DRACULA

BY
STEVEN DIETZ
FROM THE NOVEL BY

BRAM STOKER

DRAMATISTS
PLAY SERVIGE
INC.
 CHARACTERS
(5 men, 2 women) MUSH

MINA — a woman in her early Twenties Two things. The ability to get under our skin, almost
HARKER — her fiancé, a solicitor subliminally, from time to time. And, of course, the ability to
boombard us with terror, when needed. (The author highly
LUCY — Mina's friend ”
recommends Roberta Carlson's original score, composed for
SEWARD — Lucy's suitor, head of a lunatic asylum
the premiere production of this play at the Arizona Theatre
RENFIELD — a madman
Company, March 1995. For information on Ms. Carlson's music,
VAN HELSING — a professor
please contact her at 214 Oak Grove, Minneapolis, MN 55403.
DRACULA — a Count from Transylvania
Tele- phone: 612-874-0395.)
Additional Actors (2 women, I man), who play:
WAITERS
ATTENDANTS
MAID
VIXENS This play was written to be produced in a variety of theaters
— large and small; lavishly equipped or typically impoverished.

Blood should be plentiful.

TIME and PLACE A good sound system is necessary.

1897.
London, England. And Transylvania.
SETTING
The play moves quickly amid numerous environments, the
primary 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.
Beyond that, nearly ALL the effects called for in the text can
be either simplified or, in some instances, deleted. Some alternate
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 — tale 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 paramount.
 ACT ONE

Music from the darkness. Lights rise on —

A small table, far downstage, in front of the curtain. The

Don’t believe for a moment that he is killing the young.
He zi costuming angels.
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 11is mother. A young man who, like all young
inner, 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.
 As a critic. (be snaps his fingers — the Waiter enters, carrying
a covered silver flatter. she places it in front of Renfield, but does not
uncover it. Then, the Waiter exits.) In 1897, at age fifty, Bram
Stoker published a book that would, in time; become his
definitive work. In doing so, he made me. And he gave to me a
name: Renfield. And, he gave me something more. Something
that so many of you wish for, pray for, beg for — and, yet,
will never attain. Immortality y. (He smiles a bit. Sips his wine.
His expression changes.) I have never forgiven him that. (Renfield
lift the cover of platter flatter, revealing — A large, down rat . still
alive. Music. Sound of manic laughter and screaming. Renfield lifts
the squirming rat by the tail and dangles if 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
I) chair, he is also yanked out of his tuxedo, revealing his grey/green
asylum clothing. 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 bead 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 bell, listening to Mina.
Sound of a clock ticking.)
MINA. And that way, after we are married, I'll be able to
serve as Jonathan’s stenographer —
LUCY. Mm hmm.
MINA. I will write down his thoughts in shorthand —
LUCY. Mm hmm.
MINA. Then, later, transcribe them onto a typewriter — and
therefore be of great help to him in his work as a solicitor.
LUCY. How fascinating. (Lucy gradually stands on the bed,
be- hind Mina. Mina does not notice, referring still to her
notebook.) MINA. He is keeping a journal of his business trip
abroad — LUCY. A journal? Really? (Lucy has pulled a sheet up
from the bed and is n earing it as a cape. Mina remains unaware.)
MINA. Yes, in shorthand. And, when he returns I shall put
my new training to work:.
LUCY. I see. (Lucy stands behind Mina, looking down at her
threateningly.)
10
MINA. I've been practicing very hard. Shorthand is a more
difficult art than many people realize. It requires a — (Lucy
whips her “cape” over Mina, and pounces on her.)
LUCY Be mine be mine forever! (Mina screams, then they both
begin laughing and giggling as thy roll around on the bed. Lucy is
tickling Mina.)
MINA. Lucy, stop it —
LUCY. I won’t stop till you put an end to all this talk of
shorthand and journals and business —
MINA. I haven't seen you in months. I thought you'd —
LUCY. So don't talk to me of numbers and letters. Tell me
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 shameful —
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’re become e a practical young
woman, about to many a man who leaves you cold.
MINA. No. Not cold. (Smiles a bit.) Not cold at all. (Lucy
moves in closer to her.) Sometimes I think of his touch and my
hands tremble. My lips become wet. I can feel my heart
beating 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 rise 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. I 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
fortunate that my work allows me exotic trips to strange and
same, turns to Lucy)
distant countries. And the food! Tonight, I had an eggplant
MINA. What gentleman?
stuffed with forcemeat which they call “impletata.” (Smiles.) Be-
MAID. Mister Seward, the doctor.
love you ask, the answer is “Yes” — I did get a copy of the
MINA. A doctor! Lucy. . .!
recipe for you. After dinner, a strange old woman — reeking
MAID. What should I tell him?
of garlic — took me aside and told me that tomorrow is S t.
LUCY. Tell him to come back tomorrow. I am indisposed.
George's Day, and I should not travel to visit the Count. She
MAID. Very well.
began wailing that at midnight the dead spirits will rise and
MINA. (To Lucy.) Why didn't you tell me?!
evil will hold sway over the world. Such amusing pagans these
LUCY. And do open the window on your way out. How many
people are! She went so far as to press her rosary into my times must I ask you? (The maid nods, apologetically, and then
hands — (He holds up the rosary, with a large crucifix attached.) opens flue windows — faint sound of crashing caves, as the Maid
— which I've kept as a souvenir of the delightful earnestness leaves. Mina l o o k s at Lucy, who gazes out the windows)
of these simple, misguided souls. Oh, my sweet Mina, how my MINA. No secrets, Lucy. That’s what we've always said to one
heart rejoices at the thought of you. I’ll be home safely and
Another, since we were children. There must be a bond of
soon. Your loving husband-to-be Jonathan . (Llights out on trust between us. (Lucy t u r n s to her) Tell me.
Harker; as — Lucy o v e r l a p s his last word, throwing herself at LUCY. Oh, Mina, can't you guess? I am in love! (I needn't
Mina,
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
LUCY. Jonathan! (They wrestle about on the bed, laughing. Lucy
proverbs.
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. The proverbs?
LUCY. It never rains but it pours. Mina, I am not indisposed
MINA. (Laughing.) Lucy, you're mad —
LUCY. Oh, but oh so much more of me! You fill me up . I am undecided.
with solicitous longings! MINA. Whether to marry him or not?
MINA (Playing along) Not till we're married, I've told you! LUCY. No. Which one of them to marry.
(Mina push Lucy from the bed. Lucy rushes to the window and MINA. There‘ is more than one?
playfully “clothes ” herself in Hut long black drapes.) LUCY. Three! Three suitors. Kyle, who all these years never
LUCY. Married in the eyes of whom? had even one! Two of them have already proposed —
MINA. It’s the eyes of the moon —! MINA. Who? (Lucy shows Mina small, framed photos of each of
LUCY. — Which is rich and full of permission, now what the men.)
do you say? LUCY. Mr. Holmwood, the judge; and Mr. Morris, the Texan.
MINA. (A quick pause a naughty look.) Come and let me have MINA. Does he have horses?
the all of you! LUCY. Horses are the least of what he has.
LUCY. Mina! ( L u c y rushes to her. They throw the sheet over MINA. Lucy —!
them and wrestles on the bed as — a Maid enters.) LUCY. And now, Dr. Seward — only twcnty-nine and
MAID Miss Lucy. already in control of an immense lunatic asylum. He is versed
LUCY. (Still under the sheet.) Go away, I’m dead! in the arts of dream interpretation and h y p n o s i s Oh, I can
MAID. Miss Lucy, that gentleman is here again. (All motion fancy what a wonderful power he must have over his patients.
under the sheet stops. Lucy pokes her head up Then Mina does the MINA. Lucy, what will you do?

12
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
utterly miserable . . . (She hreaks 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
together-. (A shaft of light on Harker. His coat is off, his sleeves
are rolled up. He holds some papers. He sips f r o m 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
cordial, 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
enters 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.
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 more to her neck, continuing to chek
her. Then, he steps back. Her yes remain closed.) Well?
SEWARD. There is but one thing out of the ordinary.
LUCK. And what is that?
SEWARD. Your in comparable beauty . (She opens her yes. .She
stars at him, spechless.) You are not ill, Lucy. It is I who carry an
illness. It eats away at me day and night, and its only remedy
resides in the very heart which afflicts me. Your heart. (Pause.)
Play I speak? (Thrilled, stunned, she nods . then. sit. .) 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
m e and be cherished above all women. Bid me stay, and
be, to your final days, adored. (She begins Io cry, softly. He
watches for a 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 vultures 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 I must accept it. But, tell me: dare I hope? Could
you learn to love me, in time? (She cries again, ref softly.)
There is someone already. Your heart, making way for your
hand, is previously betrothed. Am I right, dear Lucy? (She looks
up at h i m . She is, perhaps, about to answer us — Seward nods.) I
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 clarity.) Hear me now: from this moment on, your
happiness
l5
is my fondest wish. If your heart was free, a man might have
here But, in place of hope, I give you something far stronger
and eminently wiser: I give you my friendship. And, whatever
you need of it sly all 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 mid hands it to his. She looks in his e yes. She leans forward
and kisses him, up gently , on the lips. He closes his eyes. She looks
at him. He opens his e yes, speaks softly.) That kiss, sweet Lucy, that
will be something to keep off the darkness. (He steps
back and looks at her . . . then leaves, taking her: mirror with his.
Lucy cries and rushed 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
lie revenged: at the hand of one's work. (He screams with a
maniac intensities.) RENFIELD! (He rushes across the stage and
arrives at — Renfield cell. The asylum. Renfield is busily malting
notations in a crude notebook, as he quickly counts the numerous tiny
[unseen] life form on his cell he is always chained at the ankle unless
otherwise noted. A sparrow flies around inside a crude birdcage..
Two Attenders are nerby. One reads a newspaper. One is aslep.)
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. (In-
censed, Seward throw 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
Ieave, as — Seward a broaches Renfield, who does not look up)
RENFIELD. You've been crying.
SEWARD. What?
RENFIELD. Mind your step. There is life there.
SEWARD. The spiders have nearly doubled.
RENFIELD. I lure them, I house them, the woi‘1d 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 hands
against Steward’s chest.)
SEWARD. For god's sake — (Rcnfield pulls his p a l m away
out peels a large, dead fiy f rom Seward ’s shirt. Holds it up.)
RENFIELD. And life tastes good, doesn’t it Johnny? (Renfield
eats the fly . Sew‹ard matches, 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. (Quick back to his notebook) Yes yes
good yes good yes very yood yes yes yes ... (Seward watches him
for a moment, then steps toward hint.)
SEWARD. But, why, Renfield? Why the eating of flies and
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
absorb it throgh 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 difficult
and vital aspect — the BRAIN? For if I held the key to JUST
ONE LUNATIC, I might advance my own branch of
17
science to such lofty esteem that Burdon-Sanderson’s
that I dare not think of . . (The storm hrealis uit'de ojtien, fJ/ny
physiology would be as NOTINGH —
the theatre -u›i!h souncl ancl fury, as lights shift to — Lu ’s he,d›-ooiii.
RENFIELD. And Miss Lucy would give her hand.
Night. A full moon out the uiindow. Lightning illuminating the. dai‘li
SEWARD. SHUT UP!
W00m Ot TDRdOiTt internals. Lu ef and Mina asleep in t.tie bell, as tlte
RENFIELD. (Sweetly.) May I have a kitten?
stone rages. A niolf howls, in the distance. Suddenly, Lu .ry sites. She.
SEWARD. What?!
SitS tfp. ShF lies fr0m the bed, sleepwalb ing, as £1 movps ¿otpottl ¿/tp
RENFlELD. A kitten, please please. A nice little playful kitten, n ion:low. She throats Guide the draJ›es. She touches the iiiindoiy v ›
that I can ... play with, arid ... teach, and .. . feed and feed lightly niith her fingers, as though c messing it. Alter . . . .she )›i‘e..smrs
and feed. No one would refuse me a kitten, would they?
her entire body flush ncainst thr. uiindoui. She umiihes with ylP.azurr.,
SEWARD. How is it you know her name? (Renfield quickly as though in I/ir grasJ› of the window itself. A ture/tfb cmr.h of thun-
turns away, grabs the bird cage and begins singing a tiny little song
der — Mina walies. Sees the emu fi bed. Sees Lux Q tltp. win,r1oiu.)
to the sparrow.)
MINA. Lucy, come to bed. (No reaction.) Lucy, it's just a
RENFIELD.
dream. You're sleepwalking again. Come ba-ck to bed. (Still no
Bird-blood feather-blood spider-blood fly-blood,
reacti‘on. Mina, stands, fiuttitzg on a robe. She lifts Lu ’s ache Quont
Bird-blood feather-blood spider-blood fly-blood .
the bed and curries if toniard Lucy.) The storm has frigh tenerl you.
SEWARD. Tell me! (Seward grabs Renfield the shoulder and You're having another dream. Come morning, it will all be
turns him. This is the first time we have seen him touch Renfield.
gone. Mine walhs to Luaf and gently flulLs lie e feui steps niuay
Renfield wheels around, viciously, fire in his eyes, his jaw clenched,
fTOm the wisdom. Lu cy continues to looli or/. Mina winces the i‘ol›e
ready to fight, as — Seward takes a step back) Miss Lucy. How
around her slioultlWs, as — the howl of a wolf joins the sort nd o[
do you know her name?
the storm. Lu cf suddenly Harems off the robe and rushes bcic•'‹ to f/te
RENFIELD. My Master.
window again.) Lucy, what is it? What's there? (Lux Jiiin)›s onto
SEWARD. What?
the window sill, as Mina tries to pull her melt /o bed.)
RENFIELD. My Master told me. (Crash of thunder and rush of
LUCY. The waves are wild! The ship is tossed about!
music as lights shift to — A silhouette of Dracula, far U., his arms
MINA. Lucy, you're scaring me. Come down from theTe —
extended, his cape opened, bat-like. From the silhouette, a ¡Noir of red
LUCY. But fear not, the ship will find its port. The ship will
efes [perhaps] glon ing in the darkness. We do not see his face. A
best the storm!
great burst of smohe — another crciñ of thunder/music, anct — itt
MINA. There are no ships, Lucy. None would be out or a
on instant, the silhouette is gone. In its place is — Harker, in a
night like this —
shaft of ligltt, looliing terrified and ltaggard, his clothes rum]›led. I-ie
LUGY. There it is! Riding the waves! Pounding about on the
wears the rosary around his necli. Me speahs iuith urgen from the
blood of the earth! (Lights shift quicltly to — Menfield !i cell.
é if/oming smolie and forbidding darkness. Sound of bats shirking,
Renfleld, i/izr//ess, ii alternately leaping about in a fernor — ‹incl
doors s/atntnirig s/but.,1 quiciily cleaning himself in the exact manner of a cat. Seirord ruehe.s
HARKER. Sweet Mina! I am all in a sea of wonders. I thinly on, furious, and encounters a frantic Attendant. The Attendant holds
strange things which I dare not confess to mine own soul! a straitjachet. F/ie storm continues. Mina and Luaf return lil, i›i
There is something of a nigh tmare about this place and I fear tableau.)
my superstitions may run rio t wi thin me. And the Coun t, my
RENFIELD. IT IS HE! HE HAS COME FOR ME! THk
host: what manner of man is this*! I feel the dread of his pres-
MASTER HAS GOME!
ence overwhelming me. I am encompassed about with terrors
SEWARD. What on earth is he —

18 I9
ATTENDANT. The storm, I think, it set him off somehow —
SEWARD. Renfielcl! What is it?
out, a titanic cacofiltony of somvd: the storm, the tuo/re3, t/tfi hofsy
lUiNFIELD. MY MASTER GROWS NEAR!
S"LWARD. Who are you talking about? the high-f›itched screecliiiig.)
RENFIELD. (With an odd, lucid calm.) The bride-maidens re- HARIJR. ivIINA. SEWARD.
joice the coming of the bride; but when the bride draweth And now I kno\V, Lucy, no! Renfield, let him
nigh, the maidens shine not. Min a! N ow I
8 '
ATTENDANT. I think he’s had a reckoning. I think he's kn ow what th e Lucv.
found God! digging was for! I want to see the RENFIELD.
SEWARD. I pray not. Homicidal mania anal religious fervor And now I knoiv Ship! He sla ould have
would be a dangerous combination. (Mouing in closer, seeing what I must do: I been nice to me!
Menfield cle‹ining himself.) Renfield, what are you doing? must rid tllC MINA. N ow, li e ’ s my
RENFIELD. I must be clean for my Master. wori d of suc h No — take my pe t. I’11 call him
SEWARD. Your flies are gone. And the spiders are gone, mons ters! Th ey hand — it's not Tabby.
also. (No t‘eacfioii.) Look at me. Where have they gone? And are the devils of f € •!
what of your sparrow? Where is it? (Renfield reaches into Itis the Pit! I shall es- SEWARD.
mouth and coughs, roducing — A sfiarroui feather, w/iicfi flutters cape, Mina — LUCY. You'11 be punished,
to the ground.) My god. (He turns to the Attendant.) BIND HIM! away fr om tlliS Look, he's come I promise you!
NO\V! (Flash of lightning/liuge thunder crack, as a shaft of light cursed land! And for me!
reveals — Haulier. Qtr clothes looli like rags — torn and filthy. He i( I fail, goodbye, wNFIELD.
s|›ealm wildl , sodden gif/i Memeotin and fear. Sound of a high-f›itclied swee t Mina! MINA. My Master will pro-
Goodbye my one Lu cy, stop it — tect me! Listen to
HARIJR. The digging! All day and night the digging, the true Iove! Re- you ’re dream- the wind — listen
constant digging! Oh, my far-away, Mina — if only I knew what member me and ing! to it howl! HE IS
i t all mean t! Great wooden boxes have been hauled away — keep me in your N rAR, say the
and for what reason? I fear I am the only living soul within prayers! LUCY. waves! THE MAS-
this place, and everywhere I turn: doors, doors, doors cvery-
I'M HERE! I’M TER! THE MAS-
ivhei-c — all locI‹ed and bolted! I am a prisoner! (A blinding GOODBYE! HERE! TER IS AT HAND!
fiasli of lightning/seoere c:iach of thunder in/tic/i suddenly meals all
tli1‘ee areas at once: Harker — still struggling to sjieak, as we see (As tlte tnusic and stortn crescendo — Harher /tai heen overcome Q
something slitheriR OTOHTtd ROOT /tis legs. It is, in fact, the Two Vix- the slithering Vixens. Lucf has hurled Mina knelt onto the hed. Lux
ens — two moment with deathly sale skin, wild hair, clnd in t0hite, leans out the u indoui, silhouetted against the enormous full moon.
flou ing, diafhanous sags. We do not, however, see I/teir faces. Dur- Seward rushes attiay from Renfield, uilio the dead A ttendant.
ing I/ie folloniing’, //t rfimé , mine-like, ufl ffar/ter’s fcgi — wro§Qing They, suddenly, ices Init a small shaft, D. Music
Iheir liml›s about him. Lu cy and Mina — Lu throws the uiindoui and storm snaJi out. All is silent. There, in the dim lit/tt ii . .. o
open anal leans out into the storm, as Mina tries to hold onto her, largc mooden tox, CO u-sized. de Stare at lhe hox i.n silencH for a
/o save her. Seward and eld — as the Attendanl. tries to hind long ui/tim. Then . it shahes a bit, )ust
Rrnfield, Eenfield uses the strailjachet to s e man s neck, /iiff- the tiniest bit. just a hint of something within. A {ause. A bit
oren. then, the shabing
20 21
 stops. Another sitence. When . . Hourly . . . creakily ... the ld to the.
DRACULA. Ffe was a righ teous man. Is this, you suppose,
o b o en. As it does, lights snap out. Music from the dark- what happens to i-igh teous men?
ness, then lights usr, rmealtTIg — D slitp ’s wheel, meatltered, stand- SEWARD. And this fact the strangest: he lashed himself to
ing alone, attached only to a feui battered planks of the ship. And, the wheel with his own rosary.
tied Q iLs hands to the uiheel with a string of Tosay beads . . , a full DRACULA. (As he takes a small step baciimard.) Yes.
human skeleton. Hideous, and iti// wet; mud and seaweed oinid the
SEWARD. We'll never know, will we?
bones. A man, lits back to us, stands looming af the skeleton,- shak-
DRACULA. That depends, I suppose.
ing his head rif/t sadness. [This is Dracula — dressed tl as
SEWARD. How do you mean?
Harher.] We do not clearly sDeiea e. Seniard, wearing a
DRACULA. On what you're hoping to 1‹now. (Tips his lent.)
warm coat, enters. It is nearly dawn.)
Good day. (Dracula goes, as, behind him, the sun begins to rise.
SEWARD. It's just as they said.
Seward watches him leaue, as lights shift to — Lu ‹J’s bedroom. Morn-
DRACULA. Yes.
I, SEWARD. What could have — (Stops.) No. It's too horrible
to think of. Did any of the crew survive?
ing. Lu cy lies in the bed, a cloth across her forehead her face
ale. Mina sits on the bed next to her, holding her hand.)

i DRACULA. Only a dog, they say.

LUCY. And then?
MINA. I've told you enough.
i SEWARD. A dog?
DRACULA. A large grey dog which leapt from the ship. Or,
LUCY.
MIblA.
No, Mina. I must know.
Then ... I found you on the cliff, lying amid the
so they say. rocks. It's a wonder you didn’t fall. I wrapped you in a blan-
SEWARD. A wonder it even made it to port in a storm lilte ket and brought you home.
that. LUCY. Mina —
DRACULA. A miracle. MINA. You're fine, now. And safe. I've sent for Dr. Sewarci.
SEWARD. Pardon my manners, I don’ t believe I know you. LUCY. Mina, listen to me. You must, as my dearest friend,
J hn Seward. promise me this: that you'll tell no one of these odd events.
DRACULA. (Pause, he turns to Seniard.) You head the asylum, Even my family. Promise me.
do you not? MINA. (After a cause, touching Lucf’s face.) I promise. (Lu
SEWARD. Yes, I do. And you are? smiles o hit, holds lMina’s hand.)
DRACULA. Harker. Jonathan Harker. (Thy shake hands. LUCY. And what of you? What is the news from Jonathan?
Semard tahes note of the coldness of Dracula ’s hand.) MINA. There is no news. A fortnight and still no word from
SEWARD. Well, Mr. Harker. A true pleasure. I've heard of him. (The Maid escorts Bernard into the room. He carries a leather
you from Miss Lucy Westen ra. You're engaged, I believe, to doctor's bag.)
her friend Mina. MAID. Dr. Seward, ma'am.
DRACULA. Yes. And you to Miss Lucy? (Pause, Seward stares SEWARD. Good morning, ladies. You must be Mina. (Piso
ni his.) I'm ,told she's very beautiful. (Silence.) rises and moves to him, an ay from Lu ‹J.)
SEWARD. How odd to meet you here. MINA. Thank you for coming. Lucy commends your sit lI as
DRACULA. (Vâth an odd cliff.j Where would you have us a doctor.
meet? SEWARD. More minds have I treated than bodies, but I'll
SEWARD. (A pause.) Well. Yes. You're right. Good to, though, do what I can. How is she?
finally. (Dracula gently touches tlte cheek of the skeleton.) MINA. Weak. And very pale. Please — (Mina gestures to the

22 23
bed. Seward moves close to Lu y.)
glass container from liii bag. A small jar of ointment, as well. Lu
SEWARD. Hello, Lucy.
looM to Mina, who sits on the bed to comJort her.)
LUCY. Hello, again. (He checks her J›ulse, yes, heart, etc. dur-
MINA. Do as lie says, now. Don't be frightened.
ing the following.)
SEWARD. Miss Lucy . . .
SEWAJtD. When did this begin?
LUCY. Yes?
LUCY. The storm last nigh t. I slept poorly.
SEWARD. May I have your hand? (Silence. Lui::f smiles a bit,
SEWARD. Bad dreams?
tfien offers her hand !o him. Me takes her hand. He rubs a small bit
LUCY. (The truth.) Yes.
of ointment on her finger. He rig,quic/ify, with the tool.
SEWARD. Can you tell me?
Lu af loolis down at the hlood. He squeezes her Jrtger, gently, until a
I.UCY. It's very vague.
few o s o ood fall into //te glass container.) There we are. If
1\4INA. Try, Lucy.
you’11 wrap that, Mina. (Mina wrays a runoff white cloth around
LUCY. There was a . . . howling. A dog howling —
Luc)•’s finger, as Seward seals uf i/ie dish.)
SEWARD. (Simply.) A dog —
LUCY. john.
LUCY. Or many of them, hundreds or more, as though the
SEAWARD. Yes?
whole town were full of them. And I seemed to be sinking
LUCY. You are my true friend. (Seward vols, saying nothing,
into deep water, green water, and there was a singing in my
o.t — f/ie latd entors.)
ears. And then — (She stops.)
MAID. Miss Mina, a letter has arrived for you. Shall I bring
SEWARD. Go on.
it in?
LUCY. And then . . . something very sweet and very bitter all
, MINA. From where is it posted?
around me at once .. . and I felt everything passing away from
me . . my soul seemed to go out of my body and float about lvlAID. From a hospital, ma’am. In Budarest. (Mina stands,
.’ urgently.)
in the air. And then — (At this moment, Seward has turned her
' lvIINA. I'll be right there.
head and iS fOo/tii3g at something on her nech — nihicli we cannot
LUCY. Mina, I pray the news is —
see. A Lmief, str11 mount, as a cfturcfi bell tolis, heautifully, in
MINA. Ssshh. Save your strength. I'll see you when you wake.
•'lie distance. Lu ef turns her head and looks uj› at L'eward. Setuarcl
(Seuiard and Mina walls away from the bed.) I thank you, Dr.
removes liii hand from her necli. Then, Lu cy looks to Mina.) And
Dewar d.
then Ivlina woke me. And told me I'd been dreaming. (Seuiard
SEWARD. Ileep a watchful eye. And don’ t let her leave this
looiis at Lu for a long time.)
room.
MINI. Dr. Seward, what is it?
MINA. I won't.
SEWARD. (To Luaf.) There is a mark on your neck.
SEWARD. Miss Mina, if I may — (Mina stOJJS, fOOflS Ot him.)
LUCY. A mark?
— you are as remarkable as Lucy described.
SEWARD. A red mark. As though you’d been kissed there.
MINA. As are you, Dr. Seward.
(Pause, noni ffir list of jealousy.) Have you been?
SEWARD. Early today, I had the pleasure of meeting Mr.
LACY. (Touching his face, Underly.) No, J lin.
1-Iarker, your fiancé. He seems a fine man. (She stares at him.)
SEWARD. (Pause, then standing.) I’11 begin with your blood.
What is it?
LUCY. My blood?
MINA. That's impossible. He's out of the country.
SEWARD. I'll assess its qualities. To discover any malady that
SEWARD. Well, perhaps I —
may reside within. (Seward tal‹es ci small, jointed tool, and a small
MINA. (Sliarf 1).) Till just now, I've had no word in weeks.

25
Why would you say such a this$?
SEWARD. Miss 1\4iri a — (She is gone. I-ie loolis off after her, then
loom bach at Lux.)
LUCY. I’m so warm, John. Won ' t you open the window?
(Seward moves to the window, at fights sfiz/t to — an enfrfn›ay.
Evening. A Maid turns in her work, and ii startled to see the man
[Dracula, as I-Washer J we saw earlier. He. wears a cn¡0e note. His back
is to her, and to us. An odd, distant sound — something like the
high-pitched ñ ngiug of glassniare.)
MAIB. Oh! (A goo I laugh noni.) I'm sorry, sir. May I help
you?
DRACULA. Say it.
MAID. I beg your —
DRACULA. (Not iurnittg nrouud.) This is the home of Miss
Lucy, is i t not?
MAID. Aye, it is, but —
DRACULA. (Quietly.) Say it. (Silence. The Maid stares at him,
curious.) You're very beautiful. (Silence. The fail stares at /tim,
more serious now . . .) You lv oiv that. Don't you? (The Maid stares
af him, flattered growing sliy . .) Please. Do what I'm thinking.
(The Maid Stares at him, incoming frightened now . . .) Say it. (She
takes a ‹leefi hreath, iinable to take her yes off Dracula. he nods,
prompting lter.)
MAID. You. May. Entet . (The man turns, rift a flourish —
‹zud wr see Dracula %r the fir.st time. Youthfun and ui6rant, sensual
and charismatic. He stni/rs n beautiful smile.)
DRACULA. Remember me, won't you?
NSAID. (Brent/iissfy.) Oh, yes.
DRACULA. Good. (She gestures “borne in ” . He smiles. He does
not enter. Instead, he turns, /cs/tiug liii cape, attd leaves the may
lie came in. Lights slitft to — a sanitarium. A simple white chair
mt/f sttJce. Haulier sits, wearing a white robe, his head bandaged.
he does nothing Init stare foruiard in a horrific dOZe. MinD rushes
in. SU. carries a small bag. She hegins to hug him, Init sto is, slioclied
fi the sight of him.)
MINA. Jonathan? (No response, sifence.) I tools a boat to Ham-
burg as soon as I heard. And then the train here. ($till no rr-
sfionse, still ntore silence.) They say you've had a terrible shock,
that you're suffering from a violent brain fever. (Still nothing.
Mina In eels, tahes his hand, hegins to cry softly.) Oh, Jonathan,
your eyes. All resolution, all ligh t has gone from them. Please
tell me. What has happened? (Her head is in his /o§ as she cries.
He slonil) lifts flit hand and ilaces it gently on her heDd. feeling
this, she loomsup, talking his hand, hissing it.) They say in a few
day/s 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 terns
and looks at the journal. She begins to open the journal.) — And
I'm not sure whether this is — (He /›st.i /tis hand does on too›
of hers with force, shutting ltte Journal. She looks u ji at him, con-
fus£!d, frightened.)— J tathan?
HARKER. (An urgent, somber voice.) Mina. We have sPoken
of trust be tween a husband and a wife. That there should be
no secrets, no concealment between us. I have been rlriven
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 wñ ich
things were real and which were the insidious dream-s of
madman. The secret is here, in my journal. Take it. I€eer it.
Read it, if you must — but over let me knoni. I do no t wan t 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 benveen us, so 1on(;
as we Evo shall be as one. (She stares at /titn. She removes a blue
ribbon from around her necli. She lies the ribbon around the journal,
binding it closed.)
MINA. (Ver softly.) It's done. Let's go home. (lie talies Ilie
rosary from around liii neck and holds i/ out to her. She stares at
it, cut oils, as it dangles from his finger.s. Muizr, as lights slii,ft ta
— Lu cy ’s bedroom. Nigltt. The moon, of course, is fitll and liith,
floodilig the room uiith /ig/tf. The drapes arr, parted. T/ie uiinclom is
partly open. Lucf is asleep. A clock is chiming m,idnight. Aurl n,own
. the piercing howl of a iuolf, nears. Lu iris. Another howl. Lu cy
sirs up. She huts a robe on over her nightgown. She is sleepmalliing
again. She lea oes the bed and walks — with her arms at lie si,des
— to the wisdom. As she ajlproaclies the window, the huge head of
a Org uiolf rises up into sight, outside the uiindow [or: a ii/ñ oitefte
or projection of a niolf is seen, ujistage.] It howls again. Lucf, head
When you wake, you shall remember only the cry of a wolf,
ifi// dotrri, does not seem to see the wolf. She throws //te window wide
and the crash of the sea. (he loolis down at her use/t, oc/iiugfy.
open. The sound of waves crashing is heard. Lu af talies off her robe
T/ten iu one ravenous motion . . . lie hurls lits head douin onto
and casts il out i/tr window into the sea. As she does this, the wolf's
ltte TUCK — ft@Jtfâ tTtstol3 IIj sROfi out, Os — Lucf screams, and, si-
yes [flerliaJ›s] begin to gloui red. Then, itif/ caStta/fy, still sleefiwalk-
multaneousl), we hear ten field scream front the darl‹ness — as lights
rug . . . Lucf closes tJte irindoui. As she does this, the iolf's head slowly
rise on — Renfield’s cell. He is now chained at the mrisl [as well as
diso$jarnrs. F/ie red eyes varnish. Lu cy tal‹es hold of one site of the
the anlile] to flit malls/hars of hit cell. He screams, wildly, struggling
black drapes — and bulls it closed. She then talies hold of the other
to get free.)
side of the hlack drafiys and {ulls it — l›ttt f 3, tp fp ( D ,2 ttpf ’z
RENFIELD. I AIvI HERE, MASTER! I AM HERE TO DO
. She ii note engulfed in liii anns.)
YOUR BIDDING! NOW THAT YOU ›\RE NEAR, I AWAIT
D IMCULA. Good evening. (Luaf screams, coming instanil
YOUR COMMANDS! (Seuiard run/ter in.j
an aide.) Don’ t be frigh tened.
SEWARD. Renfield, what is it?!
LUCY. MOTHER!
RENFIELD. (Paging Seward no tnind.) AND I PRAY YOU: DO
DIMCULA. Your mother is indisposed. As are tie servants.
NOT PASS ME BY, DEAR MASTER —
LUCY. 1\Nina, HELP ME!
SEWARD. (Overlaf› ing slightly.) Who are you talking to —?!
DRACULA. And Nliss Ivlina, too, is gone. We're alone, sweet
RENFIELD. WHEN YOU DISTRIBUTE YOUR GLORIOUS
Lucy. (He releases her. She backs awa from him, slowly, covering a
TIDINGS, PLEASE, DO NOT PASS ME BY. (In an instant,
shot on her iiecli willi lie hands.) Your frien d, Dr. Seward, has
Fenfield turns lo Seward, cheerfully, as ffioug/i nothing whatsoever liacl
exainincd your blood and found it to be rich and healthy. (He
ltapJ›ened.) You're out late.
liclis his fi/vi.) I share Iris diagnosis. (Music, as — Lux rue/in to
SEWARD. What, yes, listen to me now —
I/tr winclof and throws it open. instantly, Dracula joints to the nun-
RENFIELD. And though she's promised to another, you keep
‹four — and it sla›ii,s .Unit, of its oon accot d. Lu ‹J founds against
watch. You main twin an avid readiness.
SEWARD. I am not —
RENFIELD. But, we can wait, can't we Johnny? Clever men
LUCY. \'V1aat are you? What do you want of me? (He afl-
that we are. We can wait for the riches to fill our cup. (Ari
j›roaclies lter slowly, calmly.)
iiistaii / rage, looking ufi.) DO NOT FORGET ME! (An iTtstanl,
D M\CULA. I want your fear. For your fear, like a current,
lucid calm, bach to Seward.) We are one man, J linny. We host
rushes through your bod} . Your fear- makes your heart pound,
a common longing. You await her deep mysteries, as I await
it renders your veins rich and full. Your fear liemorrhages de-
my Master's gifts.
liciously within you. (He is fearing over /trr. He sfiealis softly, arid
SEWARD. (Going into the cell.) I will SOLVE YOU, Renfield.
crry kindl .) D o what I'm thinking. (Her orfes ti‘ansfixed on liii,
I shall unearth the mad logic of your mind. Now, I demand
she sloml j ulls bach her lori g red hair . .. exposing her ttrcft. 0 er-
to know: WI-IO IS YOUR MASTER?
ziig it Io him. I-ie lou ers /tis month to her necl‹ serf slowly, like n
RENFIELD. We are men at tie mercy of angels. (An Atten-
§8ti6/ tii3. I-I itñs 1 ntl , olI c6 .. . 1lIalIiI1g lWr pod j t6Ttse
Jant run/mi in.)
mit‹f s/izurr. He /i/ts his head aitd loolis in her efes. S/ir looks ii fi nt
ATTENDANT. Dr. Seward —
liion. In the distance, we begin to see liundreds of fats of ›ed eyes,
SEWARD. Not now —
g’/Owii3g tit the darl‹iiess.) It's only a dream, Lucy. You've been
ATTENDANT. It's Miss Lucy, sir. She's — (And before I/ic Al-
slcc pivalkin g again . And dear Mina shall keep your secre t.
ie›idant can join/i, S hard ii out of the room. The Attendant turns

28 29
 and looks at Runfielcl, who smiles and says [or: he mouths tlte words
as we hear Dracula's amplified -uoice say J.) LUCY. (Sitting uj› in the heâ.) An H ) €•t, I ›nus/ have slcr —
RENFIELD. The unexpected always happens. (Lights shift in- because the clock struck twelve and woke me. "flaer< \\'aS a
stantly to ‹i small area D., where — Vrin Helsing stands, ltis back scratching, a flapping of something ar the window. What CO£11C1
that have been?
to us, Tending from a letter. Next to ltim ii a small ualise. He runs
SEWARD. The wind, I suspect. A rustle of trees —
to the auclience as he reads afotid.j
VAN I-tELSING. “You arc my friend and master,- and you VAN HELSING. And the dreams? What do you remember
know more about obscure diseases than anyone in the world. of them?
You are a philosopher and metaphysician and the most ad- LUCY. A wolf. The cry of a wolf. And the sound of the sea.
van ced scientist of your day. Yott have an absolutely open VAN HELSING. Anything else?
mind, an iron nerve, a temrer of ice, an indomitable resolu- LUCY. (The truth.) Only that. (Silence.)
tion, anlt the ldndliest and ti‘uest heart that beats. These things VAN HELSING. Here. Lie back. Rest now. (As Van, Hel.st.nd
provide the equirment for the noble work which you are do- helps he lie bacJi into hed, tier SCay combs loosel^f awe,] frHln ftsr neCL’,
and i an fielding notices some!l"“ng on neck. I-ie titres 10
ing for the good of mankind. I entreat you now, with an all-
embracing humility, to come to the aid of my dear, sweet Seward.) Who has access to this room?
Lucy.” (Stops reading, looks up at the audience.) To be clear: I SEWARD. (Thi hi ng the question odcl.) Only myself, tier
am not a slave to flattery. A man's reputation is the most im- mother, and the maid.
perfect science of all. (Smiles o bit.) I, for one, would love to VAN HELSING. I’11 want to speak to them. Don’ t ask, just
meet the man whom young Dr. Seward describes. (Loohs n/ f/tr yet — but trust me, there may be
/et/er.j No, what swayed me was the blunt accuracy of his post- for everything. (Me talies O $Tttall
fiours a bit of it into a glass, then stirs a small amount of {nu›3er
script. (Reacts.) “P.S. Do remember that I once saved your life.” info il. He turns to Lucf.) Miss Lucy, I'd like you to drink this.
(Ligf‹ts ex)attd, annealing — Lux::f ’s bedroom. Day. Lu cy lies in bed, It's a hit of brandy and a sleeping aid — it will helr u rest.
reelle, ve y weak. She /i hnlf-awake, her lrreatliing is LUGY. I don’ I want to sleep. I’d rather die than ever s1e•r
labored.
Around her neck is a scarf. Seward sits irf her side, holding her limp again. This weakness comes to me in my dreams, and I 3m
hand. Van Melting iuallis into the room, heading directly for Lu cy.) unclean, I feel as if there is no air, no air at all, as if there
SEWARD. It's as though she is fading away. Every day more was —
pale, gasping for air. VAN HELPING. Ssshh. Quiet.
VAN HELSING. Miss Lucy, can you hear me? (Lux opt» Lw LUCY. You must wake me from my dreams!
yes.) I am Abraham Van Helsing. I have come from Amster- VAN HELSING. Quiet, now. We shall keep you safe. Now,
I\ dam at Dr. Seward's request. I must ask you a c uestion or two. drink this and rest. (Lu looks at him, then clrinM frotn the glass
Would that be all right? (Lux nods. Good. Now, have you had and lies hack in the bed.)
a fall, lately? Or a frigh t of some kind, anything out of the SEWARD. I'll be here, Lucy. I shan’ t leave you. (the closes
ordinary? her yes, as — Van Helping usher5 Sftford Dway fTom the bed, ur-
LUCY. Only the dreams. gently.) What is it?
VAN HELSING. Tell me. VAN HELSING. She wants blood, my friend. And blood she
LU CY. Oh, 1 ti-ied not to sleep. I tried so hard not to fall must have or she will die. Roll up your sleeve. There is no
asleep — time to waste. (Var Helsing begins tobtng the new:essaty e moment
SEWARD. Why, Lucy? out of his nafiir.)

30
 SEWARD.
(Looliing at the equip nl.) I've never seen such in- SEWAED. She's resting now. Professor Van Helsing has com-
struments.
rleted a transfusion of blood. (Minn turns to Var be/ring.) Pro-
VAN HELSING. The ghastly paraphernalia of our
beneficial fessor: Lucy's clear friend, bliss Mina Murray.
Cloth doused in a/co/to/.) ’Swab your arm wi th MINI. hello.
tllis. (Seward does as ibid, as Van
IJ0l$iRg does the same to Lux ’s VAN HELSING. An honor. We've done all we can at present.

sice into Iheir arms, Helsi'ng inserts ltte transfusion de- NIIh'A. But what of die cause?
VAN HELSING. A mystery in want of pursuit.
small fiulnp K/ii6/t the transfer of blood. SEWARD. You've just returned from Budapest?
hegins
[If {ossi ble, we see the tobe go from clear to hlood-red.]) IvtINA. Yes.
SEWARD. She fears her dreams, but dreaming alone can- SEWARD. And I\1r. I-Iarker, how is he?
not render such havoc. I remember
nothing from my studies MINA. I-Ie is restored, God be than ked. 1-Its good liumor has
that ever spoke of such a — returned. 1-tis terrors have abated. Coming home, it seems, has
VAN HELSING. Remember, friend, that knowledge is stron- proved the most soothing medicine. (Harker rulers.) Ah, here
ger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker. (Lift he is. Jonathan, this is Dr. Sewarcl and Professor Van Helsing.
your arm a degree. Good.) The case of
our dear miss is one They've been looking after — (As I/ir)' ite/ tomarcl Harl‹cr to greet
that may be — mind, I say ma.y é e — of
such interest that we /ttai, /-far/‹w sudden1 turns and eat/is D., atuoy /rotn tfieiii — as
may generate new and ital knowlcdgc of eerie y‘een light begins to i/time on Haulier's face. He sfleahs init/i an
regarding the canon
catastroplle. Take then good note of it. Nothing is too odd, detaclied terror — as Iliongli lie mei‘e about to go inad.)
small. I counsel you, put down in record even your doubts and Jonathan, what is it?
surmises. I-lARl R. It is the man himself. (S‹:ward and Bert Helsing looli
SEWS. You speak as if formulating a theory — at one another.) just now, on the street outsidc. With mine own
VAN HELSING. (Ah, be this not love in its purest sense? two eyes I saw him! My god, it is the man himself!
To transfer from full veins of one to empty veins of another.) MINA. Jonathan, what are you —
— N ow, my good friend John, this word of caution: You deal HARIJR. But he has grown young. The grey hair, the weath-
\vitl1 madmen. All men are mad if1 some way or the other, and ered face are gone. Such a change that I though t mine eyes
inasinuch as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so, too, you mistaken — but there can be no mistake! It is truly lie! Oh,
must deal with God k madmen. if I had only known! (lVina rushes to him. T/ts tReu c/oie in as
3 ARD. Who migh t they be? niell, fearing lie may come to some harm.)
VAN I3ELSING. The rest of the world. You and I must keen hIINA. Enough, now! It's over! You're home and safe —
liiiomledge in th /›/ocr. We must keep what we learn here
HARKER. (Ovwlaffing.) And that I, wretched fate, was his
(Tonches $ewa1‘d on the heart.j and here — (Touches /tim on fse
solicitor! (I-Iai‘ker imi/t/J bulls a very large hunting knife from a
forehead.) — and trust only one another with these secrets.
SEWARD. You speak as though playing a game. S/isa//i on his helt.) Would I’d had my knife with me then —
No! The thought will drive me mad!
VAN I—IELSING. I assure you, John, there is no jest here. MINA. Jonathan, no!
Only life and cleath . . . and perhaps more. (The transfusion com- MINA. Lucy?! What has happened to her?!
Helsing begins Temouing the equifimcttl fT0m them, as
China enters, coat on, can ying her traveling bag.)

32
HARKER. have loosed his on England! A:n ever-widening circle
of death have I brought to these shores! (On lits hnees.) I had my
chance and I did nothing! MY FAILURE SHALL NOT GO
UNPUNISHED! (He quickly l›vaces the hutfe on the
 ground and is ahout to ei lse on it, as — Seniurd rind
Vnn HelsiTtfl full ltim back n I the last instant, settling his life. MiTID A ]›allid coinfi lexion to lits facc. Long, yellowed fingernails, dangr•r-
screams, as — Sen›ard and Van Helsing /tau/ Haulier oitt of the ousl)› share. He descenis [perhn frs] a long minding staircase. I-ie
room.) sj›enlis in a friencll), gracious manner.)
DRACULA. \\*elcome to my home! Enter freely ancl go safely
HARKER. VAN HELSING. — leaving something of the happiness you brin g! (Haulier, ca-
Forgive me! Oh, God, Into the other room! Quickly! rting o entire eiid /iz3 briefcnse, enters — the cnstle. Trans)› Isan,ia.
forgive me! Oh, Mina! Prepare a syringe! Morphine T/tzi room is definecl krimaril Q a fern intleterminatr. ol ect,s n liir.It
Mina, fOrgive me! ten milligrams! me .slirou‹le‹l in Alec/t cloth. An ancient, cob-webbed chair clelier li angs
the men are g0ne. A low musical drone, us lights J›uJl
down HARKER. Count Dracula?
to , too exliattsted to more. Then, a sound of wings fia{ping, as DRACULA. I am Dracula. And I did you welcom e, Mr.
— M.rna looks off in the direction indie/i Haulier was tal‹en. The Harker. Come in! The nigh t air is chill. You must need cat
and rest. (With a same of lits hand, Dracula makes lhr. candles or
and opens it. She removes sDmething from the bag and sits, f›lacing the chandelier light k As far/‹rr looms its at the canclles, Dracula
t* t^ onl of h . . t H ournal. She looks at it. Then tahes ltis bags from him oral carries hem oiraJ.) The trip is ardu-
she removes the blue ribbon which binds if shut. Sets the ribbon aside, ous, but the destination worthwhile.
still staring at tlte closed journnl, as — Vnn Helsing enters.) HARKER. I have brough t the information you requested re-
VAN HELSING. He's calmed now. It will — (He rig when garding the properties in London. Furthermore, Mr. Dawl‹ins,
he sees tier silence and demeanor. She does not fools up at him. Si- my superior, recommends that —
lence.) Miss Mina? DRACULA. (Politely.) Mr. Harker.
MINA. (Quietly, with resolve.) A shadowy pall seems to have HARKIiR. Yes.
come over our happiness. DRACULA. You have traveled far. Let your host see to your
VAN HELSIN G. Had I but answers, I would relieve your pleasure before you see to his business. (Dracula thrones herck one
fears. But, the web is not fully spun — the shape of our mis- of the black coverings, revealing — Supper. Set, elegantly, for one.
ery not yet revealed. The covered silver platter is identical to i/ir one used l›'f lienfield in
lVfINA. We will learn it all too late, I fear. And knowledge the mf scene.) I do hope you're hungry.
is useless to the dead. HARIWR. I am, actually. (Dracula pulls bacli Harker’s chair.
VAN HIiLSING. Not so, lvfiss 1\4ina. It is, in fact, on account Harher sits.)
of the dead that I have come. (Silence. Mina shares at him ... DRAGULA. I pray you, sit and sup as you please. You will, I
then lifis the Journal.) trust, excuse me that I do not join you. I have dined already.
MINA. I fear some clue lies here within. Jonathan’s trust has (Dracula prepare.s to lift the co-uer of the plate. He stone, looks in
willed these words remain unread. But, I must I‹now what has Harker's ryes .. .) And I do not sup. (Me uncovers the dish initlt cs
brought him to this horrid precipice. (She looks back to Van flourish. It is a beautifuI coast chicken, amid vegetables and sliced
Helsing.) Will you help me, Professor?
32 (Van Helsing nods, steps frutt.j Please. Enjoy. (Harker begins to eat. Dracula blows a cloucl
›‘- +’na mosses hwself. Then . . . st sloniIy Jo nihich, of dust from a wine bottle, and looks at 1/te /obe/.) Ahh. A gift fTOlTl
simultaneously — Opetusa e doo U. [or: the sound of a huge Attila. The Huns were despicable, but they l‹new their wine.
door opening is heard. J Music. Smohe swirls amid the light, which (Dracula fills Harker's glass, as — Harker stares at his. Fzuuf/y,
reveals — Dracula. Much older now. His hair long, grey and wild. HOTkW laughs a bit, assuming the remark mas in jest.)
HACKER. )ohingly.)
Oh, yes, I see. Passed down, then — DRACULA. I shall like you, Mr. Harker. (Touching lits li$S.)
from an ancient recipe.
DRACULA. I, too, enjoy the occasional deer. We are fighters, you see. We
(Not joliingly.) A gift. From an ancient adversary.
Carpathians have bravery and conquest in our veins. (I“iercel ,
(H‹iYlWT !OOlIs down at I/te glass of notn e.)
lroudl .j It is no wonder that when the Magyar, the Lombard,
HARIJR. Won't you join me, then?
DIMCULA. (Immediately, indentically.) Won’I you join me, the Ayer, or the Turk poured his thousands upon our fron-
then? tier — we drove them back. Legion after legion, they come
FIARIJR. Pardon? for our land and we sentenced them to heaven, instead. We
DRACULA. My apologies, Mr. are a fierce people, Mr. Harker. With a wealth of victories like
Harker — but I must study
you. I must learn your ways. (The star.) I-low is it? (Di‘acula ges- the Hapsburgs and Romanoffs will never know.
tures for Haulier to “drinlt Please. ” Earlier taltes a St) f 5t mine HARKER. You speak with the passion of one who was there.
D TO Cit IO OO16/I eS Jtt2tt, j bit[y;,t t[ DRACULA. ( ter, rr/ectiue.) Da Vinci have I kn own.
HARIJR. Delicious. Charlemagne. Bach. (Harher looms at /titn, nothing.) But,
DRACULA. (Eyeing Harltw’s necl‹.) ¥es. great men, like galaxies, end as dust. We Carpathians have
HAIUJR. You don’ t partake? come to kriow that the early times, the warlike days are over.
DRACULA. Of wine? In our world, Mr. Harker, blood is too precious a think to be
HARKER. Yes. spilt. (A cocli crocus, in the distance. Dracula rises.) But, I have spo-
DRACULA. No. Not of wine. keitoo long. It is near morning and I must retire. I leave
USR. Ifit be not too hold, m;iy I — you, then, to your rcst. (He throws Mac/i anotluir blacli covering,
DRACULA. Bold. Yes! Is that the way of things in London rwealing — a small ted, arid night table. On the bed, inexfllicabl),
hold? Please — I must know all I can of your city.
lane which we saw Dracula carrf of else-
HARIJR. So, you’ve never been? ,' where. On t/te tahle is a Jiitclwr and basin of water, and a ton el.)
DRACULA. No, but I liave my One thing, Mr. Harker: You may to anpvhere you like in the
l9OOkS — many books — and as I maps and Charts. And my castle, except where the doors are locked, where of course you
imagine, I hunger-. read, I imagine. And as I will not wish to go. We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania
WEARIER. London is a fine city. is not England. Our ways are no t your ways, and there shall
DRACULA. More to the point, friend: it is a
crowded city. be to you many strange things. But, did you see with my eyes

How I delight in thinking of the bustling streets, peopled with . and know with my knowledge . you would better under-
the mad whirl and rush of humanity. Oh, to be in the midst stand. (Cock more, again.) Good night, then. And good morn-
of that banquet of life!
ing. (With a streefiiiig flourisli of his caJ›e, he turns and goes, as
HARIJR. I should, I think, lights isolate — Harker, standing 6f ltte rig/tt stand, removing lits
spaces. The riding and hunting. enjoy the country. The open i/iirt, and — Mina, holding the journal, north hatt Helsing near /ter.
DRAGULA. You hunt, do you? Mina begins to ego 1.)
HARIJR. When time allows. VAN HELSING. Miss Mina — read on.
_MINA. I’m afraid I’rn mistaken, Professor. There is no thing
DRACULA. And, pray, what do you hunt? HARIJR. Bear, elk, the occasional deer. DRACULA.

38 59
 Knife or bow? here to enligh ten his. (Van Helsing tahes her ftand — stofifiing her
HARKER. Both, actually.
front closing the journal.)
VAN HELSING. Miss Mina, I beg of you. These notes —
this shorthand — was written for a reason. We must read on!

66
MICA. I've not time to waste. These are travel notes — business
dealin gs cvi th an agin g no b1e man — no thin g 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 inlc on innoccnt pages — hidden there are wild and mys-
terious things. And if we are to reach into the dar3‹ness ancl
bring Jonathan a gleam of peace — we must not be deterred.
We must, from this moment on, be relen tless. WE MUST
HOW THE ALL OF IT. (Silence. Mina staves at /tini. He juts
the open journal back into her hands.) Now: page forward, Miss
Nina. I pray you: page forward and read on. (Mina fiages for-
uiard in the journal, as — Harker stands in his un deishirl. I-ie holds
the rosary in lits hand . loolo at it .. . then puts it around his neck.
He has re!rieued a mug of shaving creme and O Slfaiglit razor from
his bag. He npfilies a small amount of creme to one side of hit neck,
preJiaring to shave. Sound of a wolf lioniling, long and jilaintine.
Harker /i//i o small mirror, holds it usr in front of him. Another wolf
bOWlS. DTher ltfls the razor and i3 about to bring the i‘azor to his
neck, nihen — Dracula aflflears, behind him. He matches Haulier from
a distance, “mirroring” Harher's motions delicately, niith his fingers,
as — Harher shaves. I-ie cannot, of course, see Dracula in the mir-
ror. Still another toolf houils, followed Inf — a slight, delicious sigh
from Dracula, lits eyes closed, savoring the loucli, the memorf
Harker, heDring the sigh, ash:)
HARKER. Who's there? (Startled, Harher, loolis quiclily into the
mirror. He angles the mirror in several ways, ttying to find Dracula ’s
image i8 it — without succr.s.s. Harker begins to turn:)
DRACULA. You needn't turn. I don't wish to disturb you.
(Strangely, nervously, I-Iarher continues i/taming.,) 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 —
I-IARKER. Yes?
DRACULA. You've cut yourself. (Harher sees ii i2t the mirror.j
HARKER. So, I have. (Harker begins to reach for the towel.)
38
DRACULA. Please. Allow me. (Wolf hon›ls, as — Draruln ay-
proaclies, until he is diTecllj behind Earlier. He takes thr. ton el fi-oiii
Harliw. Wth one hand, Dracula gently tilts Harker's head to one sicl'.•,
exposing his neclt, exposing the city. A loud wolf hon 1, as — Dr‹icuta
thrones bacli his herid, saying:) Ah, the Children of thc Nigh t.
What beautiful music they make! (Dracula o|›ens lits wool/i, re-
vealing the jong,_canine ter.th for the first time. V!ith his other hun‹l,
lie /rfi t/ie torrel fall to t/tr growed. oAf, is ee. i
into Mnrker’s neck — The iercing sound of n huge door slaniiniil g
shut is heard. Harker turns, slioclied 6f the sonncl, and sr.r.in;r
the cmci fix, Drncula lets go of Harker and stuinbles bucli, area), willi
a scream — more mol-ues houiling. Shore musir. Haulier takes liol‹l of
the crucifix and loolis dotes at it, loo/ii ii/ a/ Dracula, ft iglttenecl,
confused.) You must take care, lvlr. Harker! Take care how you
cut yourself — it is more dangerous than you thin1 in this
country!
HARKER. (Grabbing the towel front the floor.) Where are my Jas-
pers? (Dracula stares at him.) Answer me, please! All ink r•pers
— they're gone — everything — my notes, letters, even the
deed to I/ie property itself — as yet unsigned — gone —
DRACULA. You've been blessed with a disappearance! I-Ion'
fortunate!
MINA. But this journal, how did it survive?
\*AN HELSING. The shorthand — he knew not its contents!
HARKER. And my clo thes — all but what I have on is miss-
ing!
DRACULA. I’11 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. I-tarker, 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 extends his finzers towarcl
Harker’s head. Harher leans foruirird a bit, staring at Dracula, fro-
59
Mli, 5ojiRg nothing. F/ie sound of digging hegins softly, ‹jts/an/JJ.j HARIJR. I want to leave tonight.
Excellent! A fine and noble name! And, it's location? (Again, DRACULA. I’m afraid that's impossible.
Dr‹tcula extends lits fingcrs, and, again, Harker stares at Dracula, HARIGR. Why?
saying nothing.) Splen did! DRAGULA. My coachman and horses are away.
VAN HELSING. Wait, go back! We must know! (Mina runs HARIJIt. I'll walk!
the Page back.j The name and location — we must know it! DRACULA. Alone among the wolves?!
NIINA. (Looming iii t/tr hooli.) It's not here — there is noth- I-IAIUJR. I’11 hazard a chance. Now, please, point me to the
ing here —
door!
VAN HELSING. (Crrabbing I/ie book.) Let me see that! DRACULA. Oh, Mr. Harker, I'11 point you to L the doors!
MINA. The page is burned away — burned away in two (Dracula gestures witfi n flourish› fn‘otlV Urlf, — O 8%e^!‘-^g !!)
places — ff{-) f) f.ff yf p y ff fi f f•ff f D’fQ Q lf e y ‘f 1.1 Q fpfi I S'O R d.
VAN HELSING. How can that be? (The sound of digging ii J-IARKER. (Overla flJairig the sound of the doors.) \Vu’i I! to!
not much louder.) MINA. (Overla yiiig /-fer/‹r.j JONATI-IAN!
DRACULA. And as for light, tell me — is it well appointed? DRACULA. You English have a phrase: “Welcome the coin-
HAIUJR. (bitterly.j Well — no — in fact, it is quite shrouded ing, speed the par ting guest!” You see, I mm li apron Xlr.
in darkness — Harker, to speed your parting — (And, saying this, lie extends
DRACULA. I commend you, Mr. Harker. I love the shade
and the shadow; the solitude and potent c itiet of the nigh t.
HARKER. (dgifoted. 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. 8°
HAPvIJR. And the boxes? Large boxes being hauled out — DRACULA. I have all I need of you, Mr. 1-Iarker. Your work
the last tlii ee days and nights — what is the meaning of that? is at an end.
DRACULA. That work is entrusted to an other solicitor, my HARIJR. (We‹iliening.) I m ust tell them — tell them of the
friend. (A threat.) I beg you not to press me further. stLs/ go digging — the boxes of earth
to England. I am starring here. For want of companionship. For DRACULA. And, I shall carry your memory with me to En-
want of life! (Dracula removes a ]›aflw — the deed — from his cloth- gland.
ing.) Here is the deed. It lacks only your signature. I-tARKER. (Bavel au‹lible.) Mina — Mina, de ivarned — oh,
HARIJR. 1-low did you — mina . .. {The ltj]›nosis conifilete, Harker livs on the hej. Wi'tlt OR-
DIMCULA. (I-ie frodoces a writing iristrumeiit. I-ie holds it out other esture, Dracula sunffs the candles on the cliandeli“er out. he
to Earlier, who stares at it, not moving. Sound of bats sltrieliing Joins lump and goes, as lights isolate — tlte bed. It ii /i/ o i/‹%t of
Um houil of tlie niolves, aitd the music.) Come, Mr Harker. Finish moonlight. Light also remains on Mina and VaR HeAi’ng.)
what you stnr ted. (Another long 7noinent of stand off, then, VAN HELSING. That is enough for tonight! Put yourself
wholly through no moi e, I beg of you —
— Hat-ker gi-ams the writing instrument and signs I/ie deed. Dracula
synths.j Your good work shall be rewarded ten-fold. MINA. No, you’re righ t, Professor — I must page forward,
HARKER. I want to leave. I must know it, I must know it all! (lVina flips qutc/t/y tliTougli
DRACULA. Very well. itiore J ages. 2is she d oes, flue is — iiiotiOn on the beds all aeonTId
40
I-farmer. Nlotion u.nder the sheets, then mm.s . . . a d legi .
tical to the one seen earlier.° Dry ciila open‘s the box rind steps i‘nsi‘de,
coming
saying.’)
ti$ out o //ie fied job: from utirfer ni _ ñe/titirI the bed.] Soicn‹f o/
DRACULA. And so, my Mr e at good than ks to you, Mr-.
passionnle breathing, hissing, sinister‘ tuhis kers, the §oux‹fitig of a
Harker! I shall leave you in the good hands of the lovin g
lienrt, groiuing fnsler rind f‹isler, as — the arms rind legs slitlier
Carpathian people! (The Vixens plunge their faces down info f/ir
arou nil on Hnrl‹er's hody, Hourly matting him, sedu ctiuely, ei
oticnlly bag as i/tcy devour the b‹ifi. The tlood drips out of thr. buy s
— then, their fac_ s e emerge . . t/tey ‹me the two vixens rue glimpsed auto Hnrlter's (rice rind chest, below them. The Vixetts nze riiui•noiis,
earlier. White faces, bloocl-red mouths, wild hair, flowing garmen Is . . . sloppy enters — their faces growing red and mci earth the fertile' 'J›lea-
nnd, of course, fo.n ed teeth. Sound lniilcls. HarJier rest ousts, still lialf- sures o//reifi life. Drncula climbs into the conden box, us — L'linn
asleefi, cciressing the vixens, feifitig himself be missed on the mouth,
kissed nll over his bod y, fileasura bly. Then .. /tii te wens , drops the journal and mtce to the edge of the stage, C., I/irowittg me-
oe ’
lto ie. He malies full and sees their fanged-teeth, their red self to fire ground — Van Melsing stands, lioltling the Bourne/ —
efes. He realizes hit ams and legs are tied to tlte bed. He re‹ilizes lie ten field, cnged for: iti o elm/I of fig/ttJ, appears.)
is in

!.
mortal danger.) ;'’ MINA. HARKER. RENFIELD.
HARKER. What are you?! NO! LET ME GO! (Tlu: Vixens hover JONATHAN! !! NOOO OOO! !! hfASTER!!!
just abone his exposed ztecft out either ride. They fools at etc/t otlter, DRACULA. AND I, MR. I-IARKER —
fic/i their li frs, smile, and then.’) RENFIELD. I'M HERE MASTER!! !
HAIUCER MINA. VAN HELSING. MY GOD, IT'S TRUE!
AWHHHHHHHW' NOOOOOOOOO'T DRACULA. — I AM BOUND FOR ENGI D!!! (Nlusic vry
(The:f two ei ds e as — Dracula instantly quickl crescendos, as — the Vixens eat — Haulier screams — Ivlinn
te
appears, holding a small cloth sach, screaming uolcanically.) into the cloth bag — and hands the bag to the Vixens. They
DRACULA. HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU TOUCH tame the bag — reaching into it, cooing and whispering and
HIM! HE lS MINE!!! (The Yixrris are throuin aside if Dracufa’s touching the nseen] bar lovingly. Thy stand behind the bed —
gesture. Thry crawl about on the ground — furious helfi less, breath- directly over Harker’s head. Music and sounds lurid, as —
ing wildly.) Back, both of you! Back to your place! Your time Dracula thrones back one final blacl‹ covering, revealing — a n
with him will come! Tomorrow I set sail, and then he shall ooden box, coffin-sized, iden-
bc yours. (The Vixens coo, maari 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, lie pulls a tiny, crfing b_g_yb, holding if /›y the legs. The Vixens
eyes light up, hungrily. Harker loohs on, horrified.)
VAN HELSING. My god! (Dracula quickly puts the bar Mac/i
43
sabs — Renfrew rants — Van Helsing prays aloud to the lien:ecu.s,
crossing himself — And, Dracula lowers himself into the box, mid
then cfoses the lid of the box, slamming it shut — instant silence. All
lights out, except for a shaft of light on — Mina. Still crying, qttirtfy,
she raises her head. Next to her, on the ground, its head [per- haps]
moving ever-so-slightly, is — a large black raven. Mina stares at the
raven, wiping her ieorJ. She reaches out her hand, fearfully ‹if first,
taward the rouen's head. SU gently touches the raven’s head toith her
fingers, as — final quick Inirst of music, loud. Light on Mina snags
out, fast.)

ENB OF ACT ONE

40
 home to a safer room. You have provided that, here at the
asylum.
ACT TWO SEWAIH. But, safe from what?
VAN HELSING. Do not fears JOhfl, to think the most u-
probable. And, as you think it, remember our promise to one
ano ther: to not enligh ten, and thus, no t alarm, the others.
There is misery enough among them.
SEWARD. But what effect will garlic have on her loss of
blood?
VAN. HELSING. Perhaps none. And perhaps all. (!!an Nrhiug
sto|›s in /tii work end turns to Seward.) You have been of gi-eat
help to her, John. And, in no less than blood, she is your
bride.
SEWARD. No man knows — till he experien ces it — what
VAN HLLSING. The outer gate, as you say, is guarded at it is to feel lits own life drawn away and into the veins of the
all times? woman he adores.
SEWARD. Yes. VAN HELSING. Further, I trust in your inspection you en-
countered the marks on Miss Lucy's neck.
VAN I-IELSIN G. rund there is no o ther access to this room?
SEWARD. Yes. I did.
SEWARD. None, ivhatsoevcr. The room was built for cligni-
VAN HELSING. And you mean to tell me you have no sus-
taries ivlio, on occasion, would visit the asylum — to show they
picion as to what is killing your dear Lucy?
were a “friend to those less fortunate.” Most quicldy found they
SEWARD. /\ nervous prostration following on great loss of
could not stomach the inmates — and thus spent their time
safel} lockecl away in here. (Van Helsing nods, aflflrovingly, and blood.
IU 8!! sees S0!iIPl li iR f, On I If e fiooy in the celt tyi‘ of Ili y rootft. He 5ytpp/ 1
VAN I-IELSIN G. Aiict how was the blood lost? (Seward stair.s
and lool‹s af i/.j \Vliat is it? at hin.j John, it is the fault of our science that it wants to ex-
VAN HELSIN G. Just a bit of clii-t. plain everything — and if it fails, then it says there is noth-
ing to explain.
SEWAIW. I'll have the staff be more thorough.
SEWARD. But if 11er blood — great quantities of her- blood
VW* IiELSIN G. See, too, th at they allow no strangers to
— was lost througly a wound in tier neck, nilieie did i/ No ? I t
en ter.
was not on her clothing, her bedding, it was nowliere to be
SE\\*ARD. Th ey won’t, I assure you.
seen. II’ it happened as you say: w/ref took it out? (Minu enters,
VAN HEX.SING. Assurance is not en ough, John. They must
be vigilan r. They must be rigorously on-guard against the un- CO!Or

known. (He ietumis to liii worlt iii the room.) Pay special atten- MINA. A package has arrived for you, Professor.
tion to the doors and windows. HELSING. Splen did. If you' r ace it on the bed. (She
SE\VARD. Professor, 1’in afraid I don' t understand does.) And Miss Lucy?
\*AN I-IELSING. It i‹'as necessary to move Lucy from her MINA. She's on her way.
SEWARD. I’11 see her up. Excuse me. (Seward exits.)
MINA. Professor Van Helsin g, I must ask —

46 47
VAN HELSING. Old, Miss Mina, how can I say what I owe
to you? Em. Ftarker's journal was as sunshine to me. It opened
a yate shrouded in supersti tion and disregard — and it rlazzled
me with insiyh t.
MINA. Yes, I gothe r ther, but even still —
VAN HELSIN G. If ever Alaraham Van Helsing can do any-
thing for you or yours, if ever I may seiwe you as a friend, I
trust you i‹ ill le I me know. There are darknesses in this life,
and there ai e liyh ts; ancl you, Miss Mina, are surely one of
the ligh ts.
MINA. (Pause.) There is something.
VAN HELSIN G. 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 nigh ts I found her
th ere and trough t her home. Then, she began to grow ill.
(Pause.) l°rofessor, I have pledged her my confides ce, so I must
ask you —
VAN I-IELSING. 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 si Is, curious.)
Once there was a man — or a shadow of a man — all in black,
his face in shadoiv. I th o ugly t no thin g of it till reading
Jonatli an's journal. The man he described, and what he wrote
of the Cou nt's plans to come to London — I know no t what
this means, but there seems to be some thread of continuity,
some — (Stofis.) to, it is too strange. You will laugh and think
me foolish.
VAN HELSING. Oh, my dear, I have learn ed not to belittle
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 re quest:44 I want to know ivh a t
you know. I want to be informed of what you learn, as you
learn it.
VAN HELSING. (Pause.) Miss Mina, while it is true that Mr.
Hat kei-'s siifferin q falls cvi thin the i ange of my experioia cc —
MINA. You la ave prom ised you r friendship. Is you r p
romise a worthy one or n ot? (Lu cy entry‘s, us/ierer/ iti UJ Seiuarcl.
S/ie r‹- ninin,s extremely {nle.)
SEWARD. Here we at'e.
LUCY. It's just as you described.
MINA. P›‘0 8SS0r!
VAN HELSING. You la ave my word.
LUCY. But you said nothing of the smell. My God!
VAN LIELSING. A medicinal conti-ivance, nothing nor-o.
SEWARD. One of us will stay here with you at all times —
to keer atch, to assure your safety. (Van Helsing li,ands he //ie
mra{ped box.)
VAN HELSING. And this, Miss Lucy, is for you.
LUCK’. Such flattery do the unwell receive! (Site opens the loo.x.
Removes a érnufi/uf nirealh of garlic.) Oh, Professor, such a I eau-
tiful wreath. I shall hang it on the —
VAN HELSING. It's to be worn.
LUCY. Worn? (He lacr.s I/ie wreath over he head.)
VAN HELSIL G. Like this.
LUCY. Well, the yar1ic around the ivinclow is one think, sir.
But, I’m afraicl I can’ t — (She begins to retnore he uirratlt.
I-Helsing, ciith a firm han‹1, sto)s her‘.)
VAN HELSING. It will guard against your bad clreams, Miss
Lucy —
LUCY. (Wii/i o laugh.) But, it's common garlic! I fear you’re
having a joke on me, Professor —
VAN HELSING. (P'eroentl).) I warn you: do not thwart rrie!
There is no jest in what I do! (Thy all looli at /izin, stuneed fi
/tii oulhurst.) On ly trim purpose. Take care to mind me, if not
for yout own sake, then for that of the others. (Liz stari.s at,
firm, curious. Tñ eii she lowers the wreath Each down around Inn‘
necl‹.) LUCY. I trust
you have reasons for what you do, but I must say it puzzles me.
(With a lnugh.) Were a stranger to walls in, they’d think you
were worming a spell to keer out an evil spirit!
VAN HELSING. (Simply.) Maybe I am. (An Attendant ieslu'.s in
to the room.)
ATTENDANT. Dr. Seward! VAN HELSIN G. From the one you call
SE\\*ARD. \V1iat is it? Master?
ATTENDANT. It's Renfield — you must come! (Seuiard leaves
Lu cy’s sim and starts out.)
LUCY. John —
VAN FIELSIN G. (To Seward, urgently.) May I come with you?
This madman may serve as an “index for our investigation.
SEWARD. In what may?
VAN HELSING. Have not his outbursts coincided with Lucy's

to Lu cy.) We leave you in the best of hands. (Van Helsin,g rushes

LUCY. Professor — (Pause, turns to 1Uiuo.j What is happen-

ing to me?
MINI. You musn’ t think of it. You need only to rest and —
LUCY. Mina, promise me this.
h'IINA. Anything at all.
LUCY. Promise you'll forgive me.
4IINA. Lucy, don' t be silly — forgive you for what?
LU CY. For something 1 know n ot of. But th ere are dai-k
imaginings in me. I laave fougli t to rid my mind of them ...
bu t they rise tip wi th in me, bringing color to my cheeks and
a sic1‹1y taste in my inou th. (lVina sta›‘es o I her-.) Goal help me,
I\fin a. I cton' t knoiv what I've laecome. (Li,glits s/ti// quickly
to
— RTRftcld ’s cell. Yen field sits, i1iyx{licahl j, in a small old, ornn)e

' c/wit-. It srems to be mcicle of ffolden homes, be‹leclied with jewels. He

sits, ttmc/mixed, iti a distiii,guislied ›rtati›ier, stroll ing an (;ne ’ma
cigarette, holcling court with peat élan. As Remfield tally, Sinuard and
Van Helsing rush in. An Attendant is autside the cr.II.)
RENFIELD. Oli, ancl clo let me recoun t how she came into
the room: \Vitl1 such joie de rirre, such an casy gracefulness
which wou1d commancl the respect of any lunatic — for easi-
ii ess is the dne quality mad people respect the most. (Seeing
I/ie ririi.) Ai'rive—ed from Gloucester! tray, what news?
SEWARD. (To the Altendunt.) \\Fiat is — where did this chair
come from? (Tlte Attendant gestures lltal “he /toi no idea, ” or:j
RENI°IELD. From one who holds me in high esteem.

50
 RENFIELD. (To .Sriu i r/, re/eniiig tr Ver Helsing.) Oh, where
diJ ) ou Minct laiin?
SEWARD. Renfielcl, listen to me —
RENFIELD. And the girl, John! Oh, no n ondci you i c hcart- laro ken. She crrrle
ley, using on assumed name. I tound that clashing. \\*c talkerl. I spoke of my fondn
ess for h4ozar t — but she bested me '‹'i th li cr treatise on Bach.
SEV*AlH. Miss Lucy lies been •rstairs all day — RENFIELD. She’s a very
clever gii’1! She called hersclf Uiiiu,
claiine d to be lost — bu t then, we're all lost in he re, aren’ t we? 1 c ••re
shefouncl leer way.
VAN HELSIN G. You re spcakin g of Miss Ivlina, then? lUiNFIELD. Nam e them
what you will, righ t, Jo hn ny? Any laride will do.
SEWARD. (Burtons.) I will rl O L tOlCI’ate th is kind o —
VW* I-IELSING. jolt n! Match n ot rn acl n css cvi th wi ts. Pursu c it as it plays.
RENFIELD. f-Ici voice, like water: “Coulcl ou point me to
rla e guest room, I seem to h ave taken a wrong thu-n.” I c uoth her a sonne I an ct
sen t her- on It cr way. A lovely creature. She shall lie missed.
VAN IfiELSIN G. Missed? Do say more. In wIa at way will she ñe m'issecl?
’Ecufielcl cai‘efull j dro fls 7tti iinagin arf ci,gai“etta to tits you nd nncl yu ts il out with
lits foor he ftuiti forwarcl, s/ra/i.i with an urdrii/ c/arif)›.)
RENFIELD. I en treat you, Dr. Seward, to let me on t of this
mad ho use. Send me away from here — anywhere you will — oi- I will be forced
to do something terrible.
VAN HELSING. And what would that be?
RENFIELD. I am in great danger-, sH !
SEWARD. You're in no danger at all. You’re perfe ctly safe here —
RENFIELD. I am speaking from the depth of ni} soul. I bcg
of you. You clon’ t knoiv wli at you do by keeping me here! You “ don t knoiv wh
om you shall harm — and I, laoun d to secrecy,
cann ot tell yo u!
SEWARD. (Angril .) You will stay he re till the con rt deems you fit, and thesc
wild la arangues in no way further your wish

48 49
to be consiclered sane! (Anil not, a total cli,artpc zii‘Renfield. ldc
s/a?idi an I/ie c/iatr, leer)s at tlte men, leafs about he cell with aban-
doc. This is not dementia — http a fierce, {ur oseful jury. "The Min
shout nd-lits, tq!inq to calm him, mnlie sense of l i .
RENFIELD. Send me where you will! Bind me! Beat me!
Drug me away! Tie me to a rock and throw me in a j.nil —
do wliatever you must, BUT TAKE ME FROM TIERE AND
SAVE MY SOUL FROM GUILT!
VAN HELSING. SEWARD.
\Vhat yuilt do you speak of? Calm yourself and explain —
RENFIELD. Oh — hear me — by all you hold sacred by
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 I-IELSING.
T IAT’S ENOUGH NOW — Hear him out —
RENFIELD. DON'T YOU SEE, JOHNNY, I AM CURED! I AM
NO LUNATIC IN A MAD FIT — BUT A SANE MAN FIGHT-
ING FOR I-IIS SOUL!
SEWARD. (To the Attendant.) See that he goes nowhere. (In
a flasli of rake, Renfield firoduces a small, curued siuord. [It is pm-
liaps finrt of tlte chair. J He lahes a wild swing at Sewnrd, cutting
his on the arm.)
RENFIELD. HEAR ME NOW! (Seuiard grabs his cut arm, or
/tiJ sJtirl begins to blood y. The Attendant rushes out. Renfield’s at-
Mention sliifts instantly to the sword. He kneels, sharing at the blood
on the sword. Then, he begins to lie/i the blood from lñ r 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 belime 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 Seuiard,
forcefuffy and urgently.)
50
VAN Ff LSING Can you tell me why men — in nil ‹i(ycs
’ancl all places — ha e beli evccl th‹i t there are som e tc 1o
.’ live or alwo)›s? T Int I.here at‘e men and women winr cant.ct, ‹lie?
’ RENFIELD. (Lool‹i1i¿ ufl nt //mri, siicltleiilj, co¿entlj.) I dirt \ fiat
I could to warn you. Remem her that. (Thy look ul Aen rfrl, ui
' fly/th s/ii// !o — the guest room nt I/ie Asylum. Sunsr/. F/ie ,/i›iuf
crescent o/ a huge run is seen outsicle the iuiiidotc. Dunn] the jnl-
! losing, it will set coiTtJ›letely, slou›ly *!’••kteariiig from vieui. Let .c) is
in l›ecl, asleep. S/ie means the wreath of (arlic around li. 'r necli. LII
! color, hoover, is restored. She 1.ooks mitc/t lilie S/ie r/zd at f/ie benin-
i n'ing of the flay — lieautiful, /ranqiii/. Piso sits iu u r.li,air iieni‘
//ie get, also osleefi, burlier's )oiirnul oJ›en on Arr laJ›. 1'“rtin fly, ill
, the ‹distance, a boys’ c/noir siiigi a .so/errn, beauti.ful Jiyiiiii. z1
eiiiri/r
Attendant enters, carrying tea on a tray. V!riliing nr.illier of the u›oiiie›i„
.i/ie sets the ti“cty in //ie 7‘OOTH . I/ieii begins to leave. She stoJ›s. She.
,’ sees something. She malhs D. .. bends down to inspect something on
//ir floor in the center of flu: room. Um-ttgs, slightly. Erarii her ‹tfiroit,
she removes a small hand-broom. She sweeps a small bit of drrt /ro i
the rug — and info her open hand. Finished oil/i i/his lash, slte sl,cn1s
to leave, his — Seward entws the room. His arm is banñagerl. 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 I/ie lea ti a . He goes to it, begins to pour a cu|› of few, then —
Stops. His yes have caught sight of — Lu af. In her sleep, shr. is
remouittg the wrtnth o( rarlic from around her neck. Never mnking,
Lu cy tosses the n›realh aside, then lies back and sleeps, peacefully.
Seniard stands, frozen, matching her, as — Mina malies.)
MINA. Doctor?
SEWARD. (Startled.) What —
MINA. What is it? (Seeing his bandaged arm.) What has hop-
pened to your arm?
SEWARD. Oh — clumsiness, I'm afraid. Miss Nina, if I ma}
— (Pause, she looks up at him, she nods.) Did you have occasion
to see one of my patients earlier today?
MINA. In fact, I did. I became lost, entered a co rridor
opened a large door, and found myself in the midst of your
inmates. I was quite fluinmoxed. I spoke to a Count Renfield.
SEWARD. Count?
MINA. Or so he called himself. He told me of his love for
the violin. (Scwar‹l stares at fier ns she moses aural.) Well, I'll leave
our dear Lucy to you. She seems much better. Her sleep is
very peaceful. Her color I estored.
SEWARD. And Mr. Harker, how is he?
MINA. Professor Van Helsing has met with him. And with
good results, I thin k. (Tahes lits hand.) May God's kindness be
with us all. (Mina goes. Seuiard foo/ts melt at Lucf. He fliclis ufi
Elm iure‹itJi frown uiliet-inner Lu three it. Loolis at it. Carries it to the
bed. I-ie tuYlis Lu ry 'S liea " *•‘! k!••••i'ng to ref lace 1/is mrraffi
ni“oulid her‘ tire/i. He fiulls Doc/i her hair — Mini rig him a view of
her‘ necli. He stops. He dzo§s f/te nrreatli. oo o c one a ter
necli. Tonches Birr necli, entl , uiitli lits fingers. He bach away from
tlte bed . . . surJlrised, overjoyed. He moves quicl‹ly to the entrance ancl
hells off.)
SEWARD. IVliss, come quickly! (He loo/‹s Each ct Lucf, who is
still sleeping, as — the F'eniale Attendant rushes i.n. Sewcird talies hold
of her, urgently.) Find Professor Van Helsing. Send him directly
hei‘e. (The female Attendant iiodi.) Tell him they are gone! The
marks on her neck — they have disafifleared! She is liealecl!
uicl:l) now — go! (The F'einale Attendant nods ortd i-uslies oJ
Se uarcl retttrns to tfte beef, joyotcsfy, rind I d. S/ie does
vol mrtlte. Tlte huge sun has now coiiifilelely set. Silence. Seuuird ’s
es. He squeezes her hand, several times . . . tlten slams
i1, ngaiti and ngain.) Lucy. (He feels /ter §tibe, touches her J"oreliead.)
, Lucy, wake up. Lucy, please. Lucy, come on now — wake up
' her rye
lids, ñe éegiiii to slialie her.) Lucy! Oh, my god
— Lucy . . . (He tn/iei her hand ttiirror arid holds it near hrr mouth
, tt0tr, lter Joiigi tered — He leans /omard, slowly, es stilt closed,
end nose. Lool‹s at the mirror. Nothing. He Hourly closes her ryes. He
ci osses himself. He drops to lits /tiiees next to the bed, jutting lits head
or her stoni‹icli. He cries, softly.) No ... please, god ... no ... (A
fottg inomettt of riot/ring hut Seuiard’s soft, nc/ring cries. Then, Un-
seen fi Sward — Lux::f ’s efes oJien. She watches him cry, lits head
still on her stomach.)
LUCY. ( sweetly.) Oh, Johnny, don’ t cry. (Music as
—
52
here. I'm right here with you. (he ts lii.s head slowly, and, see-
ing Birr omen eyes — lie )umfis mach, aural.)
SEWARD. Lucy?
LUCY. We're all alone, J h
1'ly SEWARD. Lucy, it
can't be.
LUCY. Come here. (He does not move.) Please. (He stares at
Jim. T/ten, he aJljiroaclies, tentatively. Slill heeding sortie di.stance, li,e
tnlies hold of her umist and feels hey f ulse.) 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, frozen.) Please,
Johnny. I-taven' t you wanted to? have. (He continues to iierc
ct fret‘. She is u/ now, /iiierfing on f/te bed, leaning louiard hint.
directly, alluring.) Oh , my love, I'm so glad you're here. Please
kiss me. (She reaches out her aritis to his.j I broke your heart,
]ohnny. And I shall n ever rest till you forgive me. Please . .
take inc back. Let me sh ow you my true heart. (He slefis to-
ward her, arid it/i on //is eelge of the lied. She lalies /tiiit gentl) in
her ciaris — ciricl holds his /te‹id loriligl) to liet c/test. She strolies lits
so .j Th at's it. That's it. Oh, I've wanted this for
so lon g. (He nods, /tofdirip her more tightly, lits head slill tight
ngcii›ist her chest.) You were rigli t, you know. We do, cach of
us, have a secre r Ii Ie. (She bares her teeth. f — flea.Ii›iy /*t‹oe,
str lis
hideous f‹iiias, Init !! •k•• smeetly, seductiuel). He, of course, lins
not yet seen her /nce. And I want yort to know min e. So, please,
Johnny ... close your eyes. Will you do that for me? (Hr mods.
He closes lits yes. He bulls lits head aiuo} froor hw f/ieii. She /if/ii
hungrily.) Good. Now . . . hiss tne. (She is breathing /irnoi/y
,
to hiss her — Her mouth moves toward /tii heck, her teeth are nboitt
Io tierce his fl,esli, as — Van Helsing rushes in, followed lrf Hai‘lier.
Van Helsing tacliles Semurd— k•!!•’•g liiiti out of Lucf ’s grass.)
VAN HELSIN G. NOT FOR YOUR LIFE! (Lucy stands on the
bed, in ci rage, sec s e — Sinuard
lands on the fioor, o{fiosite — Van Helsing stands between llietn, as
’ Hammer looks on.) NOT FOR YOUR LIVING SOUL OR MINE
55
Seuuird o/ cut his eyes uiide, stares front, does riot more.) I'm rigid
— YOU SHALL NOT HAVE HIM! (Seward has noui clearly seen
t

50
I/tie hideous oersion o/ La cf /or the href time.)
SEWARD. My God — what has happened to her?! (Lucy lie-
ns to Men ft Jotan /roin the bell onto Vnn Helsili g.) Mr. Harker: the Coun I is somewhere in Lon tton, anrJ we shall
find his whereabou ts through you.
LUCY. fiE lvIINE! (— just us !!cin Helsing ro‹liices a l‹irge cm-
HARIJR. The nam c of the |ai operty, though, remains los t
cixx.)
to me.
VAN HELSING. As he burned it from your journal, so, too,
liicleousl) — cts f/tout/i on re — caught in the throes of a uicious he burned it from your mind.
i //icii . drop s down onto the bed . . . exhDustetl . elf in g HARIJR. I will find it, Professor! I am in your debt. \’oii’v«
softl). ... Van Helsing moves closer fo lie›. haulier hells Seward to lits shown me that I Girl see what I imagined — and, for that cure,
feet, us t/iq both watch Lu af.) I am ever at yocii service. (They i/in/ie Iranñs.)
SEWARD. \â 'hat in god's name has — VAN I-IELSING. Let us then be friends for all out- lives. (!!‹i»,
VAN HELSING. Quiet, John. It is leavin her. (Lu raises Helsing noui turn.v to Seuiarcl who rt•inains at Lu ’s be‹lsiñe.) Now,
her head, .tfomfy, eyes closed — a sad, l›rauIifun loom on her face. She there is bitter water we must pass through, Jolaia, before we
sl,oiuly opens Jier e.yes. The rnce has n,ow left her com/sfr/e/'y. She is arrive at the sweet.
her-self, once again.) SE1\fARD. ENOUGH. Either tell roe your rlaii or leave us
LUCY. My true friend . . . (Looliing at Semnrcl, s/›eu/‹zng to Van in peace. I'm through facing •r ken to as though I wci-e a
Melsiiig.) ... guard him from me ‹end give me peace ... keer child.
him safe, for he is my ti-ue friend! VAN HELSINC.. thou are a Brown man, is that riyla t?
VAN 1-iELSING. I swear on it. (Lucy slumJ s quietly clown onto SEWARD. Th at’s rich t.
llie heel. She Hoes not move. Long silence. A bell dolls, mournfully, iii VAN HELSING. Ariel no longer my student.
i/ie distance. Seiunrcl turns to Van Hel.sing.) That’s all, noiv. She's SEWARD. That’s rigli t.
gone from its. (Shence. SEUDTO l0Ol‹S d0uin Ot La ’s body.) VAN HELSING. And the man who once saved my life.
SEWARD. (Softly.) God be than ked, her suffering is at an end. SEWARD. Yes.
VAN HELSING. Not so, John. I’m afi‘aid this is only the be- VAN HF-LSING. \\*eII, Jo hn, our accounts are settlect.
ginning. (The men bath fools nt /iitu.,) \Ve must arrari ye for the SEWARD. WUat does that mean?
entom bm ent as soon as possible. Then, we must wait. VAN HFLSING. I have just saved youI-S. (8eiu‹rrd sta›-es at, /iiiii.j
I-IARKER. ¥Vait for what? She is the Un-Dead. The restless blood-lettin g coiiitir. She has
VAN FIELSING. There are stran be and terrible days ahead been cursed with immortality and must yo on — age after age
of us. I entreat you: have faith in me. And, if it be in your — preying on the life-blood of humanity, and multiplying the
evils of the world in an ever--widening circle of malevolen t
SEWAii&. For what reason? I t is I who've lost the light of destruction! Nosferntii! Scourge of Christendom, the Lords of
! my life. Lucifer!
VAN HELSING. Pity me because .L52l:now nifty. SEWARD. Professor, have you gone read?!
SE1\*ARD. But you tell us nothing! You test the limits of my 55
VAN HELSING. Oh, that I had! Madness would be easy to
sympathetic understanding. bear compared with a truth such as this. Why, friend, do you
VG' HELSING. (Apjiroaching for/iw.j Now, Mr. Harker, from thin k I've taken sucii time, such care to tell you? Kn owing of
the facts of your journal: you are in no changer. Nor is Miss your love for her, I wished to be gentle — but ir is no longer
Mina. This room, in fact — all of the asylum, will remain safe your heart which is at risl:, Jo hn .. . but your heart's emiisift?.
SEWARD. If this wild account be so, we are too late — is no more —
that .righ t? Her soul is already lost — VOICE OF DRACULA. Rats. (Anfield gradually uncovers liii
VAN HELSING. Lost, but for our daring. Following her ’ ears, a11d âffittifl. Ettsic, as — I/te fig/tt in f/ie cell grnditof/} btcoitiys
burial, we shall go to her tomb this in ‘secret to protect till blood red.) Rots, rats and more rats! Hundreds, thousands,
her- good name, and to bring no more of tier kind down upon millions of them. And euerf one a life!
us — and, on ce there . .. rue shall Urine n stalie through her lienrt RENFIELD. No!
and sewer her heart from her bod y. VOICE OF DRACULA. And CATS to eat the rats. And
HARIJR. Professor —! DOGS to eat the cats. All filled with luscious red blood — all
SEWARD. (Ouerlafifiiriqa.) What have I don e that you would filled with years an d )'ears of LIFE!
torture me so?! I will n ever consent to that. I will not have . RENFIELD. (Fever-islily now. And the DOGS? What to eat the
her too-young grave dishonored in such a way. It's unthink- DOGS?! (T/te piercing sound of a in/tip striliiiig flesli.)
able, that you, a learned man, would — VOICE OF DRAGULA. (his voice oi through llts cell.j THE
VAN HELSIN G. No, Jo hn. I'll ›'liom you the untliinl‹ahle. If you WOLVES! (Wolves hotel, as the red /ig/it tn the rooiii pulses.)
dat e join inc at her torn b, the nigh t of her burial, I will con- RENFIELD. (Licl‹ing ftii lili, tearing at liii clothing.) Aaahhlihh!
vin ce you of my plan. (Seuiard slnres at /tiat, at lights i/ti/I to — VOICE OF DRACULA. ALL THESE LIVES I SHALL GIVE
Remfield ’s cell. ten field sits in a tight ball on the ground. T/is c/trim YOU — FROM NOW TILL TIME ETERNAL —
is gone. An Altcn‹laiit enters, arid sets a steaming cu of liq- RENFIELD. Aaaaah hhh Uh li!
uirf in the cell, neur him.) voice or DRACULA. ALL THESE UVES AND MORE
ATTENDANT. Drink up, now. That's a good boy. (The At- SHALL BE YOURS . . . IF YOU WILL FALL D OWN
AND
ter dont leaves. Runfielcl stares at f/is cup. The slenm ours over, the WORSHIP lvIE! eld falls to lits lances, crfing.)
sides of the cu fi/ie fog. T/ten, froiti out of n owlirre, t/ie aiufitified VOICE OF DRACULA. Yes! But I will no t
voice of Drticula is heard.) stop there. IJNFIELD. (Covering fits eat‘s.)
VOICE OF DRACULA. Won't you ask me to enter? (Renfield No more — 1 am listening
i0 Ollfi, around the room.) My pa tien ce is wearing thin.
RENFIELD. Where are you?
VOICE OF DRACULA. I am eve vhere. I am rock and wa-
ter, cloud and fog. I am the hunt in the eyes of the beasts.
RENFIELD. I've told you before — (He suddenly loolis down
at the stenni fronting ft own I/te k He lintels and sfealis, cautiously,
to t/ie ste‹iln.) I've told you “No.” I will not be clamned as the
devil's accomplice.
VOICE OF DRACULA. Did I not send you the Tier? Great,
fat ones with steel and sapphire on their wings. And then, the
itiotlts — with the heads of Death emblazoned on their backs?
RENFIELD. (Noui rocliing back and forth.) The Aclieron
dia

59
RENFIELD. I am your servant!
VOICE OF DRACULA. NOW: BID ME ENTER! (All round
stojis, alrrujill). Fairfield talies a deefi breath. He lifts ffie cum.) RENFIELD. Ente
r, my Lord and Master. ENTER! (A crash of sound, as — Ren eld losses the steam
from the cut info the air, and i1 instantly becomes a — burst of sitiol‹e. Ligh Is fliclier
out, hriefly. As the smokr clr.at-s ... and the lights restore .. . DYOClflO IS Sloridin$ in tfte
cell. Renfield iriifatttfy f;rowels at his feet.) I have waited pa- tiently, Master. I have
waited with diligence for you. (Dracula holds a large rat in one of his hands. He
snags t/ie rat’s necli and syyen.est it north lvis hand, forcing blood to gush from it . . .
and fall onto Renfield 's mouth and [a ce.)
DRACULA. And great shall be your reward. (Instantly, m- other burst of sniol•e .
.. another fliclier of light . . . and Dracula is gone. Remfield cries out, looking around
for him.)
RENFIELD. Take me with you! Please please. Master! Take me! (Lights s/ii/I to —
llte guest room. Night. The moon, of rourse, is /ulf and proniiiien 1. Mina sits,
holding n neuis ajier. She rears

5’
the rosnry ni‘ouncl lies riI.’Clt. Marli ei‘ is J u Ili n g Oi3 a CO‹ll,! krefln rin g
to have.)
MINA. (Look in.¿ at t/tr uterus flaJ›er.) And here’s another-. That's
three of them in two days.
I-IARKER. h4issin g li lie the others?
MINA. his. A little 1 oy. Six years old. Found lost, disoriente d,
a bruise on his neck. Claiming, like the others,- to have been
snatched uJ by tlae “Bloofer Lady.”
FIARIJR. How old.
MINA. And on the day of Luc) ’s funeral — it's too much to
bCRr. (AfiJlroncliing I-Earlier, u›iIli great concern.) Jonathan? (I-ie
turns to her, his coat on.) You've not told me where you're
going.
I4ARIJR. 3’ou’re safe here, Mina.
MINA. That's not what I askerl. \Ve’re to have no secre Is.
That is our pact. (Peruse.) Now, it's nearly midnigli t, wheYe are
you yoing?
FIARIJR. I can’ t tell
you. MINA. Why?
HARKER. I've been asked not to.
MINA. By whom? (Pause, clesperately.) Jonathan, please —
I-JARIJR. By Professor Van Helsin g. He's assured me that
neither of us is in danger. But, Miss Lucy must lie 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 no t two hours ago we said our final
rrayers over her. (Harhw stares af her, them he tales tier face in
lits hands.) Jonathan, please — what is it?
HARIJR. (Quietly.) You must trust in my silence, Mina. You
must stay here where it is safe. (He hisses her, gently, on the fore-
head — then leaves. She stares off after ltini. Music, as — Mina
J›repares fDr bed — turning bach the covers of the bed; them, remov-
ing her dress, revealing a full white Slip underneath. Then . . . e:›‹:-
UA i t 0 e, Mina goes to the uiindoni and closes one
side of the dTopes. Then . as music bui!ds . . . the other. Nothing
jumJis out. Mina steps touiard the bed, as — The sound of a large
door oyening is henrd, accompaniecl fl music and the hissing and
raI fling of snalies — Mina loohs around lrfing to locate the sound,
ns — a door in the center of ll_Ie floor, oj» is; [or: light pours onstage
from nn firmiously unseen direction. J Music lniilds, as does the lti.s. -
rug and rattling. disc /urni, sees the door in the fioar, and
s she stands
motionless, staring at the light ouring it{, a.
/iOttd rises froTii Hie door nity reaches ottl fo her. She s I yre s, fyo -r n,
fearful .. . then she slonily u'af/ts lomarcls the light .. . teaits fixed.
She stops, emblazoned @ the ligmt. She remaves the toecu from ltin-
neck anti lets il slotrly fall lo the ffiottnd. § z reazl ez t gz f g| ›z
liolcl of the haunt. Music and soun.d crescen‹lo, as — yI¡nq IIzyz d z
into the opr.ning, and disnJ›perirs below [or: offstnge in thr. clirecIio›i
of the light]. Tlte door slams shut bemincl her, as ,nt/iir p,;J .soitn l
suo§ out not fill fs elm/i to — the Ref(. n efd, ,/py,iJ J-pii/ r,›,//,
the dead yes of an ouitna/. He retttnitts covered ratth the hfeorl /rori
I/ir rnt. He is bound at the anlile and jurist as before.)
RENFIELD. In all the great rounds of its claily course, tin:
sun rises on no life more miserable than mine. He has 1 s-
trayed me! And mark these words — RIGI-IT NO\\*, tui ri to
the pc•rson next to you and borrow a pencil, for I shall not
say this again: One should rather die than be laetrayed. Th ci-e
is no deceit in death — i t delivers precisely wliat it has prom-
ised. Betrayal, though . .. betrayal is the willful slaughter o/ /io/e.
(He stands, suddenly.’) IT Sf-IALL NOT SIT. {Lights sun) Oitl 0/3
Renfield, and shift to — Lu ’s tomb. A raised stone seJ›ulchre. It is
just before dawn. Van Helsing enters, carrying a lantern. He is fol-
lonied Q Hammer, who carries a large cloth bag in one hand, and a
Bible in the other. And, finally, Q Seuiard.)
VAN HELSING. Now, it is time. Now that the sun is about
to rise — let us look within. (Van Helsing and Hardier, using some
tools from the bag, prepare to remove the stone slab which rovers th*
tomb. Seward stands at a distance. His coat or cape is draped over
his shoulders.)
SEWARD. Never have I endured a more woeful night. Wait-
ing in this graveyard for hours. And for what reason?!
VAN HELSING. J hn, help us here. And may your eyes see
what your heart refuses. (Thy pitch//i/I the stone slah aside. They
looh down in to the tomb.)
HARKER. (Sofily.) My god.
VAN HELSING. It's as I feared. (Seward reaches donin in I/ie
tomb with flit hands, frantically.)
59
SEV'ARD. What have you done with her? Answer me! In this
; very crypt I saw her laid, and — (To form Helsing.) You're be- VAN HELSING. That's not her, John — that's not the Lucy
! mind this, aren' t you? And I, of all people — to you know —
not recog- nize iiiadn ess when it stands before inc! LUCY. Who knows you better, johnny? Who’s loved you all
VAN I-IELSING. John, listen to me — these years?
SEWA1D. V\*i th what malice do you lure the living to yoiir VAN HELSING. (To Lu. g.) Deception, nothing more, and it
purpose — ari d what glias tly plans do you inflict upon th e shall not work —
clead?! LUCY. I know oitr thoughts, Joe/i. (Lux — i/i/f ct a distattce
HARKIiR. Dr. Seward, cairn yourself — from Seuiard — reaches out her /iottd, as though toncliing one of lits
SEWARD. 0 erIaj›{i ng.) NTlAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH shoulders, and then the oilier .. . and, as he recicls to her “touch” ...
HER?! ("1“ltrre simult in cons somlUS: O child ’s 5Creoin, e loud rustle liii coat/cafie falls slowly fi‘om his shoulders.) I know your wishes
of hraii ches, aiicl the ltowl of a iuolf. Van /-feking listens, then sfietihs, before you wish them. (U., the huge sun can now ñ e seen, e -
justly.) Use. Lucf stands near the tomb. Seuiard steps closer to
VW* I—IELSING. You require more proof? Well, you shall lter.) SEWARD.
have i t. (Frotii f/ir dat li›iess, a Voice. [or: if ainfllified, the Voice clii What have they done to you?
come frown n clici ngili$ variet) of d ii‘ections].) LUCY. They've given me LIFE. Life eternal. Yours for a kiss,
VOICE. (An eerie sing-song.) Little boy ... little boy ... come Johnny. It's all yours for a kiss.
and see me . li ttle boy . . VAN HELSING. (A Choice at the rising sun.) Just another’
HARIJR. VAN HELSIN G. minute, John. The sun will be up and it will be safe —
\4'h o's there? Hide now — back away and o bserve! LUCY. You still want inc, Johnny, I know it . . . (Seuiard hrings
VOICE. I'm a friend of the children . . . I'in the Bloofer Lady Lu ‹y’s /iotid mirror froiti his fiocliet. He holds it in front of ltiiii
(The men continue to look around, typing to fitid the Voice.) ’!' flying to slioin Lu cf her own face.)
M'o n' r you come out and play? That would make the Bloofei- SEWARD. ’Tis not your beauty that is gone. ’Tis your soul.
Lady happy. (Lucy ajiJ›ears behind fliers, at a distance. She rears (The mirror ccitclies the first rays of sunlight and her.ts il clirectl
n loriff, latter-eel w/rife garment, streamed dorun the from I n ilh mesh into Lu cs 's yes . S/ie screams, trying to shield her eyes.)
#fooJ. At-ound /trr 7tecJt hangs General strittgs of children's shoes. Her‘ LUCY. Noooo —
fuce is coniJilelely ale. Blood drips from the corners of her mouth. SEWARD. Your soul is what I loved! Where has it done?!
Her hair arid eyes are wild, furious, desirous.) Answer me!
LUCY. Hi, there, Jolinn)'. (The men tttrn O?3d see her.) Want LUCY. No, Johnny, no more —
SEWARD. My love is become hate, and my desire — loath-
to be my little ft iend? 1
SEWARD. (Stunned fi her cifi!fcaraiice.) Lucy . . . (Haulier un- ,I ing!
LUCY. NO OOOOOOOO —
s/ieaf/i.s his knife, toying:)
SEWARD. I COULD KILL YOU MYSELF — (Van Helsing and
FIARIJR. Let me have at her —
Harl‹er /tofd Seward tach, as — f/ie sunlight forces Lu cy to retrea I/
VAN HELSIN G. (StoJJtng Earlier.) There's no need. The sun
/tt p into the io»ih, u t of stem.)
is almost up.
LUCY. (To $euuird.) Come to Lucy. My arms ai-e so hungry _ VAN HELSING. HARIJR.
ENOUGH, jACI9 ENOUGH. STEADY, NOW
for you. Be my husband, jolanny — come to me and let me
—
he yours .. . (Seward lalies u fen steps towrtrd her, transfixed.)
(Seward, exhausted, crying — collapses to the ground helmLtd the
ioixh.)
61
VAiN' I-IEI SING. I€eep faith, now. Ir's almost over. Soon you
will see her as she was. (To H‹irher.) The tools, Mr. Harker. HARKER. She is changed back. **‘
(14Iimic. burlier rr.snores ‹i l‹irge u ooderi st‹ilie front the bag. He heads VAN HELSING. No longer the Devil's concubine. SUe is the
il to Van Helsing. Then, lie lifts a large linmmer from the bug.) If I Lucy we loved, her sweetness and puri ty restored. (To Sewrircl.)
could spare you any of it, my friend, I surely would. !' Jo hn. If you will . . . kiss her, now, as she askcd. And let this
kiss send her to heaven. (Seuiard loolis at Voti Helsing, then lenn,s
SEWARD. (Not too/‹ing uJ.j Let's be done with it. (from a flat , down into the tomb slou ly . . . ‹incl hisses [the u nseen] Lit y. lii the
case chic/i lie carries in his Brecâf Joe/ter, Van Helsi ›f jirodyces ! * ' distance, Qtr 6r/f tolls a final time. lUicn this is done, Vc,i Helsing
“host” — a u liite, /to/) cotntnttxioti moJer. He breaks ii in two.) juts his o7wt aroun‹:I Se‹uard, c07rt/or/i7tg /titx. I-farmer li «s
VAN IdELSING. The “host” — the holy bread shall sanctif) moor.‹l away, still holding I/ie bible.) Nlr. Harker and I will finish
her eternal bed. She will take her rest with the angels. (He i u›o here. Her mouth must be filled with garlic, then her lieacl s.•.
drops the J›ieces of the host douin into the tomb, producing ‹i Attic/i - ered. One step of our work will then be done. What retea
burning/sizzling sound. He non readies the staJie abone her [unseen] ins is the greater taslc: to Iocate the author of these, our
heart. He looks at Hammer, who holds ifie li‹immer.) I shall place the soi’i‘oi‹s, and rid him from the worlcl.
point over her- heart, and speak the holy words as you strike. HARKER. Professor.
(As Earlier steps /omard, Seuiard s‹iy.s.’) VAN HELSING. Yes?
SEWARD. No. HARIJR. As Miss Lucy screamed, the final time, I felt the
VAN HELSING. Jo hn, we must — (Seiuar I stands, reaches out Bible grow warm in my hands.
VAN HELSING. It is the power of the Loi-d.
SEWARD. It was my hand that loved her best. And my hand | i-iARIJR. But this, further . . . (He holds the Bible onI to Van
that will deliver her. (Sewarcl lalies the hammer from Harker. fort Helsing.j A word has been burned into the cover. (Van I-Ielsiii,
Helsing nods, then reaclies the s!ahe. Harker lifts the Bible, and holds ’. ’ rind Sewarcl looh.)
it, pi‘ominently. Music begins, as — Vnn Helsing speahs into the VAN HELSING. “Carfnx. ” (!!cin Melsilig loolis usr at Hnrlitv.)
tomb.) NARIGR. The Count's destination. An estate here in Lon don.
VAN HELSING. We come in reace, for the sake of our dear VAN HELSING. You’re certain?
friend, Miss Lucy. May the Light of Heaven drive this wretched i HARIJR. Yes, I am.
darkness from her soul. (Seward lifts the hnmnier.) In the name VAN HELSING. Miss Lucy's final gift to us! (Me html /o
of the Father — (A swelling crash of music — ponierful and sacred ' s‹iuai d nilto loolis diiiroug/ti.) John, do you know of I.his estate?
— as — Seward drives the staler., and — u L c y s re amcs , l•ide’ttsly, (Sewnrd says not/ring.j John , what is it?
her hand tlinisting ut out o( the tomb toynrd the i/tJ.) And of the SEWARD. (With a /oo/t ct Haulier.) had we known, we rriigll t
Son — (Another crash of music, as — Sen ard drives the stalie a !' have saved Lucy.
second time, as — Lu ry screams. her hand noni bncli in.side the tomb VAN HELSING. I don't understand —
funseen |.) And of the holy ghost. (A strol crash o/ wriiftC, Os — SEWARD. Carfax. II n‹ljoiris f/ie n.ty/tiin. He has been, e.11 this
Seward drives the stabe a fin al time, and — Liz cries oilt — that tim €•, in our midst!
quief. In the distance, a bell, tolls tnotirri/tiJfy, beautifully. The sun I-IARIJR. Mina — (Coach of thunder/inusic, as — Harl‹er ruslie.s
has now fully risen. A long silence, cis t/ie men catch their l›reath, off, and a shaft of li flit tliscovers — t/te cell. in field — shacli le‹l.,
gathm their strength. Tltere is blood on Van Helsing's hands.) Look, as before — standing, eyes closed, /teorI looming to the. liecivens, in
now. Look on her face. (They do. Seward wines a tear from his sufiji fication. Sudclenly, Panfielcl ’s efes nt open. Me teat/ter hrnvilj.
rye.) His liead soaps dorim nnd lool‹s aI liii fouler nhdoinsri, feruetitly. I

62 63
strange, high-flitclied ioitttd is heard. Runfield begins to forcefully s
1 !'s low abdomen — ritu.ally, rliythmicall — witft /ii5 hands, say-
RENFIELD. Bird-blood ... feather-blood ... spider-blood .
f1 -blOOd — (Me oil s, then still rhythmically, his hands trove
helou hit ri'hs — continuing to frees, Jorce/ttffy.) Bird-blood
feather-blood ... spider-blood ... fly-blood — (Me oil s again
— and now his hands more to his throat, still pressing — his voice !'
growing tnors hoarse, more chohed.) Bird — (Cough.) — feather — i
(Couglt.) — (He bends at the uiaist, doubling over, lits hands still
on liii throat.) Bird — (Cough.) — BIRD — (And noni, a /rugr
’,› ooh — his face unseen to us — strange,
high-pitched sound lniilds, and — Renfield stands u{ straight, holding
soitietliing in f/te air, triumphantly. It is — eds
ne [bigger than we t/tin/i lie could have fiossibly sniallomed],
glistening iuilli saliva. He /iofds it ufi, fo-
cured on it feverishly.) The mat are mad so long as they are
; chained. But, loosed and afoot, are they the rampant, wretched
SANE. (He ifftnbs either Sike o/ tfie u›islibone, eerily saying:) Make a !
iv'isIi! (He snafis I/ie uiislibone, w/tic/t is accoi•k•iiied frs — the sound
of a huge free snnfjiing in loo and — ariother loud cracli of i/mil-
der‘. Remfield mutter-s his familiar "Yes yes good very good [etc.]” usr-
Arr the follomi›ig actions: lie ‹]uicltly fiuls half the wisliliotie iii his
nioitllt, and — with the other lial , lte Jliclis llty lochs of his chaitts.
He nishes to the door of f/ie cell. He tosses the first half of I/te wish-
bone amay — talies t/ie era from liii mouth and — uses il to
u.nlocli I/ie door oJ I/ie cell. He flings the door open slion King:) MA$-
TER! (He rushes froiti the cell, dis°k2•° ’•g i'nto f/te rtighl, as lights
shift to — the guesf i‘oom. Day. The drapes are omen. Mina sits, fully
clothed, on I/ie bed — readinff n news Aker. Her face is inoi‘e l
them before. Her- hair rrer-to figI/ massed. She uiears a sitiall,
d‹irk
srnrf aroi‹1id her necli. Haulier nushes in, o wlaJ J›ing Renfield ’s exit
HARIJII. Mina!
4IINA. Jonathan, what is it?
MINA. (With e lnug/i.) You assurecl me I would be. (He ii
slnrittg at her, Beef/iizig hard.) Why? (He hiieels Irf f/ie lied, talking
her hand. Mina loolis at him, ctttiotii. Jonathan —
HARK R. I want us to be mai-ried.
MINA. And we shall be. In Evo months. The plans are made.
HARIJR. (With a sudden urgenc:f.) Now. I want us to be car-
ried now. I want us to partake of the holy bread and join our
souls as man and wife.
MINA. (Gif/i o curious smile.) But, my love, why now?
HARKER. Shoulcl any harm befall us — either of us —
MINA. Jonathan, I’m here. We're safe. (He sees soitielliing on
the floor in I/ie rootn.) What is it?
HARKER. The rosary. (She reaches for /trr nech, [truly] exJ›ect-
ittg it to be there. Haulier lifts if from the floor and brings it to her.)
MINA. It must have fallen this morning, as I dressed. (He
puts if ai‘ound /ter neck, once more.) Th ere. You see. All is we11.
(Haulier looks iti her eyes as lights slitft quic/ill to — a silhouette on
Alina, as uiell as a shaft of light on — Van Helsing, sfieaking to
the audience. He /tofdi in lits hand a iuilcl, red rose. Next to ltiin is
/tis valise.)
VAN HELSING. As the days passed, I alone began to sus-
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
par-t of this secret is that she, herself, seem ed u naivare. A
stranger to her own transform ation. (Lights exfiand n our to re-
veal — the guest room. Night. The di‘ajies ‹me open — the moor,
looms, huge. Mina stands, looliing over some flaflers. She is clearly
ate. Var Helsing stef›s info Site scene. ALeo firesent are £larI‹er and
Seward.)
MINA. Thank you foi- coming. I shall waste no time in mak-
ing my point. And, if you feel I talk above my station, let the
magnitude of circumstance be my apology. This darkness, this
silence betwcen us must come to an end. We must work to-
gether with absolute trust, and, in that way, be stronger as a
group than we are alone. I have, these tlii‘ee nights, slept fit-
fully. I've heard noises in the dark, been plagued by disturb-
ing dreams. You have bcen in search of the Count. So, too,
I fear, have I. (The men looh at one another. the removes her scarf
from her necli.)
HARKER. (Softly.) My god ...
65
MICA, I leave n o memory of it. But the marks ai‘e clear.
Now, you must tell me: is this how Lucy died? Through some
maladventure involving the Count? Keep this /rotn one no longer.
(HarJier and Seward look at Van Helsing.) Professor? (Music, un-
der. Van Helsing looks at them all. I-ie walks to the windou› and closes
the drapes. Then, he stands before them in the room — still holding
the wild rose in ltis hand.) -
VAN HELSING. There are such things as vampires. They are
known eve vhcre that men have ever been. The Nosferatit
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 in to wolf or bat, mist or fog
— any form of nature which suits liim. He throws no shadow,
can be seen in no mirror, and f‘or sustenance, one thin g only:
the blood of the living. And when his special pabulum is
plenty — he grows younger, his faculties stronger, his ghastly
powers more vi tal by the hour —
MINA. (Holding her aecJi.) And to those bitten, his hunger
brings death?
VAN HELPING. Death of gooctness, yes. But, life eternal
amid the damned. Those bitten — repeatedl), as I pray to our
Lord you have no t been — become the very think which af-
flicted them: the disciples of the nigh t. (Mina grabs at Marker,
who holds her fig/i/fJ.,)
HARIJR. But how could this change befall Mina? She is
pure of heart, she is —
VAN HELSING. So, too, 1’m afraid, was the Count. I have
studied him for many years. In life, he was a man of the u t-
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 sfiealis, forcefully, bitterly.)
HARKER. You assured me she was safe here, Professor. You
gave me your word.
VAN HELSING. His power, to this point, has bested our
knowledge, but we shall —
I-lAPsIJR. 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. 1-larker. Dracula can
G6
do all these many things . .. but he is not free. He is shacl:-
led to the laws of the night: His power ceases — as do•s that
of all evil things — at the coming of the day. (He omens' lits
valise.) Certain objects hold a telling r wer over him: the gar-
lic you know of, the bread of holy communion — (Me remove.s
the flat case containing “the host” from his ualise. Then, ]›u1s I.lir.
case in his breast pocket.) The holy cross of our Lord — (Renioo •s
his large crucial from the valise. Me nuts this, too, in the pocliet of
Qtr coal.j And, the branch of the wild rose, which, when placed
on his coffin, serves to lock him fast within. (Anti Prying /iaurls
the wild rose to Mina.) He cannot — at first — enter any place
unless someone who dwells there bid him enter —
SEWARD. (To Harker, as accusation.) Meaning someon c let
him at Lucy —
HARIWA. (Similarly.) And at Mina —
VAN HELSING. And, roost to the moment, he mus t cach
day sleep in his native soil or he will die.
HARKER. The digging —
VAN HELSING. Exactly. That is what you heard ar his castle.
Boxes of Transylvanian soil being filled — boxes that are here
now, in London.
SEWARD. The ship's loy notes the Count's cargo as fifty
boxes — and just today, at Carfax, the Professor and I discov-
ered forty-eight of them.
VAN HELSING. I sanctified the soil of each — making them
of no use to the Count. \\'hen we find the remaining two
boxes, we shall find the man himself! Finally, these words
above all others: If we in this room fail, our fate is not one
of mere life or destir. It is that we become ns ñ z i, foul things
of the night — withou t heart, without conscien ce, preying on
the quivering bodies of those we love best. If we fail: to us,
forever, are the gates of heaven shut. Look now to your own
hearts, and answer: Are we to cower in the face of str ch ad-
versity? Or are we, as Miss Mina has so bravely said, to rise
up and liun t this wretch to his true death?! (Van Hel5 i,ng's e)v.'s
scan the faces of the others. Then, lie goes to the center of the rooiti
and hneels or our. hnee, bows his head — and extends the crucifix
in front of him. One one, Haulier . .. then Seuiard .. then, fi-
67
nally . lVina gradually )oizi Vaii Helsiii g — kneeli'ng near lii'ni,
SEWARD. (Urgently.) Did he mention his Master — did he
putting their /toitds on the cruciJx, forming O ci II % fl *'f*- Be-
use that word?
hind i/test, unseen to them . a /iond very sl_g;ul em;:rpes Jjiroiigli
ATTENDANT. Well, yes, he did —
the drones. T/ie han‹t {_a;-ts_ t/ie drates euer-to-slie:lath. Th'’s '°J›t•^' SEWARD. 1-Ie will lead us to the Count! Professor, come!
as Van Helsin,g sfienlis.) With a steadfast belief in science, a VAN HELSING. On‹:rseeing the transfusion.) I can’ t leave here —
fierce i eliance on faith, and the avid hope that there remains SEWARD. You alone know his mind — you alone can con-
in us light enough to dispel the darkness ... we pledge our front him!
whole selves. VAN HELSING. John —
I-IARIJR, SEWARD, and MINA. (Softly, heads toured.) Amen.
SEWARD. Hurry, now — there's no time to waste — (Van
(The hand vanisheS, the drapes foll cl0sed o"c° *p*!‘^ as — *^ Helsing turns quicftfy back to Harker.)
Helsing stands.) VAN HELSING. Mr. Harker, you must —
VAN HELSING. V'e have sealed now either the end of our- HARKER. Go, Professor — before it's too late — (See and
selves — or the death knell of the Count. Now, to our plan. grabs rite crucifix, as Van Helsing continues to stare at Hardier and
The remaining boxes must be found, and upon — (As lixv lino.j
is alteitiptirig to stand, slu: collapses !o I/ie ground, wealthy. fluffier SEWARD. Now, Professor — (Sew‹ird run/try ottt.)
gut clily taliys her in His Onus.) HARKER. YOU MUST GO — (Varn Helsing turns and rushes
out, follou ing Seuiard. Music builds. Earlier loolis down at Mina,
I-IAIUJR. She's no strength at all. (Sound of ss e J as, fraiii a lieretofore p yjinou›n directio ii /down fi‘oin the ceili rig?
hrlnnd the drapes. Seward rusli,es to llte window and lhrams ohen the through a panel?] — Fenfield aJifears. His aji{earance is at its mad-
drapes — there is nothing there.) , dest. He holds o benutiful violin. Earlier stares ‹i/ him, terrified, con-
SEWARD. Nothing. fused.)
VAN HELSING. Quickly, now. She has lost more blood than ! RENFIELD. All day and all nigh t do I wait! But — NOTH-
we imagined. Move her to the bed. (MuSic. Mina has noni coin- ING. Promises of bloody creatures teeming with life. But —
:' NOTHING. NOT EVEN A 4IEASLY LITTLE BL09V-FLY —
j lelely flassecl ouI. Earlier and
NOTHING!
Helsing rushes IO his bag, gioitig orders Io Sword.) John, make him
HARIJR. (OverlaJiflilig.) Professor — Dr. Sewarcl — someone
ready. I shall need at his veins. (Seward liegins to rig Harhet ’s come quickly — (Earlier is st›arised, till I i/ rrct I› tfic bl od I be
sle‹nie frotti ltis shirt, O3 — Van IJelsi'ng rushes to Harlier
to Mi.nci, u nahle to do cinyllting ahoul Renfield — who hers not even
blood ti nri.s{us ion deuice. Van Helsing and Seuiard quicftfJ noticed the otliiirs. Renfield tla9s n 9uic/i miniiie litlle flirnse on lits
arwts of tittn Ottd HafJter, ins I +^ needles atid hook up the I.ubes
violin wif/t ott i w — as lie sings Ilte notes o/ f/ie
between 1/tpin. — I-Iarher stares at all this in disbelief.)
J›lii“ase.) RENFIELD. I WAS TO BE YOURS, MASTER! I
LIARKER. Professor Van Helsing —
WAS TO
VAN HELSING. Breathe now and hold steady. You are giv-
SERVE YOU THROUGH THE AGES! (He throws himself to the
ing her the life which he has stolen! (Music §tttt@, Os — ittt floor, as lie pla9s/sings another quicli tnari,ic filirase on f/ie violin.
Attenda›ii ris/ es i› , 'of tag ‹s sh‹sttered fair oJ a0f' c/tait**. He - HARKER. (Calling o/) Is anyone there — please help us!
hells to Seuiard.) RENFIELD. I TRIED TO WARN THEM — I TMED BUT
ATTENDANT. He's gonc, sir! He’ s escaped! THEY DON'T LISTEN. (A quic/i slii.ft, bitterly.) He's nothing but
SEWARD. WHO? a wanton sailor with a cape. (Loolis to Mina.) He will keep his
ATTENDANT. Renfield. he’s left the asylum — promises to HER — she will get HER life — she will get HER

G8 b9
blood — because she is BEAUTIFUL — because she PL'LASES
HM — becausé he can SKEWER HER WITH HIS TEETH.
HARKER. (Ouerl•hP•’•g.) Professor — someone — in here —
please — come quickly — (As Renfield speaks,- the floor 6ctiraf#
is the door u hich opened earlier — bttt I/its time we see tote entire
ice which is, of course — a l,a›ge n ooden box. II rises fully into
the room. It is icleri tical t0 the one we satu in One. Renfield
Act
ing him instantly. fThe p°ofiping of a smnll piece of unseen ‘hu6éfe.-
nrrap’ in Renfield ’s hand can firodii ce the desired sickeni›ifi so Itni!.
J Slill on the bed, Minn screams. Harker‘ is li›ieeling l›eside tJie firm
non, t8eaher Hill. Dracula — nl a disfnttce /t-otn llieut — titl-iis uyi y
5/otp/q^i to Piso.)
DRACULA. Miss Mina, my beautiful flower . . .
MINA. (Breathless, terrified.) What are you?
DRACULA. (Afipzoaching her.) I have dined with l‹ings. i li ave
commanded nations. I have watched Time cli isel lines into the

PJNFIELD. BUT WHAT OF THE REST OF US? T or faces of young women. But, Time shall never scar you with its
THE GREAT UN-BEA U TIFUL MULTITUDES ? TTlAT OF US hand. You at e for the ages.
BORN HIDEOUS — BLESSED ONLY WITH HONEST DEVO-
TION? IT IS ITlO LOVE YOU! MORE TRULY, MORE begins to lift the rosary in Dracula ’s clii‘eclion, hitt — Drct ciilct i
DEEPLY THAN SHE! (H• s to i t Jr on it from her necli aricl li0lds it, n fierce looli in lits e)es.)
the rinlin, ns — the door o/ //ie box opens — throwing Renfield asir/e. DRACULA. Toys! \Vhy must you try my patien ce cvi th you i
Renfield stnres into the light J›ouring from the box. Mina iteitr/i on petty toys?! (Me fitti fs thr. i osnrf across //ie rooiti.) I'ru no 1on g er
ihe hell, also facing f/ie figftt. f-lz ker, growing wealth‘ fi“oni the con- the weals man you met in Transylvania, Mr. Hat-kei-. 3o ur lift
itciirf also. He looJis On, slioclied, Jior- of England has macle me stron g. §tti/e like i.I here. One confer,
ñ fied. Renfiel 1, still l olding /tis violin, lliroius hinise/ lo /‹fi l‹rtees.)
i it seems, retru'n again and again an cl n ever get one's fill.
h4aster, forgive me! I will do your bidding! (Mttsic continues — HARIJR. (Struggling to lits feet, still letliere‹l to W4inn.) Stay nu'a
3 )f3 “gps J'Oyn HU FOR /0f: eR- from leer —
Remfield ihro‹»s Jrtinsel/ at DRACULA. Mr . Harlem , please — you know how I pri?.e ci-
follow you, Master! To the vility. Another sound and I shall hax'e to feed her yorn- lii'ain s.
ends of eat't1i an cl bcyon d! Please, forte t not me, your servari (Harker gathers enougfi strength to ) ull lits Jonife fi our tfi i/trna/i.)
t! Forget no r I — who love you! Forget not — (As Renfietd f-MARKER. Let her be — let her be or I sly all — (D› ncula
speaks,
Dracula holds out liii ho›iâ, nsliing or tlte violin. ten rely, Jrneel- exten‹ls his firipers toward I-Inrlicr — liyfiiiotizilig him.)
Dracula .stands behind ten field.) I DRACULA. And, than k you for the use of yo ru knife. (He.
n ever doc bted you, Master! I knew you'd return — 1.1:new twist.s his hngers — cnusing the e Io htm tit Hnrli er's licenc!
you'd not forsake me — I knew there was a place for me in and 0 er itsel up to Dracula.) It suits my purpose. (Hr. /i/ii t/i,«
your kingdom — a laO1)' — (A linife and r.tits the bloocl lube — near Harl‹er’s aim. Me J›iiic/ic.s t/ie
end of the uio- open end. T/irn, lie setups his our.e — atin Llnrliei‘ col,ln j
/tiin. se.s to the floor. Out cold. Drnciiln, holding the blood lube, loolis at
Lorna
— iuho stares at li.im, ltorrifiecl — ft sedii cell.) All, sweet Mina.
to collapse . . Dracula Weir.nses hint. Drncula haztds i/ie violin to the (Mina tries to 'yoti/t fts é/oor/ Inbe (rom her are.)
Renfield. MnJefd looms up at DraCtfla MINA. No — you won't — (But one she ccin do I/th, Drcicitln
ci gen!le smile on his face, tlianliful to be snared ‹lentlt Its begins to sitclt on I/te oI/irr end o[ the tithe. Mina cries out in nri.-
Draws la ialies Renfield's head in his hands. Music fates donor. A fftlisll, th,en falls hacll on the bed, IttYitllill , lter strenglh fieiRqa ffrRiitCd
{zu se, then — Dracula n Re e d eh o e

70
from her. After n moment, Dracula drops the tit be. He gentl)› fnills

71
 t/ic end of the tube front Alina ’s arm. He touches the mark wtf/i liii DRACULA. Why, I've done all that I can. (Wsturing to IIaFer,
tigrr . . . and gently ficlu tlte spilt hlood from her ann. He is be- Nitta, and Reiifield.) Given i est to one, food to another, and
hind her on the bed now, holding her in lits arms.) heaven to a third. (Seuiard rusJies at Dr‹iciila, flying to JettII iJt?3O
DRAGULA. Yes, I quite like it here. The -men of England /root /titn.)
live lives of order and reason. Not a ripple disturbs the still SEWARD. LET HER GO — (With oxe /iniirI, Dracula grabs
surface of their complacency. (A wry futile.j But standing wa-
ter grows fetid, you see — giving rise to disease. The compla-
dnzed. Van Helsi n¿, holding the “host” in liii hand, aJ›firoaches
cent man is my puppe t. And his lover, my bride. Dracula slonily.)
MINA. But why me? Only tell me — what have I done? i VAN HELSING. The soil of your homeland has been sancti-
DRACULA. (Looking dou›n at her.) You at'e the‘ir treasure. You fied by Ood — box after box after box —
stir their dreams, leaving envy in your wake. All of them, Mina,
DRACULA. (A hideous growl.) Noooooo —
noI just your betrothed — riff of them desire your love. And
VAN HELSING. Your coffin-h ome h as been destroyed
now you — their best, beloved flower — are mine: blood of (Dracula stored auny, es Vine collapses bach onto the bed — her
my blood, flesh of my flesh, kin to my kin . my beautiful, mouth and face met willi fresh bloocl. Dracula stands near I/tt u in-
bountiful wine-rress. (He //fs liii /teod, revealing lits fanged teeth. dour. Yari Helsing removes lits ctvcifix froiti his coat arid holds it be-
He slowly, deliciously, /zi/es her neck. She cries out acliingl , and
gasys, hind /tii ñncft — museum to Dracula.)
gra6#iiig aI the bed. A beautiful, itiournful wolf /tomf joins the mu- DRACULA. You shall yet be song — each and every one of
you! My revenge has just begun!
sic. Dracula malls auiay from her, fyryathing heavily, sated with flleci-
i VAN HELSIN G. You've noivli ere left to hide —
size. 1Jiti‹i lies fi'ri{iy on the ted, eyes stiff open.) You are weak
1‘ DRAGULA. Eternity shall comfort me —
now, but here is strength. (He oJ errs /tii shirt and reveals his
VAN HELSING. Your time is drawing near- —
chest.) Her-e is sustenan ce. (He touches hit chest mi//t our finger.)
DRACULA. The cen turies shall be my home! ( ft‹iic huilds,
Here is life. (He slashes lits long fingernail across his chest, drum-
as — Van Helsing conlinues to n/aJt‘onc/i Dracula.)
iii l›lool, as nll SOA11d slofis, inst an fly. In coitif:ilete silence, lie
?! VAN HELSING. “Truly my soul waiteth upon God: from
holier ?IJiiio s hand. She rises, kneeling on the heel, facing liiiti. She
him cometh my salvation.”
loolis at his bleedings chest. She laolis uj› into lits yes. He s eaks, set y
DRACULA. Do not mock me with your FOOLISH PRAYERS —
so/tfy.) Drink. And be mine. {She slou›l) moves her head totoord
his chest. She juts lire mouth rtfi‹sr I/ie blood. She fic/t5 Hue !loo , **V VAN HELSIN G. "They consult to cast him down, they cle-
f ligh t in lies
sloiul with her ton ue . . . once. She foo/‹i u/ at / * . He nods. She
returiis her oiou/fi to /tis chest . .. and Storr buries lter [ace in f/tc DRACU . r TH HAS MADE YOUR LOVERS MY dACI-
‹com,d, ‹1›-i»l‹i›n the tloo‹l /•o›n his tod y. He t!›•ows !••’ !›••d °°
VAN HELSIN G. “But in God is my salvation and glory, he
oil/t f'leasure.) When I but whisper “come to me” — you shall
travel the ages to do my bidding. You will cross oceans of time. is my defense, I shall not be moved —”
(Suddenl), music returns, as — Seu›ard and Van Helsing rush rn. DRACULA. (Overla{ in g.) IT HAS SOFTENED YOUR
THRoA row THE HUN GER OF MY WILL! (Van Helsittg
I/trust I/te crucial in front of Dracula.)
SEWARD. My gocl —
VAN HELSING. Our theory is r•’oved fact — VAN HELSING. 'roR THELORD GOD HAS SPOKEN —!
(Instantl),! the stage goes dash and — {i/ $osiiéfeJ the crufifix bursts
SEWARD. (¥Vitli venom, to the Dotrnt.j What have you done to
into flames. Yarn Helsing stares at it, slioclied, as — Dracula’s ani-
them?
Julifred voice is heard.)
and seei the. oo roin ha
VOICE OK DRACULA. (idilh a cold deliciousness.) He has spo-
leen. But lie has not been heard. (The ligltts have not restored MINA. Oh, Jonathan. I am unclean.
in the room, and — Dracula is gone. Van Helsing rushes for the You must never touch me, or kiss me again, Such cruel fate,
window, tlirows open the drapes, and there is notliin that I am to be feared by you — Wei Om I love most of
flow reinaitts barred, seemingl untouched.) HARKER. Mina, I will all!
SEWARD. No sight of him?! MINA. There is poison in me — an insurrection in my soul
VAN HELSING. A hundred white wolves, running to the sea that will lead god l‹rlO\vs where. hut this above all mlist you
— and becoming, with each step, mist. Fog. Disappearing on promise me: that iÊ his influence ivins me, if 2tlTt so c hang•cl
the horizon. (I-Iarlier begins to aniahe, seeing — Mina, jes unit:Ie that I enter the blackest parts of the world
and become a beast
open, leasing limply against the heel, fresh blood on fier liEis and face.
Music and sound have faded doen, out.) HARIJk SEWARB.
HARIJR (I3ewildered.) My god, what is here? What has hap- Ncver — xo —
pened? (Seward gaes to min.) MINA. \\'ithout remorse — without hesitation
SEWARD. It s safe now, he’s gone — (Harlier is goSi?ind clan- HARIKR Do nO t Osk this of me!
ity now, an,d with it, horror. He rushes to Minn.) MINA. You must kill me! I ann infected by this en erriy —
HARIJR Mina! Oh, God help her, what has haprened? This hts blood on my lips, his blood in
my veins — (She stoJ›.s, iur/-
blood — is this mis handiivor k? (Pause, the men stare at him, he dent}y OOlttTt g Dt the, velns in lig z )
linus to Gerard.) Ari swer me! HARKER. Mina? « !oohs at Se «mi.)
MINA. jonathan . (Harher gods to lies.) Stay wi th me. MINA. Cl jjqy blood in his. (Tucis iiiclily to
Senaat.) Dr.
HARIJR I'm here, Mina (She holds onto flint tigfi/fy, jury- newark.
in g leer face on fris client. He liolds her in mis arms.) SEW . \4hat is it?
SEWARD. (Looliinff at the corfise of Eenfield.) For years I wanted MINA. Hypnotize me.
notliing more than access to the soul of a madman. Had I SEWARD. What?
but known MINA. YOll kn oW the
don t you. Lucy told me —
VAN HELSING. Amid this misery have w'e learned some- procedure,
. Well, les, but I
thing: Notwithstanding his powers, he fears us. MINA. There ii a way to know his plans and th us truck
him,
SEWARD. How can you say that?! sateiy.
VAN HELSING. He fears time! I-ie fears want! If not — why VAN HELSIN G. What ray is th at?
his hui-ried escape? The heart of our plan — the destruction MINA. Through h'S OV'n bloocL Through me. (hmm loods to
of his ancient soil — is sound! (Van Hels ng breaks a fl ece of Van Melding.)
f/ie “liost” nud drops i/ info the wooden box in 72
the zoom.) This box VV HELSING. Yes! We have been blind but Miss klim
here counts as forty-nine — has hel ped us to see. We, too, have powers — ancl
let them
HARIJR But there is still one left. now be marshaled against him. Jack, clo as she
VAN HELSING. And that, I pro ose, is for lraveling. 1 er let UtS knOW his though ts. (SemaTd stef›S D.
SEWARD. To where? Mina
VAN HELSING. To where else? His home, the soil he must
have to survive! (Mira puur her hem away from Hacker's chest — 74
Helsing mens to Harlier.) Mr. Harker, prepare passage for us
for it is you who’ve been to where I suspect we're headed.
To

75
Trans}'lvania! To the lair of the Count! (Huge crack o/ tJtundn‘. 1!!
SEWARD. He's traveling by river —
lusic anal wincl/rain nuder, as the stage marrows to — three shafts of
MINA. Yes, a river! That's it, that's the sound
licht, D. : Mina and Seward in oxic; Van Helsing in the second; HARIJR. The Sereth — I know of it f om my travels. It
Harker in the tfiird. As flip @ea/‹, the attendants/matds enter behind runs round the Borgo pass — (Ma lan and ti « are ri,ow at Van
Helsing's side.)
large cloth hag containing I/trir tools.) VAN HELSING. And to the Castle!
SEWARD. (To Mina, cotilinuing llie hypnosis.) Look now — SEWARD. I'll procure a ship and follow him on the water —
deep with in your mind — what is there? VAN HELSING. Yes, and take Mr. Harker with you
NIINA. Darkness, nothing more — HARKER. And what of Mina?
HARIJR. (To the audience.) And now, the four of us head- VAN HELSING. I will take her to the Castle!
ing east — aboard the Orient Express — HARKER. Have you gone mad?!
VW* HELSING. (Also to the audience.) I had the men write VAN HELSING. SHE ALONE can lead us! SHE ALONE will
their wills before we left. This is no idle precaution — take us to the heart of his crypt — and once there, we shall
SLWARD. (To Mina, Init no longer fiassing I/te pencil hefore her effect his demise!
yei.j Ariel now, what is there? The same? ' HARIWR. Not for tllC WO1‘ld will I let you do this! Not by
MINA. Yes. D arkness close at hand. A musty smell around Heaven or by Hell!
me — MINA. Say no more!
SE\VAIN. The Count in his coffin! It is working — VAN HELSING. She is our greatest weapon in this —
N(INA. And beyond, the sound of waves, still pounding and HARIWIt. Do you know what that place is?
pominding — MINA. I beg of you both — say no ›noi‘e!
I-IARKER. The hypnosis reveals the Count ti aveling by boat. HARIJR. (Overlttfi{ing.) Have you been inside that hellish
VAN I3ELSING. So, we proceed overlancl — by train — to den, where grisly shapes appear in every speck of dust? An-
i-each Varna before he does — swer inc, Professor —
SEWARD. Days later, and still the same — VAN I-IELSIN G. Mr. Harker, 1 —
lvIINA. No, there is a clianye: the waves have stopped. And, HARDER. YOU HAVE NOT FELT HIS HUNGRY LIPS
now, footstc ps. Voices — UPON YOUR THROAT!
SEWARD. lie’s i cached the port. VAN HELSING. I TAH I-IER THERE TO SAVE HER!
1-IARIJIt. And we at e here, at Var na, waiting for him — MINA. PLEASE — ("Hip slo{ atit lurti to Its.) he is listening
Sâ\\'AUD. Where is lie?! even now. And through me, he knows your every word. So,
HARIJI1. Seitrc hing the ship, high and low please, if you hold me in your hearts, say two more. From this
— SEWARD.Nothing — moment on, tell inc nolliinqc. (IVIiiia mover auiay info ‹i fig/tt, era-
HARIJR. But he has tricked us — rate from the others. You Helsing and Harli‹n staye at etc/i oilier.)
SEWARD. 1-ie's sailed to another port — ! (Tlvey turn ord VAN HELSING. Well, Mr. 1-far ker?
sfieali to one anof her from ffirir shafts o/ fig/tt.) WARIER. On your own soul does this lie. (The huge sun is
VAN HELSING. That is the risk of the hypnosis, friends. It full y ui’si’ble U. nOG. T0Tn this iit0inetti on, il r£tnaixs jiroininent —
may moi‘k both maps. I-ie may know our thouglits through Miss of. . It is not completely gone until ito/ed. The actor‘s ad-.
NIine — dress the audience once egain, as the — music lniilds.)
MINA. Water again. But, not crashing. A softer sound — SEWARD. We are on the river now. Air. Harker and 1, fol-

76
lowing the Coun t's ship
lvIINA. And the Professor and I by wagon, to the Castle
VAN NELS IN G. (Looming at Mj na.) bliss Mina's in tern al
str-uggle is unmistakable.
MINA. At sunrise, this weal‹ness in me — but then, at sun-
se t, this strength, this liuTtf,eT —
VAN HELSIN G. I can see the vampire taking hold
leer —
6^iINA. L4y mouth so dry. fly gums sore from the force of
my teeth, coming alive in my mou th
I-IARIJR. May God make us ministers of this monster's de-
T/tie sncred circle is further accented by lighting.)
struction — VAN HELSING. This sacred circle will lacep hinn ar bo
MINA. (i5!il,li gi‘ent feaT.) What changes are here, that my body should he escape the coffin. He can n.ot pass over- the hol;
›‹ elcom es what my mind most feat-s? (MI’11a 's li'gli I itzft s out — bread.
heading for shore ILPs. ThSeUINSOO*4E — (A»‹l, i/ i.i cnn — o omit-
noits her/i mootiligli t filling the stage.)
— do cking —
VAN HELSING. uic1‹ y! (Van Helsing reaclies a large stal‹e. an.!
VAN I-IELSING. The Castle now in sight ltamme.r. Off three tarii ow n or neal- the ’oo›.• — inside the ”.set-ed
I3ARIJFx. THERE IS THE BOX! c.ircle. ”)
sL akD. The wood en box being placecl on a wagon,
SEWARD. THE STAIR — HERE — (As Van Shilling finnds
hi tilted to a team — the dis- Seuiarcl the stake. I-Earlier grubs the /ioriric .)
ve riEi.SING. The Castle door reached. And, in
tance, v.a on approacl iny — vason ^/ h *! ‘• ’^' ’’' /intntner fo strike — strange music Flays, acco›iikanir.cl lrf hissi ng, i> I-
It eact — /ling and whisk ered l›reatliing, cis — the vixens af fiear. /z nd ›i o- i
HARlJPx. horses prociired anct we gi e chase, the last ligllt . there are threr. o{ them — /Htun 2s one. o[ I/ie_ip — tier hair ini'‹1,

VAN HF.LSIN G. the m ust take him in his coffin beforc the her fnce white, red lij›s cmd (aiize‹l teeth. The Vixens afl fromclv llie
men — trapning them inside the sacred ciTcle with the hot.".)
ligh t is gone — MINA. (To Ha›-kw.) Come to me, my love. Won't you come
SEWARD. \\'e ride at a fury, WE ARE RACING THE SUN- and be my husband? My bridesmaids iiave brought me to the
SET — stops — altar. (The Vixens hiss and coo.) — I'm reacly to
pIAnJfiR. At the Castle door his carriagc
may you n,ow. (The other two !!ixens reach and grab at Seniarcl ancv!
Ve i-lELSIN G. his union pulls away, and there Van Helsing from outside the sacred circle — kut they can't get -i -
sEwARD. There before his is the object of our- chase — (The side the circle. They win ce in anger and pain whenever th,p l'ry to
storm ma tes, //ir Inn sic fade.s, as lights reveal — the n ooclen box. It step/reach over the “most. ” Elisa ap broaches Haulier — iuha st‹inds
it/s on ri f ile of an cir.nt stories near the entrance to the Castle. The
near the for.)
\ I3ELSING. Quickly, the sun
is nearly gone — HARKER. Mina, it's not too late, we can save you, we can. —
HUGER. h4ina — (The men look around: Mina is gone.) What MINA. Now, Jonathan. There are no secrets between us now.

78 79
(1Vi›ia fii«!• •k ° !! n afar from the sacred circle. She cries out as O OO OOOO! !!!!! ! (Music reaches its zetiitli, as — Earlier drives
if bums her linrid — Unit she does not let go.) Here is the holy the stahe — once — u›itli all his might, and — a stream of lopd
1 reacl! If you truly love me, marry me now — shoots into the air for rt lmief moment, [or: a burst of red vapor rises
V.AN I-IELSIN G. (To ffarf‹er.j Away — back away —!
info the airJ and I/ten — calm. The light inside f/ts box vanishes.
I-lAl R. (Stepping Iocard Mina.) Mina — (Huge Inn-st of sound,
The music list faded aural. T/ie Vixens have disaJJpeOr£4. 0Tk£T,
as — Dr‹icula rises, inslanllq,_ from flu'. hox. The diverts reac/i inside
Yaii Helsing and Seward stand— exhauslecl, reIi‹rued, stained iui.th
the circfe arid ffraI fan Helsing mid Seuiard — ¡Ouffittg f/tern oul-
blood. Mina stands, •k•^ f•0n• the t7 her, looming at the hox. Long
sicle ihe circic and i‘esIraining f/test. Hat her, too, fcills ouHide the silence.)
c!'rcle VAN HELSING. (Quietly.) It's over. O ur work has not been
— his linife falling to the gi‘ound Mina Terrains clouding, facing in vain. (Earlier is looking across the diitonre at Nlina. Seuiard ‹ind
II racula — her bach to us.) Van Helsing lift the lid to the box and jilace il on the hox. As they
DRACULA. Come to me. Marry yourself to me. (lViria begins at e about to slide it fully into place — to cover the “head” of I/te
to i»alii slowly ioworrt Dracula. She extends lie›! ol›es• !t ** !‘›* box — Mina says.’)
‘rpytt of /ter — '@otttg herself” to him. Tlte tnett S/bout I/teir lines MINA. (Softly.) We sliould, I think, have some sympathy for
rom I/ie ] err Jlliety of the circa, still restrained Inf the Vixens, ififf !!•!
the liun ted. (The men stofi. Thru turn and looli at her.)
k ss.) I—IARIJR. 4IINA, HARIJR. Mina
DON'T — MINA. His misery is the sadclest of all. His soul, too, must
DRACULY. You are my bride. (iVina lieefis approaching hits.) be saved. (Mira stems an ay froiti I/te hox and lifts something frotti
SE\\* ID. RIINA, BE STRONG — f/tr ground. II is a nilai red rose.)
DINCULA. We shall travel the ages together. (Mina nods, as HAIUWI1. We have se nt liiin to eternal Hell where he be-
.s Jir ›‘eacltes him. He Teinai 1.4! *d!‘*! f ** !*^-1 longs —!
\ ,4N HELSING. “IN GOD IS MY SALVATION AND MY VAN HELSING. (Ooerlaflfiing, trf ing to quiet him.) Mr. 1-farker,
GLORY — (Mina is face to face with Di‘acula trout — her bach Eli// please, let her speak —
tp tts. Ne lalies her face ift /tii hands ‹ind res o l rr.j MINA. For someday, 1, too, may need such compassion.
HAPNJR. MINA, NO — (Pause.) Woulcl you then, had been so gu ilty, deny salvation
VAN HELSING. (Ouerla King.) “!MX STRENGTH AND MY to me? (Silence. Mina tal‹es a deefi #reofJi — inhaling the re -ance
IiFFUGE IS IN GOD!" (lMusic orescendos, as — Dracula and Tiuo of the rose.)
fti.ss, then, instantly:) VAN HELSING. (Quietly.) She's righ t. (Van Helsing pick tt/
D RACULA. (I›i O itunde outs, painful Page ) - Rat’/tors linife from the f;round.) Our work is but half complete.
AAAAHHI—IHHHHHHHHHHI-IHHHHH!!!!!!! (Miti« tttr i From
(Van Helsing stems toward the box with the knife, as — Mina reaches
D racula and Jiulls the hold ma(M TOWt her mouth. She holds if out her empty hand — asliing for the Vaii Peking stares at
ftito the air, sa ing:) her . . . then, lie gives Mina the fttii/e. She /iotidt him the rose.)
MINA. The holy bread! MINA. (Slowly, simply.) He must be to Heaven sent. (Music,
\*›m HELSING. Praise be to God! (At fire sonne inotitent — as — Mina aflflroaches the {tittcouerrdJ “head” of the box, holding
!!an Helsing frees liiliuself front the Vixen holding him. Seward otid “ the /trii/e. The men look on. Mina looks usr to th heavens, tlmn
ff aylter iTtsh i ii, aS tuell.)
clasfis e strongly witlt two hands. Music builds, as —
I-IARIJR. Noui — (Before Dracula can recover: Sinuard hot pushed Miti‹s ts
him bach doon in t/te box — Van Helsing has readied lhe ita/‹e —
ffte knife over her head. T/te oitt§fi cd voice of Dracula is heard,
Harher has raised the hammer, about !o drive the sfake.) faintly, distantly.)
VOICE OF DRACULA. (from lhe box.) NNNNNNNO OOOO-

81
80
VOIGE OF DRACULA. (A in/tis/rr.) M'ina . . .
t/ e — but as lieing Utl . (Van Helsing tahes one fi,ml loom nt the l›ox,
re
Vrije douin into the hox nud then in ozié lomp, strong moue then turns an,d goes, as — the bell tolls a fincil trite, and — liglit,s
shh. bulls it from ome side o[ the box Io the other .. . sanering Drncul i ’s fade to bluch.)
[unseen] head. There is a rush o( iuincl as s/te does this, tsh e oh
she has unleashecl a beat [orce. This souncl gradually ch‹inges to
a stro ng, constant vind, wJiic/i continues under. Music fades ai0a .
Mina steps back from the tex, exliausled, her d1xl lood . Resolutely, -
and with the last of /ter slrenglh, she says:) hIobv .. . and only now
.. . is our world complete. (Van Helsing looks at her. Nods. Then,
rh feae e lot w o s 1 d. Silence. Marl‹er loods nl I/uAic O7tf/ /2 /d uJ, Q — //¿d c([st — y} g p22¿{ pyyd j/
L4ina. The:f moue loiunrd each othe:r. She puts lies head on Iris cliest, Di‘ncula — entms. Renfield holds i/ie coverecl silve,• yl‹ittw
her arms aronnd him. He tools tlown nt fier necl‹.) we’ve seen earlier. Individual boer, etc., Then — ten fielci
HARIJR. The marks on your neck, Mina. They're gone. removes the cover, ‹incl there, of course ii — Drncul‹i’s sa-
Completely gone. cred hend/sl‹ull — garnished, of course, with mild roms. !.1!illi
VAN HELSING. God be praised. (Pause.) Anü may you now Renfield’s help, the liencl tahes n bow. A full compute hon ,
— Mina and Jonathan — be righ tfully joined in His name. then music under, as Renfield qiiiets the auclience rind s cults
(Mina and Harher ltold each other tightly. A c/itirc/i bell begint to to fñein.
toll, niournfully, beaulifull).) May these un holy hours serve on ly
to strengthen your resolve; and may the light of love vanquish RENFIELD. We ai-e, all of us, grateful for your pati on nge.
all fear. For nobv, and forever. (Witte nncl Harher lies, tenclerl , An d we bid yo u this one, final thoug h t: Th ere are darl‹
tearfully. Then, arm in cirm . . . thry tralh away and are gone. Semnrd imaginings in the world. (He loolis down al the head/sliull.) kancl,
is slouily gate zuig op the tools, etc. He loohs clown into the "head " thougli a foe — when vanquished — is gone from sight . . . (Me
of the box which remains iincovered.)
SEWARD. Gone. The skin, the hair, the bones, the very man ’ looks u}Ö et the audience, deliciously.) A jaar — oncc rooted in your
himself — (He reoclies into the box ariel lifts out a handful of grey mlnd — IS Jfiuri foreuer. (Renfield smiles deuilishly, and geslures ojfi,
ash. he lets it fall through his fingers back into the box.) — all saying.’) Sweet dreams! (Music back up, as — Dracu!• •t!f*e^••‘S• i*‹
crum bled into dust and gone. (Van Helsing and Sen ard slou ly the flesli, with a fiourish. Dracula lalies his horn, then yolni the i est
slide the lid o le l into place — ali th b x. The rose remains of the cast for — one finn • *k••y bom. Liglils out, as — must c
on top. Van Helsing crosses himself, saying:) plays the audience ltome.)
VAN HELSING. The God of light has emerged victorious.
(Semard and Van Helsing shalie hands firmly, with finalily . .. then
Seerd lifts the cloth bag and exits, slowly, as — Van Helsing turns
to the audience.) But, there is no joy in such a victory. For the
web of darkness is constantly being woven. From the ashes of
conquest is born revenge. (A distant befs choir is heard, as —
the bell continues to toll softly, beautifully.) And so we vow to re-
main vigilant. What we have seen with our own eyes, and heard
with our own ears, shall stay with us always. Not as memory

82
8S
[The following appeared in the playbill for the premiere of DRACULA a country) finds its perfect coinplimen in Stoker's
t
at t1i‹: Arizona Theatre Com}a:iny in the spring of DRACULA.
Stoker, like the greatest of playvrigh ts, understands that
1995.) the
mind
is constantly in searcli of order. We even Ot llclp but
make stories out of
whatever [seemingly] random information
PLAYWRIGHT'S NO'fk is rresented to Eis. We are unwi ttinQ COllSQ1EU tOl'S tO the art
of story telling. In this way, Stoker
I ivrite to you from the midst of an enormous shadow. It gives us the fceling that

is a slaadoiv cost by History and fate; legend and myth. It is I had a blast adaptin g Mr. S toker's masterpi ece. It was a
the sliacloiv of Bram S toker. thrilling, humblin g, invigoratin g experien de. As
I was wri ting,
S toker was a man of the theatre, serving as noted actor my friends ltept asking that my “take” on the story was. In
Llcn ry Irving's business and tour man ager for more than iTly aClap tatio n, they wouhei-ed, al t
did Dracula “represent?
teven tp-live years. I t is altogether ft tting, then, that DRACULA Anc1 tliough I was tem pted to
aerobics, I i‘ealized that, for my jo in Uicm irt their eso teriC
li›is found a home not only in book stores, kut on the stage. rurposcs, to make Di acula a
Even rnore so than tilm (cursed by its technology to always inetapli or"’ was clieatirtg. It a1‹in to putting a m uzzle on
was
} i esen t a hill rictui-e) the stage presents an audience with the the most teri ifying aspect of t14C story. You can hide from a
exact con undrurn faced by a reader of Stoker's book: pieces metarlior. A inetaplaor doesn't wait On tsidC your window nu-
ol’ a story; ft-agine n ts and clues, left partly unassein bled. Events der a bull moon. A metaphor docsn'
t turn into a bat and land
iiiv‹titin g a cletcctivc. on your- bed. So, instead, I took Mr. S toker at fiis word: Al—
Flosr of the characters in Bram S toker's DRACULA spend though there are o bviously many me tapliorical diinensions to
th c laettcr part of the book trying desperately — with the ab- Count Dracula, the «ctu«l heing is the most hauntiny. The ques-
solutc best of intentions — to keep secrets from one another. tion, then, is not wllat D1'acula represents, but what lie i
A
Their reasoias have to do with safety, honor, respectability, and brilliant, SCCILIC tlVC, fail ged beast ivaiting to suck the blood
scien cc . kut every secret buys the vampire in their mids t front yonr throat. Flide from that.
more timc. Evety evasion increases the iinpossibility of anyone S O, US the Co un t liiinself worth Say: \Ve lcorne
assem bling the totality of’ the facts, the cuinulative force of the house! has
to
inlot marion. Sccrccy breeds invasion. Darkness begets darkness. XCC Al CilS t. Th e clu es are there. The story awaits you.

It is this secrecy among the principal characters — lieigh t- Jl2Rt WIII liaPpen tonight?
cnecl by the lack of third-person objectivity, since the novel
consists entirely of pct sonal letters, diaries, and news reports Stevcn Dietz '
— that is the heart of the book's unique power. The objec- l5 Marcli 95
tivity so clesperately iieeded by the characters is handed to the Seattle
›e‹i‹lr.r. A transcontinental jigsaiv puzzle. A inyriad of disturb-
ing clues. And it falls to the reader alone to make the con-
nections between thcse events.
The tlieatre's intrinsic reliance on the imagination of its
aiidien de (where one flower can represen t a garden; one Slag,

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85