Vain, foolish, extravagant Don Magnifico, having squandered the family fortune, lives in a rundown palace, a shadow of its former splendor,
with his two daughters in whom he places great hope. Marry either one of them to a rich man and all will be well.
Gorgeous to look at, their beauty unfortunately does not go deep. According to a keen observer, in his words, they are "hard as nails,
cold as ice, silly, shallow, vain and vicious - otherwise they're very nice."
Oh, yes, there is also a third daughter (a step-daughter, they would be quick to point out) nick-named Cinderella. Needless to say, she is vastly inferior to her half-sisters. Where is the style, the flair? Useful as a servant, as someone to call upon to humor their slightest whims, she is otherwise disdained, neglected and kept in rags. Despite the daily dose of condescension that she is forced to swallow, she has retained a marvelously sweet, unassuming, unresentful, loving nature.
It so happens that a handsome young prince, after years of extensive travel, has just returned home to his palace to settle down and search for a bride. In order to inspect the available ladies, he announces a magnificent ball. This throws the two pampered daughters into a fever of excitement and anticipation, each confident of emerging the winner.
Despite her pleas, Cinderella is not allowed to attend. Nonetheless, to the amazement of all and the consternation of some,
she shows up anonymously, an apparent stranger, unrecognizable in her sumptuous attire, provided by the prince's wise and
kindly old tutor (and something of a magician) who has recognized the modest girl's true merits.
Far be it from us to spoil things by giving away the ending.
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