CINDERELLA (_suddenly struck by the idea_). You’re kind of like him.
(_He goes away. She sits down on the step to wait. She
shivers. She takes the muffler off her neck and winds it
round her more valuable feet. She falls asleep._
_Darkness comes, and snow. From somewhere behind, the
shadowy figure of_ CINDERELLA’S _Godmother, beautiful in
a Red Cross Nurse’s uniform, is seen looking benignantly
on the waif_. CINDERELLA _is just a little vague, huddled
form—there is no movement_.)
GODMOTHER. Cinderella, my little godchild!
CINDERELLA (_with eyes unopening_). Is that you, Godmother?
GODMOTHER. It is I; my poor god-daughter is all mixed up, and I
have come to help her out.
CINDERELLA. You have been long in coming. I very near gave you up.
GODMOTHER. Sweetheart, I couldn’t come sooner, because in these
days, you know, even the fairy godmother is with the Red Cross.
CINDERELLA. Was that the reason? I see now; I thought perhaps you
kept away because I wasn’t a good girl.
GODMOTHER. You have been a good brave girl; I am well pleased with
my darling godchild.
CINDERELLA. It is fine to be called darling; it heats me up. I’ve
been wearying for it, Godmother. Life’s a kind of hard.
GODMOTHER. It will always be hard to you, Cinderella. I can’t
promise you anything else.
CINDERELLA. I don’t suppose I could have my three wishes, Godmother.
GODMOTHER. I am not very powerful in these days, Cinderella; but
what are your wishes?
CINDERELLA. I would like fine to have my ball, Godmother.
GODMOTHER. You shall have your ball.
CINDERELLA. I would like to nurse the wounded.
GODMOTHER. You shall nurse the wounded.
CINDERELLA. I would like to be loved by the man of my choice,
Godmother.
GODMOTHER. You shall be loved by the man of your choice.
CINDERELLA. Thank you kindly. The ball first, if you please, and
could you squeeze in the children so that they may see me in my
glory.
GODMOTHER. Now let this be my downtrodden godchild’s ball, not as
balls are, but as they are conceived to be in a little chamber in
Cinderella’s head.
(_She fades from sight. In the awful stillness we can
now hear the tiny clatter of horses infinitely small and
infinitely far off. It is the equipage of_ CINDERELLA.
_Then an unearthly trumpet sounds thrice, and the darkness
is blown away._
_It is the night of the most celebrated ball in history,
and we see it through our heroine’s eyes. She has, as it
were, made everything with her own hands, from the cloths
of gold to the ices._
_Nearly everything in the ball-room is of gold: it was
only with an effort that she checked herself from dabbing
gold on the regal countenances. You can see that she has
not passed by gin-palaces without thinking about them.
The walls and furniture are so golden that you have but
to lean against them to acquire a competency. There is a
golden throne with gold cloths on it, and the royal seats
are three golden rocking chairs; there would be a fourth
golden rocking chair if it were not that_ CINDERELLA _does
not want you to guess where she is to sit. These chairs
are stuffed to a golden corpulency. The panoply of the
throne is about twenty feet high—each foot of pure gold;
and nested on the top of it is a golden reproduction of
the grandest thing_ CINDERELLA _has ever seen—the private
box of a theatre. In this box sit, wriggle, and sprawl
the four children in their nightgowns, leaning over the
golden parapet as if to the manner born and carelessly
kicking nuggets out of it. They are shouting, pointing, and
otherwise behaving badly, eating oranges out of paper bags,
then blowing out the bags and bursting them. The superb
scene is lit by four street lamps with red glass. Dancing
is going on: the ladies all in white, the gentlemen in
black with swords. If you were unused to royal balls you
would think every one of these people was worth describing
separately; but, compared to what is coming, it may be said
that_ CINDERELLA _has merely pushed them on with her lovely
foot. They are her idea of courtiers, and have anxious
expressions as if they knew she was watching them. They
have character in the lump, if we may put it that way,
but none individually. Thus one cannot smile or sigh, for
instance, without all the others smiling or sighing. At
night they probably sleep in two large beds, one for ladies
and one for gentlemen, and if one of the ladies, say, wants
to turn round, she gives the signal, and they all turn
simultaneously. As children they were not like this; they
had genuine personal traits, but these have gradually been
blotted out as they basked in royal favour; thus, if the_
KING _wipes his glasses they all pretend that their glasses
need wiping, and when the_ QUEEN _lets her handkerchief
fall they all stoop loyally to pick up their own_.
_Down the golden steps at the back comes the_ LORD MAYOR,
_easily recognisable by his enormous chain_.)
LORD MAYOR. O yes, O yes, make way everyone for the Lord
Mayor—namely myself.
(_They all make way for him. Two black boys fling open
lovely curtains._)
O yes, O yes, make way every one, and also myself, for Lord Times.
(_This is a magnificent person created by_ CINDERELLA _on
learning from_ MR. BODIE _that the press is all powerful
and that the ‘Times’ is the press. He carries one hand
behind his back, as if it might be too risky to show the
whole of himself at once, and it is noticeable that as he
walks his feet do not quite touch the ground. He is the
only person who is not a little staggered by the amount
of gold: you almost feel that he thinks there is not
quite enough of it. He very nearly sits down on one of
the royal rocking chairs: and the_ LORD MAYOR, _looking
red and unhappy, and as if he had now done for himself,
has to whisper to him that the seats under the throne are
reserved_.)
O yes, O yes, make way for the Censor.
(CINDERELLA _has had a good deal of trouble over this
person, of whom she has heard a great deal in war-time,
without meeting anyone who can tell her what he is like.
She has done her best, and he is long and black and thin,
dressed as tightly as a fish, and carries an executioner’s
axe. All fall back from him in fear, except_ LORD TIMES,
_who takes a step forward, and then the_ CENSOR _falls
back_.)
O yes, O yes, make way everybody for his Royal Highness the King,
and his good lady the Queen.
(_The_ KING _and_ QUEEN _are attired like their portraits
on playing cards, who are the only royalties_ CINDERELLA
_has seen, and they advance grandly to their rocking
chairs, looking as if they thought the whole public was
dirt, but not so much despised dirt as dirt with good
points._ LORD TIMES _fixes them with his eye, and the_ KING
_hastily crosses and shakes hands with him_.)
O yes, O yes, make way everyone, except the King, and Queen, and
Lord Times, for His Highness Prince Hard-to-Please.
(_The heir apparent comes, preceded by trumpeters. His
dress may a little resemble that of the extraordinary
youth seen by_ CINDERELLA _in her only pantomime, but
what quite takes our breath away is his likeness to our_
POLICEMAN. _If the ball had taken place a night earlier
it may be hazarded that the_ PRINCE _would have presented
quite a different face. It is as if_ CINDERELLA’S _views of
his personality had undergone some unaccountable change,
confusing even to herself, and for a moment the whole scene
rocks, the street lamps wink, and odd shadows stalk among
the courtiers, shadows of_ MR. BODIE, MARION, _and the
party in an unfinished coat, who have surely no right to be
here. This is only momentarily; then the palace steadies
itself again._
_The_ KING _rises, and in stately manner addresses his
guests in the words Cinderella conceives to be proper
to his royal mouth. As he stands waiting superbly for
the applause to cease, he holds on to a strap hanging
conveniently above his head. To_ CINDERELLA _strap-hanging
on the Underground has been a rare and romantic privilege._)
KING. My loyal subjects, all ’ail! I am as proud of you as you are
of me. It gives me and my good lady much pleasure to see you ’ere
by special invite, feasting at our expense. There is a paper bag
for each, containing two sandwiches, buttered on both sides, a
piece of cake, a hard-boiled egg, and an orange or a banana.
(_The cheers of the delighted courtiers gratify him, but
the vulgar children over his head continue their rub-a-dub
on the parapet until he glares up at them. Even then they
continue._)
Ladies and Gents all, pleasant though it is to fill up with good
victuals, that is not the chief object of this royal invite. We are
’ere for a solemn purpose, namely, to find a mate for our noble
son. All the beauties are waiting in the lobby: no wonder he is
excited.
(_All look at the_ PRINCE, _who is rocking and yawning_.)
He will presently wake up; but first I want to say—(_here he
becomes conscious of_ LORD TIMES). What is it?
LORD TIMES. Less talk.