Dracula (Undressed) Act 1

"C'est l'Ennui! —l'œil chargé d'un pleur involontaire,
Il rêve d'échafauds en fumant son houka.
Tu le connais, ce monstre delicat,
—Hypocrite lecteur—mon semblable—mon frère!"
—Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal

"The 'technique of suspended judgment' anticipates the effect of, say, an unhappy childhood on an adult, and offsets the effect before it happens. In psychiatry, it is the technique of total permissivness extended as an anæsthetic for the mind, while various adhesions and moral effects of false judgments are systematically eliminated."
—Marshall McLuhan, Understanding Media

DRACULA (Undressed)

CAST

DRACULA: Although he is dressed like, and speaks in the Carpathian tones of Belá Lugosi in the 1931 Universal film, he looks a bit more like the Vlad Tepeš of history. Very thin, with a droopy moustache and long dark hair. He has a refined attitude when calm, but a barbarous one when provoked. He is five hundred years old. This is only dimly suggested by the dark circles under his eyes.

DR SEWARD: An aging physician with a nervous duodenal ulcer. He is in charge of Seward's Sanitarium for the Soused, a small family operation which helps wayward alcoholics to see the light at a nominal fee. One senses that he received his education from the best, most prestigious holiday camps in the whole south of England.

PROFESSOR ABRAHAM VAN HELSING: About seventy years old; squirrely. Dressed in tweeds; looks at his watch often. He is continually referring to slips of paper concealed in various pockets, transferring them from one to another.

JONATHAN HARKER: Recent graduate of Purley University, having attended it solely through athletic scholarships. First string rower, boxer, rugbyist, etc. He is painfully handsome: his supreme achievement in life is that he looks splendid in a bathing suit.

LUCY: SEWARD: Same age as Jonathan. A modest young slip of a thing, looking rather tired at the outset, gaining in strength and vitality. Demure and unassuming, she brings new dimensions to the word "refined."

RUTH THE MAID: Rather plain; dressed in a typical "French Maid" outfit found more in Frederick's of Hollywood catalogues than in real life. She speaks in a thick, incongrously Bronx accent.

RENFIELD: A former adjunct professor Emeritus of cosmopolitan geology at the University of Mid-Minnesota at Bemidji—now reduced to a slobbering, jibbering maniac, a direct copy of the characterization by Dwight Frye in the 1931 film.

MINA: A young woman in her mid-twenties. Lucy's former friend. Full-figure, nice-looking in a nightgown, considering she has been dead for about a month.

Various I.A.T.S.E Cats, A Cheesy looking prop Bat, one rowdy partyer, and members of the technical crew.

Note: this play is protected by copyright and may not be performed without permission from the author. You are welcome to inquire about performance materials and licensing for amateur or professional groups.

The scene represents Dr Seward's sitting room, which he uses as a consulting room. We are immediately struck by the awful state of delapidation into which the place seems to have fallen. Although it is obviously a room of distinction, the expensive appointments have fallen into great misuse.

There is a sofa, LC. Behind it is DR SEWARD's desk, haphazardly arranged with papers, inkwell, bookends, and such. There is also a semi-destroyed house of cards on it. A few low bookcases behind the desk against the wall have tedious-looking volumes in them, many of them looking like Readers' Digest compilations. On top of the bookcases are some thick glass jars filled with formaldehyde, holding medical exhibits of God knows what disgusting bits of things. Between the bookcases are french doors leading to a terrace; draperies on the doors are now closed.

RC there is an archway leading to the rest of the house. At present, the portières are closed, and we cannot see the staircase beyond. To the right of the arch is a small fireplace with useless bric-à-brac on the mantel, including a little ceramic teapot reading "Souvenir of Icking." A love seat is before the fire. A fine Victrola is UL, with the lid open and piles of records peeping over the top and albums of one-sided records scattered beneath. A nearby photo of Enrico Caruso is decorated with a bright lipstick moustache and spectacles.

MUSIC—not from the Victrola, but from the house speakers. We hear the "Dying Swan" motif from Swan Lake. In fact, the play gives us the uneasy impression that we are watching the 1931 Universal film with Belá Lugosi: but something is terribly amiss.

There is a gun rack near the archways, with several drab umbrellas neatly set in the arms.

Silk stockings hang from the chandelier. The ashtrays are filled to maximum capacity. One of the chairs has been overturned. Beer cans, pill bottles, empty whiskey flasks, cocktail shakers, jazzy swizzle sticks, and all the dreary accoutrements of an art deco bash lie carelessly strewn about.

As the music ends, we hear the sound of a motor start up—a whine, like a dentist's drill.

DR SEWARD is supine on the sofa: passed out. His hand is thrown over his forehead. AT RISE: he seems to be having bad dreams. HE whimpers and kicks his feet like a dog being chased in a nightmare.

RUTH THE MAID enters through the portières, with a practical vacuum cleaner—the source of the motor sound. SHE is humming a jazz-blues tune as she vacuums. The machine she pushes looks art deco, too: in fact all the fixtures and implements used in the play should give the impression of scary, bakelite/chromium-and-niello, inexplicable medical equipment.

THE MAID stops, and looks around as though it were too dark to see properly. SHE advances to the french doors, roughly parting the curtains. This helps a little, but it is dusk outside. SHE then flips on the electric lights, and her gaze, attracted by the hanging stockings, follows downward to the doctor on the sofa. HER shoulders slump, and on her first words, SHE switches off the vacuum cleaner, which groans to a halt.

RUTH THE MAID: Jeeezuz H. Keeryste. Another party. Another Lollapalooza, too. Aw, that does it. I'm applyin' for the day shift. This cleanin' up at night is the bunko.

RUTH THE MAID: The good doctor. I ask you. Seward Sanitarium, my ass. All the patients are yellin, "Where's the doctor?" ...and where is he? Là-bah. Stewed to the gills, as usual. (SHE begins to putter around him, cleaning with a feather duster. SHE taps him on the soles of his feet like a New York cop in Central Park) Come on, come on, pops. This is the night shift. The slop crew. Let's beat it, huh?

RUTH THE MAID: The last I heard you was Doctor Seward. The mild-mannered quack who runs this clip joint. All week curing his "guests" of the unnatural vice of alcohol. And all week-end boozing it up like he had two hollow legs.

DR SEWARD: You can never cure someone properly unless you know the horrors through which they are going. Ow! My head... I'll get a knighthood for this!

RUTH THE MAID: Uh-huh. Well, me- bucko, you've done enough research to...have a fizzy-drink named after you.

RUTH THE MAID: Me? Oh, toots, I could write a book. "The True Confessions of a Two-faced Sawbones..."

DR SEWARD: (His face clouding) Here's a little something, Ruth. (HE peels off a five pound note from a wad in his waistcoat pocket and gives it to her. SHE is unruffled and keeps her hand out, humming Rodgers & Hart's "I Could Write A Book".)

RUTH THE MAID: I could write a...novelette, say... (HE laboriously peels off another note. SHE continues without pause) ...a few color-supplement installments... (another note) well...maybe some postcards... (HE gives her another and glares at her. SHE sweetly tucks the notes into her bosom. A beat.) I don't know what we're talking about. Who am I to pass judgment on the likes of... yee-ou.

RUTH THE MAID: But that don't get you off the hook, Quackers. Can't you control your guests? What the hell were they doin' in here? Dancin' the Bamboola?

DR SEWARD: (looking around) Ye gods. It looks like the last act of Hamlet.

RUTH THE MAID: (dropping a beer bottle into a cleaning bag with a clatter, and picking up another) It looks more like the last act of Helzapoppin' to me. Look at this bottle. Dry as a bone. I suppose what's-iz boodle was in here already sucking out thelast drop. Er ... Reckworth, or whateveris name is.

DR SEWARD: Ren - field. His name is Ren-field. And you won't be seeing much more of him. (proudly): We've tied him up so tight our fingers bled on the ropes.

RUTH THE MAID: (looking suspiciously at another empty bottle): I dunno. I'd swear it was his M.O. (The doorbell rings. Curiously, it is a permutation of the "Dying Swan" motif.) Aw, if it's that Jehovah's Witnesses again, they can go suck eggs. (SHE leaves, through the portières.)

(HE takes a bottle of aspirin from his pocket, opens the lid, and laboriously dispenses two into his hand. HE then quickly guzzles the remaining pills from the bottle with a toss of his head. HE then quietly re-deposits the two remaining aspirins and closes the lid.) I should have gone into osteopathy. I could have written out better prescriptions than this. Icch. (He tosses the bottle across the room.) Oh, last night! (HE recalls, as if a nightmare...) ...Oh, I didn't! (He takes the stocking hanging from the chandelier, looks at it and hastily puts it in his pocket. Then HE recalls, as if a wet dream...) Oh, I did!
(From the hallway we hear the squeak of the MAID skrieking. Suddenly, accompanied by the sound of a right hook to the jaw, JONATHAN HARKER flies through the portières and lands on top of SEWARD. The MAID is not far behind him, entering and rolling up her sleeve, very angry.)

RUTH THE MAID: Okay buzz-brain! If I ever catch that hand on this rump again, I'm gonna make cream of turkey soup outta ya! (glaring at SEWARD) Son-in-law-to be or no son-in-law-to-be!

HARKER:(rising and brushing himself): You pay to have her clean up around here?

DR SEWARD: (tucking the money wad deeper into his waistcoat): Er... yes...

(SEWARD gives him a chuffy, fatherly embrace. HARKER holds it a little too long. SEWARD clears his throat to let him know the hug is over. HARKER is still loath to break the clinch. However, The MAID bursts forth from the portières again, grabbing the vacuum. The GENTLEMEN spring apart explosively. A beat.)

RUTH THE MAID: (amused) Huhh! Don't mind me. (And she leaves again. A beat.)

HARKER: (squinting—nostalgically): Ah, this old place! (Then, disgustedly:)...It looks like a locker room.

DR SEWARD: (casually sniffing under his arms) Really. Well. Problems have come up. I need... a little forgiveness.

DR SEWARD: (lowering his brows) You're a remarkable boy. But problems have come up. I need ... money! Did you bring any?

HARKER: Oh yes, of course. I trust you've been getting my cheques. (HE pulls a sizeable roll of bills out of his pocket and hands it to SEWARD, who immediately puts it into his other waistcoat pocket.)

DR SEWARD: Oh, Jonathan! I won't deceive you. I won't hedge any longer. I won't waffle. I won't keep you in suspense.

DR SEWARD: (lighting a cigarette) Oh, Jonathan! I'll not mince words. I won't lollygag about the maypole. I'll not doodle or dawdle. I'll get right to the jots and tittles. I'll be plain.

DR SEWARD: Ah, yes! Yes! (referring to his head:) Oh, my poor cerebellum! (referring to the room) It's dreadful! Look about you! Guests come here and pay good money expecting to dry out. My research is very delicate—who would understand it? It looks bad.

DR SEWARD: (his voice hushed) Well, that's only one pip out of the orange, my lad. Your fiancée—my daughter—Ms Lucy—has come down with a most curious ...disease.

DR SEWARD: (holding his head) Shh! Yes. Yes. I know. But it's deeper than that. Graver than that. It's a real head-scratcher.

DR SEWARD: A month ago, one of Ms Lucy's bosom friends—Mina Yerna by name—dropped dead. Right there, as a matter of fact. (HARKER uneasily moves over a few feet)

HARKER:(sidling over again) Mina... Mina. Oh, yes, the dollie who was... Wasn't she interested in... birdwatching?

DR SEWARD: From my observation, the only bird Mina ever saw was pasted onto a bottle of Old Crow.

DR SEWARD: (with relish) No: it was much too sudden. At first I thought she'd swallowed a bottletop. But then later, I myself performed the necropsy. I examined her body in minute detail. Inch by inch...leaving no stone unturned. Trimming all the wicks, as it were. Laying bare the very core of—...

DR SEWARD: Of course. But after that, I noticed something else. Her blood... it was pale.

DR SEWARD Yes, as in Pale Ale. Clear... Almost transparent... as though...

DR SEWARD: Yes, Jonathan. Her blood had turned to pure alcohol! Seventy-two proof!

DR SEWARD: Well, there was some little benefit. We didn't have to pay for the embalming. But that is cold comfort. There's worse, though. I'm worried that it's all happening again—only this time to my daughter—your fiancée—Ms Lucy! And there's nothing I can do to stop it! (HE sobs, and pulls out what he assumes to be a handkerchief but which is the stocking he had taken from the chandelier.)

DR SEWARD: (turning his back to HARKER) Now you know. Do you have any idea how much it will cost to get proper medical care?

DR SEWARD: No, no! (takes the fiver) A learnèd friend of mine, who owes me a favor, is arriving soon. I have great hope that he—

DR SEWARD: (taking some pills) They don't know what to make of it. I ... I haven't seen them—professionally—in ages. Except Renfield. But you'll learn about him soon enough. A sad case, that. Oh, what a hangover! I was blown away at two-thirty. And they were up until... oh, probably sun-up. All day they sleep and sleep, and all night they party and party. And I—

DR SEWARD: (matter-of-factly) Ms Lucy, a few patients, and our new neighbor... Count Dracula.

DR SEWARD: Until recently you've been too busy, what with your Rugby Tea-Dances and the whole schedule of cricket luncheons...

HARKER: You mean for the bi-regional semi-finals...? Those were important! I'd say critical to the whole division!

DR SEWARD: Yes, I know. But I hope it isn't too late. I've sent for you now in the hopes that the sight of you will restore her. I give her sedatives to slow her down, but it's no use. Drugs have no effect. They go through her like shit through a tin goose.

(RUTH THE MAID enters again, with her feather duster. She starts to clean the bottles up, tossing them into a dustbin.) Speaking of which...

RUTH THE MAID: (singing to herself) Come away with me Lucille, In my Merry Oldmobile...

DR SEWARD: Oh, if it weren't for the Count, I don't know what I'd do. (jollily): He's so helpful! (RUTH turns and gives a mysterious, prolonged wolf-whistle, then turns back to work. SEWARD scowls, ignores her, then continues) He stays up with her... catering to her wild derisions...mixing her his homoeopathic remedies...making sure she doesn't walk off the balcony during her all-night bacchanales...

HARKER: (brightly adding 2+2) Hey, doc. If she's sick, then is her blood...

HARKER: Oh, no! ...Red?... (SEWARD shakes his head "no" after each stage of the litany) ...Orange-red? ...orange?... canteloupe? ...goldenrod? ...chicken-soup?...tawny-brawny?... lemonade? Pantone swatch #165?

DR SEWARD: (by the Victrola) No. A distinct bright tint of yellow. A clearish, lacquery, gummy, beery, pissy yellow. And it has affected her in this manner: all day she sleeps. Then all night: all she wants to do is her...(with real disgust, as he picks up a record): hootchie- kootchie and a'hot-cha- cha.

(Suddenly, outside we hear the VOICES of stage-hands imitating the sound of CATS miyaowing. If there are IATSE members performing this, there should be an elaborate mention of the fact in the program that this has been arranged at great expense, between a joint venture of their union and the Actor's Guild)

HARKER: Gotz! Listen to that! It must be every cat in the neighbourhood! And twenty miles from London! You'd think Purley was one big rubbish heap!

DR SEWARD: That's extraordinary. That's the same thing Count Dracula said yesterday.

HARKER: (even more suspicious) You have a rather peculiar admiration for this—foreigner, I presume?

DR SEWARD: I don't know where he's from. Accent sounds very peculiar. I thought he said he was...Canadian.

(RUTH ceases cleaning and rushes to the window with some beer bottles. SHE opens the french doors and throws them out. Smashing sound of bottles. The CAT noises stop.)

RUTH THE MAID: Shadddap!! ...Sorry doc. I'm tellin' ya, if these wild parties keep up I'm quittin'. The dustbin's always full of nothing but cans and bottles. And that wild man's always jumpin' in the middle of the pile like they was autumn leaves.

DR SEWARD: I started to tell you. It's Renfield. He'll go to any lengths to suck the last few drops from warm beer bottles, thinking it will prolong his life.

(A HAND appears at the portières. The curtains slowly part, revealing RENFIELD, laughing like Dwight Frye...)

DR SEWARD: You looney-tune! How did you get out? (SEWARD yells out the doorway.) Worthibutter! Worthibutter! Get down here! Aw! Renfield! You just wait. (HE chases RENFIELD round and round the sofa) How you keep escaping I'll never know. But I cannot have this jocose ribaldry impinging on the gossamer slumber of my daughter! You wait. We'll boil your bottom when Professor Van Helsing gets here!

RENFIELD: Ha! More quacking ducks, just like you, doctor! (HE suddenly turns his attention to the french doors, as though hearing something) I hear you! I hear you! (The phony cat noises start again, as RENFIELD opens the doors, goes out onto the terrace, and hops onto the balcony, screeching:) Miyaow!!

DR SEWARD: No, he was the adjunct professor of cosmopolitan geology at one of the very best schools (NOTE: if this is being played at a college, feel free to name either the school or its reval nemesis). Brilliant man, he was. Then they made him go into administration. Went down the tubes in two weeks.

(WORTHIBUTTER enters, cutting all sorts of capers, doing double takes, performing splits, etc. like a silent movie clown. Although we know what he's saying, it's not the sounds coming out of his mouth which give us the main clue.)

WORTHIBUTTER Szawry doctor! 'ees off 'iz bleumin' chump ee is! Gar well blymie ga yve me a bleedin...

(WORTHIBUTTER drags RENFIELD back in the room, heists him over his shoulders. As RENFIELD passes the MAID, HE grabs a beer bottle from her and begins sucking on it. RUTH THE MAID takes it from him and as he passes by, pats him on the butt.)

(RENFIELD burps like a baby. As he goes out the door, he waves bye-bye. WORTHIBUTTER is continually muttering cockney gibberish all the while. RUTH follows them out with the dustbin.

HARKER: Extraordinary. (beat) Whom were you referring to before... Van Helsing—Professor Van Helsing? I think I know him.

HARKER: The Transcaucasian Casino. I think. The only man I know who could win 18,000 francs playing a ten-hour heat of "go-fish." Can't wait to see him again. But I didn't know he was a professor. I only thought they called him that.

DR SEWARD: (lighting a cigarette) Oh, yes. Another sad case. He worked on the most brilliant doctoral thesis I've ever read: on Bibliohematology: concerning the perfect confluence between red corpuscles in healthy blood and the arrangement of the Dewey decimal system.

(During the following, SEWARD starts to tidy the room a little; HE straightens his desk up with the precision of a man obsessed. HE takes out a 1920's version of deodorant from the drawer and douses himself, as well as any other fussy bits of ablutive business. However, HE lets cigarette ashes fall where they may.)

DR SEWARD: I don't expect you to understand. But he took a great risk in writing that work. He was about to submit it to the Provost...when...

DR SEWARD: He left it in the back seat of a taxi. For months he was distraught. I decided to help him find it. Many a long evening I spent searching... in cabs, hansoms, phaetons, barouches and snappy gigs—at his expense—frequenting the nasty, ill-smelling places where cabbies insist on debauching themselves. Finally... I found it!

DR SEWARD: Yes, hanging by a thread—in the men's washroom of a dreary pub: The Reluctant Duck. Terrible lager. In any case, after downing a few quick ones, I brought the manuscript back and presented it to Van Helsing. He was so grateful he said: "I owe you a lot for this." And he swore a blood oath that he would repay me. Then he gave me the manuscript for safekeeping.

DR SEWARD: (picking up a newspaper and ripping off the back page headline) Well, there are other favours I've done for him. Besides, he owes me. He said so. Despite what happened afterward.

DR SEWARD: Now he has wandered the world, discovering a whole pot of new information... struggling against the odds...throwing his winnings on one turn of pitch-and-toss. He is a true servant of humanity... Publishing monographs on pet cemeteries...national sororites...spoon-bending... and even Vampires!

HARKER: (jumping a foot or two in the air) Vampires???? Oh, ho! That's nothing but a bunch of third-hand mediæval hogsplatter, isn't it, Doc?

HARKER: I can't believe all this, Doctor! My Lucy! Why, last time we went out stepping, she said she had to be home five-thirtyish to finish practicing her baton-twirling!

DR SEWARD: (rolling his eyes) You may not recognize her. Courage, lad! Do you wish to see her now?

(HARKER, very embarrassed, looks at SEWARD a moment. His face goes all red. Then, sheepishly, HE delves into his pockets, and a number of curious things come out: 5 packs of cigarettes, matches, lighters; a bottle of cheap wine; three bags of beer nuts, a can of tuna fish, and a string of condoms.)

DR SEWARD: Is that it? Come on, you're going into a lady's boudoir, you know. Unescorted. (HARKER reaches in once more and pulls out a little thermos with "Prom Queen" or something like it enameled onto the sides.) What's in that?

DR SEWARD: Oh, all right. Wait. (HE suspiciously uncorks the thermos; sniffs at it and peeps down the neck. HE recorks it and gives it back to HARKER, who tries to leave but is kept back by SEWARD's eternal litanies.) There you go. God bless you. Go ahead. Upstairs. Second level. Fifth bedroom, third door to your right. Just beyond the commode.

(HE exits. SEWARD staggers around, heading for center stage, and looks as though he's about to give another drearily long soliloquy. The lights dim and a SPECIAL comes up on him. HE sighs, and then inconguously throws his shoe at the Victrola, which begins to play a plaintive violin tune, as though movie soundtrack music. HE sighs again.)

The world is filled with chewing worms:
We've got to work on better terms.
I can't live through another night;
Who can take away this blight?
My daughter's blood is turning pale:
God: send some fivers in the mail!

(The doorbell rings. SEWARD seems disturbed.) Oh, I should have gone into opthamology: I wouldn't get all these interruptions! (looks up, to the flies): All right, cut it. Later, ok? (The SPECIAL goes out; the lights come back up) Ruth! Get the door! Get the— (HE rushes to the portières and parts them, and is suddenly faced with the figure of PROFESSOR ABRAHAM VAN HELSING, who drops his valise on the floor with a resounding thwump, raises his umbrella and smiles broadly.)

VAN HELSING: (rather like an auctioneer) Howdy! I'm a-comin' here to cure you of all ills including the ague, chillblains, creepin' paralysis, toe-rot and shriveling of the procreative members! I'll also sweep clean the neighborhood of undesirable figments such as your filching profiteer, your cadging greengrocer, various ticks, roaches and vampires! (like a Coda): And I gettum all... I bet-t-t- tcha!

DR SEWARD: (indicating the gun rack) Oh! Sorry. Just put it there. It's been all these years.

VAN HELSING: (removing his coat) Well, I'm delighted to come. You did me that favor once. Besides, I owe you.

VAN HELSING: But you've helped in so many other ways, too. Your suggestion last month was a peach. It reaped a hundredfold! In fact, a hundred fifty-eight to one!

(SEWARD pulls out the newspaper headline, showing a horse coming into a photo-finish)

VAN HELSING: Aw, I thought so. Crap! (and he tears up a few colored tickets, scattering them in the air like confetti. SEWARD makes VAN HELSING at home, seating him before the fire, plumping his pillow, etc.) Now tell me more of what you told me on the phone. You said your daughter's friend—died? (SEWARD nods) And now Ms Lucy. How did it all begin?

DR SEWARD: (lighting a cigarette) Ghastly! One night Ms Mina... stayed up til dawn. Doing all the latest steps: The turkey-trot... The Castle-Walk... the Maxixe...the Guaracha-cha ...the bossa-nova... the Clamity Drag... the Flattened Egyptian...

VAN HELSING: (knowing how long this can go on—in fact, meaning "don't go on"): Yes—go on.

DR SEWARD: And this went on every night. Up on the Steinway...click click click... exposing her animated ankles... her creamy calves... her nude neck... her thick thighs... her shifty shoulders, all glowing in the hot, pinky light of the candelabra... (HE is lost in a reverie)

VAN HELSING: (snapping him out of it) I see! Yes, yes Herr Doktor! A very similar case happened just outside Glasgow about three hundred years ago. Very sad. The good people of Barcchamaahach na-Clacchenach reeled... and rocked—around the clock! Displaying unheard of licentiousness! Until they all dropped dead from it.

DR SEWARD: (stubbing out his cigarette; recognizing the symptoms) Yes! Yes.

VAN HELSING: In the end, all they found were eight hundred empty wine-skins of all sizes... forty-six hogsheads of cheap vermouth... a split of Spumante... and nothing but skeletons...

VAN HELSING: There is an obelisk marking the spot to this day. Every Whitsuntide the good women of the village sit on it, in effigy.

VAN HELSING: It's a sixty-to-one long shot, but with God on our side, we are sure victors. Now: there is one thing I must know about Ms Lucy. Have you seen any strange markings on her throat?

DR SEWARD: Well, now that you mention it... yes. She's got these two big —hickeys. Right here. At least I think they're hickeys. But where she—

LUCY: (off: upstairs, very angry) What??? You used to always have a whole bunch with you!!

VAN HELSING: (rising and listening) There seems to be a small... debâcle in progress...

DR SEWARD: That's my daughter. And her fiancé. I sent him up hoping she would be brought back to her senses. But—I see... Oh, professor! She used to be first in line with her milk money... bright, carefree, cherub-faced... valedictorian.. the teached used to entrust her with the key to the little cupboard where the fish-food was kept. Never a cross word crossed her pearly-white, eight-thousand-pounds-ten-shillings to straighten teeth. And now...

HARKER (off) Anything but that! Look ... just one hand ... slid carefully over your chemise...

LUCY (off) Aw, just slide outta here, woudja? And the the rock you crawled out from under with you!

VAN HELSING: Remarkable. (He pulls out a notebook and makes some comments; then he walks over to SEWARD's desk, upon which are HARKER's effects, which he pokes at with a pencil.) Tell me. Has she persuaded her fiancé to bring her any unusual... gew-gaws?

DR SEWARD: No. All that belongs to him. Jonathan Harker. He always carries it around. Very impressive at a fraternity smoker, but I doubt he's ever used any of it.

DR SEWARD: Er... yes. He has a great deal of money, but doesn't know how to use it. The whole family is going down the drain, Professor. Look. (HE picks up a tin can of beer and reads off the label): Shop-Rite beer.

DR SEWARD: (very embarrassed) Oh, that's not the half of it. (He picks a bottle off the mantel). They even have a bottle of Bahama-Mama. This can't go on!

HARKER: Doctor! Doctor! I've failed! I hardly knew her! (HE sees VAN HELSING): Ah, Professor! It is you! We meet again!

VAN HELSING: Johnny! I hardly knew it was you... although from the sound of things, I might have guessed. Listen to me carefully. You know I will not lie! Already I feel a strange power overshadowing us... something... stinky.

VAN HELSING: Do not be so quick to pooh-pooh. I have seen many a good man stumble, from ascribing to faulty assumptions.

DR SEWARD: But I have seen many more men staunchly defend these wild derisions and founder in the surf of their own blather!

VAN HELSING: (lost) Yes... er... perhaps if I examine Ms Lucy a little more closely.

(Enter LUCY SEWARD, dressed in a pink dirndl of sorts, with long strings of pearls slung from her neck, and a scarf around her throat. SHE has distinctive bags under her eyes, but nonetheless is very attractive. She holds a bottle of Wild Turkey in her hands, which has about one gulp left.)

DR SEWARD: This, Lucy, is Professor Van Helsing, from Helsinki. I told you about him.

LUCY (swigging; to VAN HELSING): Hey, pops. (to SEWARD): Does he know how to cut a rug? Can he scalpitate? Is he copacetic? Is he as good as Dracula?

VAN HELSING: (astonished) Drac... Dracula??? What do you know of—Dracula?

DR SEWARD: Oh, he's just one of her friends. One of her rich friends. He stays up with her at nights during her debauches to make sure she doesn't hurt herself.

VAN HELSING: Dracula. From Son of Dracul... Vlad Tepeš [which is pronounched Tsep-pesh] ...the little impaler... Nosferatu... the Vampire!

VAN HELSING: Vlad Tepeš used to force long oiled poles into the rectums of his victims. Then he would stand them up, letting the poles rip through the flesh. Inch by inch... hour by hour... Some of them liked it and some of 'em didn't.

(EVERYBODY gulps uneasily. HARKER brushes an invisible speck of dust from the tail of his jacket.)

(SHE goes over to the crank-up Victrola and puts on a thick, one-sided platter. SHE cranks it up and we hear Mischa Ellman's delicate violin rendition of "Humoresque.") Whoo! Lay it on, Mama! (SHE begins to gyrate to it as though it were acid rock: tossing her hips, doing the fruug, the canoe, the funky chicken, the mashed potato, the hitchhiker, etc.) Comeon, baby! Crank it! Crank it! (SHE pulls out the volume knob) Oh, yeah, Anton baby!

VAN HELSING: (cleaning his steamed-up glasses) We may already be too late.

(HARKER throws himself at LUCY's feet; but since she moves around so much, he has to crawl about to keep up with her.)

HARKER: (barking) Lucy! Lucy! Lucy! What ever happened to those calm, uneventful nights on Dover Beach? Whatever happened to wearing three pairs of woolen knickers? You were chaste!

LUCY: (reflecting: stopping momentarily) I'm still chased. Men chase me as fast as they can run!

RENFIELD: (off) Eh, he-heh, he-heh, he-heh, heh...
(RENFIELD enters. He has a wild look on his face, with a wide shit-eating grin.)

DR SEWARD: Renfield! You're supposed to be dangling by your thumbs! What are you doing here?

RENFIELD: I came to see how the better half lives.... So this is the Cure-All, and Be-All, and the End-All.
(VAN HELSING nods imperially. RENFIELD mimicks him and bows like a samurai.) You know, Doctor... your methods here are the finest in all of England... (HE starts to cross the stage, heading for a bottle that the maid forgot to pick up.) The nurses here are pretty little things... can administer the finest hot-oil enemas this side of Bletchley. But there is one thing we have not had in years, you know... and we ought to get it.

VAN HELSING: This is extraordinary. I've never seen this done with Shop-Rite before.

DR SEWARD: How he gets loose I'll never know! Oh, I should have gone into podiatry! Then I wouldn't have to look at your ugly mug!

(WORTHIBUTTER enters, sees RENFIELD:, tears at his hair in the Grand Manner, and does a double take.)

WORTHIBUTTER (explaining, as he prepares) Ye'see, guv, me anna missus 's 'avin ourseles a little nipper in the pantree...and Oi wuz jes tuppin up the bawdle when this hann' comes in, gwabbin' in fumm me, and stahrs laaahfin...eh, eh! eh eh!

DR SEWARD: (fearsomely bored) All right, Worthibutter. All right. Now get him out. If he shows any signs of... you know... then... you know.

(Suddenly the french doors open mysteriously, and a large BAT with glowing red eyes flies into the room. This bat should give the impression that it is the collective and disparite efforts of a fourth grade class project. ALL except RENFIELD and LUCY are appalled.)

HARKER: Eeek! A bat! Don't let it get near you: they make a nest in your hair! Get me a hat!

(RUTH enters with the vacuum, and a woman's feathered hat, which she gives to HARKER, who slaps it on. The MAID switches on the cleaner, and SEWARD grabs at it, trying to suck up the bat in the wand. But it is in vain. RENFIELD stands very still all this while, and listens as though the BAT were speaking to him.)

(The BAT flies out the window. The MAID switches off the ubiquitous vacuum and leaves with it.)

RENFIELD: He means your mother had unnatural relations with a stripèd bass!

DR SEWARD: (pissed) That does it, Renfield! It's back to the frozen enemas—this time... with Drãano!

(RENFIELD grabs HARKER's hat, and runs out, right. SEWARD, WORTHIBUTTER and HARKER follow.)

(VAN HELSING follows them out. LUCY is alone for the briefest second, with sounds of scuffling coming from the hall. Then the windows open, and the cheapo BAT flies in once more. It sails over to her with its delicate and hardly noticeable hawsers operating the wings, and it hovers over LUCY, as though to protect her. Somewhere along the line, if technically feasible, it would be appropriate for the bat to defecate near, but not on LUCY.)

DRACULA: Aha! A Private Pooper! I shall attend to him myself. You will see to it we are left alone.

(The BAT flies out, leaving the french windows open, just as RENFIELD dashes back in through the archway, center. SEWARD and the others follow like foxes, pouncing on him.)

(HARKER runs toward LUCY, but slips with a mighty slurp on the floor.)

DR SEWARD: I can't take this madness anymore! Loonies—bottles—bat-shi t! I need some sleep!

RENFIELD: You may never sleep again, cretins! The whole world is mad now, and if you want advice, you have to go to a madman to get it!

DR SEWARD: (lighting a cigarette) Preposterous! Go quietly now, or I'll have you inducted to a Protest ant Institution.

RENFIELD: You make big threats, Doctor Sewer! But you'll never stop the bad dreams that you get. Only one can do that, and he has no intention of doing it!

(RUTH opens the portières, and hooks them so they remain open. SHE turns around and flashes what we can assume to be a semi-beaver shot at the oncoming guest. DRACULA enters, dressed for dinner, in black tie, with some crazy Carpathian memento slug from a ribbon about his neck. He has the distinctive bags under his eyes, like LUCY's.)

DR SEWARD: Well, I should think so, after being here 'til all hours of the morning.

DRACULA: Not all hours. Only one or two. (evilly, to RENFIELD:): And you, little friend...

RENFIELD: (terrified): Master—! Did I do okay? I tried... I was going to— Master—

DRACULA: (lightly) Oh, he means he was going to mastur...bate. Tsk, tsk, Renfield. Not in the parlour. Go upstairs like a good little qvack.

(HE makes as though to go quietly with WORTHIBUTTER, but suddenly lunges for LUCY, wildly pawing at her knees like a puppy. LUCY titters, unabashed and amused. The others are appalled. WORTHIBUTTER, SEWARD and VAN HELSING pull RENFIELD off LUCY, and HARKER expounds on LUCY's honor, for all that it's worth.)

(SEWARD and WORTHIBUTTER, ad- libbing their disbelief, drag RENFIELD out the door. On the way out, RENFIELD manages to give DRACULA the crook'd forefinger and thumb as the "o.k." sign. DRACULA returns it, on the sly.)

DR SEWARD: Pardon me, while I smooth things over. (HE takes a pair of yellow rubber gloves from his desk drawer, and something art-deco looking that is perfectly indescribable, with hoses and polished surgical steel. It looks rather like a scale model of the vacuum cleaner. The THREE exit to the hallway, with RENFIELD: struggling.)

LUCY: (grasping at straws) Van Helsing broke wind: now come on, lunkhead! (SHE drags him out to the terrace)

DRACULA: (charmingly) Forgive me. My manners are so...outdated. I'm not used to meeting...people. I am... Count Dracula! Call me Count.

(THE MAID, in the hall, laughs lasciviously, then gives a loud wolf-whistle. SEWARD enters again, rushes to his desk and grabs another inexplicable medical device. HE gleefully is about to exit, when HE stops to dole the platitude:)

DR SEWARD: Everybody introduce yourselves. Make yourselves at home. (And HE leaves, enthusiastically)

VAN HELSING: I am Professor Van Helsing, from Helsinki. Late of University of Mid-Minnesota at Bemidji, and applying for graduate work under incomprehensible scholarships at Brandeis University.

VAN HELSING: (meaningfully) Ah, were every man's past written indelibly on his face...

(There is the sound of a fierce struggle outside, both in the hall and on the terrace.)

VAN HELSING: If every dog had a tag... there wouldn't be so much howling in the streets.

(THE MAID enters with an empty can of Drãno, opens the french doors and chucks the can out.)

RUTH THE MAID Can it! (The Cat noises cease. RUTH turns & coyly curtseys to the startled men...) 'Skyuse me.

(—and SHE exits. As SHE does, we see RENFIELD's feet going down the hall, as he is being dragged out by WORTHIBUTTER . SEWARD enters with a douche bag over his arm. He looks dejected again.)

(On the word "death," SEWARD throws the douche bag on the desk with an obscene plop of wet rubber. Then HE peels off the rubber gloves, throws them in a drawer, and takes out a few more pills, which he ingests.)

DR SEWARD: Pfui. The Drãno enemas aren't doing any good at all. His system is still filled with demon alcohol!

DR SEWARD: Lock him up? I tell you Professor, it's impossible! We had him in a pick- proof safety-deposit box at Lloyd's of London, and the next day we received a cable saying Renfield was in their backyard—going through the rubbish! The mongrel was muttering that this was his "native soil!"

DRACULA: A charming man, this Ren...field. One day I will have to talk to him about my own native soil.

DRACULA: In the Carpathian mountains, where neither man nor beast can see the light of day without fearing the darkness of night... next door to Moldavia and Wallachia...Transylvania!

VAN HELSING: I've often been there. The Transcaucasian Casino is an old hot spot of mi— (VAN HELSING: claps his hand over his mouth, acknowledging his faux-pas. DRACULA shows signs of noticing he has discovered VAN HELSING:'s Achilles' heel.)

DRACULA: Oh... Do you... gamble, Professor? We could use a fourth for penny-a-point... auction pinochle?

VAN HELSING: Penny-a-point...? (a beat) I never gamble, Herr Count. I don't even attend Baptist Bingoes.

(All this while, SEWARD is administering to HARKER's wound. SEWARD throws a jigger of cognac on the hickey, and covers it with a round band-aid.)

DRACULA: A pity. In the basement of my new house I found—among other curios, a cozy setup. A baccarat table, a wheel of roulette... and a—how you say in English...Grotsnye-Roölo?

DRACULA: Pin...ball! Machine! And still intact is the— theš Lusbayšù Moola?

VAN HELSING (without consulting) ...Jackpot. You think you know me now, don't you Count? Well, I've met your kind before. You won't tempt me, even with your Lusbayšù Moola jackpot. Intact or not.

(DRACULA smiles charmingly, cocks his head at his adversary and motions as though to start a pinball game. They chuckle politely, but with tension.)

DRACULA: Oh, Carfax is not a ruin. The dust was somewhat deep, but we are used to these little household problems. A few beaded curtains, a little Contac paper, and it's as good as new.

(LUCY comes parading in from the terrace, swiping her sleeve over her mouth.)

VAN HELSING: (writing on a slip of paper) But tomorrow! Tomorrow we'll have the biggest wing-ding you've set eyes on.

HARKER: (aside to VAN HELSING:) Hey, Prof, what's goin' on? I mean she's ready for the circular file as it is, but another party? Come on...

(SEWARD meets the MAID at the archway, and whispers instructions to her. LUCY and DRACULA exchange soulful glances. VAN HELSING speaks to HARKER, aside)

VAN HELSING: Don't worry. Do just as I tell you. We don't want to throw good blood after bad.

(EVERYONE turns back into the room as though nothing had happened. DRACULA initiates conversation:)

DRACULA: Tell me: Have you heard this bizarre news from...Ipswich? They say a woman in a flimsy white negligee carouses about.

HARKER: (boorishly) Oh, I heard about that! Yeah! They call her the Ipswich Whore!

HARKER: (softly, to SEWARD) That's what I said. Whore-rr. What do you think I'm talking about?
(SEWARD makes a fist and gently plunges at the air in front of him. HARKER, amazingly enough, gets the intent, and turns bright red.)
Oh—you thought I meant Hoo-er!

DR SEWARD: Yes, I heard about her on the wireless. They say she roams about... giving rum cookies to children.

HARKER: Yeah! And they brought the kids into the station house, and they were all lined up on the bench goin' bbllbbrr, blblblbbb (he flutters his lips with his finger). Can you imagine!

VAN HELSING: I also heard the story: a little differently. I heard she tried to play mommy with them. And kissed them... rather forcefully... here. (HE indicates his neck) In fact, they say she is only seen near the Ipswich Cemetery!

VAN HELSING: They also say she goes around singing a little ditty: "My Heart Belongs to Dracky." You don't suppose she'd mean ...Dracula?

DRACULA: Oh, that is nothing. I often speak the name... Van Helsing. ( VAN HELSING is startled.) Yes... Professor... Your name we know... even in the wilds of Transylvania!

DR SEWARD: Ipswich Cemetery! Golly, that's where we buried Ms Mina not a month...

DRACULA: (all smiles) It is an old Rumanian expression, meaning: "Your eyes are bigger than your stomach."

(THE MAID enters with a covered chafing dish. SHE gives it to VAN HELSING and exists, after announcing in her inimitable Bronxese:)

DRACULA (Undressed)

CAST

ACT ONE