A popular subject with the writers of burlesque for Christmastide has been the time-honoured one of Cinderella. The first travestie of any importance was by Albert Smith and Kenny, seen at the Lyceum so long ago as 1845. Next came H. J. Byron's version at the Strand in 1860, followed by Mr. Green's in 1871, Mr. Wilton Jones's (at Leicester) in 1878, and Mr. Reece's (at the Gaiety) in 1883. A provincial burlesque on this topic was called "Done-to-a-Cinderella," and in America there has been a "Cinder-Ellen." Mr. Reece's piece was called, simply, "Our Cinderella"; Mr. Jones's, "Little Cinderella." Byron's was christened "Cinderella, or the Lover, the Lackey, and the Little Glass Slipper." It has been a great favourite with the public ever since it was first played with Maria Simpson as Cinderella, Miss Oliver as the Prince (Popetti), Miss Charlotte Saunders as his valet Dandino, John Clarke as the Baron Balderdash, and Rogers and Miss Lavine as Clorinda and Thisbe. Over and over again has this clever piece of work served as the basis of pantomime "openings" both in town and country.
Following the traditional story closely enough, it bristles with the puns in which Byron revelled, and which he poured forth with singular and somewhat exhausting lavishness. Thus, we find Dandino saying:—
As I've made my bed so I must lie.
Continuing bed metaphor, sir—I,
When quite a child, the blackest draught would drain,
And took my pill—oh! on account o' pain!
And as my youthful feathers all unfurled
Seemed formed to make a bold stir in the world,
Little dreamt I I should appear a valet as,
For I seemed born to reign in royal palliasse;
But suddenly the future seemed to frown;
Fortune gave me a quilt, an' I'd a down.
A little farther on Dandino and the Prince, who are about to exchange characters for the nonce, have the following little contest in pun-making:—
Dandi. But I must have a change of toggery:
This coat, you will admit, is not the best cut,
And neither is my waistcoat quite the West cut.
I must divest myself of that affair:
These buckles ain't the thing for Buckley Square.
Prince. You shall be decked in gems of vast expense,
And be a gem-man in a double sense.
Your servant, I will wait, clean boots, wash glasses;
Thus serve a nob, an' ob-serve all that passes.
Dandi. Then you'll obey me till you've found La Donna?
You pledge your princely word?
Prince (shaking his hand heartily). A-pawn my honour.
An even better instance of Byron's tendency to run a pun to death is to be found in this colloquy between the Prince and Cinderella. The latter says:—