© Chris Port, 2004
THE SNOW QUEEN ENTERS. HER FACE IS OBSCURED BY A WHITE HOOD. SHE HAS AN AIR OF COOL SENSUALITY. ONE CAN IMAGINE MEN FALLING IN LOVE AND DYING FOR HER.
Good evening, young man.
HE IS UNSURE HOW TO ADDRESS HER.
… young woman…
HE FEELS STUPID.
Your Majesty will suffice.
KAY BOWS AWKWARDLY THEN PEERS UP AT HER FACE UNDER THE HOOD.
You’re a very forward young man. Some people might consider it rude for you to stare at a queen.
I’m sorry, your Majesty. It’s just that you don’t look like the Queen on our stamps. She’s a bit older than you.
That’s because I’m not queen of your land. I am… the Snow Queen. And where I come from, there are no stamps. Mine is an… undiscovered country.
And where is this undiscovered country?
North. In the arctic wastes. Where cold is sharp as reason. Where the Pole Star gleams, a pearl in black water. Where the Northern Lights flicker like ice on fire.
It sounds… beautiful.
It’s a sight to die for. You seem an adventurous young man. Are you in search of wisdom? I have much to teach you. Come. Sit in my sleigh and I’ll take you there.
SHE TAKES HIM BY THE HAND. THEY SIT SIDE BY SIDE IN HER SLEIGH. SHE WHIPS THE HORSES AND OFF THEY GO. KAY LEANS AGAINST HER, TREMBLING OUT OF COLD, PERHAPS FEAR.
Why do you tremble? Here. Creep into my warm fur.
SHE ENFOLDS HIM IN HER COAT.
Are you still cold?
It doesn’t hurt as much now.
SHE KISSES HIM ON THE FOREHEAD, DELICIOUSLY COLD, NUMBING ALL HIS PAIN.
Now… you must have no more kisses… or I should kiss you to death.
KAY STARES AT HER IN ADORATION.
You’re staring again, young man.
I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re so beautiful. So pure and intelligent. You’re… perfect. And you always smile. You make me feel like I haven’t grown up yet. But I want to grow up!
You’re still a little boy. But you’ll grow soon enough. And then… well… We shall see what we shall see. Look, Kay! Look at the night!
KAY LOOKS AROUND HIM.
Listen to the howl of the love-sick wolves;
Yellow teeth smoking ovens at the moon;
Circling a house in the morbid woods;
Eyes decaying orbit, the snow consumes.
Over black forests, under black clouds,
And on a black wind we ride the night.
The dead are in bed and at peace on shrouds,
Wrapped in a season of the purest white.
And now, we have come
to my palace; you shall sleep
in the cold light of reason,
forever at my feet.
KAY CURLS UP ASLEEP. THE SNOW QUEEN LOOKS DOWN AT HIM, SMILES AND CROSSES THE STAGE -