The Slipper and the Rose: The Story of Cinderella
- G
- Year:
- 1976
- 127 min
- 1,093 Views
1
Why do they always
sound so many trumpets?
I'm not Jehovah.
Why can't a prince
come home without a fuss?
Presumably because
he is a prince, sir.
Other people can sneak in
the back way unannounced,
which is how
it should be.
What are you
smiling at?
Oh, was
I smiling, sir?
Just the sudden warmth
cracking my face.
A prince's lot is
nothing more than a bore.
Your face cracks
rather easily, doesn't it?
Now, you mark
my words,
before you
can count to 10,
through that door,
with the odious punctuality
of our neighbor's
much vaunted,
recently invented, hideously
irritating cuckoo clock,
will come our dear
and loyal subject,
the ever-unctuous
lord high Chamberlain.
5, 6...
7!
He's improving.
One of these days,
he's going to achieve
the elusive
10-minute mile.
Ha ha ha ha!
Your royal highness.
Ah, welcome home.
Welcome home,
your royal highness.
My lord high Chamberlain,
what an unexpected
pleasure.
I am commanded by
his majesty the king,
your father,
and her majesty
the queen, your mother--
yes, yes, now,
don't tire yourself,
I am acquainted
with them.
How are my
doting parents?
Their majesties are naturally
most anxious to hear
such glad tidings
I feel sure you bear
concerning your recent
absence from the court.
Namely, the matter
of your acceptance of
and betrothal to the princess
selina of carolsfeld.
Indeed, in anticipation
of such wonderful news,
his majesty the king
has decided to make you
a knight grand cross
of the most illustrious order
of Saint David the martyr.
Which is usually
awarded posthumously.
A suitable honor,
as it happens,
for the matter of my betrothal
is very status quo.
I did not find the lady of
your choice to be my choice.
Oh, but, sir--
we are returned...
As we departed.
The king I'm sure,
and indeed my dear mama
will share
your noticeable grief.
Indeed, sir,
the whole court will be grieved.
Well, so be it.
Any simple peasant is
afforded the ability
in love...
To win or lose
while I of the nobility
am robbed of the facility
to choose
any serf or servant
can by natural selection
elect himself a mate
if she's amenable
but due to my high breeding,
I'm continually acceding
to demands
I find increasingly
untenable
all I ask, and it's a
simple enough request--
well, follow me,
by all means, follow me.
I wish to know,
I demand to know...
Why can't I be
two people?
Why can't I live
two roles?
Why can't one of me perform
all the cloying amenities ti
while the other me,
twin brother me
be a free and happy soul?/
why can't I be
two people?
Split myself right in half
then I could satisfy
and mollify
and pacify and qualify
while the other me
would have
a hell of
a healthy laugh, ha? '11
the custom of royalty
in referring to oneself
is to naturally employ
the royal "we
"we are very happy" si
y, we are very sad I
we are bored
and suffer from ennui"
for a royal prince,
there's no such word as me"
it's always "we
so, rightfully, I
should be two on three
don't you agree?
It's not for me to say,
your royal highness.
Perhaps not.
So, I ask myself...
Why can't I be
two people?
Why can't I play
two parts?
Why can't one of me endure
the appalling formalities
while the other me,
twin brother me
have a free
and happy heart?
If I could be
two people
life would not
pass me by
I'd have a chance
to pick and choose
I'd have a chance
to win or lose
and maybe one of us
would have a chance to live...
Before we die!
Die? Who's died?
Ah! At last!
Our dear son.
We are... we are...
We're what?
Delighted.
Yes, delighted
to see you return.
Oh!
Ah, yes, I have
something for you.
Father...
Your majesty--
kneel, sir.
Father.
I do not wish" it would
be most inappropriate...
Your majesty, his royal
highness has returned--
of course he's returned! You
get more senile every day.
I have returned,
father--
now you' re
catching it.
Empty-handed.
Kneel, sir.
Father, this is
most emibarrassing.
I command you
to kneel, sir!
I don't deserve it.
I haven't earned it.
Nobody earns this.
It's given because I am
the king and I like it.
Where's my sword?
Ah! It's far
too heavy.
You know, I was born with the
curse of the weak wrists.
Oh, I do so love
a ceremony.
Ah, that's better.
I dub thee--
now, wait a minute.
Shouldn't there be
something before that?
Yes, indeed, sire.
I have it here.
Your majesty--father,
do we--must I--
us, or course,
you must. Ahem!
Let it be known
to all here present
that by our command
his royal highness,
the prince
Edward Charles
"Albert George James
Richard Augustus Philip
has received
our gracious favor.
er... who wrote this?
You did, sire.
Ah, yes, well,
it's magnificent stuff.
Well worth
paying attention to.
From this day henceforth
shall be entitled
"to be known as
a knight grand cross
of the most illustrious order of
Saint David the blessed martyr. "
There's... somebody
in the room!
Very fine. Now I kiss
you on both cheeks.
That's the part
I like best.
I sometimes give medals
to a whole regiment.
Good. Very
touching ceremony.
Most touching, sire.
Sycophant!
Don't always have
to agree, you know.
Congratulations,
dear cousin.
Oh, lord!
Who let him in?
Congratulations !
I heard all the trumpets.
Now, don't you start.
Oh! A little
premature, am I?
I say, have I dropped the
tiniest of social brickettes?
I mean, I was being
quite sincere.
Well, you know, as
sincere as I ever am.
Oh, no!
Who is it? Has there been
an uprising?
No, your majesty. It's
just the Duke of montague.
Is he still alive?
I thought we buried him.
Father, ever since
I entered this room,
I've been trying
to tell you that
what you expected of me
did not take place.
My throw, I think.
No, it's not.
You're cheating again.
Kings never cheat. They
adapt to circumstances,
but they never cheat.
If I may, sir,
by roux leave,
this thing
is choking me.
You see how
I'm placed?
Accused in front of the
court by my own wife.
Father,
this is serious.
Of course,
it' s serious.
I shall probably
concede the game.
It's a royal prerogative
to be unsporting.
Never concede.
I throw.
Black 5 !
The match, father, was of
your making not of mine.
Even so,
as a dutiful son,
I journeyed far
beyond our borders
to pay my respects
to the lady and...
See for myself.
And she was fair,
was she not?
Indeed, sir. Perhaps
pale rather than fair.
A sickly lady, sir,
given to much swooning
and... and vapors.
All ladies swoon. They know
it's expected of them.
Some swoon
more than others, sir,
and swooning to excess is not
She refused you? Is that
what you're saying?
No, father,
because I did not offer.
You perhaps placed
too much trust
in the portrait painters
of carolsfeld.
The likeness
was no likeness.
to the discourtesy,
the lady was bald, sir.
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