Monday, March 24, 2008

Rhodopis, the Greco-Egyptian Cinderella

Recorded by the Greek historian Strabo (c. 63 BC – c. AD 23), Rhodopis (also Rhodopsis) is arguably the earliest[1] version of Cinderella.

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Rhodopis, the rosy-cheeked, was a girl from brought from Greece to Egypt, a bounty of the slave trade. Soon sold to a kindly but absent and elderly master, she came to work in his house, with his three Egyptian servants.

Seeing her fair skin, and hearing her foreign words, the servants were quick to hate Rhodopis. When the master bid them grind the grain, weed the garden, or do the wash, they each would say, “Call Rosy-Cheek, she can do it,” or “Rhodopis! Ugly One! Come, the master wants you to do as we say!”

Now, Rhodopis was neither soft nor blind; if she did not know the others were taking advantage of her, she certainly suspected. At first, she sought to have them share in her work, but the Egyptians were scornful and cruel, and Rhodopis soon found it was easiest to set about her chores alone. But while she forced to work for all, Rhodopis’ heart was often light; skilled as a dancer she would skip and flit and dash about, lithe as a leaf on the wind.

One day, as Rhodopis took the wash to the river, her master chanced to see her skip along. So light, so skilled, so graceful was she, he soon gifted her with a pair of gilded slippers[2], for though he was absent, elderly, and entirely unaware of Rhodopis’ hardship, he was, in essentials, a kind and good-hearted man.
All then continued as before: Rhodopis did the household work while the other girls supervised. Some time after the slipper-gift, the Pharaoh invited the people to an open court, a celebration, in Memphis. The master, delivering the news, was quick to consent to all four girls attending.

Naturally, Rhodopis’ first thought was that she would now have a chance to dance in her gilded slippers. She turned to face the other girls, sunshine in her face. But before she could utter a word, the other girls were upon her.

“Of course, you won’t be going, Rosy Cheeks,” said they. “Everyone knows you are not a true Egyptian and besides, there is so much work to do!” And they presented the fair Greek girl with a list of chores.

The day of the celebration, the Egyptian servants set out for Memphis, while Rhodopis carried the wash down to the river. But as Rhodopis tipped the clothes into the water, she wet one of her gilded slippers; taking it from her foot she carefully set it aside to dry in the sun, then tucked the other into one of the many pockets about her dress.

Suddenly, a falcon—Horus!--appeared overhead. Swooping low, the falcon snatched up the drying slipper, then returned to the sky flying toward Memphis. When the falcon god Horus reached Memphis and the celebration, he let the slipper fall into the Pharaoh’s lap.

Now, Pharaohs are clever people; some say they even speak with the gods. This Pharaoh, of course, easily recognised the falcon-fallen slipper as a sign from Horus—and he instantly resolved to take the owner as his wife.

Soon, the Pharaoh’s people came to the house of Rhodopis’ master. The three servant girls each tried the slipper. It fitted none.

The three Egyptians were loath to tell the Pharaoh’s men about Rhodopis but they soon heard about her all the same. And so the Greek girl was brought forward to try the slipper—and of course it fit, and of course she produced its mate—and the Pharaoh took her to wife, as he had said.


Note: I originally included names for the servants in this retelling. After some thought and discussion, I have decided to remove them.

Footnotes:

[1] The other variant of Cinderella from antiquity is Yeh-Hsien.
[2] I have seen these listed as gold, rose-hued, and simply slippers.

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