The Less There Is Of

Once Upon A Time There Was A Queen Who Had A Son So Ugly And So Misshapen That It Was Long Disputed Whether He Had Human Form. A Fairy Who Was At His Birth Said, However, That He Would Be Very Amiable For All That, Since He Would Have Uncommon Good Sense.

The Next Day The Two Sisters Went To The Ball, And So Did Cinderella, But Dressed More Magnificently Than Before. The King's Son Was Always By Her Side, And His Pretty Speeches To Her Never Ceased.

After A Hundred Years The Son Of The King Then Reigning, Who Was Of Another Family From That Of The Sleeping Princess, Was A-hunting On That Side Of The Country, And He Asked What Those Towers Were Which He Saw In The Middle Of A Great Thick Wood.

He Obliged Cinderella To Sit Down, And, Putting The Slipper To Her Little Foot, He Found It Went On Very Easily, And Fitted Her As If It Had Been Made Of Wax.

To Wait So Long/and Want A Man Refined And Strong/is Not At All Uncommon. And Yet To Wait One Hundred Years/without A Tear, Without A Care/makes For A Very Rare Woman. So Here Our Tale Appears To Show/how Marriage Deferred/brings Joy Unheard/nothing Lost After A Century Or So. But Others Love With More Ardor/and Wed Quickly Out Of Passion/whatever They Do/i Won’t Deplore/nor Shall I Preach A Lesson.