Part 4

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.

KING. Certainly. (_He sits down._)

PRINCE (_encouraged to his feet by various royal nudges_). My liege King and Queen-Mother, you can have the competitors brought in, and I will take a look at them; but I have no hope. My curse is this, that I am a scoffer about females. I can play with them for a idle hour and then cast them from me even as I cast this banana skin. I can find none so lovely that I may love her for aye from the depths of my passionate heart. I am so blasted particular. O yes! O yes! (_He sits down and looks helpless._)

KING (_undismayed_). All ready?

(_The_ LORD MAYOR _bows_.)

All is ready, my son.

PRINCE (_bored_). Then let loose the Beauts.

(_To heavenly music from the royal hurdy-gurdies the_ BEAUTIES _descend the stairs, one at a time. There are a dozen of the fine creatures, in impudent confections such as_ CINDERELLA _has seen in papers in_ MR. BODIE’S _studio; some of them with ropes of hair hanging down their proud backs as she has seen them in a hair-dresser’s window. As we know, she has once looked on at a horse show, and this has coloured her conception of a competition for a prince. The ladies prance round the ball-room like high-stepping steeds; it is evident that_ CINDERELLA _has had them fed immediately before releasing them; her pride is to show them at their very best, and then to challenge them._

_They paw the floor wantonly until_ LORD TIMES _steps forward. Peace thus restored_, HIS MAJESTY _proceeds_.)

KING. The first duty of a royal consort being to be _good_, the test of goodness will now be applied by the Lord Mayor. Every competitor who does not pass in goodness will be made short work of.

(_Several ladies quake, and somewhere or other unseen_ CINDERELLA _is chuckling_.)

ONE OF THE STEEDS. I wasn’t told about this. It isn’t fair.

LORD MAYOR (_darkly_). If your Grace wishes to withdraw—

(_She stamps._)

KING. The Lord Mayor will now apply the test.

LORD MAYOR (_to a gold page_). The therm-mo-ometers, boy!

(_A whole boxful of thermometers is presented to him by the page on bended knee. The_ LORD MAYOR _is now in his element. He has ridden in gold coaches and knows what hussies young women often are. To dainty music he trips up the line of beauties and pops a tube into each pouting mouth. The competitors circle around, showing their paces while he stands, watch in hand, giving them two minutes. Then airily he withdraws the tubes; he is openly gleeful when he finds sinners. Twice he is in doubt, it is a very near thing, and he has to consult the_ KING _in whispers: the_ KING _takes the_ QUEEN _aside, to whisper behind the door as it were; then they both look at_ LORD TIMES, _who, without even stepping forward, says ‘No’—and the doubtfuls are at once bundled out of the chamber with the certainties. Royalty sighs, and the courtiers sigh and the_ LORD MAYOR _sighs in a perfunctory way, but there is a tossing of manes from the beauties who have scraped through_.)

KING (_stirring up the_ PRINCE, _who has fallen asleep_). Our Royal Bud will now graciously deign to pick out a few possibles.

(_His Royal Highness yawns._)

LORD MAYOR (_obsequiously_). If your Highness would like a little assistance—

PRINCE (_you never know how they will take things_). We shall do this for ourselves, my good fellow.

(_He smacks the_ LORD MAYOR’S _face with princely elegance. The_ LORD MAYOR _takes it as a favour, and the courtiers gently smack each other’s faces and are very proud to be there. The_ PRINCE _moves languidly down the line of beauties considering their points, occasionally nodding approval but more often screwing up his nose. The courtiers stand ready with nods or noses. Several ladies think they have been chosen, but he has only brought them into prominence to humiliate them; he suddenly says ‘Good-bye,’ and they have to go, while he is convulsed with merriment. He looks sharply at the courtiers to see if they are convulsed also, and they are. The others are flung out._)

QUEEN (_hanging on to her strap_). Does our Royal one experience no palpitation at all?

PRINCE (_sleepily_). Ah me, ah me!

LORD TIMES (_irritated_). You’re well called ’Ard-to-Please. You would turn up your nose at a lady though she were shaped like Apollo’s bow.

(_The_ PRINCE _shrugs his shoulder to indicate that love cannot be forced_.)

LORD MAYOR (_darkly_). And now we come to the severer test.

(_With a neat action, rather like taking a lid off a pot, the_ LORD MAYOR _lets it be known to the ladies that they must now lift their skirts to show their feet. When this devastating test is concluded, there are only two competitors left in the room._)

LORD TIMES (_almost as if he were thinking of himself_). Can’t have Two.

(_Cards such as_ CINDERELLA _saw at the horse show, with ‘1st,’ ‘2nd,’ and ‘3rd’ on them, are handed to the_ PRINCE. _Like one well used to such proceedings, he pins 2nd and 3rd into the ladies’ bodices._)

QUEEN (_gloomily_). But still no first.

(_The_ CHILDREN _applaud; they have been interfering repeatedly_.)

KING. Come, come, proud youth, you feel no palps at all?

PRINCE. Not a palp. Perhaps for a moment this one’s nose—that one’s cock of the head—But it has passed.

(_He drearily resumes his rocking chair. No one seems to know what to do next._)

MARIE (_to the rescue_). The two Ugly Sisters! Monsieur le Roi, the two Ugly Sisters! (_She points derisively at the winners._)

KING (_badgered_). How did these children get their invites?

(_This is another thing that no one knows. Once more the room rocks, and_ MR. BODIE _passes across it as if looking for some one. Then a growing clamour is heard outside. Bugles sound. The_ LORD MAYOR _goes and returns with strange news_.)

LORD MAYOR. Another competitor, my King. Make way for the Lady Cinderella!

KING. Cinderella? I don’t know her.

GLADYS (_nearly falling out of the box_). You’ll soon know her. Now you’ll see! Somebody wake the Prince up.

(_The portals are flung open, and_ CINDERELLA _is seen alighting from her lovely equipage, which we will not describe because some one has described it before. But note the little waggle of her foot just before she favours the ground. We have thought a great deal about how our_ CINDERELLA _should be dressed for this occasion: white of course, and she looked a darling in it, but we boggle at its really being of the grandest stuff and made in the shop where the Beauties got theirs. No, the material came from poorer warehouses in some shabby district not far from the street of the penny shop; her eyes had glistened as she gazed at it through the windows, and she paid for it with her life’s blood, and made the frock herself. Very possibly it was bunchy here and there._

CINDERELLA _then comes sailing down into the ball-room, not a sound to be heard except the ecstatic shrieks of the four children. She is modest but calmly confident; she knows exactly what to do. She moves once round the room to show her gown, then curtseys to the Royal personages; then, turning to the_ LORD MAYOR, _opens her mouth and signs to him to pop in the thermometer. He does it as in a dream. Presently he is excitedly showing the thermometer to the_ KING.)

KING. Marvellous! 99!

(_The cry is repeated from all sides. The_ QUEEN _hands the_ KING _a long pin from her coiffure, and the_ PRINCE _is again wakened_.)

PRINCE (_with his hand to his brow_). What, another! Oh, all right; but you know this is a dog’s life. (_He goes to_ CINDERELLA, _takes one glance at her and resumes his chair_.)

LORD MAYOR (_while the children blub_). That settles it, I think. (_He is a heartless fellow._) That will do. Stand back, my girl.

CINDERELLA (_calmly_). I don’t think.

KING. It’s no good, you know.

CINDERELLA (_curtseying_). Noble King, there is two bits of me thy son hath not yet seen. I crave my rights. (_She points to the two bits referred to, which are encased in the loveliest glass slippers._)

KING. True. Boy, do your duty.

PRINCE. Oh, bother!

(_Those words are the last spoken by him in his present state. When we see him again, which is the moment afterwards, he is translated. He looks the same, but so does a clock into which new works have been put. The change is effected quite simply by_ CINDERELLA _delicately raising her skirt and showing him her foot. As the exquisite nature of the sight thus vouchsafed to him penetrates his being a tremor passes through his frame; his vices take flight from him and the virtues enter. It is a heady wakening, and he falls at her feet. The courtiers are awkward, not knowing whether they should fall also._ CINDERELLA _beams to the children, who utter ribald cries of triumph_.)

KING (_rotating on his strap_). Give him air! Fill your lungs, my son!

QUEEN (_on hers_). My boy! My boy!

LORD MAYOR (_quickly taking the royal cue_). Oh, lady fair!

(_The_ PRINCE’S _palpitations increase in violence_.)

QUEEN. Oh, happy sight!

KING. Oh, glorious hour!

LORD MAYOR (_not sure that he was heard the first time_). Oh, lady fair!

(_The_ PRINCE _springs to his feet. He is looking very queer_.)

LORD TIMES (_probably remembering how he looked once_). The Prince is about to propose!

LORD MAYOR. O yes, O yes, O yes!

KING. Proceed, my son.

PRINCE (_with lover-like contortions and addressing himself largely to the feet_). Dew of the morning, garden of delight, sweet petals of enchanted nights, the heavens have opened and through the chink thou hast fallen at my feet, even as I fall at thine. Thou art not one but twain, and these the twain—Oh, pretty feet on which my lady walks, are they but feet? O no, O no, O no! They are so small I cannot see them. Hie! A candle that I may see my lady’s feet!

(_He kisses one foot, and she holds up the other for similar treatment._)

O Cinderella, if thou wilt deign to wife with me, I’ll do my best to see that through the years you always walk on kisses.

(_The courtiers resolve to walk on kisses for evermore._)

LORD MAYOR. The Prince has proposed. The Lady Cinderella will now reply.

KING. Lovely creature, take pity on my royal son.

QUEEN. Cinderella, be my daughter.

LORD TIMES (_succinctly_). Yes, or no?

CINDERELLA. There’s just one thing. Before I answer, I would like that little glass thing to be put in his mouth.

LORD MAYOR (_staggered_). The Ther-mo-mo-meter?

KING. In our _Prince’s_ mouth!

LORD TIMES. Why not?

CINDERELLA. Just to make sure that he is good.

PRINCE (_with a sinking_). Oh, I say!

QUEEN. Of course he is good, Cinderella—he is our son.

CINDERELLA (_doggedly_). I would like it put in his mouth.

KING. But—

PRINCE (_alarmed_). Pater!

LORD TIMES. It must be done.

(_The test is therefore made. The royal mouth has to open to the thermometer, which is presently passed to the_ KING _for examination. He looks very grave. The_ PRINCE _seizes the tell-tale thing, and with a happy thought lets it fall_.)

PRINCE. 99!

(_The joyous cry is taken up by all, and_ CINDERELLA _goes divinely on one knee to her lord and master_.)

CINDERELLA (_simply_). I accepts.

KING (_when the uproar has ceased_). All make merry! The fire is going low. (_Recklessly._) In with another shilling!

(_A shilling is dumped into the shilling-in-the-slot stove, which blazes up. The_ PRINCE _puts his arm round his love_.)

LORD TIMES (_again remembering his day of days_). My Prince, not so fast. There is still the riddle.

PRINCE. I had forgotten.

CINDERELLA (_quaking_). I was feared there would be a riddle.

KING (_prompted by_ LORD TIMES). Know ye all, my subjects, that before blue blood can wed there is a riddle; and she who cannot guess it—(_darkly_) is taken away and censored.

(_The_ CENSOR _with his axe comes into sudden prominence behind_ CINDERELLA _and the two other competitors_.)

My Lord Times, the riddle!

LORD TIMES. I hold in my one hand the riddle, and in the other the answer in a sealed envelope, to prevent any suspicion of hanky-panky. Third prize, forward! Now, my child, this is the riddle. On the night of the Zeppelin raids, what was it that everyone rushed to save first?

3RD PRIZE. The children.

LORD TIMES. Children not included.

(_The lady is at a loss._)

PRINCE. Time’s up! Hoo-ray!

(_He signs callously to the_ CENSOR, _who disappears with his victim through a side door, to reappear presently, wiping his axe and skipping gaily_.)

LORD TIMES. Second prize, forward. Now, Duchess, answer.

2ND PRIZE. Her jewels!

(LORD TIMES _shakes his head_.)

PRINCE (_brightly_). Off with her head! Drown her in a bucket!

(_The_ CENSOR _again removes the lady and does his fell work_.)

LORD TIMES. First prize, forward. Now, Cinderella, answer.

(_The_ CENSOR, _a kindly man but used to his calling, puts his hand on her shoulder, to lead her away. She removes it without looking at him._)

CINDERELLA. It’s not a catch, is it?

LORD TIMES (_hotly_). No, indeed.

CINDERELLA. There’s just one thing all true Britons would be anxious about.

KING (_who has been allowed to break the envelope and read the answer_). But what, Cinderella—what?

LORD MAYOR (_hedging again_). What, chit?

CINDERELLA. Their love-letters.

KING and LORD TIMES (_together, but_ LORD TIMES _a little in front_). The fair Cinderella has solved the riddle!

LORD MAYOR (_promptly_). Oh, fair lady!

CINDERELLA (_remembering the Venus_). There’s just one thing that makes it not quite a perfect ball. I wanted Mrs. Bodie to be one of the competitors—so as I could beat her.

KING. Send for her at once. Take a taxi.

(_A courtier rushes out whistling, and returns with_ VENUS, _now imbued with life. Her arms go out wantonly to the_ PRINCE. _He signs to the_ CENSOR, _who takes her away and breaks her up_.)

PRINCE. I crave a boon. The wedding at once, my lord.

(LORD TIMES _signifies assent_.)

KING. The marriage ceremony will now take place.

CINDERELLA (_calling to the children_). Bridesmaids!

(_They rush down and become her bridesmaids. At the top of the stair appears a penguin—a penguin or a bishop, they melt into each other on great occasions. The regal couple kneel._)

PENGUIN. Do you, O Prince, take this lady to be your delightful wife—and to adore her for ever?

PRINCE. I do, I do! Oh, I do, I do indeed! I do—I do—I do!

PENGUIN. Do you, Cinderella, loveliest of your sex, take this Prince for husband, and to love, honour, and obey him?

CINDERELLA (_primly_). If you please.

PENGUIN. The ring?

(_It is_ MARIE-THERESE’S _great hour; she passes her ring to_ CINDERELLA, _who is married in it. Triumphant music swells out as a crown is put upon our Princess’s head, and an extraordinary long train attached to her person. Her husband and she move dreamily round the ball-room, the children holding up the train._ LORD TIMES _with exquisite taste falls in behind them. Then follow the courtiers, all dreamily; and completing the noble procession is the_ LORD MAYOR, _holding aloft on a pole an enormous penny. It has the face of_ CINDERELLA _on one side of it—the penny which to those who know life is the most romantic of coins unless its little brother has done better._

_The music, despite better intentions, begins to lose its head. It obviously wants to dance. Everyone wants to dance. Even_ LORD TIMES _has trouble with his legs_.)

KING (_threatening, supplicating_). Don’t dance yet. I’ve got a surprise for you. Don’t dance. I haven’t told you about it, so as to keep you on the wonder.

(_In vain do they try to control themselves._)

It’s ices!