IS" —s CHARACTERS (5 men, 2 women) MINA — a woman in her early twenties HARKER — her fiancé, a solicitor LUCY — Mina's friend SEWARD — Lugy’s suitor, RENFIELD — a madman VAN HELSING — a professor DRACULA — a Count from Transylvania head of a lunatic asylum Additional Actors (2 women, 1 man), who play: WAITERS ATTENDANTS MAID VIXENS TIME and PLACE 1897. London, England. And Transylvania. SETTING The play moves quickly amid numerous environments, the pri mary ones being: Lucy's bedroom, Renfield’s cell, Dracula's castle, and the guest room at the asylum. A few specific pieces, generally called for within the scene, should suffice for each. Above all, nothing should hinder the constant, fluid motion from one scene to the next. Suances. thMUSIC Two things. The ability to get under our skin, almost sublimi- nally, from time to time. And, of course, the ability to bom- bard us with terror, when needed. (The author highly recom- mends Roberta Carlson's original score, composed for the pre- miere production of this play at the Arizona Theatre Company, March 1995. For information on Ms. Carlson's music, please contact her at 214 Oak Grove, Minneapolis, MN 55403. Tele- phone: 612-874-0395.) EFFECTS This play was written to be produced in a variety of theaters — large and small; lavishly equipped or typically impoverished. Blood should be plentiful. A good sound system is necessary. Beyond that, nearly ALL the effects called for in the text can be either simplified or, in some instances, deleted. Some alter- nate suggestions appear in the stage directions throughout. Others are, obviously, left to the discretion of the production. In the end, if the characters — and thus, the audience — take the power and terror of Dracula seriously, the effects (be they large or small) will simply lend credence to this terror. It’s important, in fact, that no effect ever take us “out of the play,” for, ultimately, the motion and clarity of the story is para- mount. Cee iees vithDRACULA ACT ONE Music from the darkness. Lights rise on — A small table, far downstage, in front of the curtain. The table is set, elegantly, for one. In the chair at the table sits a man wearing a black tuxedo. This is Renfield. He places his napkin on his lap. He snaps his fingers. A Waiter enters and fills the wine glass on the table. Red, of course. The Waiter goes. Renfield sips his wine. He looks out at the audience. RENFIELD. We are all of us invented. We are all of us cobbled together from cartilage and dust. Few of us know with certainty the name of our maker. But, I do. (He raises a picture that is face down on the table [or: a slide is projected onto the curtain.] It is a picture of:) Bram Stoker Born eight November, eighteen forty-seven. Dublin. A sickly child who loved his mother. A young man who, like all young men, fell in with a crowd. Yes, that crowd. That theatre crowd. And our young Bram entered the theatrical profession in as low and base a manner as one possibly can. wearnee withaps his fingers — the Waiter enters, ¢, Asa he plain He/she foe, it in front of Renfield, haat a pees it, Then, the Waiter exits.) In 1897, at age fifty, Bram oer published a book that would, in time; become his qa Featve work. In doing se, he made me. And he Bave 10 me Renfield. And, he gave me something more. Somethin, that so many of you wish for, pray for, beg for — and, yet, will never attain. /mmortality. (He smiles a bit. Sips his wine. His expression changes.) I have never forgiven him that. (Renfield lifts the cover of the platter, revealing — A large, brown rat... still alive Music. Sound of manic laughter and screaming. Renfield lifts th, squirming rat by the tail and dangles it above his head, lowering it down into his mouth, as — Three Attendants, in white coats, rush on and grab Renfield. As he is yanked up out of his chair, he is also yanked out of his tuxedo, revealing his grey/green asylum cloth. ing. This happens as — The curtain opens, and — Renfield is hauled away U. into the distance, laughing, screaming, the rat half. way in his mouth, as — music crescendos, then stops abruptly, as lights shift to — Lucy's Room. Sunset. A bed and a large window are prominent. Long, thick black drapes frame the window. Mina sits on the edge of the bed, holding a business notebook. Lucy sits in the middle of the bed, listening to Mina. Sound of a clock ticking.) MINA. And that way, after we are married, I'll be able to eh as aoe stenographer — LUCY. Mm hmm. MINA. I will write down his LUCY. Mm hmm. MINA. Then, later, therefore be of great LUCY. How fascinat hind Mina. Mina does MINA. He is keepin LUCY. "A journal? bed and is we thoughts in shorthand — transcribe them onto a typewriter — and help to him in his work as a solicitor. ting. (Lucy gradually stands on the bed, be Not notice, referring still to her notebook.) a journal of his business trip abroad — ral? Really? (Lucy has pulled a sheet up from the MINA, Yo (oe % 4 “ape. Mina remains unaware.) nea my new taining shorthand. And, when he returns I shall P' Lucy, | 8 to work, . her Ureaeningy (ENO stands behind Mina, looking down at 10 — Ceennee eelthPL MINA. I've been practicing very hard. Shorth difficult art than many people realize. pls oa as ships her “cape” over Mina, and pounces on I TULy. Be aie be mine forever! (Mina screams, then they both egin laughing and giggling as they roll around on the bed. Lucy is tickling Mina.) MINA. Lucy, stop it — LUCY. I won't stop ti shorthand and journals ai MINA. I haven't seen you in mond LUCY. So don’t talk to me of numl about your heart. MINA. My heart is resolute. LUCY. Forget your heart. Tell me of your body. Tell me what thoughts of Jonathan do to your skin and your blood and your bones — MINA. Lucy, you're shai LUCY. Then shame me. You're my one true girlfriend. You alone can talk to me of the things that dare not leave this room. (Lucy touches Mina’s face, tenderly.) Please. (Silence. Mina stares at her.) Very well. You've become a practical young woman, about to marry a man who leaves you cold. MINA. No. Not cold. (Smiles a bit.) Not cold at all. (Lucy ‘er to her.) Sometimes I think of his touch and my moves in clos hands tremble. My lips become wet. I can feel my heart beat- ;thand is a more (Lucy Il you put an end to all this talk of ind business — hs. I thought you'd — pers and letters. Tell me meful — ing in my throat. LUCY. (A devilish, delicious smile.) Oh, Mina ... MINA. He’s only been gone a week, and already I ache for him. (A shaft of light rises on Harker, wearing a coat. On the ground next to him are his valise, and briefcase. His spirit is buoyant. Faint sound of a bell tolling: trees rustling.) When a letter arrives from him, his words make my hopes sing. HARKER. My darling Mina, I write to you from the heart of the Carpathian Mountains. 1 am spending the night in Bistritz, at a fine hotel recommended by my client, the Count. Tomorrow, he'll send a carriage for and we'll begin our work at his castle. I'm told this region, known as Transylvania, is one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe. How 11 Cee iees vithfortunate that my work allows me exotic trips to strange and distant countries. And the food! Tonight, I had an eggplant stuffed with forcemeat which they call “impletata.” (Smiles.) Be- fore you ask, the answer is “Yes” — I did get a copy of the recipe for you. After dinner, a strange old woman — reeking of garlic — took me aside and told me that tomorrow is St. George’s Day, and I should not travel to visit the Count. She began wailing that at midnight the dead spirits will rise and evil will hold sway over the world. Such amusing pagans these people are! She went so far as to press her rosary into my hands — (He holds up the rosary, with a large crucifix attached.) — which I've kept as a souvenir of the delightful earnestness of these simple, misguided souls. Oh, my sweet Mina, how my heart rejoices at the thought of you. I'll be home safely and soon. Your loving husband-to-be ... Jonathan. (Lights out on Harker, as — Lucy overlaps his last word, throwing herself at Mina, playfully —) LUCY. Jonathan! (They wrestle about on the bed, laughing. Lucy cups her hand over Mina’s mouth and kisses the back of it, pretending to be Harker.) Oh, sweet Mina, not only my heart rejoices — MINA. (Laughing.) Lucy, you're mad — LUCY. Oh, but oh so much more of me! You fill me up with solicitous longings! MINA. (Playing along.) Not till we're married, I've told you! (Mina pushes Lucy from the bed. Lucy rushes to the window and play fully “clothes” herself in the long black drapes.) LUCY. Married in the eyes of whom? MINA. In the eyes of the moon —! , LUCY. — Which is rich and full of permission, now what say? ate a quick pause, a naughty look.) Come and let me have ou! ee a (Lucy rushes to her. They throw the sheet over them and wrestle on the bed, as — a Maid enters.) . Miss Lucy. bucy. (Still under the sheet.) Go Se eee ee MAID. Miss Lucy, that gentemar aes does the under the sheet stops. Lucy pokes her head up. 12 Cee elthsame, turns to Lucy.) MINA. What gentleman? MAID. Mister Seward, the doctor. MINA. A doctor! Lucy...! MAID. What should I tell him? LUCY. Tell him to come back tomorrow. I am indisposed. MAID. Very well. MINA. (To Lucy.) Why didn’t you tell me?! LUCY. And do open the window on your way out. How many times must I ask you? (The Maid nods, apologetically, then opens the window — faint sound of crashing waves, as the Maid leaves. Mina looks at Lucy, who gazes out the window.) MINA. No secrets, Lucy. That's what we've always said to one another, since we were children. There must be a bond of trust between us. (Lucy turns to her.) Tell me. LUCY. Oh, Mina, can’t you guess? I am in love! (I needn’t tell you this secret must not leave this room.) I am in love, Mina! Oh, how bountiful is the world and how true are the proverbs. MINA. The proverbs? LUCY. It never rains but it pours. Mina, I am not indisposed ... Lam undecided. MINA. Whether to marry him or not? LUCY. No. Which one of them to marry. MINA. There is more than one? LUCY. Three! Three suitors. Me, who all these years never had even one! Two of them have already proposed — MINA. Who? (Lucy shows Mina small, framed photos of each of the men.) LUCY. Mr. Holmwood, the judge; and Mr. Morris, the Texan. MINA. Does he have horses? LUCY. Horses are the least of what he has. MINA. Lucy —! LUCY. And now, Dr. Seward — only twenty-nine and already in control of an immense lunatic asylum. He is versed in the arts of dream interpretation and hypnosis! Oh, I can fancy what a wonderful power he must have over his patients. MINA. Lucy, what will you do? 18 vyuarnrneea withLUCY. Why can't they let a girl marry three men and save all this trouble? Yes, I know, that is heresy and I must not say it — but, dear Mina, all this happiness has made me so ut- terly miserable ... (She breaks down and cries, as Mina holds and comforts her.) MINA. Oh, sweet Lucy. Hold tight and have hope. My love is away, your loves are too near. We shall mingle our tears to- gether. (A shaft of light on Harker. His coat is off, his sleeves are rolled up. He holds some papers. He sips from a silver goblet. Faint sound of wolves howling, trees rustling.) HARKER. My dear Mina, what a place I am in! Mr. Dawkins never let on what a grand job he had assigned to me. I must thank him on my return. The carriage came as scheduled, the coachman loaded my things in silence and took off into the night. The cold air was pierced by the thrilling call of wolves — seemingly hundreds of them. And, in fact, when I lit a match to look at my watch, the reflection on the carriage window gave the illusion of hundreds of pairs of red eyes, staring from the hillsides around me. It gave me a wonderful fright! When we reached the castle, I tried but failed to see the coachman’s face. He lifted all my belongings with a single hand and when I mentioned the swiftness of his horses, his only reply was: “The dead travel fast.” For his part, the Count was ever so cor- dial, and, seeing my fatigue, led me directly to this room. It is well-appointed, and not unlike a home in England except for the complete absence of mirrors. We could learn, I'm sure, from this noble absence of vanity. (Lucy’s Sitting Room. Noon. Lucy is checking her face in a small hand mirror, as — Seward en- ters and appears behind him. Lucy sees him first in the mirror.) LUCY. Hello, Dr. Seward. SEWARD. Do call me John, won't you? (Lucy nods, and turns to him, setting the mirror down. Seward approaches her.) I'm sorry I disturbed you yesterday. It was impulsive of me. LUCY. Not at all. I was — SEWARD. Indisposed. The maid told me. LUCY. Sickly, actually. SEWARD. In what way? A fever? LUCY. Yes, a fever. 14 wun worthSEWARD. And now? Are you feeling better now? LUCY. I don’t know. Am I? (She stands. He stares at her, then steps in. He gently feels her forehead. She closes her eyes at his touch. His hands gracefully and gently move to her neck, continuing to check her. Then, he steps back. Her eyes remain closed.) Well? SEWARD. There is but one thing out of the ordinary. LUCY. And what is that? SEWARD. Your incomparable beauty. (She opens her eyes. She stares at him, speechless.) You are not ill, Lucy. It is I who carry an illness. It eats away at me day and night, and its only rem- edy resides in the very heart which afflicts me. Your heart. (Pause.) May 1 speak? (Thrilled, stunned, she nods ... then sits.) My dear Lucy, let me say it out loud: I work with lunatics. An amusing statement, yes, a cavalier admission in the eyes of the world — but the world does not see what I see. Each day, in ways too intricate to mention, I glimpse the mad souls of men. And from this I have learned the following: we have, all of us, a secret life. And though we are loathe to divulge it, we do, on occasion, grant access. We do, in rare and remarkable ways, allow one person proximity to our hidden self. What I know of you, Lucy, is terribly dear to me. What I will never know of you, is dearer still. (He kneels.) So, please. Accept me, and be cherished above all women. Bid me stay, and be, to your final days, adored. (She begins to cry, softly. He watches for @ moment, then leaps to his feet.) Oh, that I be struck dumb! That I be swept away to sea and pummeled into driftwood! My sweet, kind-hearted Lucy: I am a brute! I am carrion for vul- tures and worms! I have wrought tears in the very eyes where I least intended them. (She looks up at him.) You cannot love me at present. That is the clear and stinging prognosis and 1 must accept it. But, tell me: dare I hope? Could you lam to love me, in time? (She cries again, very softly.) There is some- one already. Your heart, making way for your hand, is previ- ously betrothed. Am I right, dear Lucy? (She looks up at him. She is, perhaps, about to answer, as — Seward nods.) | feared that. Two forever gain at the loss of a third. (He goes to her, offers his hand, lifts her to her feet. Looks in her eyes. Speaks with resolute darity.) Hear me now: from this moment on, your happiness 15 weenie ithis my fondest wish. If your heart was free, a man might have hope. But, in place of hope, I give you something far stron- ger and eminently wiser: I give you my friendship. And, what- ever you need of it shall be yours for the asking. (Pause) And from you, if I might have a remembrance. Something like your mirror, which has held your image as vividly as I. (She lifts the small mirror and hands it to him. She looks in his eyes. She leans forward and hisses him, very gently, on the lips. He closes his eyes. She looks at him. He opens his eyes, speaks softly.) That kiss, sweet Lucy, that will be something to keep off the darkness. (He steps back, looks at her ... then leaves, taking the mirror with him. Lucy cries and rushes to the window, looking out, as — Lights isolate Seward, alone, opposite. He takes off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves, Speaking with precision and calm.) That is done, then. We have been rebuffed. The world is empty. There is nothing worth doing. Fortunately, there is one way in which a lost love can be revenged: at the hand of one’s work. (He screams with a manic intensity.) RENFIELD! (He rushes across the stage and arrives at — Renfield’s cell. The asylum. Renfield is busily making notations in a crude notebook, as he quickly counts the numerous tiny [unseen] life forms in his cell. He is always chained at the ankle unless other- wise noted. A sparrow flies around inside a crude birdcage. Two At- tendants are nearby. One reads a newspaper. One is asleep.) RENFIELD. (To himself.) Yes good yes yes good yes very good yes good good yes very good yes yes ... (As Renfield continues, Seward rushes up to the Attendants, who straighten up, immediately.) SEWARD. How is he? ATTENDANT ONE. Quite well, sir. ATTENDANT TWO. On his best behavior. ATTENDANT ONE. Not a thing out of the ordinary. (/n- censed, Seward throws them out of his way.) SEWARD. I told you to keep him to his madness! How can I study him if you allow him to revert to his sanity?! (Before they can answer —) GET OUT OF MY SIGHT. (The Attendants leave, as — Seward approaches Renfield, who does not look up.) RENFIELD. You've been crying. SEWARD. What? RENFIELD. Mind your step. There is life there. 16 eee annSEWARD. The spiders have nearly doubled. RENFIELD, I lure them, I house them, the world feeds on the carcass of itself, may I smell you? Please please. (Seward steps back.) Salt, I think. Salt and perfume. You, too, have been in the presence of life. (Renfield instantly smashes his open palm against Seward’s chest.) SEWARD. For god’s sake — (Renfield pulls his palm away and peels a large, dead fly from Seward’s shirt. Holds it up.) RENFIELD. And life tastes good, doesn’t it Johnny? (Renfield eats the fly. Seward watches, though it disgusts him.) SEWARD. You've trained the sparrow, I see. RENFIELD. Yes, a good bird, that. Why won't she marry you? SEWARD. What are you talking about? RENFIELD. I should brood if I were you. I should brood and think of sporadic killings. (Quickly back to his notebook.) Yes yes good yes good yes very good yes yes yes ... (Seward watches him for a moment, then steps toward him.) SEWARD. But, why, Renfield? Why the eating of flies and 7 spiders? RENFIELD. I have a great love for animals. SEWARD. No evasions today, I’m not of a mood. Now, again — RENFIELD. They are life. And they give life to me. I ab- sorb it through them, blood running into blood. SEWARD. (Reaching out his hand.) And the notebook? RENFIELD. (Holding the notebook tightly to his chest.) NO. SEWARD. You must have a plan of some kind. RENFIELD. NO. SEWARD. First the flies, then the spiders, then the sparrow, you have a PLAN — RENFIELD. NO. SEWARD. I shall solve you, Renfield. You are a life-eating maniac and I shall solve the secret of your mind! I am not afraid of the world’s rampant complacency. To question is to discover. Men sneered at vivisection, and yet look at its results today! Why not, therefore, advance science in its most diffi- cult and vital aspect — the BRAIN? For if I held the key to JUST ONE LUNATIC, I might advance my own branch of sci- 17 omnes collinence to such lofty esteem that Burdon-Sanderson’s physiology would be as NOTHING — RENFIELD. And Miss Lucy would give her hand. SEWARD. SHUT UP! RENFIELD. (Sweetly.) May I have a kitten? SEWARD. What?! RENFIELD. A kitten, please please. A nice litle playful kit- ten, that I can ... play with, and ... teach, and ... feed and feed and feed. No one would refuse me a kitten, would they? SEWARD. How is it you know her name? (Renfield quickly turns away, grabs the bird cage and begins singing a tiny little song to the sparrow.) RENFIELD. Bird-blood feather-blood spider-blood fly-blood, Bird-blood feather-blood spider-blood fly-blood ... SEWARD. Tell me! (Seward grabs Renfield by the shoulder and turns him. This is the first time we have seen him touch Renfield. Renfield wheels around, viciously, fire in his eyes, his jaw clenched, ready to fight, as — Seward takes a step back.) Miss Lucy. How do you know her name? RENFIELD. My Master. SEWARD. What? RENFIELD. My Master told me. (Crash of thunder and rush of music as lights shift to — A silhouette of Dracula, far U., his arms extended, his cape opened, batlike. From the silhouette, a pair of red ees [perhaps] glowing in the darkness, We do not see his face A great burst of smoke — another crash of thunder/music, and — in ‘an instant, the silhouette is gone. In its place is — Harker, in a shaft of light, looking terrified and haggard, his clothes rumpled. He wears the rosary around his neck. He speaks with urgency from the billowing smoke and forbidding darkness. Sound of bats shrieking, doors slamming shut.) HARKER. Sweet Mina! I am all in a sea of wonders. I think strange things which I dare not confess to mine own soul! There is something of a nightmare about this place and I fear my superstitions may run riot within me. And the Count, my host: what manner of man is this?! I feel the dread of his pres ence overwhelming me. I am encompassed about with terrors 18 wun — hthat I dare not think of ... (The storm breaks wide open, filling the theatre with sound and fury, as lights shift to — Lucy's bedroom. Night. A full moon out the window. Lightning illuminating the dark room at random intervals, Lucy and Mina asleep in the bed, as the storm rages. A wolf howls, in the distance. Suddenly, Lucy stirs. She sits up. She rises from the bed, sleepwalking, and moves toward the window. She throws wide the drapes. She touches the window very lightly with her fingers, as though caressing it. Then ... she presses her entire body flush against the window. She writhes with pleasure, as though in the grasp of the window itself. A wicked crack of thun- der — Mina wakes. Sees the empty bed. Sees Lucy by the window.) MINA. Lucy, come to bed. (No reaction.) Lucy, it’s just a dream. You're sleepwalking again. Come back to bed. (Still no reaction. Mina, stands, putting on a robe. She lifts Lucy's robe from the bed and carries it toward Lucy.) The storm has frightened you. You're having another dream. Come morning, it will all be gone. (Mina walks to Lucy and gently pulls her a few steps away from the window. Lucy continues to look out. Mina places the robe around her shoulders, as — the howl of a wolf joins the sound of the storm. Lucy suddenly throws off the robe and rushes back to the window again.) Lucy, what is it? What's there? (Lucy jumps onto the window sill, as Mina tries to pull her back to bed.) LUCY. The waves are wild! The ship is tossed about! MINA. Lucy, you're scaring me. Come down from there — LUCY. But fear not, the ship will find its port. The ship will best the storm! MINA. There are no ships, Lucy. None would be out on a night like this — LUCY. There it is! Riding the waves! Pounding about on the blood of the earth! (Lights shift quickly to — Renfield’s cell. Renfield, shirtless, is alternately leaping about in a fervor — and quickly cleaning himself in the exact manner of a cat. Seward rushes on, furious, and encounters a frantic Attendant. The Attendant holds @ straitjacket. The storm continues. Mina and Lucy remain lit, in tableau.) RENFIELD. IT IS HE! HE HAS COME FOR ME! THE MASTER HAS COME! SEWARD. What on earth is he — 19 eee ithATTENDANT. The storm, I think, it set him off somehow — SEWARD. Renfield! What is it? RENFIELD. MY MASTER GROWS NEAR! SEWARD. Who are you talking about? RENFIELD. (With an odd, lucid calm.) The bride-maidens re- joice the coming of the bride; but when the bride draweth nigh, the maidens shine not. ATTENDANT. _ I think he’s had a reckoning. I think he's found God! SEWARD. I pray not. Homicidal mania and religious fervor would be a dangerous combination. (Moving in closer, seeing Renfield cleaning himself.) Renfield, what are you doing? RENFIELD. I must be clean for my Master. SEWARD. Your flies are gone. And the spiders are gone, also. (No reaction.) Look at me. Where have they gone? And what of your sparrow? Where is it? (Renfield reaches into his mouth and coughs, producing — A sparrow feather, which flutters to the ground.) My god. (He turns to the Attendant.) BIND HIM! NOW! (Flash of lightning/huge thunder crack, as a shaft of light reveals — Harker. His clothes look like rags — torn and filthy. He speaks wildly, sodden with dementia and fear. Sound of a high-pitched ringing joins the sound of the storm.) HARKER. The digging! All day and night the digging, the constant digging! Oh, my far-away, Mina — if only I knew what it all meant! Great wooden boxes have been hauled away — and for what reason? I fear I am the only living soul within this place, and everywhere I tum: doors, doors, doors every where — all locked and bolted! I am a prisoner! (A blinding flash of lightning/severe crack of thunder which suddenly reveals all three areas at once: Harker — still struggling to speak, as we Set something slithering around near his legs. It is, in fact, the Two Vix ens — two women with deathly pale skin, wild hair, dad in white, flowing, diaphanous rags. We do not however, see their faces. Dur ing the following, they climb, vinelike, up Harker’s legs — wrappiné their limbs about him. Lucy and Mina — Lucy throws the window open and leans out into the storm, as Mina tries to hold onto her, to save her. Seward and Renfield — as the Attendant tries to bind Renfield, Renfield uses the straitjacket to snap the man's neck, kill 20 Cece enting him instantly. Seward looks on, helpless, horrified — Through- Out, a manic cacophony of sound: the storm, the wolves, the bats, the high-pitched screeching.) HARKER. MINA. SEWARD. And now I know, Lucy, no! Renfield, let him Mina! Now I go! know what the LUCY. digging was for! I want to see the RENFIELD. And now I know ship! He should have what I must do: I been nice to me! must rid the MINA. Now, he’s my world of such No — take my pet. I'll call him monsters! They hand — it’s not Tabby. are the devils of safe! the Pit! I shall es- SEWARD. cape, Mina — LUCY. You'll be punished, away from this Look, he’s come _I promise you! cursed land! And for me! if I fail, goodbye, RENFIELD. sweet Mina! MINA. My Master will pro- Goodbye my one Lucy, stop it — tect me! Listen to true love! Re- you're dream- the wind — listen member me and. ing! to it howl! HE IS keep me in your NEAR, say the prayers! LUCY. waves! THE MAS- I'M HERE! I'M TER! THE MAS- GOODBYE! HERE! TER IS AT HAND! (As the music and storm crescendo — Harker has been overcome by the slithering Vixens. Lucy has hurled Mina back onto the bed. Lucy leans out the window, silhouetted against the enormous full moon. Seward rushes away from Renfield, who pets the dead Attendant. Then, suddenly, all light vanishes but a small shaft, D. Music and storm snap out. All is silent. There, in the dim light is ... a large wooden box, coffin-sized. We stare at the box in silence for a long while. Then ... it shakes @ bit, just the tiniest bit. Just a hint of Something within. A pause. A bit more shaking. Then, the shaking 21 ee thstops. Another silence. Then ... slowly ... creakily ... the lid to the box begins to open. As it does, lights snap out. Music from the dark- ness, then lights up, revealing — a ship's wheel, weathered, stand- ing alone, attached only to a few battered planks of the ship. And, tied by its hands to the wheel with a string of rosary beads ... a full human skeleton. Hideous, and still wet; mud and seaweed amid the bones. A man, his back to us, stands looking at the skeleton, shak- ing his head with sadness. [This is Dracula — dressed exactly _as Harker.] We do not clearly see Dracula's face. Seward, wearing a warm coat, enters. It is nearly dawn.) SEWARD. | It’s just as they said. DRACULA. Yes. SEWARD. What could have — (Stops.) No. It’s too horrible to think of. Did any of the crew survive? DRACULA. Only a dog, they say. SEWARD. A dog? DRACULA. A large grey dog which leapt from the ship. Or, so they say. SEWARD. A wonder it even made it to port in a storm like that. DRACULA. A miracle. SEWARD. Pardon my manners, I don’t believe I know you. I'm John Seward. DRACULA. (Pause, he turns to Seward.) You head the asylum, do you not? SEWARD. Yes, I do. And you are? DRACULA. Harker. Jonathan Harker. (They shake hands. Seward takes note of the coldness of Dracula's hand.) SEWARD. Well, Mr. Harker. A true pleasure. I've heard of you from Miss Lucy Westenra. You're engaged, I believe, to her friend Mina. DRACULA. Yes. And you to Miss Lucy? (Pause, Seward stares at him.) I'm told she’s very beautiful. (Silence.) SEWARD. How odd to meet you here. DRACULA. (With an odd chill.) Where would you have us meet? SEWARD. (A pause.) Well. Yes. You're right. Good to, though, finally. (Dracula gently touches the cheek of the skeleton.) 22 Seer eel |DRACULA. He was a righteous man. Is this, you suppose, what happens to righteous men? SEWARD. And this fact the strangest: he lashed himself to the wheel with his own rosary. DRACULA. (As he takes a small step backward.) Yes. SEWARD. We'll never know, will we? DRACULA. That depends, I suppose. SEWARD. How do you mean? DRACULA. On what you're hoping to know. (Tips his hat.) Good day. (Dracula goes, as, behind him, the sun begins to rise. Seward watches him leave, as lights shift to — Lucy’s bedroom. Morn- ing. Lucy lies in the bed, a cloth across her forehead, her face very pale. Mina sits on the bed next to her, holding her hand.) LUCY. And then? MINA. I've told you enough. LUCY. No, Mina. I must know. MINA. Then ... I found you on the cliff, lying amid the rocks. It’s a wonder you didn’t fall. I wrapped you in a blan- ket and brought you home. LUCY. Mina — MINA. You're fine, now. And safe. I’ve sent for Dr. Seward. LUCY. Mina, listen to me. You must, as my dearest friend, Promise me this: that you'll tell no one of these odd events. Even my family. Promise me. MINA. (After a pause, touching Lucy’s face.) 1 promise. (Lucy smiles a bit, holds Mina’s hand.) LUCY. And what of you? What is the news from Jonathan? MINA. There is no news. A fortnight and still no word from him. (The Maid escorts Seward into the room. He carries a leather doctor's bag.) MAID. Dr. Seward, ma'am. SEWARD. Good morning, ladies. You must be Mina. (Mina rises and moves to him, away from Lucy.) MINA. Thank you for coming. Lucy commends your skill as a doctor. SEWARD. More minds have I treated than bodies, but I’ll do what I can. How is she? MINA. Weak. And very pale. Please — (Mina gestures to the 23 Cece efithbed. Seward moves close to Lucy.) SEWARD. Hello, Lucy. LUCY. Hello, again. (He checks her pulse, eyes, heart, etc. dur- ing the following.) SEWARD. When did this begin? LUCY. The storm last night. I slept poorly. SEWARD. Bad dreams? LUCY. (The truth.) Yes. SEWARD. Can you tell me? LUCY. It's very vague. MINA. Try, Lucy. LUCY. There was a ... howling. A dog howling — SEWARD. (Simply.) A dog — LUCY. Or many of them, hundreds or more, as though the whole town were full of them. And I seemed to be sinking into deep water, green water, and there was a singing in my ears. And then — (She stops.) SEWARD. Go on. LUCY. And then ... something very sweet and very bitter all around me at once ... and I felt everything passing away from me ... my soul seemed to go out of my body and float about in the air. And then — (At this moment, Seward has turned her head and is looking at something on her neck — which we cannot see. A brief, still moment, as — a church bell tolls, beautifully, in the distance. Lucy turns her head and looks up at Seward. Seward removes his hand from her neck. Then, Lucy looks to Mina.) And then Mina woke me. And told me I'd been dreaming. (Seward looks at Lucy for a long time.) MINA. Dr. Seward, what is it? SEWARD. (To Lucy.) There is a mark on your neck. LUCY. A mark? SEWARD. A red mark. As though you'd been kissed there. (Pause, now the hint of jealousy.) Have you been? LUCY. (Touching his face, tenderly.) No, John. SEWARD. (Pause, then standing.) I'll begin with your blood. LUCY. My blood? SEWARD. I'll assess its qualities. To discover any malady that may reside within. (Seward takes a small, pointed tool, and a small 24 Vv tehglass container from his bag. A small jar of ointment, as well. Lucy looks to Mina, who sits on the bed to comfort her.) MINA. Do as he says, now. Don’t be frightened. SEWARD. Miss Lucy ... LUCY. Yes? SEWARD. May I have your hand? (Silence. Lucy smiles a bit, then offers her hand to him. He takes her hand. He rubs a small bit of ointment on her finger. He pricks her finger, quickly, with the tool. Lucy looks down at the blood. He squeezes her finger, gently, until a few drops of blood fall into the glass container.) There we are. If you'll wrap that, Mina. (Mina wraps a small white cloth around Lugy’s finger, as Seward seals up the dish.) LUCY. John. SEWARD. Yes? LUCY. You are my true friend. (Seward nods, saying nothing, as — the Maid enters.) MAID. Miss Mina, a letter has arrived for you. Shall I bring it in? MINA. From where is it posted? MAID. From a hospital, ma’am. In Budapest. (Mina stands, urgently.) MINA. I'll be right there. LUCY. Mina, I pray the news is — MINA. Ssshh. Save your strength. I'll see you when you wake. (Seward and Mina walk away from the bed.) 1 thank you, Dr. Seward. SEWARD. Keep a watchful eye. And don’t let her leave this room, MINA. I won't. SEWARD. Miss Mina, if I may — (Mina stops, looks at him.) — you are as remarkable as Lucy described. MINA. As are you, Dr. Seward. SEWARD. Early today, I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Harker, your fiancé. He seems a fine man. (She stares at him:) What is it? MINA. That's impossible. He's out of the country. SEWARD. Well, perhaps I — MINA. (Sharply.) Till just now, I've had no word in weeks. 25 weunnee WithWhy would you say such a thing? SEWARD. Miss Mina — (She is gone. He looks off after her, then looks back at Lucy.) LUCY. I'm so warm, John. Won't you open the window? (Seward moves to the window, as lights shift to — an entryway, Evening. A Maid turns in her work, and is startled to see the man (Dracula, as Harker] we saw earlier. He wears a cape now. His back is to her, and to us. An odd, distant sound — something like the high pitched ringing of glassware.) MAID. Oh! (A good laugh now.) I’m sorry, sir. May I help yu? DRACULA. | Say it. MAID. I beg your — DRACULA. (Not turning around.) This is the home of Miss Lugy, is it not? MAID. Aye, it is, but — DRACULA. (Quietly.) Say it. (Silence. The Maid stares at him, curious.) You're very beautiful. (Silence. The Maid stares at him, ‘more serious now ...) You know that. Don’t you? (The Maid stares at him, flattered, growing shy ...) Please. Do what I'm thinking. (The Maid stares at him, becoming frightened now ...) Say it. (She takes a deep breath, unable to take her eyes off Dracula. He nods, prompting her.) MAID. You. May. Enter. (The man turns, with a flourish — and we see Dracula for the first time. Youthful and vibrant, and charismatic. He smiles a beautiful smile.) DRACULA. Remember me, won't you? MAID. (Breathlessly.) Oh, yes. DRACULA. Good. (She gestures “come in” .... He smiles. He does ‘not enter. Instead, he turns, flashing his cape, and leaves the w0) he came in. Lights shift to — a sanitarium. A simple white chair will suffice. Harker sits, wearing a white robe, his head ban He does nothing but stare forward in a horrific daze. Mina rashes in. She carries a small bag. She begins to hug him, but stops, by the sight of him.) MINA. Jonathan? (No response, silence.) | took a boat to Ham- burg as soon as I heard. And then the train here. (Still n¢ i sponse, still more silence.) They say you've had a terrible shock 26 Vvunis it hthat you're suffering from a violent brain fever. (Still nothing. Mina kneels, takes his hand, begins to cry softly.) Oh, Jonathan, your eyes. All resolution, all light has gone from them. Please tell me. What has happened? (Her head is in his lap as she cries. He slowly lifts his hand and places it gently on her head. Feeling this, she looks up, taking his hand, kissing it.) They say in a few days you'll be well enough to travel. They've given me your things, but I couldn’t find your briefcase among them. Only this — (She removes a leather-bound journal from her bag. He turns and looks at the journal. She begins to open the journal.) — And I'm not sure whether this is — (He puts his hand down on top of hers with force, shutting the journal. She looks up at him, con- fused, frightened.) — Jonathan? HARKER. (An urgent, somber voice.) Mina. We have spoken of trust between a husband and a wife. That there should be no secrets, no concealment between us. I have been driven mad. But amid this torture, one gift: the loss of memory. I've no idea what happened to bring me here. I've no idea which things were real and which were the insidious dreams of a madman. The secret is here, in my journal. Take it. Keep it. Read it, if you must — but never let me know. 1 do not want to return to those bitter hours, those ghastly days. So, unless sol- emn duty bids you do otherwise, keep this to your heart only. And may this secret prove the final one between us, so long as we two shall be as one. (She stares at him. She removes a blue ribbon from around her neck. She ties the ribbon around the journal, binding it closed.) MINA. — (Very softly.) It’s done. Let's go home. (He takes the rosary from around his neck and holds it out to her. She stares at it, curious, as it dangles from his fingers. Music, as lights shift to — Lucy's bedroom. Night. The moon, of course, is full and high, . flooding the room with light. The drapes are parted. The window is partly open. Lucy is asleep. A clock is chiming midnight. And now ++. the piercing howl of a wolf, nearby. Lucy stirs. Another howl, Lucy sits up. She puts a robe on over her nightgown. She is sleepwalking again. She leaves the bed and walks — with her arms at her sides — to the window. As she approaches the window, the huge head of @ grey wolf rises up into sight, outside the window [or: a silhouette 27 tre ithor projection of a wolf is seen, upstage.] It howls again. Lucy, head still down, does not seem to see the wolf. She throws the window wide open. The sound of waves crashing is heard. Lucy takes off her robe and casts it out the window, into the sea. As she does this, the wolf's eyes [perhaps] begin to glow red. Then, still casually, still sleepwatk- ing ... Lucy closes the window. As she does this, the wolf's head slowly disappears. The red eyes vanish. Lucy takes hold of one side of the black drapes — and pulls it closed. She then takes hold of the other side of the black drapes and pulls it — but it is, in fact — Dracula's cape. She is now engulfed in his arms.) DRACULA. Good evening. (Lucy screams, coming instantly awake.) Don't be frightened. LUCY. MOTHER! DRACULA. Your mother is indisposed. As are the servants. LUCY. Mina, HELP ME! DRACULA. And Miss Mina, too, is gone. We're alone, sweet Lucy. (He releases her. She backs away from him, slowly, covering a spot on her neck with her hands.) Your friend, Dr. Seward, has examined your blood and found it to be rich and healthy. (He licks his lips.) I share his diagnosis. (Music, as — Lucy rushes to the window and throws it open. Instantly, Dracula points to the win- dow — and it slams shut, of its own accord. Lucy pounds against the window, crying. Then, exhausted, she turns back to him, tervi- fied.) LUCY. What are you? What do you want of me? (He ap- proaches her slowly, calmly.) DRACULA. I want your fear. For your fear, like a current, rushes through your body. Your fear makes your heart pound, it renders your veins rich and full. Your fear hemorrhages de- liciously within you. (He is leaning over her. He speaks softly, and very kindly.) Do what I'm thinking. (Her eyes transfixed on his, she slowly pulls back her long red hair ... exposing her neck. Offer- ing it to him. He lowers his mouth to her neck very slowly, like a quiet kiss. He bites her, very genth, once ... making her body tense and shiver. He lifts his head and looks in her eyes. She looks up at him. In the distance, we begin to see hundreds of pairs of red eyes, glowing in the darkness.) It's only a dream, Lucy. You've been sleepwalking again. And dear Mina shall keep your secret. 28 vv ithWhen you wake, you shall remember only the cry of a wolf, and the crash of the sea. (He looks down at her neck, achingly, Then ... in one ravenous motion ... he hi is_hea onto her neck — lights instantly snap out, as — Lucy screams, and, si- multaneously, we hear Renfield scream from the darkness — as lights rise on — Renfield’s cell. He is now chained at the wrist [as well as the ankle] to the walls/bars of his cell. He screams, wildly, struggling to get free.) RENFIELD. I AM HERE, MASTER! I AM HERE TO DO YOUR BIDDING! NOW THAT YOU ARE NEAR, I AWAIT YOUR COMMANDS! (Seward rushes in.) SEWARD. Renfield, what is it?! RENFIELD. (Paying Seward no mind.) AND I PRAY YOU: DO NOT PASS ME BY, DEAR MASTER — SEWARD. (Overlapping slightly.) Who are you talking to —?! RENFIELD. WHEN YOU DISTRIBUTE YOUR GLORIOUS TIDINGS, PLEASE, DO NOT PASS ME BY! (In an instant, Renfield turns to Seward, cheerfully, as though nothing whatsoever had happened.) You're out late. SEWARD. What, yes, listen to me now — RENFIELD. And though she’s promised to another, you keep watch. You maintain an avid readiness. SEWARD. I am not — RENFIELD. But, we can wait, can’t we Johnny? Clever men that we are. We can wait for the riches to fill our cup. (An instant rage, looking up.) DO NOT FORGET ME! (An instant, lucid calm, back to Seward.) We are one man, Johnny. We host a common longing. You await her deep mysteries, as I await my Master's gifts. SEWARD. (Going into the cell.) 1 will SOLVE YOU, Renfield. I shall unearth the mad logic of your mind. Now, I demand to know: WHO IS YOUR MASTER? RENFIELD. We are men at the mercy of angels. (An Atten- dant rushes in.) ATTENDANT. Dr. Seward — SEWARD. Not now — ATTENDANT. It’s Miss Lucy, sir. She's — (And before the At- tendant can finish, Seward is out of the room. The Attendant turns 29 a Ceunce withand looks at Renfield, who smiles and says [or: he mouths the words as we hear Dracula’s amplified voice say].) RENFIELD. The unexpected always happens. (Lights shift in. stantly to a small area D., where — Van Helsing stands, his ba, ch to us, reading from a letter. Next to him is a small valise. He turns to the audience as he reads aloud.) VAN HELSING. “You are my friend and master, and you know more about obscure diseases than anyone in the world, You are a philosopher and metaphysician and the most ad- vanced scientist of your day. You have an absolutely open mind, an iron nerve, a temper of ice, an indomitable resolu- tion, and the kindliest and truest heart that beats. These things provide the equipment for the noble work which you are do- ing for the good of mankind. I entreat you now, with an all- embracing humility, to come to the aid of my dear, sweet Lucy.” (Stops reading, looks up at the audience.) To be clear: I am not a slave to flattery. A man's reputation is the most im- perfect science of all. (Smiles a bit.) 1, for one, would love to meet the man whom young Dr. Seward describes. (Looks at the letter.) No, what swayed me was the blunt accuracy of his post- script. (Reads.) “P.S. Do remember that I once saved your life.” (Lights expand, revealing — Lucy's bedroom. Day. Lucy lies in bed, extremely pale, very weak. She is half-awake, her breathing is labored. ‘Around her neck is a scarf. Seward sits by her side, holding her limp hand. Van Helsing walks into the room, heading directly for Lucy.) SEWARD. It’s as though she is fading away. Every day more pale, gasping for air. VAN HELSING. Miss Lucy, can you hear me? (Lucy opens her oes.) 1am Abraham Van Helsing. I have come from Amsitt dam at Dr. Seward’s request. I must ask you a question or two. Would that be all right? (Lucy nods.) Good. Now, have you had a fall, lately? Or a fright of some kind, anything out of the ordinary? LUCY. Only the dreams. VAN HELSING. Tell me. fall LUCY. Oh, I tried not to sleep. I tried so hard not (0 asleep — SEWARD. Why, Lucy? 30 Cece eetLUCY. (Sitting up in the bed.) And, yet, I must have slept — because the clock struck twelve and woke me. There was a scratching, a flapping of something at the window. What could that have been? SEWARD. The wind, I suspect. A rustle of trees — VAN HELSING. And the dreams? What do you remember of them? LUCY. A wolf. The cry of a wolf. And the sound of the sea. VAN HELSING. Anything else? LUCY. (The truth.) Only that. (Silence.) VAN HELSING. Here. Lie back. Rest now. (As Van Helsing helps her lie back into bed, her scarf comes loosely away from her neck, and — Van Helsing notices something on her neck. He turns to Seward.) Who has access to this room? SEWARD. (Thinking the question odd.) Only myself, her mother, and the maid. VAN HELSING. I'll want to speak to them. Don’t ask, just yet — but trust me, there may be cause. There is always cause for everything. (He takes a small bottle of liquid from his valise, pours a bit of it into a glass, then stirs a small amount of powder into it. He turns to Lucy.) Miss Lucy, I'd like you to drink this. It’s a bit of brandy and a sleeping aid — it will help you rest. LUCY. I don't want to sleep. I'd rather die than ever sleep again. This weakness comes to me in my dreams, and I am unclean, I feel as if there is no air, no air at all, as if there was — VAN HELSING. Ssshh. Quiet. LUCY. You must wake me from my dreams! VAN HELSING. Quiet, now. We shall keep you safe. Now, drink this and rest. (Lucy looks at him, then drinks from the glass and lies back in the bed.) SEWARD. I'll be here, Lucy. I shan’t leave you. (She closes her eyes, as — Van Helsing ushers Seward away from the bed, ur- gently.) What is it? VAN HELSING. She wants blood, my friend. And blood she must have or she will die. Roll up your sleeve. There is no time to waste. (Van Helsing begins taking the necessary equipment out of his valise.) 31 rcs ithcen eee eee SEWARD. (Looking at the equipment.) I’ve never seen such in- struments. VAN HELSING. The ghastly paraphernalia of our beneficial trade. (Giving him a cloth doused in alcohol.) Swab your arm with this, (Seward does as told, as Van Helsing does the same to Lucy’s arm. During the following, Van Helsing inserts the transfusion de- vice into their arms, connecting them via a long, thin tube — then turns a lever on a small pump which begins the transfer of blood, LIf possible, we see the tube go from clear to blood-red. }) SEWARD. She fears her dreams, but dreaming alone can- not render such havoc. I remember nothing from my studies that ever spoke of such a — VAN HELSING. Remember, friend, that knowledge is stron- ger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker. (Lift your arm a degree. Good.) The case of our dear miss is one that may be — mind, I say may be — of such interest that we may generate new and vital knowledge regarding the canon of catastrophe. Take then good note of it. Nothing is too small. I counsel you, put down in record even your doubts and surmises. SEWARD. You speak as if formulating a theory — VAN HELSING. (Ah, be this not love in its purest sense? To transfer from full veins of one to empty veins of another.) — Now, my good friend John, this word of caution: You deal with madmen. All men are mad in some way or the other, and inasmuch as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so, too, you must deal with God’s madmen. SEWARD. Who might they be? VAN HELSING. The rest of the world. You and I must keep knowledge in its place. We must keep what we learn here — (Touches Seward on the heart.) and here — (Touches him on the forehead.) — and trust only one another with these secrets. SEWARD. You speak as though playing a game. VAN HELSING. I assure you, John, there is no jest here. Only life and death ... and perhaps more. (The transfusion com plete, Van Helsing begins removing the equipment from them, as — Mina enters, coat on, carrying her traveling bag.) MINA. Lucy?! What has. happened to her?! 32 Cerne vetSEWARD. She's resting now. Professor Van Helsing has com- pleted a transfusion of blood. (Mina turns to Van Helsing.) Pro- fessor: Lucy's dear friend, Miss Mina Murray. MINA. Hello. VAN HELSING. An honor. We've done all we can at present. MINA. But what of the cause? VAN HELSING. A mystery in want of pursuit. SEWARD. You've just returned from Budapest? MINA. Yes. SEWARD. And Mr. Harker, how is he? MINA. He is restored, God be thanked. His good humor has returned. His terrors have abated. Coming home, it seems, has proved the most soothing medicine. (Harker enters.) Ah, here he is. Jonathan, this is Dr. Seward and Professor Van Helsing. They've been looking after — (As they step toward Harker to greet him, Harker suddenly turns and walks D., away from them — an eerie green light begins to shine on Harker's face. He speaks with an odd, detached terror — as though he were about to go mad.) Jonathan, what is it? HARKER. It is the man himself. (Seward and Van Helsing look at one another.) Just now, on the street outside. With mine own two eyes I saw him! My god, it is the man himself! MINA. Jonathan, what are you — HARKER. But he has grown young. The grey hair, the weath- ered face are gone. Such a change that I thought mine eyes mistaken — but there can be no mistake! It is truly he! Oh, if I had only known! (Mina rushes to him. The men close in as well, fearing he may come to some harm.) MINA. Enough, now! It’s over! You’re home and safe — HARKER. (Overlapping.) And that I, wretched fate, was his solicitor! (Harker swiftly pulls a very large hunting knife from a sheath on his belt.) Would I'd had my knife with me then — No! The thought will drive me mad! MINA. Jonathan, no! HARKER. / have loosed him on England! An ever-widening circle of death have I brought to these shores! (On his knees.) I had my chance and I did nothing! MY FAILURE SHALL NOT GO UNPUNISHED! (He quickly braces the knife on the 33 ee ltha ground and is about to impale himself on it, as — Seward and Van Helsing pull him back at the last instant, saving his life. Ming screams, as —- Seward and Van Helsing haul Harker out Of the room.) HARKER. VAN HELSING. Forgive me! Oh, God, _Into the other room! Quickly! forgive me! Oh, Mina! _ Prepare a syringe! Morphine — Mina, forgive me! ten milligrams! (Harker and the men are gone. A low musical drone, as lights pult down and isolate — Mina, as she slumps to the floor, too distraught to cry, too exhausted to move. Then, a sound of wings flapping, as — Mina looks off in the direction which Harker was taken. The sound disappears, Mina looks around. Then ... she walks to her bag and opens it. She removes something from the bag and sits, placing it in front of her ... It is Harker’s journal. She looks at it. Then ... she removes the blue ribbon which binds it shut. Sets the ribbon aside, still staring at the closed journal, as — Van Helsing enters.) VAN HELSING. He's calmed now. It will — (He stops when he sees her silence and demeanor. She does not look up at him. Si- lence.) Miss Mina? MINA. (Quietly, with resolve.) A shadowy pall seems to have come over our happiness. VAN HELSING. Had I but answers, I would relieve your fears. But, the web is not fully spun — the shape of our mis- ery not yet revealed. MINA. We will learn it all too late, I fear. And knowledge is useless to the dead. VAN HELSING. Not so, Miss Mina. It is, in fact, on account of the dead that I have come. (Silence. Mina stares at him ... then lifts the journal.) MINA. I fear some clue lies here within. Jonathan's trust has willed these words remain unread. But, I must know what has brought him to this horrid precipice. (She looks back to Var Helsing.) Will you help me, Professor? (Van Helsing nods, steps in, Mina crosses herself. Then ... she slowly i which, simultaneously — Opens a huge door, U. [or: the sound of a huge door opening is heard.] Music. Smoke swirls amid the light, which reveals — Dracula. Much older now. His hair long, grey and wild. co Cee covetRr 1 4 pallid complexion 10 his face. Long, yellowed fingernails, danger- Ath sharp. He descends [perhaps] « long winding staircase, He speaks in a friendiy, gracious manner ) DRACULA. Welcome to my home! Enter freely and go safely weaving something of the happiness you bring! (Harker, car- ping a ualise and his briefcase, enters — the castle, Transylvania. Thi room is defined primarily by a few indeterminate objects which are shrouded in_ black cloth. An ancient, cob-webbed chandelier hangs above, unlit.) HARKER. Count Dracula? DRACULA. I am Dracula. And I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker. Come in! The night air is chill. You must need eat and rest. (With a wave of his hand, Dracula the chandelier light up. As Harker looks up at takes his bags from him and carries them away, ous, but the destination worthwhile. HARKER. I have brought the information you requested re- garding the properties in London. Furthermore, Mr. Dawkins, my superior, recommends that — DRACULA. (Politely.) Mr. Harker. HARKER. Yes. DRACULA. You have traveled far. Let your host see to your pleasure before you see to his business. (Dracula throws back one Of the black coverings, revealing — Supper. Set, elegantly, for one. The covered silver platter is identical to the one used by Renfield in the first scene.) 1 do hope you're hungry. HARKER. I am, actually. (Dracula pulls back Harker's chair. Harker sits.) DRACULA. I pray you, sit and sup as you please. You will, I trust, excuse me that I do not join you. I have dined already. (Dracula prepares to lift the cover of the plate. He stops, looks in Harker’s eyes ...) And I do not sup. (He uncovers the dish with a flourish. It is a beautiful roast chicken, amid vegetables and sliced Jruit.) Please. Enjoy. (Harker begins to eat. Dracula blows a cloud of dust from a wine bottle, and looks at the label.) Ahh. A gift from ‘Attila, The Huns were despicable, but they knew their wine. (Dracula fills Harker’s glass, as — Harker stares at him. Finally, Harker laughs a bit, assuming the remark was in jest.) makes the candles on the candles, Dracula ) The tip is ardu- 35 “ Ceeriee evithHARKER. _(Jokingly.) Oh, yes, I see. Passed down, then — from an ancient recipe. ; DRACULA. (Not jokingly.) A gift. From an ancient adversary, (Harker looks down at the glass of wine.) HARKER. Won't you join me, then? DRACULA. (Immediately, indentically.) Won't you join me, then? HARKER. Pardon? DRACULA. My apologies, Mr. Harker — but I must study you. I must learn your ways. (The wine.) How is it? (Dracula ges- tures for Harker to “drink, please.” Harker takes a sip of his wine. Dracula watches him, intently.) HARKER. Delicious. DRACULA. (Eyeing Harker’s neck.) Yes. HARKER. You don't partake? DRACULA. Of wine? HARKER. Yes. DRACULA. No. Not of wine. HARKER. If it be not too bold, may I — DRACULA. Bold. Yes! Is that the way of things in London — bold? Please — I must know all I can of your city. HARKER. So, you've never been? DRACULA. No, but I have my maps and charts. And my books — many books — and as I read, I imagine. And as I imagine, I hunger. HARKER. London is a fine city. DRACULA. More to the point, friend: it is a crowded city. How I delight in thinking of the bustling streets, peopled with the mad whirl and rush of humanity. Oh, to be in the midst of that banquet of life! HARKER. I should, I think, enj spaces. The riding and hunting. DRACULA. You hunt, do you? HARKER. When time allows. DRACULA. And, pray, what do you hunt? HARKER. Bear, elk, the ae deer. DRACULA. Knife or bow? HARKER. Both, actually, joy the country. The open 36 vv vithrer-—™ DRACULA. I shall like you, Mr. Harker. (Touching his lips.) 1, too, enjoy the occasional deer. We are fighters, you see. We Carpathians have bravery and conquest in our veins. (Fiercely, proudly.) It is no wonder that when the Magyar, the Lombard, the Avar, or the Turk poured his thousands upon our fron- tier — we drove them back. Legion after legion, they came for our land and we sentenced them to heaven, instead. We are a fierce people, Mr. Harker. With a wealth of victories like the Hapsburgs and Romanoffs will never know. HARKER. You speak with the passion of one who was there. DRACULA. (Softer, reflective.) Da Vinci have I known. Charlemagne. Bach. (Harker looks at him, says nothing.) But, great men, like galaxies, end as dust. We Carpathians have come to know that the early times, the warlike days are over. In our world, Mr. Harker, blood is too precious a thing to be spilt. (A cock crows, in the distance. Dracula rises.) But, I have spo- ken too long. It is near morning and I must retire. I leave you, then, to your rest. (He throws back another black covering, revealing — a small bed, and night table. On the bed, inexplicably, is Harker’s valise and briefcase which we saw Dracula carry off, else- where. On the table is a pitcher and basin of water, and a towel.) One thing, Mr. Harker: You may go anywhere you like in the castle, except where the doors are locked, where of course you will not wish to go. We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things. But, did you see with my eyes .. and know with my knowledge ... you would better under- stand. (Cock crows, again.) Good night, then. And good mom- ing. (With a sweeping flourish of his cape, he turns and goes, as lights isolate — Harker, standing by the night stand, removing his shirt, and — Mina, holding the journal, with Van Helsing near her. Mina begins to dose the journal.) VAN HELSING. Miss Mina — read on. MINA. I'm afraid I’m mistaken, Professor. There is nothing here to enlighten us. (Van Helsing takes her hand — stopping her from closing the journal.) VAN HELSING. Miss Mina, I beg of you. These notes — this shorthand — was written for a reason. We must read on! 37 _— Cee elthMINA. I've not time to waste. These are travel notes — business dealings with an aging nobleman — nothing more, The secrets Jonathan spoke of must be elsewhere, they must — VAN HELSING. (His face very close to hers.) Listen to me: Hid- den in the world — in the dark creases of books, in the swirl of ink on innocent pages — hidden there are wild and mys- terious things. And if we are to reach into the darkness and bring Jonathan a gleam of peace — we must not be deterred. We must, from this moment on, be relentless. WE MUST KNOW THE ALL OF IT. (Silence. Mina stares at him. He puts the open journal back into her hands.) Now: page forward, Miss Mina. I pray you: page forward and read on. (Mina pages for- ward in the journal, as — Harker stands in his undershirt. He holds the rosary in his hand ... looks at it ... then puts it around his neck. He has retrieved a mug of shaving creme and a straight razor from his bag. He applies a small amount of creme to one side of his preparing to shave. Sound of a wolf howling, long and plaintive. Harker lifts a small mirror, holds it up in front of him. Another wolf howls. Harker lifts the razor and is about to bring the razor to his neck, when — Dracula appears, behind him. He watches Harker from a distance, “mirroring” Harker's motions delicately, with his fingers, as — Harker shaves. He cannot, of course, see Dracula in the_mir- ror. Still another wolf howls, followed by — a slight, delicious sigh from Dracula, his eyes closed, savoring the touch, the memory ... Harker, hearing the sigh, ashs:) HARKER. Who's there? (Startled, Harker, looks quickly into the mirror. He angles the mirror in several ways, trying to find Dracula's image in it — without success. Harker begins to turn:) DRACULA. You needn't turn. I don’t wish to disturb you. (Strangely, nervously, Harker continues shaving.) Only to study you. To learn the curve of your neck. HARKER. _I will be leaving in the morning. I had not in- tended to stay a full week. And, since, our business is nearly complete, I shall — DRACULA. Mr. Harker — HARKER. Yes? DRACULA. You've cut yourself. (Harker sees it in the mirror.) HARKER. So, I have. (Harker begins to reach for the towel.) eck, 38 weve_ ~© a DRACULA. Please. Allow me. (Wolf howls, as — Dracula ap- proaches, until he is directly behind Harker. He takes the towel from Harker, With one hand, Dracula gently tilts Harker’s head to one side, exposing his neck, exposing the cut. A loud wolf howl, as — Dracula throws back his head, saying:) Ah, the Children of the Night. What beautiful music they make! (Dracula opens his mouth, re wealing the long, canine teeth for the first time. With his other hand, he lets the towel fall to the ground. As he is about to plunge his teeth into Harker's neck — The piercing sound of a huge door slamming shut is heard. Harker turns, shocked by the sound, and — seeing the crucifix, Dracula lets go of Harker and stumbles back, away, with ‘a scream — more wolves howling. More music. Harker takes hold of the crucifix and looks down at it, looks up at Dracula, frightened, confused.) You must take care, Mr. Harker! Take care how you cut yourself — it is more dangerous than you think in this counuy! HARKER. (Grabbing the towel from the floor.) Where are my pa- pers? (Dracula stares at him.) Answer me, please! All my papers — they're gone — everything — my notes, letters, even the deed to the property itself — as yet unsigned — gone — DRACULA. You've been blessed with a disappearance! How fortunate! MINA. But this journal, how did it survive? VAN HELSING. The shorthand — he knew not its contents! HARKER. And my clothes — all but what I have on is miss- ing! DRACULA. I'll find you a nice cape. Now, tell me of my new home. HARKER. I've told you. For a week now, I've — DRACULA. Tell me again — I must be certain. Is it an old place? HARKER. Yes, of course, as I've told you each night, it was formerly a — DRACULA. I'm so glad. For you see, Mr. Harker, I am old — old in ways which few can rival or understand — and to live in a new house would kill me. Do tell me the name again. (A high ringing sound, as — Dracula is toward Harker’s head. Harker leans forward a bit, staring at Dracula, fro- 39 Veen eelthzen, saying nothing. The sound of digging begins softly, qj, Exvellent! A fine and noble name! And, it’s Iocan) Dracula extends his fingers, and, again, Harker stares at yt” saying nothing.) Splendid! cula, VAN HELSING. — Wait, go back! We must know! (Mina tum, the page back.) The name and location — we must know itt MINA. — (Looking in the book.) It’s not here — there is noth- ing here — VAN HELSING. (Grabbing the book.) Let me see that! MINA. The page is burned away — burned away in two places — VAN HELSING. How can that be? (The sound of digging is now much louder.) DRACULA. And as for light, tell me — is it well appointed? HARKER. (Bitterly,) Well — no — in fact, it is quite shrouded in darkness — DRACULA. I commend you, Mr. Harker. I love the shade and the shadow; the solitude and potent quiet of the night. HARKER. Agitated.) But there is no quiet here, only this dig- ging! I am forever hearing the sound. Shovels digging, doors being opened and shut — DRACULA. Only the gypsies below, doing my bidding. HARKER. And the boxes? Large boxes being hauled out — the last three days and nights — what is the meaning of that? DRACULA. That work is entrusted to another solicitor, my friend. (A threat.) 1 beg you not to press me further. J must g° to England. 1 am starving here. For want of companionship. For want of life! (Dracula removes a paper — the deed — from his cloth- ing.) Here is the deed. It lacks only your signature. HARKER. How did you — ae DRACULA. (He produces a writing instrument, He holds it ol to Harker, who stares at it, not moving. Sound of bats shrihing a the howl of the wolves, and the music.) Come, Mr Harker. VM, what you started. (Another long moment of standoff, then, Fe — Harker grabs the writing instrument and signs the deed. smiles.) Your good work shall be rewarded ten-fold. HARKER. I want to leave. DRACULA. Very well. | ere TtHARKER. I want to leave tonight. DRACULA. I'm afraid that’s impossible. HARKER. Why? DRACULA. My coachman and horses are away. HARKER. I'll walk! DRACULA. Alone among the wolves?! HARKER. I'll hazard a chance. Now, please, point me to the door! DRACULA. Oh, Mr. Harker, I'll point you to ALL the doors! (Dracula gestures with a flourish, producing — a deafening cacophony of doors being bolted shut. Dracula laughs heartily over this sound.) HARKER. (Overlapping the sound of the doors.) Wait! No! MINA. (Overlapping Harker.) JONATHAN! DRACULA. You English have a phrase: “Welcome the com- ing, speed the parting guest!” You see, I am happy, Mr. Harker, to speed your parting — (And, saying this, he extends his fingers towards Harker's eyes, freeing him in his tracks, Harker fights to stay conscious — holding his own head with his hands — but — Dracula gradually hypnotizes him during the following speech .. until Harker is lying on the bed, immobile.) HARKER. (Fighting the hypnosis.) No — let me go — I must go — DRACULA. I have all I need of you, Mr. Harker. Your work is at an end. HARKER. (Weakening.) I must tell them — tell them of the digging — the boxes of earth — DRACULA. And, I shall carry your memory with me to En- gland. HARKER. (Barely audible.) Mina — Mina, be warned — oh, Mina ... (The hypnosis complete, Harker lies on the bed. With an- other gesture, Dracula snuffs the candles on the chandelier out. He turns and goes, as lights isolate — the bed. It is lit by a shaft of moonlight. Light also remains on Mina and Van Helsing.) VAN HELSING. That is enough for tonight! Put yourself through no more, I beg of you — MINA. No, you're right, Professor — I must page forward, T must know it, I must know it all! (Mina flips quickly through more pages. As she does, there is — motion on all around 41 Cee vithHarker Motion under the sheets, then arms... and legs ... coming up out of the bed (or: from under and behind the bed.) Sound of passionate breathing, hissing, sinister whispers, the pounding of a heart, growing faster and faster, as — the arms and legs slither around on Harker’s body, slowly waking him, seductively, erotically — then, their faces emerge ... they are the two vixens we glimpsed | earlier. White faces, blood-red mouths, wild hair, flowing garments . and, of course, fanged teeth. Sound builds. Harker responds, still half- asleep, caressing the vixens, letting himself be kissed on the mouth, kissed all over his body, pleasurably. Then ... his expression begins to change. He wakes fully and sees their fanged-teeth, their red eyes, He realizes his arms and legs are tied to the bed. He realizes he is in | mortal danger.) | HARKER. What are you?! NO! LET ME GO! (The Vixens hover just above his exposed neck on either side, They look at each other, lick their lips, smile, and then:) HARKER. MINA. AHHHHHHHH!!!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! (They plunge their teeth his_neck, as — Dracula instantly appears, holding a small cloth sack, screaming volcanically.) DRACULA. HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU TOUCH HIM! HE IS MINE!!! (The Vixens are thrown aside by Dracula's gesture. They crawl about on the ground — furious, helpless, breath- ing wildly.) Back, both of you! Back to your place! Your time with him will come! Tomorrow I set sail, and then he shall be yours. (The Vixens coo, moan and lick their lips.) You may feast upon him then at your will. VIXEN ONE. And tonight? DRACULA. What of it? VIXEN TWO. Are we to have nothing tonight? (From the cloth bag, he pulls a tiny, crying baby, holding it by the legs. The Vixens eyes light up, hungrily. Harker looks on, horrified.) VAN HELSING. My god! (Dracula quickly puts the baby back into the cloth bag — and hands the bag to the Vixens. They take the bag — reaching into it, cooing and whispering and touching the [unseen] baby lovingly. They stand behind the bed — directly over Harker’s head. Music and sounds build, as — Dracula throws back one final black covering, revealing — a wooden box, coffin-sized, iden- 42 Vv we wthre tical to the one seen earlier. Dracula opens the box and steps inside, saying:) DRACULA. And so, my great good thanks to you, Mr. Harker! I shall leave you in the good hands of the loving Carpathian people! (The Vixens plunge their faces down into the bag as they devour the baby. The blood drips out of the bag and falls onto Harker’s face and chest, below them. The Vixens are ravenous, sloppy eaters — their faces growing red and wet with the fertile plea- sures of fresh life. Dracula climbs into the woo as — Mina drops the journal and runs to the edge of the stage, C., throwing her- self to the ground — Van Helsing stands, holding the journal — Renfield, caged [or: in a shaft of light}, appears.) MINA. HARKER. RENFIELD. JONATHAN!!! NOOOOOO!!! MASTER!!! DRACULA. AND I, MR. HARKER — RENFIELD. I'M HERE MASTER!!! VAN HELSING. MY GOD, IT’S TRUE! DRACULA. — IAM BOUND FOR ENGLAND!!! (Music very quickly crescendos, as — the Vixens eat — Harker screams — Mina sobs — Renfield rants — Van Helsing prays aloud to the heavens, crossing himself — And, Dracula lowers himself into the box, and then closes the lid of the box, slamming it shut — instant silence. All lights out, except for a shaft of light on — Mina. Still crying, quietly, she raises her head. Next to her, on the ground, its head [per- haps] moving everso-slightly, is — a large black raven. Mina stares at the raven, wiping her tears. She reaches out her hand, fearfully at ‘first, toward the raven’s head. She gently touches the raven’s head with her fingers, as — final quick burst of music, loud. Light on Mina Snaps out, fast.) END OF ACT ONE 43 - Cee vithACT TWO A guest room at the asylum. Comfortably appointed, but ob- viously concerned with security — bars on the window, etc ‘A bed, the window, and a small table and chairs are essen tial. Black drapes — similar to those in Lucy's room in Act One — frame the window. Van Helsing and Seward are busily festooning the entire room with strings of garlic, rubbing the window panes and cur- tains, draping the bed. VAN HELSING. The outer gate, as you say, is guarded at all times? SEWARD. Yes. VAN HELSING. And there is no other access to this room? SEWARD. None, whatsoever. The room was built for digni- taries who, on occasion, would visit the asylum — to show they were a “friend to those less fortunate.” Most quickly found they could not stomach the inmates — and thus spent their time safely locked away in here. (Van Helsing nods, approvingly, and then sees something on the floor in the center of the room. He kneels and looks at it.) What is it? VAN HELSING. Just a bit of dirt. SEWARD. I'll have the staff be more thorough. VAN HELSING. See, too, that they allow no strangers to enter. SEWARD. They won't I assure you. VAN HELSING. Assurance is not enough, John. They must be vigilant. They must be rigorously on-guard against the un- known. (He returns to his work in the room.) Pay special atten- tion to the doors and windows. SEWARD. Professor, I’m afraid I don't understand — VAN HELSING. It was necessary to move Lucy from her 4 vVuuwn worthhome to a safer room. You have Provided that, here at the sylum. EWARD. But, safe from what? VAN HELSING. Do not fear, John, to think the most un- probable. And, as you think it, temember our promise to one another: to not enlighten, and thus, not alarm, the others. There is misery enough among them. SEWARD. — But what effect will 8arlic have on her loss of blood? VAN HELSING. Perhaps none. And perhaps all. (Van Helsing stops in his work and turns to Seward.) You have been of great help to her, John. And, in no less than blood, she is your bride. SEWARD. No man knows — till he experiences it — what it is to feel his own life drawn away and into the veins of the woman he adores. VAN HELSING. Further, I trust in your inspection you en- countered the marks on Miss Lucy’s neck. SEWARD. Yes. I did. VAN HELSING. And you mean to tell me you have no sus- picion as to what is killing your dear Lucy? SEWARD. A nervous prostration following on great loss of blood. VAN HELSING. And how was the blood lost? (Seward stares at him.) John, it is the fault of our science that it wants to ex- plain everything — and if it fails, then it says there is noth- ing to explain. SEWARD. But if her blood — great quantities of her blood — was lost through a wound in her neck, where did it go? It Was not on her clothing, her bedding, it was nowhere to be seen. If it happened as you say: what took it out? (Mina enters, camying a large box wrapped with a colorful ribbon.) MINA. A package has arrived for you, Professor. VAN HELSING. Splendid. If you'll place it on the bed. (She does.) And Miss Lucy? MINA. She's on her way. SEWARD. I'll see her up. Excuse me. (Seward exits.) MINA, Professor Van Helsing, I must ask — 45 = Ceri vetVAN HELSID G. Oh, Miss Mina, how can I say what | owe « journal was as sunshine to me. It opened to you? Mr, Harker’s journal i a gate shrouded in superstition and disregard — and it dazzleq me with insight MINA. Yes, I gather that, but even still — VAN HELSING. If ever Abraham Van Helsing can do any- thing for you or yours, if ever I may serve you as a friend, | trust you will let me know. There are darknesses in this life, and there are lights; and you, Miss Mina, are surely one of the lights. MINA. (Pause.) There is something. VAN HELSING. Please. MINA. Lucy has told you of her dreams. But, I fear they are not dreams. VAN HELSING. What do you mean? MINA. Many nights I would wake to find her gone. Walk- ing in her sleep, toward the cliffs. Many nights I found her there and brought her home. Then, she began to grow ill. (Pause.) Professor, I have pledged her my confidence, so I must ask you — VAN HELSING. Miss Mina, your words have my trust. Now, when you found her at the cliffs, was she alone? MINA. Yes. Each time but one. (Van Helsing sits, curious.) Once there was a man — or a shadow of a man — all in black, his face in shadow. I thought nothing of it till reading Jonathan's journal. The man he described, and what he wrote ‘of the Count’s plans to come to London — I know not what this means, but there seems to be some thread of continuity, some — (Stops.) No, it is too strange. You will laugh and think me foolish. VAN HELSING. Oh, my dear, I have learned not to belitle anyone's beliefs — no matter how strange — for it is not the ordinary things which close our minds — but the extraordinary things, those mysteries on the fringe of our thinking. MINA. This, then, my request: I want to know what you know. I want to be informed of what you learn, as you learn it. VAN HELSING. (Pouse,) Miss Mina, while it is true that Mr 46 Coen eet_ —— Harker's suffering falls within the range of my experience — MINA. You have promised your friendship. Is your promise , worthy one or not? (Lucy enters, ushered in by Seward. She re- mains extremely pale.) RD. Here we are. LUCY, It’s just as you described. MINA. Professor? VAN HELSING. You have my word. LUCY. But you said nothing of the smell. My God! VAN HELSING. A medicinal contrivance, nothing more. SEWARD. One of us will stay here with you at all times — to keep watch, to assure your safety. (Van Helsing hands her the wrapped box.) VAN HELSING. And this, Miss Lucy, is for you. LUCY. Such flattery do the unwell receive! (She opens the box. Removes a beautiful wreath of garlic.) Oh, Professor, such a beau- tiful wreath. I shall hang it on the — VAN HELSING. It’s to be worn. LUCY. Worn? (He places the wreath over her head.) VAN HELSING. Like this. LUCY. Well, the garlic around the window is one thing, sir. But, I'm afraid I can’t — (She begins to remove the wreath. Van Helsing, with a firm hand, stops her.) VAN HELSING. It will guard against your bad dreams, Miss Lucy — LUCY. (With a laugh.) But, it's common garlic! I fear you're having a joke on me, Professor — VAN HELSING. (Fervently.) 1 warn you: do not thwart me! There is no jest in what I do! (They all look at him, stunned by his outburst.) Only grim purpose. Take care to mind me, if not for your own sake, then for that of the others. (Lucy stares at him, curious. Then she lowers the wreath back down around her neck.) LUCY. I trust you have reasons for what you do, but I must Say it puzzles me. (With a laugh.) Were a stranger to walk in, ne think you were working a spell to keep out an evil VAN HELSING. (Simply.) Maybe I am. (An Attendant rushes in 0 the room.) 47 >ATTENDANT. Dr. Seward! SEWARD. What is i? ATTENDANT. | It’s Renfield — you must come! (Seward leaves Lucy’s side and starts out.) LUCY. John — VAN HELSING. (To Seward, urgently.) May I come with you? This madman may serve as an index for our investigation. SEWARD. In what way? VAN HELSING. Have not his outbursts coincided with Lucy's bad dreams? (Seward stares at him, as Van Helsing turns quickly to Lucy.) We leave you in the best of hands. (Van Helsing rushes off. Seward follows.) LUCY. Professor — (Pause, turns to Mina.) What is happen- ing to me? MINA. You musn’t think of it. You need only to rest and — LUCY. Mina, promise me this. MINA. Anything at all. LUCY. Promise you'll forgive me. MINA. Lucy, don’t be silly — forgive you for what? LUCY. For something I know not of. But there are dark imaginings in me. I have fought to rid my mind of them ... put they rise up within me, bringing color to my cheeks and a sickly taste in my mouth. (Mina stares at her.) God help me, Mina. I don't know what I've become. (Lights shift quickly to Renfield’s cell. Renfield sits, inexplicably, in a small, odd ‘chair, It seems to be made of golden bones, bedecked with jewels. He sits, unchained, in a distinguished manner, smoking an imaginary cigarette, holding court with great élan. As Renfield talks, Seward and Van Helsing rush in. An Attendant is outside the cell.) RENFIELD. Oh, and do let me recount how she came into the room: With such joie de vivre, such an easy gracefulness which would command the respect of any lunatic — for east ness is the one quality mad people respect the most. the men.) Arrive-ed from Gloucester! Pray, what news? 5 SEWARD. (To the Attendant.) What is — where did this chair come from? (The Attendant gestures that “he has no idea,” as:) RENFIELD. From one who holds me in high esteem. VAN HELSING. From the one you call Master? (Seeing 48 wv weet~~ | RENFIFLD. (To Seward, referring to Van Helsing.) Oh, where aed vou find him? SEWARD. enfield, listen to. me — RENFIELD. And the girl, John! Oh, no wonder you're heart- broken. She came by, using an assumed name. I found that dashing, We talked. T spoke of my fondness for Mozart — but she bested me with her treatise on Bach. "ARD. Miss Lucy has been upstairs all day — RENFIELD. She's a very clever girl! She called herself Mina, claimed to be lost — but then, we're all lost in here, aren't we? I do hope she found her way. VAN HELSING. You're speaking of Miss Mina, then? RENFIELD. Name them what you will, right, Johnny? Any bride will do. SEWARD. (Furious.) I will not tolerate this kind of — VAN HELSING. John! Match not madness with wits. Pursue it as it plays. RENFIELD. Her voice, like water: “Could you point me to the guest room, I seem to have taken a wrong turn.” IT quoth her a sonnet and sent her on her way. A lovely creature. She shall be missed. VAN HELSING. Missed? Do say more. In what way will she be missed? (Renfield carefully drops his imaginary cigarette to the ground and puts it out with his foot. He leans forward, speaks with an urgent clarity.) RENFIELD. I entreat you, Dr. Seward, to let me out of this madhouse. Send me away from here — anywhere you will — or I will be forced to do something terrible. VAN HELSING. And what would that be? RENFIELD. I am in great danger, sir! SEWARD. You're in no danger at all. You're perfectly safe here — RENFIELD. I am speaking from the depth of my soul. I beg of you. You don’t know what you do by keeping me here! You don’t know whom you shall harm — and I, bound to secrecy, cannot tell you! SEWARD, —(Angrily.) You will stay here till the court deems you fit, and these wild harangues in no way further your wish 49 Lo CeeneecathTee OO ee eee = to be considered sane! (And now, a total change in Renfeta, 4 stands on the chair, leaps at the men, leaps about the cell with adr don, This is not dementia — but a fierce, purposeful fury. The ae shout ad-libs, trying to calm him, make sense of him.) len RENFIELD. Send me where you will! Bind me! Beat mer Drag me away! Tie me to a rock and throw me in a jail — do whatever you must, BUT TAKE ME FROM HERE ANp SAVE MY SOUL FROM GUILT! VAN HELSING. SEWARD. What guilt do you speak of? — Calm yourself and explain — RENFIELD. Oh — hear me — by all you hold sacred — hy all you hold dear — by your love that is lost — by your hope that still lives — for the sake of the dear God Almighty — SEWARD. VAN HELSING. THAT'S ENOUGH NOW — Hear him out — RENFIELD. DON'T YOU SEE, JOHNNY, I AM CURED! 1 AM NO LUNATIC IN A MAD FIT — BUT A SANE MAN FIGHT. ING FOR HIS SOUL! SEWARD. (To the Attendant.) See that he goes nowhere. (In a flash of rage, Renfield produces a small, curved sword. [It is per- haps part of the chair.] He takes a wild swing at Seward, cutting him on the arm.) RENFIELD. HEAR ME NOW! (Seward grabs his cut arm, as his shirt begins to bloody. The Attendant rushes out. Renfield’s at- tention shifts instantly to the sword. He kneels, staring at the blood on the sword. Then, he begins to lick the blood from the sword. This calms and delights him. He speaks, softly, repeatedly, to himself.) The blood is the life ... the blood is the life ... the blood is the life ... SEWARD. (Bitterly, overlapping Renfield.) And what now? What is your thesis now? VAN HELSING. My thesis is this: I want you to believe. SEWARD. To believe what?! VAN HELSING. To believe in things that you cannot. That is essence of faith. To accept the things which cannot be proved! SEWARD. With all due respect, my patience with your cryP tic homilies is coming to an end. (Van Helsing grabs Seward, forcefully and urgently.) Cen commtthVAN HELSING. Can you tell me and all places — have believed that five on always? That there are why men — in all ages there are some few who men and women who cannot die? RENFIELD. — (Looking up at them, suddenly, cogently.) | did what 1 could to warn you. Remember that. (They look at Renfield, as lights shift to — the guest room at the Asylum. Sunset. The final crescent of @ huge sun is seen outside the window, During the fol- lowing, it will set completely, slowly disappearing from view, Lucy is in bed, asleep. She wears the wreath of garlic around her neck. Her color, however, is restored. She looks much like she did at the begin- ning of the play — beautiful, tranquil. Mina sits in a chair near the bed, also asleep, Harker’s journal open on her lap. Faintly, in the distance, a boys’ choir sings a solemn, beautiful hymn. A Female Attendant enters, carrying tea on a tray. Waking neither of the women, she sets the tray in the room ... then begins to leave. She Stops. She sees something. She walks D. ... bends down to inspect Something on the floor in the center of the room. Shrugs, slightly. From her apron, she removes a small hand-broom. She sweeps a small bit of dirt from the rug — and into her open hand. Finished with this task, she starts ‘0 leave, as — Seward enters the room. His arm is bandaged. He whispers to the Female Attendant.) SEWARD. How is she? FEMALE ATTENDANT. I don't know, Doctor. Miss Mina’s been with her. (Seward nods. The Female Attendant exits. Seward sees the tea tray. He goes to it, begins to pour a cup of tea, then — Stops. His eyes have caught sight of — Lucy. In her sleep, she is removing the wreath of garlic from around her neck. Never waking, Lucy tosses the wreath aside, then lies back and sleeps, peacefully. Seward stands, frozen, watching her, as — Mina wakes.) MINA. Doctor? SEWARD. Startled.) What — MINA. What is it? (Seeing his bandaged arm.) What has hap- pened to your arm? SEWARD. Oh — clumsiness, I’m afraid. Miss Mina, if I may — (Pause, she looks up at him, she nods.) Did you have occasion 'o see one of my patients earlier today? MINA. In fact, I did. I became lost, entered a corridor pened a large door, and found myself in the midst of your 51 ~~ Ceenee eeithwas quile jnmates- I was oun results, I think. good resulls, ea ee the wreath from Lucy threw it. Lot e ead a vit, planning ch her hair — around her her neck. He stops: neck. Touches her neck, ge! the bed ..- surprised, ov yells off.) Miss, come quickly! as — the Female Aten: Find Professor Van ‘Attendant nods.) Tell him d SEWARD. still sleeping, of her, urgently.) here. (The Female marks on her nec! Quickly now — go! Seward returns to the bed, joyously, not wake, The huge sun has now CO her hand, several {feels her prlse, touches come on now ‘ake her.) Lucy! Oh, d holds it near her mou! lowly closes her ees: changes. He squeezes it, again and again.) Lucy. (He Lucy, wake up. Lucy, please. Lucy. — (He lifts her eye lids, he begins to sI — Lug ... (He takes her hand mirror an and nose. Looks at the mirror. Nothing. He s qummoxed- : Count? A SEWARD. yo he called himself. she e seems m ily, with his fingers. 1 He moves quick Helsing. 1 spoke to a Count Renfield. He told me of his love for moves away.) Well, I'll leave uch better. Her sleep is e? {with him. And with w1,) May God's kindness be back at Lucy. He picks up ‘oks at it. Carries it to the to replace the wreath giving him a view of oks_more closely at He backs away from ly to the entrance and (He looks back at Lucy, who if in, Seward takes hold Send him directly hey are gone! The zared! She is healed! my god th He are mall He drops ta hs knees next to the bed, puting Is (A on her stomach. He cries, softly.) No long moment of nothing eee seen by Seward — Lucy's es open. She watches still on her stomach.) LUCY. oo sweetly.) Ob, Johnny, don’t cry. ( Seward is eyes wide, stares front, does not move. 52 "please, god +++ BO -~ "6 soft, aching cries. Them, him cry, his Music, 95 — ) I'm right ven weethhere. I'm right here with you. (He lifts his head slowly, and, see- ing her open eyes — he jumps back, away.) SEWARD. Lucy? LUCY. We're all alone, Johnny. SEWARD. Lucy, it can’t be. LUCY. Come here. (He does not move.) Please. (He stares at her. Then, he approaches, tentatively. Still keeping some distance, he takes hold of her wrist and feels her pulse.) Such warm hands. I like that. SEWARD. You've no pulse, Lucy. No pulse at all. Lucy, what is — LUCY. Kiss me. (He drops her arm, stands there, froven.) Please, Johnny. Haven’t you wanted to? J have. (He continues to stare at her. She is up now, kneeling on the bed, leaning toward him. Sweetly, alluring.) Oh, my love, I'm so glad you're here. Please ... kiss me. (She reaches out her arms to him.) 1 broke your heart, Johnny. And I shall never rest till you forgive me. Please ... take me back. Let me show you my true heart. (He steps to- ward her, and sits on the edge of the bed. She takes him gently in her arms — and holds his head lovingly to her chest. She strokes his hair, speaks softly.) That's it. That's it. Oh, I've wanted this for so long. (He nods, holding her more tightly, his head still tight against her chest.) You were right, you know. We do, each of us, have a secret life. (She bares her teeth, fully — revealing huge, hideous fangs, but still speaks sweetly, seductively. He, of course, has not yet seen her face.) And I want you to know mine. So, please, Johnny ... close your eyes. Will you do that for me? (He nods. He closes his eyes. He pulls his head away from her chest. She licks her lips, hungrily.) Good. Now ... kiss me, (She is breathing heavily now, her fangs bared — He leans forward, slowly, eyes st sel to hiss her — Her mouth moves toward his neck, her teeth are about ierce hi as — Van Helsing rushes in, followed by Harker. Van Helsing tackles Seward — pulling him out of Lucy's grasp. ) VAN HELSING. NOT FOR YOUR LIFE! (Lucy stands on the bed, in a rage, hissit and. is ing shrieking — Seward lands on the floor, opposite — Van Helsing stands between them, as Harker looks on.) NOT FOR YOUR LIVING SOUL OR MINE — YOU SHALL NOT HAVE HIM! (Seward has now clearly seen 53 Ceeree ehthis hideous version of Lucy for the first time.) My god — what has happened to her?! (Lucy be. SEWARD. gins to leap down from the bed onto Van Helsing.) Pucy. BE MINEE (~ just as Van Helsing produces a large cru. cifix.) if NEVER! (The crucifix stops her — she writhes, VAN HELSING. : hideously — 5 though on fire — caught in the throes of a vicious spasm ... then drops down onto the bed ... exhausted ... crying softly... Van Helsing moves closer to her. Harker helps Seward to his feet, as they both watch Lucy.) SEWARD. What in god's name has — VAN HELSING. Quiet, John. It is leaving her. (Lucy raises losed — a sad, beautiful look on her face. She her head, slowly, eyes 0 slowly opens her eyes. The rage has now left her completely. She is herself, once again.) LUCY. My true friend ... (Looking at Seward, speaking to Van Helsing.) ... guard him from me and give me peace ... keep him safe, for he is my true friend! VAN HELSING. I swear on it. (Lucy slumps quietly down onto the bed, She does not move. Long silence. A belt tolls, mournfully, in the distance. Seward turns to Van Helsing.) That’s all, now. She's gone from us. (Silence. Seward looks down at Lucy’s body.) SEWARD. (Softly.) God be thanked, her suffering is at an end. VAN HELSING. Not so, John. I'm afraid this is only the be- ginning. (The men both look at him.) We must arrange for the entombment as soon as possible. Then, we must wait. HARKER. Wait for what? VAN HELSING. There are strange and terrible days ahead of us. I entreat you: have faith in me. And, if it be in your heart: pity me. SEWARD. For what reason? It is I who've lost the light of my life. VAN HELSING. Pity me because J know why. SEWARD. But you tell us nothii imits of ™} jothing! You test the limits © y sympathetic understanding. Se (Approaching Harker.) Now, Mr. Harker, from Mina, Thie ont journal: you are in no danger. Nor is . om, in fact — all of the asylum, will remain safe 54 vere vefthvo long as no stranger is granted permission to enter. You were right, Mr. Harker: the Count is somewhere in London, and we shall find his whereabouts through you. HARKER. The name of the property, though, remains lost to me. VAN HELSING. As he burned it from your journal, so, too, he burned it from your mind. HARKER. I will find it, Professor! I am in your debt. You've shown me that I did see what I imagined — and, for that cure, | am ever at your service. (They shake hands.) VAN HELSING. Let us then be friends for all our lives. (Van Helsing now turns to Seward who remains at Lucy's bedside.) Now, there is bitter water we must pass through, John, before we arrive at the sweet. SEWARD. ENOUGH. Either tell me your plan or leave us in peace. I'm through being spoken to as though I were a child. VAN HELSING. You are a grown man, is that right? SEWARD. That's right. VAN HELSING. And no longer my student. SEWARD. That's right. VAN HELSING. And the man who once saved my life. SEWARD. Yes. VAN HELSING. Well, John, our accounts are settled. SEWARD. What does that mean? VAN HELSING. I have just saved yours. (Seward stares at him.) She is the Un-Dead. The restless blood-letting vampir. She has been cursed with immortality and must go on — age after age — preying on the life-blood of humanity, and multiplying the evils of the world in an ever-widening circle of malevolent destruction! Nosferatu! Scourge of Christendom, the Lords of Lucifer! SEWARD. Professor, have you gone mad?! VAN HELSING. Oh, that I had! Madness would be easy to bear compared with a truth such as this. Why, friend, do you think T've taken such time, such care to tell you? Knowing of Your love for her, I wished to be gentle — but it is no longer your heart which is at risk, John ... but your heart's emission. 55 Ceuniee vetthSEWARD. If this wild account be so, we are too late — jg that right? Her soul is already lost — VAN HELSING. Lost, but for our daring. Following her burial, we shall go to her tomb — this in secret to protect her good name, and to bring no more of her kind down upon us — and, once there .,. we shall drive a stake through her heart and sever her head from her body. HARKER. Professor —! SEWARD. (Overlapping) What have I done that you would torture me so?! I will never consent to that. I will not have her too-young grave dishonored in such a way. It’s unthink- able, that you, a learned man, would — VAN HELSING. No, John. I'll show you the unthinkable. If you dare join me at her tomb, the night of her burial, I will con- vince you of my plan. (Seward stares at him, as lights shift to — Renfield’s cell. Renfield sits in a tight ball on the ground. The chair is gone. An Attendant enters, and sels a large, steaming cup of lig- uid in the cell, near him.) ATTENDANT. Drink up, now. That’s a good boy. (The At tendant leaves. Renfield stares at the cup. The steam pours over the sides of the cup like fog. Then, from out of nowhere, the amplified voice of Dracula is heard.) VOICE OF DRACULA. Won't you ask me to enter? (Renfield looks, frantically, around the room.) My patience is wearing thin. RENFIELD. Where are you? VOICE OF DRACULA. I am everywhere. I am rock and wa- ter, cloud and fog. | am the hunt in the eyes of the beasts. RENFIELD. I've told you before — (He suddenly looks down at the steam pouring from the cup. He kneels and speaks, cautiously, to the steam.) I've told you “No.” I will not be damned as the devil’s accomplice. VOICE OF DRACULA. Did I not send you the flies? Great, fat ones with steel and sapphire on their wings. And then, the moths — with the heads of Death emblazoned on their backs? RENFIELD. (Now rocking back and forth.) The Acherontie at 7 VOICE OF DRACULA. Yes! But I will not stop there. | RENFIELD. (Covering his ears.) No more — 1 am listening 56 ween comethno more — VOICE OF DRACULA. ears, and stands. Music, as fully blood red.) Rats, rats a millions of them. And every one a lifet » thousands, RENFIELD. No! VOICE OF DRACULA. And Ca’ DOGS to eat the cats. All filled with filled with years and years of LIFE! RENFIELD. (Feverishly now.) And the DOGS? DOGS#! (The piercing sound of a whip strking fan Ta Oe VOICE OF DRACULA. (His voice echoing through the cell.) THE WOLVES! (Wolves howl, as the red light in the room pulses.) RENFIELD. (Licking his lips, tearing at his clothing.) Aaahhhhh! VOICE OF DRACULA. ALL THESE LIVES I SHALL GIVE YOU — FROM NOW TILL TIME ETERNAL — RENFIELD. Aaaaahhhhhhh! VOICE OF DRACULA. ALL THESE LIVES AND MORE SHALL BE YOURS ... IF YOU WILL FALL DOWN AND WORSHIP ME! (Renfield falls to his knees, crying.) RENFIELD. 1 am your servant! VOICE OF DRACULA. NOW: BID ME ENTER! (All sound stops, abruptly. Renfield takes a deep breath. He lifts the cup.) RENFIELD. Enter, my Lord and Master. ENTER! (A crash of sound, as — Renfield tosses the steam from the cup into the air, and it instantly becomes a — burst of smoke. Lights flicker out, briefly As the smoke clears ... and the lights restore ... Dracula is standing in the cell. Renfield instantly grovels at his feet.) 1 have waited pa- tiently, Master. I have waited with diigene os Cae holds a large rat in one of his hands. He snaps the r ae his hand, Uae blood to gush from it... and fall oni 's th and face.) DRACULA. And great shall be ee other burst of smoke ... another flicker of ‘igh ; gone. Renfild cries ous, looking around Jor BN) ya, RENFIELD. Take me with you! Please Poot or course, me! (Lights shift to — the guest room. Night: TC Me ays is full and prominent. Mina sits, holding a newspa} TS to eat the rats. And luscious red blood — all ter! Take 57 vwveusthe rosary around her neck, Harker is putting on a coat, preparing to leave.) MINA, — (Looking at the newspaper.) And here's another. That's three of them in two days. HARKER. Missing like the other s? MINA. Yes. A little boy. Six years old. Found lost, disoriented, a bruise on his neck. Claiming, like the others, to have been snatched up by the “Bloofer Lady.” HARKER. How odd. MINA. And on the day of Lucy's funeral — it’s too much to bear. (Approaching Harker, with great concern. ) Jonathan? (He tums to her, his coat on.) You've not told me where you're going. HARKER. You're safe here, Mina. MINA. That's not what I asked. We're to have no secrets. That is our pact. (Pause,) Now, it’s nearly midnight, where are you going? HARKER. I can’t tell you. MINA. Why? HARKER. I've been asked not to. MINA. By whom? (Pause, desperately.) Jonathan, please — HARKER. By Professor Van Helsing. He's assured me that neither of us is in danger. But, Miss Lucy must be attended to, and the whereabouts of the Count must be discovered. MINA. Attended to — what can that mean?! Lucy’s been en- tombed for days. And not two hours ago we said our final prayers over her. (Harker stares at her, then he takes her face in his hands.) Jonathan, please — what is it? HARKER. (Quietly.) You must trust in my silence, Mina. You must stay here where it is safe. (He kisses her, gently, on the fore head — then leaves. She stares off after him. Music, as — Mina prepares for bed — turning back the covers of the bed; then, remov- ing her dress, revealing a full white slip underneath, Then ... & actly like Lucy in Act One, Mina goes to the window and closes ont side of the drapes. Then ... as music builds ... the other. Nothing jumps out. Mina steps toward the bed, as — The sound of a large door opening is heard, accompanied by music and the hissing and rattling of snakes — Mina looks around trying to locate the sound, as — a door in the center of the floor, opens; [or: light pours onstage 58 Vu roretithGg —_ | som an previously unseen direction.] Music builds, as does the hiss. ng and rattling, Mina turns, sees the door in the floor, and gasps | she stands motionless, staring at the light pouring up, as — a hand nses from the door and reaches out to her. She stares, frown, fearful ... then ... she slowly walks towards the light transfixed. She stops, emblazoned by the light. She removes the rosary from her neck and lets it slowly fall to the ground. She reaches out and takes hold of the hand. Music and sound crescendo, as — Mina steps down into the opening, and disappears below [or: offstage in the direction of the light]. The door slams shut behind her, as music and sound snap out and lights shift to — the cell. Renfield, staring front with the dead eyes of an animal. He remains covered with the blood from the rat. He is bound at the ankle and wrist as before.) RENFIELD. In all the great rounds of its daily course, the sun rises on no life more miserable than mine. He has be- trayed me! And mark these words — RIGHT NOW, turn to the person next to you and borrow a pencil, for I shall not say this again: One should rather die than be betrayed. There sno deceit in death — it delivers precisely what it has prom- ‘sed. Betrayal, though ... betrayal is the willful slaughter of hope. (He stands, suddenly:) T SHALL NOT SIT. (Lights snap out on Renfield, and shift to — Lucy's tomb. A raised stone Sepulchre. It is Just before dawn. Van Helsing enters, carrying a lantern. He is fol- lowed by Harker, who carries a large cloth bag in one hand, and a Bible in the other. And, finally, by Seward.) VAN HELSING. Now, it is time. Now that the sun is about to rise — Jet us look within. (Van Helsing and Harker, using some ‘cols from the bag, prepare to remove the stone slab which covers the ‘omb. Seward stands at a distance. His coat or cape is draped over his shoulders.) SEWARD. Never have I endured a more woeful night. Wait- 8 in this graveyard for hours. And for what reason?! Raa HELSING. John, help us here. And may your eyes see Your heart refuses. (They push/lift the stone slab aside. They down into the tomb. ) PARKER. (Sonly.) My god. VAN HEL si aT down in the tomb wine ING. It’s as I feared. (Seward reaches in is hands, frantically.) 59 Pe Ceece velthWhat have you done with her? Answer me! In this very crypt I saw her laid, and — (To Van Helsing.) You're be. vey unis, aren't you? And I, of all people — 10 not recog. nize madness when it stands before me! VAN HELSING. John, listen to me — SEWARD. — With what malice do you lure the living to your purpose — and what ghastly plans do you inflict upon the dead?! HARKER. Dr. Seward, calm yourself — SEWARD. — (Overlapping.) WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER?! (Three simultaneous sounds: a child’s scream, a loud rustle of branches, and the howl of a wolf. Van Helsing listens, then speaks, firmly.) VAN HELSING. You require more proof? Well, you shall have it. (From the darkness, @ Voice. [or: if amplified, the Voice can come from a changing variety of directions].) VOICE. (An eerie sing-song.) Little boy ... little boy ... come and see me ... little boy ... HARKER. VAN HELSING. Who's there? Hide now — back away and observe! VOICE. I'ma friend of the children ... I'm the Bloofer Lady _ (The men continue to look around, trying to find the Voice.) Won't you come out and play? That would make the Bloofer Lady happy. (Lucy appears behind them, at a distance. She wears a long, tattered white garment, streaked down the front with fresh Blood. Around her neck hangs several strings of children’s shoes. Her face is completely pale. Blood drips from the comers of her mouth. Her hair and eyes are wild, furious, desirous.) LUCY. Hi, there, Johnny. (The men turn and see her.) Want to be my little friend? SEWARD. (Stunned by her appearance.) Lucy .... (Harker ut sheaths his knife, saying:) HARKER. Let me have at her — VAN HELSING. (Stopping Harker.) There's no need. The s¥? is almost up. LUCY. (To Seward.) Come to Lucy. My arms are sO hungry er you. Be my husband, Johnny — come to me and let me yours ... (Seward takes a few steps toward her, transfixed.) SEWARD. 60 —— Cen roeeGithvAN HELSING. That's not her, John — that’s not the Lucy AN HEI you know — > 5 Lucy. Who knows you better, Johnny? Who's loved you all these years? : : | VAN HELSING. (To Lucy.) Deception, nothing more, and it shall not work — LUCY. I know your thoughts, Jack. (Lucy — still at a distance from Seward — reaches out her hand, as though touching one of his shoulders, and then the other ... and, as he reacts to her “touch” ... his coat/cape falls slowly from his shoulders.) 1 know your wishes before you wish them. (UL, the huge sun can now be seen, begin: ning to rise. Lucy stands near the tomb. Seward steps closer to her.) SEWARD. What have they done to you? LUCY. They've given me LIFE. Life eternal. Yours for a kiss, Johnny. It’s all yours for a kiss. VAN HELSING. (A glance at the rising sun.) Just another minute, John. The sun will be up and it will be safe — LUCY. "You still want me, Johnny, I know it ... (Seward brings Lucy's hand_mirror from his pocket. He holds it in front of him — trying to show Lucy her own face.) SEWARD. "Tis not your beauty that is gone. "Tis your soul. (The mirror catches the first rays of sunlight and reflects it directly into Lucy's eyes. She screams, trying to shield her eyes.) LUCY. Noooo — SEWARD. Your soul is what I loved! Where has it gone?! Answer me! LUCY. No, Johnny, no more — fn My love is become hate, and my desire — loath- LUCY, NOOOOOO0OO00 — ee I COULD KILL YOU MYSELF — (Van Helsing and ‘old Seward back, as — the sunlight forces Lucy to retreat/ Slump into the tomb, out of sight VAN HELSING. HARKER. Q (NOUGH, JACK, ENOUGH. STEADY, NOW ie exhausted, crying — collapses to the ground behind the a Cee eetVAN HELSING. Keep faith, now. It’s almost over. Soon you will sce her as she was. (To Harker.) The tools, Mr. Harker, (Music. Harker removes a large wooden stake from the bag. He hands it to Van Helsing. Then, he lifts a large hammer from the bag.) If 1 could spare you any of it, my friend, I surely would. SEWARD. (Not looking up.) Let's be done with it. (From a flat case which he carries in his breast pocket, Van Helsing produces the “host” — a white, holy communion wafer. He breaks it in two.) VAN HELSING. The “host” — the holy bread shall sanctify her eternal bed. She will take her rest with the angels. (He drops the pieces of the host down into the tomb, producing a quick burning/sizaling sound, He now readies the stake above her [unseen] heart. He looks at Harker, who holds the hammer.) I shall place the point over her heart, and speak the holy words as you strike. (As Harker steps forward, Seward says:) SEWARD. No. VAN HELSING. John, we must — (Seward stands, reaches out his hand, asking for the hammer.) SEWARD. It was my hand that loved her best. And my hand that will deliver her. (Seward takes the hammer from Harker. Van Helsing nods, then readies the stake. Harker lifts the Bible, and holds it, prominently. Music begins, as — Van Helsing speaks into the tomb.) VAN HELSING. We come in peace, for the sake of our dear friend, Miss Lucy. May the Light of Heaven drive this wretched darkness from her soul. (Seward lifts the hammer.) In the name of the Father — (A swelling crash of music — powerful and sacred — as — Seward drives the stake, and — Lucy screams, hideously, her hand thrusting up out of the tomb toward the sky.) And of the Son — (Another crash of music, as — Seward drives the stake a second time, as — Lucy screams, her hand now back inside the tomb Lunseen].) And of the holy ghost. (A final crash of music, as — Seward drives the stake a final time, and — Lucy cries out — then .. quiet. In the distance, a bell tolls mournfully, beautifully. The sun has now fully risen. A long silence, as the men catch their breath, gather their strength. There is blood on Van Helsing’s hands.) Look, now. Look on her face. (They do. Seward wipes a tear from his oe.) 62yr 7 ER. She is changed back. VAN HELSING. No longer the Devil's concubine. She is the Lucy we loved, her sweetness and purity restored. (To Seward.) John. If you will ... kiss her, now, as she asked. And let this kiss send her to heaven. (Seward looks at Van Helsing, then leans down into the tomb slowly ... and hisses [the unseen] Lucy. In the distance, the bell tolls a final time. When this is done, Van Helsing puts his arm around Seward, comforting him. Harker has moved away, still holding the bible.) Mr. Harker and I will finish up here. Her mouth must be filled with garlic, then her head sev- ered. One step of our work will then be done. What remains is the greater task: to locate the author of these, our sorrows, and rid him from the world. HARKER. Professor. VAN HELSING. Yes? HARKER. As Miss Lucy screamed, the final time, I felt the Bible grow warm in my hands. VAN HELSING. It is the power of the Lord. HARKER. But this, further ... (He holds the Bible out to Van Helsing.) A word has been burned into the cover. (Van Helsing and Seward look.) VAN HELSING. “Carfax.” (Van Helsing looks up at Harker.) HARKER. The Count's destination. An estate here in London. VAN HELSING. You're certain? HARKER. Yes, I am. VAN HELSING. Miss Lucy’s final gift to us! (He turns to Seward who looks distraught.) John, do you know of this estate? (Seward says nothing.) John, what is it? SEWARD. (With a look at Harker.) Had we known, we might have saved Lucy. soy HELSING. I don't understand — / TA ARD. Carfax. It adjoins the asylum. He has been, all this "ime, in our midst! Of AER: Mina — (Crack of thunder/music, as — Harker rushes as pind @ shaft of light discovers — the cell. Renfield — shackled, Spe = standing, eyes closed, head looking to the heavens, in Pplication. Suddenly, Renfield’s eyes pop open. He breathes heavily. “Mead snaps doum and looks at his lower abdomen, fervently. A 63 Cece eetpitched sound is heard. Renfield begins to forcefully press strange, high "ritually, rhythmically — with his hands, say. his lower abdomen ing:) RENFIELD. _Bird-blood ... feather-blood ... spider-blood fy-blood — (He coughs, then stil rhythmically his hands move to low his ribs — continuing to press, forcefully.) Bird-blood ... feather-blood ... spider-blood ... fly-blood — (He coughs again — and now, his hands move to his throat, still pressing — his voice growing more hoarse, more choked.) Bird — (Cough.) — feather — ( .) — (He bends at the waist, doubling over, his hands still Bird — (Cough.) — BIRD — (And now, a huge — his face unseen to us — strange, high-pitched sound builds, Renfield stands up straight, holding something in the air, ‘a large wishbone [bigger than we think he could ing with saliva. He holds it up, fo- cused on it feverishly.) The mad are mad so long as they are chained. But, loosed and afoot, are they the rampant, wretched SANE. (He grabs either side of the wishbone, eerily saying:) Make a (He snaps the wishbone, which is accompanied by — the sound ing in two and — another loud crack of thun- rmiliar “yes yes good very good [etc.]” wr der the following actions: he quickly puts ‘half the wishbone in his mouth, and — with the other half, he picks the his chains. He rushes to the door of the cell. He tosses the first half of the wish- bone away — takes the other half from his mouth and — uses tt (0 unlock the door of the cell. He flings the door open, showting:) TER! (He rushes from the cell, disappearing into the night, as lights | Mina sits, fully shift to — the guest room. Day. The drapes are clothed, on the bed — reading a newspaper. Her face is moe than tofore. Her hair everso slightly mussed. She wear» small, scarf around her neck. Harker rushes im, overlapping Renfield’s line) HARKER. Mina! MINA. Jonathan, what is it? HARKER. You're safe? is MINA. (With a laugh.) You assured me J would al takin staring at her, breathing hard.) Why? (He kneels by the Dee her hand, Mina looks at him, curious.) Jonathan — cere on his throat.) and — triumphantly. It is — have possibly swallowed], glisteni wish! of a huge tree snappi der. Renfield mutters his fai 64I want us to be married. nd we shall be. In two months. The plans are made. HARKER. (With a sudden urgency.) Now. I want us to be mar- Hey now. 1 want us to partake of the holy bread and join our fouls as man and wife. MINA. (With a curious smile.) But, my love, why now? MARKER. Should any harm befall us — either of us — MINA. Jonathan, I'm here. We're safe. (He sees something on the floor in the room.) What is it? RR. The rosary. (She reaches for her neck, [truly] expect be there, Harker lifts it from the floor and brings it to her.) It must have fallen this morning, as I dressed. (He ‘ad her neck, once more.) There. You see. All is well. in her eyes as lights shift quickly to — a silhouette om light on — Van Helsing, speaking to rose. Next to him is HARKER. MINA. A ing it to MINA. puts it arow (Harker look: ‘Ming, as well as a shaft of the audience. He holds in his hand a wild, red his valise.) VAN HELSING. As the days passed, I alone began to st pect the change in her. The skin growing more pale. The dis- tant, listless gaze. In our efforts to protect Miss Mina, we had — too literally, I'm afraid — kept her in the dark. The deeper part of this secret is that she, herself, seemed unaware. A stranger to her own transformation. (Lights expand now to re veal — the guest room. Night. The drapes are open — the moon looms, huge. Mina stands, looking over some papers. She is clearly pale. Van Helsing steps into the scene, Also present are Harker and Seward.) shall waste no time in mak- ove my station, let the gy. This darkness, this ‘d, We must work to- be stronger as 2 MINA. Thank you for coming. I ing my point. And, if you feel I talk ab magnitude of circumstance be my apolo} silence between us must come to an en Rether with absolute trust, and, in that way, Broup than we are alone. I have, these three nights, slept fit fully. I've heard noises in the dark, been plagued by disturb- 1g dreams. You have been vm search of the Count. SO» 10%, fear, have I. (The men look at one another. ‘She removes her scarf her neck.) R. Softly.) My god «.- 65MINA. I have no memory of it, But the marks are clear. Now, you must tell me: is this how Lucy died? Through some maladventure involving the Count? Keep this from me no longer. (Harker and Seward look at Van Helsing.) Professor? (Music, un. der. Van Helsing looks at them all. He walks to the window and closes the drapes. Then, he stands before them in the room — still holding the wild rose in his hand.) VAN HELSING. There are such things as vampires. They are known everywhere that men have ever been. The Nosferatu | have the strength of twenty men, and the ancient ones — like our Count Dracula — come armed with the cunning of the ages. He can transform himself into wolf or bat, mist or fog — any form of nature which suits him. He throws no shadow, can be seen in no mirror, and for sustenance, one thing only: the blood of the living. And when his special pabulum is plenty — he grows younger, his faculties stronger, his ghastly powers more vital by the hour — MINA. (Holding her neck.) And to those bitten, his hunger brings death? VAN HELSING. Death of goodness, yes. But, life eternal amid the damned. Those bitten — repeatedly, as I pray to our Lord you have not been — become the very thing which af flicted them: the disciples of the night. (Mina grabs at Harker, who holds her tightly.) HARKER. But how could this change befall Mina? She is pure of heart, she is — VAN HELSING. So, too, I'm afraid, was the Count. I have studied him for many years. In life, he was a man of the ut most virtue. (Looking at Mina.) The terror of it is, my friend, | that this evil grows richest in a soul most pure. (Music is gone Harker speaks, forcefully, bitterly.) HARKER. You assured me she was safe here, Professor. You gave me your word. VAN HELSING. His power, to this point, has beste knowledge, but we shall — HARKER. Waste no more of our time! I beg you, tell us di- rectly: is there no way to defeat this monster? VAN HELSING. Oh, there is a way, Mr. Harker. Dracula 4? d our 66 TT wee@@th