Cinderella Page #2

Or... Or better yet, disappear entirely!

You'd like that, wouldn't you?

Sometimes I could scratch

your eyes out!

I think they're finding

the sleeping quarters rather confining.

Well, my bedroom's the biggest

besides yours and Father's.

Perhaps they'd like to share it.

What a wonderful idea.

What a good girl you are.

I can stay in the...

The attic.

Quite so.

The attic?

Yes.

Only temporarily, while I have

all the other rooms redecorated.

The attic's so nice and airy

and you'll be away

from all of our fuss and bother.

You'd be even more cozy

if you kept all this bric-a-brac

up there with you.

Keep you amused.

Well,

no one shall disturb me here.

Hello, Gus-Gus.

Go on, Gus-Gus, you can do it.

So this is where you take refuge.

Me too, it would seem.

Right.

Who's going to help me?

Simpleton.

That is the last straw.

Our little sister, up there,

talking to the woodworm.

How very pleasant.

No cats,

and no stepsisters.

We have a halfwit for a sister.

I've got two.

I heard that.

- Who is she talking to?

- She's mad.

Sing, sweet nightingale

- Good morning.

- Good morning, Miss Ella.

Good morning, Tom!

Sing sweet...

Hello. Don't mind if I...

What a lovely Chantecler. Well done.

Thanks.

- 'Morning.

- 'Morning.

Thank you, Miss Ella.

You're welcome.

Ella!

Wake up, girls! It's lunch time!

Mornings did not agree

with Ella's stepsisters.

And they lacked accomplishment

in such domestic arts

as keeping house.

In fact, they lacked

accomplishment in any art.

It was a lover and his lass

With a hey, and a ho

And a hey nonino

That o'er the green

corn-field did pass

Sweet lovers love

The spring

Sweet lovers love

The spring

Do shut up.

Ella's great comfort

were the letters that Father

would send from his travels.

The weeks away

lengthened to months,

but every day would bring his

thoughts from some distant part.

Miss Ella, it's the mail coach!

Until late one afternoon...

Farmer John?

Miss Ella.

It's your father, miss.

He took ill on the road.

He's passed on, miss.

He's gone.

To the end, he spoke only of you, miss.

And your mother.

I was to give you this.

But what about my lace?

My parasol?

Can't you see? None of that matters.

We're ruined.

How will we live?

Thank you.

It must have been very difficult for you.

How indeed to live.

Economies had to be taken.

Ella's stepmother

dismissed the household.

Her stepmother and stepsisters

ever misused her.

And by and by they considered Ella

less a sister than a servant.

And so Ella was left to do all the work.

This was a good thing,

for it distracted her from her grief.

At least that was what

her stepmother said.

And she and her two daughters

were more than happy

to provide Ella

with lots and lots of distraction.

In their defense,

they did share with her

the very food they ate,

or rather, the scraps from their table.

She had little in the way of friends.

Well, her friends were very little.

There you are.

Have dinner with me, won't you?

But those friends she had,

she treated with an open heart

and an open hand.

Your table.

Sometimes, by the end of the day,

the drafty attic was too cold

to spend the night in,

so she lay by the dying

embers of the hearth

to keep warm.

I thought breakfast was ready.

It is, madam.

I'm only mending the fire.

In future, can we not be called

until the work is done?

As you wish.

Ella, what's that on your face?

Madam?

It's ash from the fireplace.

Do clean yourself up.

You'll get cinders in our tea.

I've got a new name for her!

Cinderwench.

I couldn't bear to look so dirty.

Dirty Ella.

Cinder-ella!

That's what we'll call you.

Girls, you're too clever.

Who's this for?

Is there someone we've forgotten?

It's my place.

It seems too much

to expect you to prepare breakfast,

serve it and still sit with us.

Wouldn't you prefer to eat

when all the work is done, Ella?

Or should I say, "Cinderella"?

Cinderella.

Names have power, like magic spells.

And of a sudden, it seemed to her

that her stepmother and stepsisters

had indeed transformed her

into merely a creature of ash

and toil.

Run!

Quickly, my friend, or they'll catch you!

Go!

Easy!

Perhaps it was just as well

that Ella's stepsisters were cruel.

For had she not run to the forest,

she might never have met the prince.

Easy! Easy!

Easy, boy!

Come on, boy, slow down!

Miss!

Miss! Are you all right?

Hold on!

I'm all right, thank you!

That's fine.

- Are you all right?

- I'm all right,

but you've nearly frightened

the life out of him.

Who?

The stag.

What's he ever done to you

that you should chase him about?

I must confess

I've never met him before.

He is a friend of yours?

An acquaintance.

We met just now.

I looked into his eyes,

and he looked into mine,

and I just felt he had a great deal

left to do with his life.

That's all.

Miss, what do they call you?

Never mind what they call me.

You shouldn't be this deep

in the forest alone.

I'm not alone. I'm with you, Mister...

What do they call you?

You don't know who I am?

That is...

They call me Kit.

Well, my father does

when he's in a good mood.

And

where do you live, Mr. Kit?

At the palace.

My father's teaching me his trade.

You're an apprentice?

Of a sort.

That's very fine.

Do they treat you well?

Better than I deserve, most likely.

And you?

They treat me as well as they're able.

I'm sorry.

It's not your doing.

Nor yours either, I'll bet.

It's not so very bad.

Others have it worse, I'm sure.

We must

simply have courage

and be kind, mustn't we?

Yes.

You're right.

That's exactly how I feel.

Please don't let them hurt him.

But we're hunting, you see.

It's what's done.

Just because it's what's done

doesn't mean it's what should be done.

Right again.

Then,

you'll leave him alone, won't you?

I will.

Thank you very much, Mr. Kit.

There you are, Your High...

It's Kit! Kit!

Kit! I'm Kit. I'm on my way.

Well, we'd better get a move on,

Mr. Kit.

As I said.

On my way.

I hope to see you again, miss.

And I, you.

You sound as if you're the first fellow

ever to meet a pretty girl.

She wasn't a "pretty girl."

Well, she was a pretty girl,

but there was so much more to her.

How much more?

You've only met her once.

How could you know

anything about her?

You told me you knew right away

when you met Mother.

That's different.

Your mother was a princess.

You would have loved her anyway.

I would never have seen her,

because it wouldn't

have been appropriate.

And my father would have told me

what I'm telling you

and I would have listened.

- No, you wouldn't.

- Yes, I would.

- No, you wouldn't.

- I would.

- You wouldn't.

- You're right.

Well, how is he?

Your Majesty...

Never mind.

If it takes that long to work out a way

to say it, I already know.

Father...

Way of all flesh, boy.

Come.

We shall be late.

And punctuality is the...

...politeness of princes.

His Majesty, the King!

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