you've so little, it would be a pity to part with it.

The Baron shall part with you though, and a good riddance we shall all have of you. Begone! and call Cinderella. Oh, here she comes.

(aside to Cinderella) My dear young lady, find   out if they smoked the rats and the pumpkin.                                         Exit L.H.

So you're there! I think you might have kept awake, forsooth, till our return!

It's no wonder I should tire, considering how long you have staid.

Ah! if you had been at the ball, you would have been as little tired as we are. Oh! we had a gay time of it, and there came thither the finest Princess, the most beautiful ever seen with mortal eyes!

(crosses to Thisbe) A Princess!

Yes, and she was so taken with us that she shewed us a thousand civilities.

And pray, what was the name of this Princess, sister,—I mean—Miss Thisbe?

That nobody knows; and what's more, she left the palace immediately the clock struck twelve, in such a singular way, that nobody can tell what became of her.

Indeed!

And what is quite as singular, my dears, it seems that the guards at the palace gates said nobody had gone out, but a young girl, who looked more like a poor country wench than a gentlewoman.

The only trace they found of her was a little glass slipper, which she let fall as she hastened away.

(anxiously) A glass—slipper!

It is to be sure the prettiest little thing.—one would suppose it had been worked by the hand of fairies.

Oh! such news! such news! such wonderful news!

(hastily) Is the Prince come again?—

No—not the Prince exactly, but a royal post! and he has brought us this copy of a proclamation which he says is now being proclaimed through the city by sound of trumpet and drum.

A proclamation?

Yes; the post ran away the moment he left it, because he had more to deliver, and when I opened it I found—

What?

I could make nothing of it.

Why?

Because I can't read.

Let me see it. (takes paper)

No, papa, let me. (snatching it)

I'm the eldest, Miss, and must see it first. (snatches it away)

Not before me. (snatches again at it, and tears the paper in half.)

(each holding up a piece reproachfully) There!

There! There's a proclamation a piece now.

How now, girls! what's the meaning of this—   vivacity? By the beards of my ancestors, I've a great mind to grow into a passion.

Well, there, papa, you shall read it first. (gives Baron her piece)

Yes, there, Sir. (gives Baron the other piece)

Read it first? How the devil am I to read it at all now? (puts papers together) Stay—that's it.

Now for it.

Silence! (reads) “Proclamation by Supreme Command”—

Just what the royal post said!

Hold your peace, sirrah! (reads) —“We, Felix the First, ruler of this Principality, do hereby make known that we will take to wife, and share our heart and throne with her whom the glassy slipper found at our last night's ball shall fit”—

Eh!

(reading) “Felix, Princeps—Given under our Royal Seal at our Palace this”—

(interrupting) Marry her whom the slipper shall fit! (looks at her foot) Let's go back directly, Sir.

Oh! yes, yes! let's make haste, papa!

(aside with emotion) Have I heard rightly!

I'm perfectly sure it will fit me, if a pretty foot is to carry it.

(aside) There must be nice paring down of nails if   it does!

Which is my smallest foot, Pedro?

Why, that's rather a puzzling question, Miss; for I don't think one's smaller than the other—they're both a nice size.

You think, then, I shall get the slipper on?

I think, Miss, that if you try, you'll be very likely to put your foot in it.

(to Baron) Oh, Sir, may I not be permitted to go with you this time?

You? The girl is mad!

You? ha! ha! ha! What insolence! Perhaps you would like to try the slipper too?

Ha! ha! ha! that would be a sight! The Princess Cinderella! ha! ha! ha! I wonder what people would think if they were to see such a creature as you with us!

I would tell them that I was your servant, and it would be but the truth.

I am thinking, though, what in the name of wonder the Prince will do, if this curious trial should prove of no avail.

Perhaps, in that case, he'll marry the slipper!

Come, let us make haste back to the Palace. I'm quite certain one of ye will be a Queen yet—yes, yes,   I didn't dream I was an ass for nothing.

Good bye, Princess Cinderella! Ha, ha, ha!

Adieu your Highness! Ha, ha, ha!

(mocking their laughing) Hish! hish! hish! Devil take your sniggering!

(dejectedly) Well, Pedro, must I stay behind them?

Stay behind them? not a minute. If you stay behind any one it shall be behind me, for I'll put a pillion on the blind mare, and we'll trot away after them.

Ah! but Pedro—this mean dress, this wretched appearance—

It doesn't matter for your dress, all that's wanted is the length of your foot.

But I shall be refused a trial.

Not when they look in your face. Only give them a smile, and point out your toe, and you're sure to kick down all objections. Besides, I'll announce you myself to the Prince—that I will. He thought me a nobleman, you know, the last time he saw my figure; now that it's less covered with finery, he'll see it plainer, and I've no doubt he'll think me an ambassador in disguise.

Well, Pedro, I will venture, and if the Fairy disappoints my hopes, I can but die.

Die! If ever I saw you do such a foolish thing, I'd never forgive you. Die, indeed! Mind my prophetic   words:—You'll live yet to be a Princess renowned in universal history books! Such a Princess as there never was before, and never will be again! And, Miss Cinderella, when you have changed your chimney stool for a princely throne, and have learned the hocus pocus of making lords and such kind of gentry, don't neglect to give poor Pedro a turn, and my arms, and those of my noble family, shall be ever after a pumpkin supported by two rats! Come along, put your shoe in your pocket, and hey for the pillion and the blind mare!

(relieved by the unsuccessful attempt) My heart is lightened of its fears. Though I have ta'en this way to discover, if possible, the lovely owner of this curious toy, it were a cruel torture to my heart, if chance destroyed my hopes!

The Baron and the Ladies of Pumpolino are in the ante-chamber.

(coldly) Admit them. (Exit Page, L.H.) I dread the trial, (to Alidoro) lest vanity and insolence should claim my hand.

Baron, and gentle ladies, well are ye come. The trial you are apprised of is in our presence, and you, Baron, may superintend your daughters' essay with our free leave.

Gracious Prince, that is assuredly to me and to my daughters, as well as to my daughters and to me, a most flattering and considerate indulgence.

(simpering) Sweet Prince, if fated by Fortune my foot should fit—

Your foot, sister!—your foot's like a— (passes Thisbe and curtseys to Prince) 'Tis for me I've no doubt, Prince, the honour is reserved.

(coldly) The event, Madam, will show.

Now, daughters (takes slipper and kneels on cushion)

I'm quite ready, Sir. (runs before Clorinda to pedestal)

Forward little minx! She's always the first!

(looks at the slipper) Bless me, what a little thing it is!

(trying to force on the slipper, aside to her) Make your foot small!

(shrinking) Oh dear me! it will never go on!

(exulting) I thought so!

What the plague have you got in your stocking?

My foot is too long, Pa!

Where the deuce is your heel? (the Baron forces the slipper violently; Thisbe screams, and comes down disappointed and limping)

(triumphantly) I knew how it would be, sister. simpering and curtseying to Prince) I'm convinced by the size it's just my measure. (ascends the pedestal) Now, Sir! The Baron, with the slipper, makes an effort evidently painful to Clorinda. Oh! gently, Papa! La! you're so awkward!

Awkward, indeed! (pushes slipper again)

(making a grimace) Oh! do you want to cripple me, Sir?

Never mind, child: the honour of being a Princess is well worth a lame foot. (aloud suddenly) There! it's on!

(starts up) How!

All but the heel! (the Prince sits down) Courage, my dear. (pushing slipper again)

(screams) Oh! I can't bear it any more—the slipper's too short.

No, my dear—it's your foot that's too long— (with a violent and final push)

Ah! (screams loudly and descends enraged)

(trimphantly) I knew how it would be, sister. (laughs)

(aside) If I could only have foreseen this thirty years ago, they should both have had Chinese treatment.

(aside) Fortune! again I thank thee!

(without L.H.) You must not advance.

(without L.H.) Nonsense, I will advance.

Stand back, I say!

I won't go back!

What noise is that?

I'll have my say out, if I die for it. Enter Pedro, L.H. Noble Prince!

What insolence is this? Hence, fellow, or—

Stay! What seek you in this place, friend?

Most magnificent, extravagant, and dreadful Prince, whose countenance is shocking to your subjects, and frightful to all the world beside, you'll do right to hear me first, and turn me out afterwards.

(aside to Clorinda and Thisbe) May I become a commoner if it isn't that villain, Pedro! What wants he here?

(rises) The business that brings me here is, to try   the slipper— (all laugh) —not myself; but I ask the trial for one whose ambassador I come. She waits your Highness's tremendous permission to be allowed to—to show her foot here, and—and that's all.

Simple fool! Darest thou imagine—

Noble gentleman, I don't address myself to you, nor to any creature here. I speak only to the throne.

(laughs) Noble ambassador, conduct thy fair mistress before us.

Great Prince, I will.                                         Exit pompously L.

My honoured Prince, your good nature serves but to encourage annoyance.

Nay, Alidoro, hinder me not because I am a Prince, from acting sometimes like a man. Condescension and humanity to our inferiors become all ranks.

(retiring to his seat) Bitter disappointment!

(aside to Pedro) I tremble, Pedro! Did you see his looks?

(aside to her) Don't mind his looks. Consider he's a Prince, and has a right to look as he likes.

(aside) My eyes surely must be enchanted! 'tis Cinderella!

(aside) What assurance!

(aside) She shall starve a whole week for this insolence!

(aside to Cinderella) Come, now, keep your little   heart up. I'll introduce you to him. Ahem! (to Prince) Most extensive Prince! Ahem! I am—I am—nobody— (becoming nervous) —and all that I can presume to say is— nothing! Speak, lady, and don't be afraid. (passes her over to R.)

(aside) Alas! he has forgotten my features, or his affection has turned to dislike. Gracious Prince, I humbly venture into your presence to—to—

(prompting her) Try on—

Try on—

The slip— (loudly) —slipper, your Princely Highness.

Thou—ah! now I observe thy face— (rises) Thou art—thou art— (aloud, hastily) Baron!

(runs forward) My Prince!

You know this female?

(vexed and confused) I know—that is, I have seen — (aside to Cinderella) I'll make you pay for this!

Is she not your pretty servant?

Noble Prince, I—I can scarcely say what she is.

No, it's I that am his pretty servant, my Lord; but as for this sweet young—

(hastily aside to him) Speak, and I'll murder you!

Alidoro! (the Prince converses apart with Alidoro respecting Cinderella's features)

(apart to Pedro) Be silent, and you shall be rewarded.

(to Baron) I won't be silent, and I won't be rewarded. You killed the dear creature once already yesterday,   and I won't be a participator in such suicide. (the Baron drives Pedro up the stage threatening him with his cane)

(mildly to Cinderella) Thou hast a face of beauty, fair maiden, like to her that—We'll not deny thee thy boon. Ascend the pedestal and try thy fortune— though heaven forefend thy triumph! (half aside)

(aside rubbing his hands) Now for it! Oh, princely Fairy, no tricks.

(leads Cinderella to the Prince) Prince, let thy constancy now receive its full recompence.

Wonder and delight enwrap my soul!

My pleasing task is done. Sweet Cinderella, thou hast been humble in adversity: be modest now in greatness!

Oh! happy Cinderella!—How has my fate changed from what I once deemed lasting misery to transporting bliss!