Yes, the Glass Slipper fits.
But I will not go with you.
You stand shocked in your magnificent Uniform,
Black shoes and Spurs sparkling
Sword shining in its scabbard,
Proud blue eyes wide,
Handsome face stunned
Prince Henry Alexander
Your father gave a ball to find a queen,
but you found me instead.
We will marry
BUT you will be the one transformed, not me
You rode to my house on your beautiful Horse,
descending from your castle,
to bring your future queen back to your life
of Privilege and Royalty.
No. I will bring you into my world of
menial work and sacrifice and exhaustion.
My fairy Godfather is here to help transform you.
You came with a glass shoe for my foot.
But now YOUR polished shoes and silk socks,
footwear of a Prince,
are coming OFF your privileged feet.
You are stunned and horrified
You resist and argue
You refuse and try to leave
Your pride and anger rise
But there is no escaping your destiny.
You are now the barefoot Prince among the cinders
Barefoot in your Dazzling Court Uniform
Would you ever dance barefoot in your elegant Palace
Naked soles instead of smartly clicking shoes?
Now we take your Royal Sword
You will not be fighting battles anymore
Your Medals and White Gloves are pulled off
You shudder as you surrender pieces of your
Royal self to our hands.
Here are the rough clothes of a peasant farmer
made of rough burlap.
What are these? You gasp
Strip off your magnificent Imperial Uniform.
Scarlet Tunic and pressed striped blue Trousers
Royal Sash and Epaulettes
that belong to your former Princely life
Step into your new uniform of labor and poverty.
You struggle with outrage and frustration
but a surge of courage gives way
as my Fairy Godfather strips you of your inherited
Nobility and Privilege
Send a message to the King and Queen
You are renouncing your Royal Throne
Your former life and former future
All that you once were
and all that you were born to be.
You are no longer Prince Henry Alexander
Soon to be King Henry Alexander IV...
What name is that for a peasant?
You are now Hank
That is all. Just Hank.
Renounce your Princely Education
your formal training
your upper class speech and manner.
We will help you strip yourself
of your High Position.
Do not worry.
Your Aristocratic identity is already dead.
We will sell your splendid Sword.
We will trade your former sparkling black shoes
for a pig
Exchange your former Brilliant Uniform
for a goat
Your former ring with the Royal Insignia
for grain and seeds
Trade in your former Spurs and black silk socks with
the monogram of your former name for a plow.
Your head of wonderful Golden hair,
the hair of a Prince on a Throne,
the hair of Warrior in Battle,
hair for a Palace, hair for a Ball.
I remember the palace lights
shining on your beautiful Golden hair....
All that glorious hair
must be shaved off.
Your handsome face already in shock.
Your mouth drops open.
Your Golden hair will be sold
to make a wig for a wealthy bald man.
Let him wear the Princely hair with pride.
YOUR pride and dignity are shriveling and
vanishing like raindrops on a hot day
You will work long hours in the fields
You will sow and reap, tend the animals,
Chop trees, you will be a beast of burden,
We have no Ox.
We will attach the plow to your Princely shoulders.
You will have no need of thick, full golden hair.
Your Princely hands and feet are smooth, clean, white
protected by shoes, boots, spurs, gloves.
But soon the earth and rain and wind
will enter and crack them.
Your beautiful, beloved Horse,
Groomed in the Royal Stables,
waiting outside the house
is no longer yours.
Yes, we will sell him as well.
Together we will live a life of drudgery.
We will have children who will never know
their Royal lineage.
You have descended to my level
and here you will remain...
I will name our new pig Prince
to remind you, as a gentle joke for summer nights...
A revised ending for Cinderella, with a bitter twist