THE FROST KING’S BRIDES

A Russian Cinderella

Words and Lyrics Music

by by

MARY WHEELER IGOR STRAVINSKY,

SERGEI PROKOFIEV,

and

ALEXANDER GLAZANOUV

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Marfa Karenina, a peasant girl

Kyril Karenina, her father, a poor peasant

Nianya Karamazov­Karenina, his evil­tempered second wife

Vera Karamazov, mean step­sister

Masha Karamazov, mean step­sister

Grifka, Marfa’s prophetic dog

Katya Shostakovitch, a village crone

Natasha Turgenev, a village crone

Glinka Gorky, a village crone

Morozko, the Frost King

Boris Bluetoes, Morozko’s right­hand Minion

Minionette, Leader of the small Minions of Winter

Fr. Foodhardy, the priest

Woodcutter

Shoemaker

Peasant children

2

ACT I

SCENE 1­Snowy roads, deep in old Russia, winter.

#1:OVERTURE (Orchestra)

#2:FROZEN VOLGA (Peasants)

(After the OVERTURE, THE PEASANTS trudge along)

PEASANTS

RUSSIA IS STARK, WINTER IS DEEP.

KYRIL

WHEN THERE’S NO SUPPER AT NIGHT, A PEASANT CANNOT SLEEP

CHILDREN

COLD TO THE BONE,TOO HUNGRY TO CRY.

WOMEN

SAY YOUR BEADS AND STOP YOUR COMPLAINING, PRAY YOU DO NOT DIE.

WOODCUTTER

I AM A WOODCUTTER, MY HANDS ARE KNOTS.

SHOEMAKER

I AM A SHOEMAKER, NO LEATHER DO I GOTS.

3

CRONES

WE’RE THE LOCAL WIDOWS.

BOY, ARE WE LONELY.

HUDDLE TOGETHER, GOSSIP IS WARM.

PEASANTS

WINTER REALLY ROTS.

WINTER REALLY ROTS.

HEAR THE ICE CRACK, SEE THE RIVER HEAVE.

COLD AND BROKE, HUNGRY AND POOR.

FR. FOODHARDY

AND NOW I’M GONNA SNEEZE.

PEASANTS

(THE PEASANTS break into fits of sneezing)

A­CHOO, A­CHOO, A­CHOO.

NATASHA

ALWAYS I AM SICK.

KATYA

I CANNOT PAY MY BILLS.

GLINKA

CART MY BODY LEGIONS AWAY, ACROSS THESE FROZEN HILLS.

4

PEASANTS

A CURSE UPON THIS LAND. A CURSE UPON ALL TOIL.

NIANYA

I WANT CANDLES ON CAKE FOR MY DAUGHTERS.

VERA AND MASHA

FILL MY LAMP WITH OIL.

PEASANTS

FILL MY LAMP WITH OIL.

LONG HAVE WE WAITED FOR A KINDER DAY.

LISTEN AT THE WINDOWS, YOU CAN HEAR THE WIDOWS PRAY:

CRONES

WHERE ARE THE MENFOLK? I MUST REMARRY.

WITHOUT A HUSBAND, LIFE IS A DRUDGE.

NATASHA

SEND ONE RIGHT AWAY.

KATYA

A HUSBAND IN A SLEIGH.

GLINKA

I HAVEN’T GOT ALL DAY.

5

CRONES

BEARING GIFTS OF CHICKEN AND WINE TO KEEP THE WOLF AWAY.

MEN

AND SPEAKING OF WOLVES, THEY PROWL THESE WOODS IN PACKS.

DON’T LIMP, DON’T TRIP AND DON’T FALL BEHIND

OR ELSE YOU’LL BE THEIR SNACKS.

(THE CHILDREN scream)

CHILDREN

SHIVER IN OUR BEDS, BLANKETS HAVE WE NONE.

CRONES

COLD AND BROKE, OLD AND ALONE.

CHILDREN

TELL ME WHEN IT’S FUN.

PEASANTS

SO WE TELL STORIES BY THE FIRE’S DYING LIGHT. ADD SOME EXTRA DETAILS, NO ONE’S CHECKING IF IT’S RIGHT. TELL A SKAZKA, SING A SONG.

LIFE CAN’T HELP BUT BE TOO LONG. IN THE MEANTIME, STICK TOGETHER.

CRONES

CHURN THE MILL FOR SPITE.

6

PEASANTS

IN THE MEANTIME, STICK TOGETHER.

MEN

SOMETIMES HAVE A FIGHT.

CHILDREN

IN THE MEANTIME, WHAT’S TO EAT?

PEASANTS

WINTER IN SIBERIA, A LONG, LONG, COLD VERMONT NIGHT.

(WOLVES howl.)

#3: SCENE CHANGE MUSIC 1 (Orchestra)

SCENE 2­A peasant cottage. Morning.

(VERA and MASHA are in bed, under the covers as MARFA

slaves away.)

VERA

Marfa, fetch more wood, you impudent well spout. Masha and I are

freezing to death.

MARFA

I can’t go out yet, Vera. The snow is drifted up to the door.

Father is shoveling a path.

7

MASHA

Marfa, where’s the water? Go get water for our tea, you lazy

snozzle.

MARFA

The water is warming on the stove, Masha. It was frozen solid in

the bucket this morning. My hands are blue with cold from

chopping it.

VERA

Zatknis! There’s no fire in the stove! And you haven’t fed the

horses? How will Masha and I get to our French lessons in the

village?

MASHA

Oui! And what about the chickens? We’ll have no eggs for supper

tonight. Useless girl.

(NIANYA enters, brushing hair, picks hairs from brush,

drops them on floor.)

NIANYA

A lazybones good­for­nothing, just like her mother before her.

Good for nothing but the rag bin and the compost heap.

MASHA

Mother, we tell her to get busy. She only flies in our faces.

8

NIANYA

A slovenly, ill­tempered slattern. Just like the woman who bore

you. And now you bore me. Vera. Masha. Do you notice how the

pots and pans are not in their places? And the oven fork does

not stand straight in its corner? And the entire cottage lies

under a pall of dust and soot?

VERA

My asthma. Where’s my inhaler?

(VERA coughs, sputters, and dives under the

covers.MASHA hits VERA)

MASHA

I’m the one with the dust allergy.

NIANYA

This is the work of an idle mind. The devil’s workshop. Marfa,

you should be ashamed. I’m ashamed. Vera and Masha are ashamed.

But most of all, your father is ashamed. The shame of a useless

daughter will drive a man grieving to his grave.

MASHA

How can I wash my delicate skin when she hasn’t even heated the

water?

9

VERA

How can I set foot out of bed with no firewood brought in? I’ll

freeze into an igloo.

MASHA

Why isn’t breakfast on the table? And we don’t want porridge

again.

VERA

I want sausages dripping with oil.

MASHA

I want oat cakes soaked in butter and honey.

MARFA

But Vera and Masha, we don’t even have any flour.

MASHA

Then go to the miller’s and get some, lummox!

VERA

I want gravy.

MARFA

We have no money for the miller. Besides, the paths through the

woods are choked with snow from the blizzard last night. We’ve

10

MARFA(CONT’D)

no sausages left in the smokehouse. There is nothing but a

little cornmeal in the bottom of the barrel.

NIANYA

Enough about your problems! Get to work. If you had planned

ahead, there would be oatcakes and molasses. A stitch in time.

Omelets and fricassee. There would be jambalaya. Your father

may indulge you, he may overlook your faults and shortcomings,

but I’m no fool. If my own two nesting doves can’t wake up to a

proper nourishing breakfast – fit for princesses – then it’s

high time you looked for a new home.

#4: WHERE DID MY MOTHER GO? (MARFA)

(GRIFKA bounds in, noisily.)

#5: A PAW IN THE SNOW (GRIFKA,MARFA)

MARFA

Grifka! Are you hungry, boy? Are you a good doggy woggy? Are you

happy to see me?

(MARFA takes something from her apron, and feeds

GRIFKA.)

11

VERA

Mother! Did you see that? She’s giving our sausages to the dog!

I knew she had sausages. If I could get out of this bed, I’d

chase her down and have my revenge.

MASHA

If I wasn’t delicate, I’d get up and have your revenge, too.

MARFA

Come, Grifka. Come with Marfa. We’ll fetch wood and water and

I’ll tell you a skazka about a magical dog and his friends, the

dancing birds and singing fish. You can tell me another

prophecy. Just like you foretold the blizzard would come last

night. And it did!

NIANYA

The girl has a noodle for brains. A dog who can tell the future!

Bah.

(SHE mimics MARFA)

Dancing birds. Singing fishies.

(SHE spits)

What’s next? Violin­playing tortoises?

(VERA and MASHA laugh. GRIFKA snarls, which silences

THEM.)

12

MARFA

Come, Grifka. Soon you will have enough to eat. Soon you will

have medicine and you’ll be well again.

(SHE wraps GRIFKA in a thin shawl, and THEY exit)

NIANYA

Stupid girl and her stupid mutt. I wouldn’t cry if they

accidentally fell in the frozen pond and we just barely didn’t

make it in time to save them.

(SHE calls shrilly)

Old man! There’s wood to chop! There are horses to dig out of

the snow! Stop limping around, vying for sympathy. Replacement

hip, my eye! Be a man, not the boy who cried wolf!

(KYRIL enters from outside, shivering and limping.)

KYRIL

Second wife, I’ve been clearing the path. I’m nearly finished,

Nianya.

NIANYA

You look nearly finished off. And don’t call me Second Wife or

I’ll be making you Dead Husband. What good is a path with

nowhere to go in this two­bit village outskirts? Marfa will

finish clearing the path. You – stoke our fire. What kind of man

13

NIANYA (CONT’D)

lets his wife freeze? Rub my toes, Kyril. They’re frostbitten.

Blow on my fingers. They’re brittle. Watch the nail polish.My

nose – does it look blue? Are the veins popping like the red

lines on an atlas?

(KYRIL pokes the fire.)

KYRIL

Good morning, daughters of my Second Wife.

(NIANYA grabes the poker)

NIANYA

Stick to business, Dead Husband. And Kyril, we have something to

discuss at supper tonight. Something B­I­G.

KYRIL

Yes, Nianya. B­I­G.

NIANYA

H­U­G­E. Something very I­M­P…I­M­M…I­R­M…something serious! Do

you hear me? Where on earth can a woman get a decent manicure in

a dump like this?

KYRIL

It’s a bitterly cold morning. Where is little Marfa?

14

NIANYA

Your precious Marfuska is slow with her duties, as usual. Do you

think I should pluck my eyebrows? Have them shaped and lifted? I

could have been a Tzarina. In another life.

KYRIL

(Mutters)

One life is more than enough.

NIANYA

Or a dancer with the Bolshoi Ballet. Perhaps there’s still time.

(NIANYA does a stumbling leap.)

VERA & MASHA

Oh, Mother. You’re Nureyev! Barishnikov! Pavlova!

(KYRIL picks up MARFA’s scarf.)

KYRIL

Here is Marfuska’s scarf. Has she gone outside? Without her

scarf?

(NIANYA grabs MARFA’s scarf)

15

NIANYA

It’s her own fault if she catches her death. What kind of father

are you to let her be so willful? No father at all! What she

needs is a husband. A husband to take charge of her, once and

for all. That’s what a husband is supposed to be good for.

Where’s my wrinkle cream?

VERA

Will you find me a husband, too? Once and for all?

MASHA

I want a husband. I should get one first. I’m delicate.

NIANYA

Yes, my doves, you will have husbands, God forgive me. If I find

out she’s been using my ointment on that dog again – yes, my

nightingales. The money we spend on her upkeep, we soon will be

able to spend on your bridal gowns, your wedding cakes, wedding

musicians, wedding feasts. And such feasts, I get fat just

thinking about them.

KYRIL

Please, Nianya, don’t talk that way. Marfa is still but a child.

NIANYA

Girls, do I look bloated? Or is it just this skirt? Kyril! She

is the eldest, child or not. She is a nuisance, a drain on our

16

NIANYA (CONT’D)

micro economy. Out she goes. Old man! The wood does not chop

itself.

(KYRIL painfully exits.)

That, girls, is not a man. That, girls, is what you call getting

old and desperate and taking the first thing that comes along

and asks you to marry it because it needs a mother for its first

wife’s child.

(NIANYA picks up a mirror.)

I’m seriously considering that hair piece at Madame Holst’s

salon.

VERA

I want the redhead one that looks like Jello ringlets.

MASHA

I want the bologna sausage wig. I’m the one with thin hair. And

give me the covers, Vera! You’re freezing my legs.

VERA

Masha, you have enough fat on those legs to keep a horse from

freezing.

MASHA

Mother! Vera’s distorting my self­image.

17

VERA

I’ll distort your face! When will we have food again?

NIANYA

Please, you two, you’re giving me a three­Motrin headache. How’s

my posture?

#6:SCENE CHANGE MUSIC 2 (Orchestra)

SCENE 3­Night­time, supper.

(NIANYA, KYRIL, MARFA, VERA, and MASHA sit around the

meager table.)

VERA

What is it, Mother? What’s the surprise? Tell us, tell us, tell

us!

MASHA

Is it chocolate from St. Petersburg, Mother? Oh, please!

Chocolate in a painted tin?

VERA

I get to keep the tin, called it!

(MASHA hits VERA)

MASHA

You got it last time, hog! Chocolate with pyraniki!

18

VERA

Made of sugar and cream and almond paste.

MASHA

Chocolate with gooey cherries.

VERA

Is it the silk tassels you promised for my embroidery? Red and

gold?

MASHA

Is it the pen and bottled ink you promised last Christmas and

lied to us? The bottle in the shape of the Tzar’s summer palace?

MARFA

Father, is it medicine for Grifka? At last? Is he going to be

well?

NIANYA

Quiet, you! The thought of spending money on a dog! Pearls

before swine! And you have a big black smeary smudge right on

your little pink cheek. Again.

(NIANYA licks her finger to wipe it off, but makes it

worse.)

KYRIL

Don’t worry, Marfuska mine. Grifka is getting stronger.

19

MARFA

But Father, his skin is showing through his coat. It’s a harsh

winter. How will he stay warm when Nianya won’t allow him in the

house?

NIANYA

Of course I allow him in the house.

KYRIL

Only at night.

NIANYA

He’s a watchdog. That’s what a dog is for. I suppose you,

Marfuskaka, would be a better housekeeper? Well, you’ll soon

have your chance.

MARFA

No, Nianya. It’s only that I’m afraid for Grifka. His skin is

raw in patches.

(NIANYA laughs.)

NIANYA

If it were up to you, we’d have pigs sleeping in the pantry.

We’d have vermin snuggled in the straw of our mattresses. You

20

NIANYA(CONT’D)

needn’t worry about your precious dog. Or anything else. Ever

again. That is the big surprise. Is my rouge on straight?

KYRIL

What do you mean, Nianya?

MASHA

What?! A surprise for Marfa? I want a surprise. Me, me, me!

VERA

Me, me, me, me, me!

(NIANYA stands, and says to KYRIL:)

NIANYA

Tomorrow morning, rise early. Harness the horses and ready the

sledge for a long journey into the woods.

VERA

It’s not fair! I want to go in the sledge. No fair, no fair, no

fair.

MASHA

Me, me, me, me, me!

21

NIANYA

Quiet, my chick peas. Do I have an eyelash in my eye, Vera?

This non­clumping mascara, worthless. And you, little Marfuska,

pack your comb and your extra sock into that ratty basket with

the broken handle that’s leaning against the pigeon roost.

MASHA

That’s my basket.

NIANYA

It’s also buried under eight feet of snow. Marfa, you shall go

with your father on a visit. In fact, a permanent visit. I have

found you a bridegroom, praise be to God. Ooof. I’ve got cramps.

Curse the female form.

VERA

I want chocolate. You promised chocolate. In a painted tin.

MASHA

And when do I get a bridegroom, huh? Why does she get one first?

I’m –

NIANYA

Delicate, yes, we know. Hush, my olive trees, my enclosed

gardens. Kyril the Virile, you will drive into the forest. Find

the tallest pine tree. There, beneath its boughs, you shall

leave Marfa. Her bridegroom will meet her there. It is all

22

NIANYA(CONT’D)

arranged. He is young and strong. He leaps from tree to tree. He

is Morozko, the Frost King.

(SHE laughs. MARFA moans. KYRIL chokes.)

Stop that ungrateful noise! Why should you weep and choke like

you’ve haddock bones in your gullet?

VERA

Morozko is handsome. His hair glitters with streaks of painted

frost. Like Orlando Bloom’s.

MASHA

I liked him better in the first Lord of the Rings.

VERA

Me, too. He didn’t look as good in The Hobbit.

NIANYA

Girls, we don’t have movies in long ago Russia.

MASHA

Morozko the Frost King is rich. The trees are covered head to

foot in piles of his silver.

VERA

You will be the envy of all the village girls.

23

NIANYA

Or at least the village idiot.

MASHA

Decked out in gowns of ice.

VERA

Necklaces of beaded snow.

MASHA

Your robes glinting like frozen diamonds.

VERA

Your eyelids blue.

MASHA

Your throat forever white.

#7: MOROZKO RAP (MASHA, VERA)

MASHA & VERA

MAYBE YOU HAVE HEARD THAT HIS MOODS ARE QUICK AND CRUEL.

AND ALL YOU EAT IS ICE CUBES AND FROSTED FLAKEY GRUEL.

BUT HE’LL COVER YOU IN SNOWFLAKES,ADORN YOUR HEAD WITH JEWELS.

YOU’LL WALK THE WINTER RUNWAY LOOKING ABSOLUTELY COOL.

24

MASHA & VERA (CONT’D)

FROM WHERE WE’RE STANDING, IT’S A PRETTY GOOD DEAL,

FROM WHERE WE SIT YOU’VE GOT NOTHING TO FEEL

EXCEPT GRATITUDE FOR THE LUCKY LADY CHANCE

TO LIVE LIKE A QUEEN IN MOROZKO’S DANCE.

SILLY CHURL, STUPID GIRL,

CAN’T YOU SEE YOUR FORTUNE’S RISING?

SILLY CHURL, STUPID GIRL,

YOU’RE OUTTA HERE, NO COMPROMISING.

FROM WHERE WE’RE STANDING, IT’S A PRETTY GOOD DEAL,

FROM WHERE WE SIT YOU’VE GOT NOTHING TO FEEL

EXCEPT GRATITUDE FOR THE LUCKY LADY CHANCE

TO LIVE LIKE A QUEEN IN MOROZKO’S DANCE.

PACK TONIGHT, WRAP IT TIGHT,

HE’S YOUR HUSBAND, NO DEBATE.

PACK TONIGHT, WRAP IT TIGHT,

NOW WE GET TO CELEBRATE!

CELEBRATE!

CE­LE­BRATE!

25

(THEY end in a heap of laughter. MARFA runs out. KYRIL

thumps table, and is glared down by NIANYA.)

#8:EMBATTLED EMBALMED (Kyril,Nianya)

#9:SCENE CHANGE MUSIC 3 (Orchestra)

SCENE 4­The winter woods. Next day.

(MARFA, alone under tall snow­clad tree, huddles on

the trunk.)

#10:ENTRANCE OF MOROZKO (Orchestra)

(MOROZKO and MINIONS process. Music and bells are

heard. THEY hiss. THEY dance toward MARFA, closer and

closer, until THEY begin retreating. SHE shivers

violently, then sings:)

#11: MARFA AND MOROZKO (Marfa, Morozko)

MARFA

FATHER, WILL YOU COME BACK FOR ME?

MAYBE BRINGING HONEY TO PUT IN OUR TEA.

YOU COULD LIGHT A FIRE AND SIT BY MY SIDE,

AND TELL ME A SKAZKA OF THE COUNTRYSIDE.

I WOULDN’T BE LONELY IF GRIFKA WERE HERE

TO WARM UP MY HANDS AND LICK AWAY MY TEARS.

26

MARFA (CONT’D)

I WOULDN’T LACK A FRIEND WITH HIS GENTLE LOVING EYES,

LYING COZY AT MY FEET, SIGHING PUPPY SIGHS.

MOROZKO

Are you warm, little maiden? In the sunlight are you basking?

MARFA

Quite warm, good sir and I thank you for asking.

MOROZKO

Is it quite, quite warm, your breath upon the air?

MARFA

Oh, yes, good king. See the ice that’s in my hair?

MOROZKO

You look like Snegurochka with snowflakes on your nose.

MARFA

My feet are so warm I can hardly feel my toes.

MOROZKO

Who has sent thee out with nothing but a shawl?

MARFA

Only my forgetful self. I’m hardly cold at all.

27

MOROZKO

Why do you sit here, waiting in the cold?

MARFA

It’s a daughter’s duty to do as she is told.

MOROZKO

What if that duty leads her to her death?

MARFA

Then she must forgive him with her final breath.

FATHER, WILL YOU COME BACK FOR ME?

MAYBE BRINGING HONEY TO PUT IN OUR TEA.

YOU COULD LIGHT A FIRE AND SIT BY MY SIDE,

AND TELL ME A SKAZKA OF THE COUNTRYSIDE.

MOROZKO

ARE YOU INDEED WARM, MY COOING, PRETTY DOVE?

DO THE COCKLES OF YOUR PRETTY HEART BURN FOR ME WITH LOVE?

AS HEATED AS A FIRE WHEN IT’S BURNING BRIGHT AND COLD

MARFA

(fading)

Warmth…comes…from God…and so does…the cold.

(MARFA’s head falls forward.)

28

#12: ACT I FINALE (Orchestra)

(MOROZKO and HIS MINIONS stop in their tracks, then

dance. THEY lift MARFA and dance her about.)

END OF ACT I.

ACT II

#13: ENTR’ACTE (Orchestra)

SCENE 5­The peasant cottage. Next day.

(NIANYA is mixing batter, humming happily.

KATYA,NATASHA, and GLINKA are seated at the table.

GRIFKA is sleeping beneath.)

NIANYA

The old man has gone in the sledge to get the girl.

KATYA

The old fool has gone in the sledge to get the fool of a girl.

NATASHA

The fool old man has gone to beget a girl in the old sledge.

NIANYA

A shame to waste good flour on her funeral cakes.

29

KATYA

A shame to waste good flour on what Nianya bakes.

GLINKA

I dearly love funeral cakes. Don’t waste the flour.

NIANYA

We must send for the priest. Within the half hour.

KATYA, NATASHA, & GLIKA

We must send for the priest. Don’t waste the flour!

#14: PLANNING THE FUNERAL (Nianya,Crones,Orchestra)

(NIANYA and THE CRONES begin to plan the funeral, in

time with the music)

NIANYA

AND WE SHALL WEAR BLACK FOR A LONG, LONG TIME.

BLACK IS MY COLOR; I WORE IT IN MY PRIME.

KATYA

NATASHA’S SHINING VEIL IS THREE FEET LONG

IT DRAGS ON THE GROUND AND FOLLOWS HER ALONG.

NATASHA

KATYA’S BLACK SILK GOWN HAS A WOVEN VELVET BODICE

IMPORTED FROM MOSCOW, IT ISN’T VERY MODEST.

30

GLINKA

I’LL FETCH MY BLACK HAT FROM THE TIPPY TOPPY SHELF,

WHICH THE TZAR GAVE TO MY FATHER AS A PRESENT FROM HIMSELF,

WHO GAVE IT TO MY SISTER ON HER WEDDING DAY.

THE WOLVES SADLY GOT HER AS THEY DROVE THEIR SLEIGH AWAY.

KATYA

NOT MUCH OF HER TO BURY, BUT GLINKA GOT THE HAT.

GLINKA

NOT MUCH OF HER LEFT OVER, BUT HER BONES AND SOME FAT.

A PITY, THOUGH HER HAT COMPLEMENTS MY SPLENDID HAIR.

WOLVES REALLY AREN’T SO BAD. AND FATE IS SOMETIMES FAIR.

#15: KYRIL’S SOLILOQUY (Kyril)

KYRIL

NOW HER BED STANDS EMPTY

I MUST BEAR THE BLAME.

WHAT A COWARD LIVES IN ME.

I HANG MY HEAD IN SHAME.

COLD THE NIGHT IS HOWLING,

SAVAGE WIND BLOWS WILD.

NEVER CAN FORGIVE MYSELF.

I’VE KILLED MY ONLY CHILD.

31

KYRIL (CONT’D)

NOW MY CONSCIENCE SUFFERS ME

DEATH EXTENDS ITS HAND.

ALL MY DAYS OF SUN ARE GONE.

I’M NOT A GOOD ­­

LITTLE MARFA NEEDED ME ­­

I’M NOT A GOOD MAN.

(Suddenly,GRIFKA bursts forth from beneath the table.)

#16: GRIFKA’s PROPHECY (Grifka, Orchestra)

GRIFKA

(Spoken in time)

THE MASTER’S DAUGHTER COMES WITH SILVER AND GOLD

BUT THE STEP­MOTHER’S DAUGHTERS WILL DIE IN THE COLD.

(HE howls a long howl.)

NIANYA

Be still, you booby. Here is a pancake for a good little Grifka

doggy woggy.

(NIANYA offers GRIFKA a pancake.HE refuses.)

NATASHA

Wait. Katya, what did the dog just say?

32

KATYA

It’s a prophecy, Natasha.

GLINKA

He’s a spirit dog.

NIANYA

This flea bag? Come, now, Grifka. Don’t be proud. Here is a

pancake, a sugary pancake for a good little bowser wowser who

says only nice things about my girls.

(NIANYA offers the pancake again. GRIFKA sniffs the

pancake. HE refuses.)

NATASHA

I once had a spirit cat like that. She said, “Your husband, he

will fall into the well and he will die on the very same day.”

KATYA

And don’t tell me. He fell.

NATASHA

He fell. I’m not saying he didn’t have help.

NIANYA

Look, little Grifka. With sugar and eggs and nice white flour we

haven’t tasted since last Easter. What a shame to waste it. But

33

NIANYA (CONT’D)

if Grifka doesn’t want it, I’m sure Natasha’s cat will love it.

Here, kitty, kitty.

NATASHA

I don’t have the cat anymore. My husband was holding her. Not

that he had help, but he fell. Two birds with one stone. Down

they went. I hated that cat.

(NIANYA holds the pancake to GRIFKA’S nose.)

NIANYA

Doesn’t it smell delicious? And hot? Grade A maple syrup.

(GRIFKA grabs the pancake, and dives under the table.)

GRIFKA

Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!

NATASHA

Now…that…I could never get my cat to recite poetry.

NIANYA

Little Grifka Shnifka, you must say this instead (or I’ll slap

you in the head):

34

NIANYA (CONT’D)

(in time)

THE MASTER’S DAUGHTER IS STIFF WITH THE COLD

BUT THE MISTRESS’S DAUGHTERS WILL HAVE SILVER AND GOLD.

KATYA

And long strings of cultured pearls.

NATASHA

And hair done up in coiffured curls.

GLINKA

And crispy hunks of bacon. Dripping with fat.

KATYA

Ah, yes, bacon. Let’s not forget that.

NATASHA

Bacon with blood sausages tucked on the side.

GLINKA

Miles and miles of sausages. I wish I were the bride.

#17:GRIFKA’S SECOND PROPHECY (Grifka,Orchestra)

GRIFKA

THE MASTER’S DAUGHTER COMES WITH SILVER AND GOLD

BUT THE STEP­MOTHER’S DAUGHTERS WILL DIE IN THE COLD.

35

(GRIFKA howls a long, long howl, and NIANYA Flies into

a rage.)

NIANYA

Get out! Get out of my house! Ungrateful wretch! Ugly, stupid

beast! May you choke on that pancake. May you develop scabrous

ulcers. May your tail fall off and beat you about the head with

itself.

(NIANYA runs GRIFKA out the door.)

NATASHA

Careful, Nianya, never anger a spirit animal. Never. What would

Alfred Hitchcock do?

GLINKA

Your hair’s falling out of piece. Your hairpiece. Out of place.

KATYA

Your cheeks are flushed scarlet, not a flattering color. And

that heavy breathing, ach.

GLINKA

Nianya, you never were one to pull off the dishabille look. Calm

down. Remember the Mrs. Russian Peasant competition.

36

NIANYA

(Instantly composing herself.)

It’s next week. Do you think I have a chance?

(Lights down, then up on KYRIL)

#18:REGRETS (Kyril)

(As the song ends, GRIFKA suddenly bounds out from

under table, and barks happily and jumps up and down

at the window.)

NIANYA

Hark, hark, the dog does bark. What’s this? What’s this? Darn,

it’s only the UPS man going to the neighbor’s house again. The

brown truck. The packages. The cute guy in the brown uniform.

Always it’s for the neighbors.

KATYA

He brought me a solid brass samovar from Odessa just last week.

GLINKA

Get out. From The International House of Must Haves? With the

nesting dolls inside?

KATYA

On sale.

37

NIANYA

I’ve been after Kyril about that samovar for months. How does he

think I can make ends meet when I don’t have a single must­have?

NATASHA

What’s ends meat?

GLINKA

You know, Natasha, the ends of lunchmeat – bologna, salami ­­

you get them at the deli, real cheap.

NATASHA

Glinka, how are you supposed to make ends meat if you have to

buy it at the deli?

(GRIFKA barks, happily, at the window.)

NIANYA

Vera! Masha! Come quick! The sledge! The sledge is returning.

Come see what the wolf dragged in. Come see your ice­caked

sister’s frozen body! Oh, frabjous day, Callooh! Callay!

(SHE does a dance step.)

GLINKA

Uh, Nianya.

38

KATYA

Lewis Carroll?

NATASHA

In Old Russia?

GLINKA

I don’t think so.

NIANYA

No, really, look! The troika comes whiffling through the tulgey

wood!

(VERA and MASHA run in)

NIANYA

Sit down, girls. Try to act distraught.

VERA

Dis­what?

KATYA

It means crying copious tears.

NATASHA

Tearing your hair. Rending your garments.

39

GLINKA

Beating your breast. Falling to the ground in atonement.

KATYA

Sackcloth and ashes.

NATASHA

Nianya, is your hair shirt back from the cleaners?

NIANYA

Are my shoulder pads even? Girls! Pretend to be in mourning.

MASHA

But, Mother, duh? It’s the middle of the afternoon.

NIANYA

Hush, my Dove Bars. Wipe your eyes. Dab your noses.

(VERA and MASHA begin to cry crocodile tears. KYRIL

enters with MARFA, in furs, and her trunk.)

KYRIL

Disappointed Second Wife! Unfortunate Step­Daughters! Aged,

Useless, Parasitic and Unmarriageable Village Crones! Look! Our

little Marfa has been greatly blessed by fortune!

40

MARFA

Mother, you spoke the truth about Morozko the Frost King. Most

handsome and rich. And he is generous beyond words. Look at his

gifts. And…

(SHE twirls)

…he Dances with Wolves.

KYRIL

I thought you said he was Dancing With the Stars?

MARFA

Yes, that, too.

(THE CRONES, NIANYA, VERA, and MASHA gather greedily

around trunk, which is laden with furs and jewels,

etc.)

NIANYA

Furs…sable! Mink! Little foxy woxies!

(SHE cries copious tears.)

VERA

Bracelets! Rings! All manner of glittery things!

(SHE tears her hair.)

41

MASHA

Velvet gowns! Underthings! The likes of which I’ve never

dreamed!

(SHE beats her breast and falls to the ground in

atonement.)

KATYA

Ach, Natasha, who can bear the thought of Nianya and one of her

shrieking rages?

NATASHA

Glinka, we must slinka.

(GLINKA looks puzzled.)

Slinka.

(SHE whispers.)

Slink a­way unnoticed.

GLINKA

There will be much wailing and gnashing of her wooden choppers

in this house tonight.

KATYA

It will be a blood bath.

42

NATASHA

A blood­letting.

GLINKA

A blood curse.

GRIFKA

She shouldn’t have counted her chickens.

NIANYA

(To KYRIL.)

You! Do not unhitch the sledge. At first light, you shall drive

my daughters to Morozko the Frost King. Girls, do you hear the

quaver in my voice? I may be getting dehydrated. It’s the diet

pills.

KYRIL

Wife. The horses are worn out. So am I.

NIANYA

Real men don’t get worn out. Or eat quiche. Oh, I’m warm. Am I

running a fever? Natasha, could it be…you know…the change?

NATASHA

Spring is coming. The change in seasons always does that. Just

put an ice pack on it.

43

NIANYA

On what?

NATASHA

On whatever starts to heat up too hot.

NIANYA

Even…down there?

NATASHA

Down where?

NIANYA

Where the temperature rises. When the change starts to happen.

NATASHA

You mean Florida?

NIANYA

(To KYRIL.)

Go! Real men don’t eavesdrop on women’s talk!

(SHE chases KYRIL out.)

VERA

Morozko will give us richer, better, nicer gifts than these!

44

MASHA

But I don’t want to freeze. And sneeze.

(She sneezes a while, then whimpers.)

NIANYA

Enough already. You will do as I say. In the morning, you will

go with your useless father into the deep and frozen woods. Stop

sniveling. You will wait below the tallest pine tree. You will

count to…oh…a very high number. And you will wait. Oh, stifle

your snot.

(VERA and MASHA grow quiet.)

When you return, I’ll welcome you with borscht and potato

dumplings swimming in greasy goose fat. Then I’ll help you

unload our – I mean your – riches. Then you will shower me – I

mean us – with wealth and status symbols. Then I – I mean we –

will be fat as grubs forever and ever. Someone fan me, I’m

beginning to swoon.

CRONES

Look to the lady!

#19 SCENE CHANGE MUSIC 3 (Orchestra)

SCENE 2­Deep in the frozen winter woods, the next day.

(VERA and MASHA, bundled up, are huddled beneath the tree. Music

underscores.

45

#20­ MOROZKO AND THE STEPSISTERS (Orchestra)

VERA

Morozko must be a perfect dolt!

MASHA

His brain is frozen. Wasting his riches on peasants!

VERA

(SHE whimpers.)

I’m so cold. Who knows but that the devil himself may not come

here? Then what would we do?

(THEY laugh uneasily.)

MASHA

I will spit in his face and tweak his hairy horns.

(VERA shivers violently.)

VERA

Actually, the fires of hell don’t sound so bad right about now.

MASHA

The frost is chilling my delicate bones. What if only one

bridegroom comes? Who will he choose?

46

VERA

I suppose you think it will be you, inkspot on a toad’s fat

behind.

MASHA

And are you so certain it will be you, pockmark on a lizard’s

eyelid?

VERA

Stop hogging the blanket, boar bristle chin.

MASHA

Those are my mittens, pizza face!

(Bells are heard ringing. Wind is heard blowing.

MOROZKO and HIS MINIONS draw near.)

VERA

Hark, Masha, he comes! Does he not drive with bells on his

sledge?

MASHA

To warn away the wolves. How strong he must be. How dangerous.

(THE STEPSISTERS begin doing a handclapping singsong

to the text of “By the pricking of my thumbs” from

Macbeth, ACT IV, SCENE II.)

47

VERA & MASHA

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

(MOROZKO swoops in, and approaches them)

MOROZKO

Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, little pigeon droppings?

VERA

Like, we are practically frozen to death!

MASHA

What took you so long? Get on with it already!

MOROZKO

Are you warm, maidens? Are you warm, unlovely ones?

VERA

Look, we’ve had no breakfast. This is awkward.

MASHA

And inconvenient.

VERA

You’ve kept us waiting.

48

MASHA

It’s unconscionable.

VERA

Our stomachs are rattling.

MASHA

Sitting all morning with our backsides glued to a frozen stump.

MOROZKO

Are you quite, quite warm, my screeching doves?

VERA

Are you, or are you not, the alleged bridegroom? The Big and

Famous Frost King?

MASHA

Let me see some credentials, boyo.

VERA

You’re a fake. The big strong Moron­sko must be lost somewhere

in this wasteland of wind­ravaged, frost­bitten stunted cedar

woods.

MASHA

While we sit here, shivering, shaking and not supposed to talk

to strangers.

49

MASHA(CONT’D)

(To Vera.)

I said: give me my mittens!

VERA

I’ll tie this blanket around your scraggy giraffe neck and leave

you here for the wolves.

#21­ STEPSISTERS’QUARREL (Orchestra)

(THE STEPSISTERS’ quarrel intensifies. )

#22­ DEATH OF THE STEPSISTERS (Orchestra)

(MOROZKO and HIS MINIONS encircle THE STEPSISTERS.

MOROZKO and HIS MINIONS dance. THE STEPSISTERS freeze

to death.)

#23­ SCENE CHANGE MUSIC 4 (Orchestra)

SCENE 3­The cottage, next morning.

(NIANYA dressed in black, kneels wailing beside the

corpses of VERA and MASHA laid out on the table,

barefoot, while KATYA, NATASHA and GLINKA sit nearby,

in black, feasting. Meanwhile, MARFA and KYRIL spoon

medicine into GRIFKA’s mouth.)

50

#24­ CRONES’ CORONACH (Crones)

CRONES

WE’VE BEEN SITTING UP ALL NIGHT WITH TWO DEAD GIRLS

TRYING TO UNFREEZE THEIR FROZEN SAUSAGE CURLS

(THEY take out blow driers)

EVEN THOUGH THE ICICLES HAVE MELTED FROM THEIR FINGERS

THE SMELL OF ROTTEN FLESH IS THE ONLY THING THAT LINGERS

(THEY take out surgical masks)

VERA AND MASHA, THEY ARE DEAD, DEAD, DEAD.

RING A RING OF ROSES ROUND THEIR SORRY LITTLE HEADS.

WHAT THEY WANTED MOST WAS WEALTH AND ALL ITS PHONY TRAPPINGS,

BUT NOW WHAT THEY LOOK FORWARD TO IS MUMMY WRAPPINGS.

(THEY take out scissors and bandages)

HAD THEY NEVER BEEN QUITE SO IMPOSSIBLE

MAYBE THEY’D BE SITTING HERE, COMFORTABLE AND FULL,

POLISHING THEIR TOENAILS, DOING NOTHING DIRE,

INSTEAD OF MEDITATING THE ETERNAL FIRE.

(THEY take out devil masks)

VERA AND MASHA, THEY ARE DEAD, DEAD, DEAD,

LYING DOWN FOREVER IN THEIR DEAD MAN’S BED.

LOUDLY HOW THEY ONCE COMPLAINED THEIR LIVES WERE IN A RUT.

AND NOW THE REAPER PROVES IT WHEN THE LID’S NAILED SHUT.

51

(Hammering and church bells are heard)

(KYRIL is feeding GRIFKA cakes)

KYRIL

And you will grow into a strong, wise dog, little Grifka. Not

that you aren’t wise already. In the spring, you will run and

play on the hillside and your sickness will be far behind you.

MARFA

And Father, you, too, shall be well. The pharmacist arrives

tomorrow with medicine for your legs. The waters have thawed and

he’ll be yo­ho­heave­hoed up the river by the Volga Boatmen.

KYRIL

(Sadly.)

And yet they were my daughters, my little ones, before hunger

and fear turned their hearts to rotten apples.

MARFA

(Passionately.)

O my dear father! Restoration hang

Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss

Repair those violent harms that my two sisters

Have in thy reverence made!

(SHE kisses HIM)

52

KYRIL

My child. I don’t think Shakespeare has made his way into Russia

yet.

CRONES, GRIFKA

We beg to differ.

#25: ENTRANCE OF FR. FOODHARDY (Orchestra)

(FR. FOODHARDY enters, carrying holy oils.)

FR. FOODHARDY

I have come.

CRONES

Hum­de­dum.

KYRIL

Welcome to our home, Father Foodhardy, during this time of grave

misfortune.

GRIFKA

A little pun there. Grave. Misfortune.

(FR. FOODHARDY bumps into the corpses)

FR. FOODHARDY

Ah, yes, a pun. A pun. And where are the buns? Pun. Bun. A

little rhyme there.

53

KYRIL

Here, Father Foodhardy, a meager funeral repast.

(HE offers FR. FOODHARDY a lemon poppy seed muffins.

FR. FOODHARDY takes the muffin)

FR. FOODHARDY

Past or present, food is food.

(FR. FOODHARDY eats the muffin appreciatively as all

watch.)

Delicious. Are these lemon poppy seed muffins? I love poppy

seeds. Just don’t ask me to undergo a drug test anytime soon.

Har!

MARFA

It’s an old Slavic recipe from Blintzes magazine.

KYRIL

She made them for her own mother’s funeral, too. Extra poppy

seeds. Took the edge off. The other priest was here then.

Father…uh…the one who fell into the ravine and got eaten by a

band of starving gypsies. One muffin too many.

FR. FOODHARDY

Ah, yes, Fr. Fellowfell. Well. He always said his heart belonged

to the gypsies. Get it? His heart? Belonged? To the –

54

NIANYA

(Shrieking.)

Can we get on with the office of the dead already?

FR. FOODHARDY

Ah, you must be the stricken mother. Yes, yes, now then. Where

is the dearly departed?

NIANYA

You’re looking right at them.

FR. FOODHARDY

Oh, I thought the Culinary Institute had outdone itself in cake

decorating. Two dearly departed. I guess that makes them the

dearly departees.

(HE winks at the Crones.)

And where is da par­ty?

NIANYA

(Wails.)

My jewels. My doves huddled in the clefts. My insurance in my

old age.

55

FR. FOODHARDY

Would you like me to take a look at your policy? You may be

entitled –

NIANYA

Pay attention to the two corpses!

FR. FOODHARDY

The copses? You mean that small band of birch tress I passed?

NIANYA

The corpses, the corpses!

FR. FOODHARDY

Ah, yes, but what does the corpse say, that is the question. Get

it? Little pun there. The corpse says. The corpses.

(KATYA fans her face, as if FR. FOODHARDY has bad

breath.)

KATYA

Father Foodhardy, have you been eating garlic again?

(FR. FOODHARDY belches)

FR. FOODHARDY

Sorry. A tad of Genoa salami on the way over, nothing much. Is

it bad?

56

KATYA

Always carry mint leaves, Father.

GLINKA

Eye of newt and toe of frog is also good.

NATASHA

Wool of bat and tongue of dog works in a pinch.

GRIFKA

Hey, easy!

FR. FOODHARDY

Do I have poppy seeds in my teeth? That always happens.

(NIANYA grabs the butcher’s knife madly)

NIANYA

Come, thick night,

And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,

That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,

Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,

To cry, ‘Hold, hold!’

(KYRIL fights the knife away from NIANYA.)

FR. FOODHARDY

Great Glamis! She means business.

57

NIANYA

My daughters are dead! Oh, cripes, I think I just burst my

corset stays. Will you check for me, Vera? Oops. Forgot. You’re

dead.

(Shrieking again.)

In case you forgot, my daughters are dead.

(SHE wails.)

FR. FOODHARDY

Yes, quite. In the view of the foolish, they seemed to be dead.

And their going away from us ­­ utter destruction. Yet are

they….are they…I always forget this part…Yet are they full of

…full of immorality.

(Beat)

Immortality.

NIANYA

Who cares what they’re full of? They’re dead!

(She cries, tears her hair, beats her breast, and

falls to the floor. SHE repeats several times. THE

CRONES wail and keep beat on the table, in between

bites.)

58

(FR. FOODHARDY consults his notebook)

FR. FOODHARDY

Emotional catharsis. Important aspect of grief. Let’s see now,

it has been clinically proven that the Grieving Process, or GP,

has several predictable phases. First, there’s Denial.

(FR. FOODHARDY Looks at NIANYA.)

Well, you can’t deny that Nianya’s grieving.

(FR. FOODHARDY ticks “Denial” off in his notebook.)

Next comes Anger.

(FR. FOODHARDY looks at NIANYA again.)

She looks angry, all right.

KYRIL

Nianya always looks angry.

FR. FOODHARDY

Yes. Well. Hmm. After Anger comes True Mourning, even Despair.

(FR. FOODHARDY looks at NIANYA again.)

Hmm, hard to distinguish True Mourning from false mourning, and

of course there’s also false dawn to worry about, as well as

false arrest. And falsetto. And falsies.

59

(FR. FOODHARDY laughs, snaps his notebook shut, and

checks his watch.)

FR. FOODHARDY (CONT’D)

Let’s wrap it up now, ladies.

(THE WOMEN stop short.)

Ahem…

(FR. FOODHARDY chants, in a Gregorian style)

“Peace be on this house. And on all who dwell” – or not –

“within its walls.”

(NIANYA goes into a terrible fit of grief and rage. HE

continues to Gregorian chant, very fast:)

“And peace especially be on the mother of these children the

woman who bore them in her womb and in whom are found only a few

blemishes and by which the privilege of motherhood is now

forever forestalled, forfeited and by which these two fruits of

her womb hanging precariously low on the limb of the tree of

life shall be carried thither in the bushel basket to the

threshing floor of all eternity. A­men.”

(HE wipes his brow, pats his stomach, helps himself to

cakes, then speaks to CRONES:)

Oh, that this too too solid flesh would melt, thaw, and resolve

itself into a dew, eh, ladies?

60

NIANYA

If I could lay down my life in exchange for

theirs…I…I…ummm…well, if I could trade places with them…wait,

what did I just say? Would to God I had died for thee,

Absalom…Hold it!

(SHE slaps herself)

One poppy seed muffin too many. Detox, detox.

KATYA

For those hard­to­beat stubborn fatty desposits, Father, the

inner thighs, the flabby flap under your chin, try the

liposuction clinic in the neighboring village.

FR. FOODHARDY

I’ve barely recovered from Botox treatment. Trying to soften the

hell­and­brimstone image a tad.

(MARFA offers HIM a hot cross bun)

MARFA

Hot cross buns, Father?

(FR. FOODHARDY takes a bun)

FR. FOODHARDY

I hope they’re not too cross!

61

NIANYA

(Wailing.)

If I could eat my own Promethean liver, I would season it with

bacon and onions, serve it on a bed of wild rice and freeze some

of it in Tupperware for later in the month. I’d serve up my

viscera, smoked in a cream sauce over hand­formed baguette. I’d

wrench out my own grief­marinated sweetbreads! Is my hair okay

in this light? I’d slow cook my own tongue on a spit –

(Suddenly, MASHA bolts upright.)

MASHA

If she could have the furs and jewels she wanted – even though,

in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re dead and moldering – she would

be dancing on the table top.

(Suddenly, VERA bolts upright, as well.)

VERA

If she could stuff her greedy face with wedding cakes and lick

the frosting from her bony scrofulous fingers – even as we lie

here stiff with sores in the very jaws of death – then she would

sing for joy

MASHA

And shout hallelujah.

62

VERA

And stomp a tattoo on our casket.

FR. FOODHARDY

Well. Out of the mouths of babes.

VERA & MASHA

Oh, false mother! You are Medea to the teeth!

To sacrifice your children for your own jealous feast!

(NIANYA knocks them back down.)

NIANYA

Enough from you two already. Not everything is about you.

(Beat)

FR. FOODHARDY

What just happened?

KATYA

It’s those two girls, they never could hold their tongues.

FR. FOODHARDY

I thought I saw –

GLINKA

Always an opinion about everything.

63

FR. FOODHARDY

Right before my eyes –

NATASHA

It’s how Nianya raised them. She never spared the rod, and yet

they turned out spoiled.

FR. FOODHARDY

With my own eyes.

(HE wipes his eyes.)

I mean…I was sure there were seven buns left on the plate. But

no!

(HE looks at the plate again.)

Only six!

(HE fills pockets with buns.NIANYA, hysterical with the

knife again, runs out the door. THE CRONES gather the

remaining food and follow. MARFA, KYRIL, and FR. FOODHARDY

kneel beside the bodies, with their heads bowed. GRIFKA

stands on two legs, takes a book from the shelf, adjusts

his reading glasses, and reads:)

GRIFKA

To be, or not to be, that is the question—

Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer

The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,

64

GRIFKA (CONT’D)

Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,

And by opposing, end them? To die, to sleep—

To sleep. Perchance to dream.

(Realizing that HE’s quoting Hamlet, ACT III, SCENE I)

Oops. Pardon me. What play is this?

(HE snaps his fingers)

Wrong speech!

(GRIFKA flips through the pages.)

Aha!

The master’s daughter has silver and gold

Kind­hearted and blessed, as Grifka foretold.

The step­mother’s daughters are frozen with cold.

Too selfish and greedy to ever grow old.

(GRIFKA howls a long, long howl.)

Anybody here got a cough drop?

(KYRIL brings HIM lozenges.)

Ah, much better…Well, I’m afraid I must be going. I’ve an

important engagement in the woods. Under the largest pine tree.

(HE winks, wraps his cloak around him, and vanishes.)

65

FR. FOODHARDY

A talking dog?!

#26: FINALE/FROZEN VOLGA (REPRISE) (Company)

(Enter COMPANY, dancing.)

ALL

SO WE TELL STORIES BY THE FIRE’S DYING LIGHT.

ADD SOME EXTRA DETAILS, NO ONE’S CHECKING IF IT’S RIGHT.

TELL A SKAZKA, SING A SONG.

LIFE CAN’T HELP BUT BE TOO LONG.

IN THE MEANTIME, STICK TOGETHER.

LONGING FOR THE LIGHT.

IN THE MEANTIME, STICK TOGETHER.

NEVER LOSING SIGHT.

IN THE MEANTIME, WHAT’S TO EAT?

BE GOOD, BE KIND; AND DON’T BE TOO GREEDY.

ADIEU. FAREWELL. GOOD NIGHT.

AND PRAY THE WOLVES DON’T BITE.

(THE COMPANY howls)

THE END

66