The Slipper and the Rose: The Story of Cinderella Page #3

primied to propagate

find a mate, dear boy,

find a mate

love will have to wait

there is many

an eligible maiden

of good family

with title of her own

who would come to us

bountifully beladen

with an army that could

fortify our throne

Uncle!

I couldn't have said

that better myself.

Well, I could,

and in fact,

I think I will.

What has marriage got to do

with being happy?

Being married can't compare

with being royal

being royal you engender

every luxury and splendor

while a marriage

can get overripe and spoil

'find a mate, dear cousin,

set the date

why procrastinate

uh-uh!

T and stay the hand of fate? 'find a mate, dear cousin,

set the date

happiness

can always wait

get him out of here.

Get him out.

Oh, have I made

a little faux pas?

I was enjoying myself.

There, you see, that's the price

that we shall have to pay

unless you name

the day.

Listen, lend an ear.

I say again...

What has love got to do

with getting married?

What has bread

got to do with wedding cake?

We are bored with your

defiance of connubial alliance

for a line of royal giants

is at stake

find a mate, dear boy,

find a mate

we are growing old

and time is growing late

find a mate, dear boy,

find a mate

it's your duty to the state

not to stay a celibate

find a mate

find a mate.

Find a mate.

Find a mate.

What has love got to do

with getting married?

We are not prepared

to say.

Oh, what a relief

that is over

and done with.

Help me, my darlings. My

fingers are positively numb.

Mama, didn't

you think the vicar was--

Girls,

girls, girls.

Can you never do anything

without squabbling?

Black was never

my color.

So unbecoming.

Especially when one's

so young and pretty.

And where do you think

you are going, child?

To my room,

stepmother.

Your room?

Her room!

All the rooms

in this house are mine now.

Your father,

m'! Late husband,

sadly missed by

us all,

is dead, child.

Dead and buried

beneath the snow

in the same grave

as your dear mother.

That is a double misfortune

for you.

And now you must start

a new life.

Your father, as a token of

his great love for me,

saw fit to make a will

placing you in my care

and protection.

My father

never loved you.

You tricked him.

How dare you, madam!

You tricked him!

Well...

Well if I did,

he did not live

to rue the day, did he?

And now you can curb

your tongue;

cultivate humility,

know your present place.

I hate you.

I hate you all.

Now, listen to me, girl,

and hear me well!

Blood is thicker

than a widows tears,

and God knows I have shed

enough of those.

I have two daughters

of my own to support,

which situation

has forced me

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