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ACT ONE
No 1. Overture
A single spotlight plays upon the centre of the stage curtain. A man
in immaculate evening attire comes through the curtain, and addresses
the audience. He is the NARRATOR. Music underscores his words:
NARRATOR: In the depths of man’s subconscious mind lurk strange
fears and beliefs. One such fear, deep-rooted in the collective
subconscious, is the terror of the undead: the belief in Vampires,
Werewolves and such unholy creations, normally repressed, but breaking
through from time to time into consciousness. On winter’s nights,
when the moon is in the trees, and the firelight is dying, who does
not feel the hairs rising upon his neck at the unearthly baying of a
distant hound?
A hound bays mournfully in the distance.
How much more fearful, then, to be far from home on such a night, in
a land where dark forces reign unchallenged? Come with us now to
Transylvania…
The music becomes more threatening. The sound of a snow wind is
heard, building slowly in volume. The curtain begins to rise on a
wooded scene, at dusk. Stark mountain ranges climb towards the distant
horizon, where lurks the dark shape of a turreted castle.
Darkness is falling fast, and black clouds are scudding low over the
restless trees. An icy wind is cutting down from the northern plains,
and a full moon rides at anchor in the wild sky. Above the tree line
rises the massive bulk of Castle Dracula, its towers and battlements
silhouetted darkly against the storm clouds. Suddenly, down the
forest, something stirs…
Two young people enter the clearing in the trees. The first is CLIVE
RAMSBOTTOM, who strides manfully forward. The second is his new young
wife, ROSEMARY, who enters warily a few paces behind. CLIVE is dressed
for walking in the manner of the Victorians. He has a knapsack on his
back which he swings down to take a rest. ROSEMARY wears a day dress,
a woollen cloak and walking boots. She is an exceptionally beautiful
girl, 17 years old, and, although married to CLIVE for a week, still
innocent of the world’s secrets. She is close to exhaustion after a
hard day’s hike.
CLIVE: Do huwwy up, darwing.
ROSEMARY: It’s no good, Clive, I can’t go on.
CLIVE: You must, Wosemarwy, you must!
NARRATOR: It is two travellers. Cold, starving, and close to collapse,
they can drag their weary limbs no further.
ROSEMARY: Oh, Clive, I can drag my weary limbs no further!
NARRATOR: There you are.
CLIVE: Excuse me…
NARRATOR: Hmm?
CLIVE: We’re twying to act over here.
NARRATOR: Sorry. (Exit)
No 2. Lost in the Forest
CLIVE and
ROSEMARY: We are lost in the forest; we have strayed from the track;
Lost in the forest, and there’s no turning back;
We are cold and we are hungry and the night is so black;
We are lost in the forest, on our own!
The trees are full of shadows and they reach up so high;
Even when the sun is up, you can’t see the sky;
We came here for our honeymoon, but God alone knows why –
We are lost in the forest, all alone.
Walking in the woods is not as nice as it seems;
The night is full of noises: there are grunts and there are
screams;
You wouldn’t want to be here, even in your worst dreams –
We are lost in the forest, on our own!
Of course, we don’t believe in things like ghosties and ghouls;
We’re not superstitious – much – and neither are we fools;
But there’s something glinting out there, and it sure isn’t
jewels;
We are lost in the forest, all alone!
ROSEMARY: I must sit down for a moment, Clive.
CLIVE: Vewwy well. Quickly, then.
ROSEMARY sits on the forest floor. She raises her skirts to examine
her ankles.
ROSEMARY: Look at those!
CLIVE: Not now, Wosemarwy! (He kneels beside her.)
ROSEMARY: Those wretched brambles! My legs are all cut and bleeding.
CLIVE: I know. I’ve got a little wip in my twousers.
ROSEMARY: Have you?
CLIVE: Yes.
ROSEMARY: Let me rest my weary head in your lap, Clive, just for a
moment.
CLIVE: No, no! There is not time to snooze!
ROSEMARY: But I must rest a while, Clive; I just must!
CLIVE: Yes, yes – but not here, I beg you.
ROSEMARY: Why not here? Here the grass is soft and dry; the trees
shelter us from the wind. We are lost and weary – why cannot we
shelter here until morning?
CLIVE: Because…because…
ROSEMARY: Why, Clive? Why?
CLIVE: (Jumping to his feet) Because…to stop here is certain
death!
ROSEMARY: (Aside) What can he mean? (Aloud) What do you mean?
CLIVE: Don’t you see?
ROSEMARY: Where?
CLIVE: Up there – beyond the twees…
ROSEMARY: The mune?
CLIVE: No, not the moon! That dark and sinister shape; those lowering
battlements; those gloomy tuwwets; it’s…it’s…
ROSEMARY: Yes?
CLIVE: Castle Dwacula! (Chord)
ROSEMARY: Oh, goody, goody!
CLIVE: What do you mean, goody-goody?
ROSEMARY: A place to rest for the night! Oh, hurry, Clive, hurry! Let
us seek shelter beneath its welcoming walls!
CLIVE: Are you mad?
ROSEMARY: (Aside) I don’t think he should speak to me like that –
we have only been married a week. (Aloud) Don’t speak to me like
that, Clive. It does not show respect.
CLIVE: But, don’t you see…? (Aside) Poor, innocent child! I must
tell her…(Aloud) I must tell you: that is the home of the Prince of
Darkness himself, Count…hush!
ROSEMARY: Count Hush?
CLIVE: Shhh! Listen!
A wolf is heard, howling
There! You hear that?
ROSEMARY: Oh, yes, yes! Some poor, furry creature has caught its
little paw in a beastly trap. I must hasten to its rescue!
CLIVE: No! You must stay her. I shall go. Alone.
ROSEMARY: Alone?
CLIVE: Yes.
ROSEMARY: No, Clive! You shan’t! You won’t!
CLIVE: I will. I must.
NARRATOR: He does.
CLIVE exits bravely into the forest.
ROSEMARY: Take care, my love! (She approaches the footlights) How
brave he is to go alone into the forest! On his own. Without anyone
else. Clive will save the life of the suffering little one, I know he
will.
No 3: Clive
ROSEMARY: Dear Clive…
He’s not handsome, I know;
He’s quite small (but he’ll grow;)
Clive is brave and he’s noble and he’s kind.
Clive is everything to me,
Clive is all a man should be,
And, if I’m honest, Clive is all that I could find.
Clive!
Dear Clive!
Clive’s a love!
Clive’s alive!
Though his body may be puny,
Still I long to clutch it to me;
To hold me and protect me through life’s trials;
When she’s never known a man,
A girl will take the best she can,
And Clive can look quite fetching when he smiles!
Suddenly CLIVE is hurled back into the clearing by an unseen force.
ROSEMARY: Clive! What is it? Are you all right?
CLIVE: Not now, Wosemarwy. This thing is bigger than I thought.
CLIVE brushes himself down, and exits with his fists up.
ROSEMARY: Clive!
No, Clive!
Stay with me!
Stay alive!
Clive, this forest is so scary
Any minute something hairy
Could leap out from these trees and grab my throat!
Clive, don’t go! Don’t leave me here!
I’m nearly paralysed with fear!
Oh my God, Clive – just forget the bloody stoat!
CLIVE screams offstage
ROSEMARY: Ooooh!
CLIVE staggers on, clutching his throat.
ROSEMARY: Clive, my darling! What has happened?
CLIVE: Urgh!
ROSEMARY: Did you save the little creature?
CLIVE: I’ve bought it, Wosemarwy.
ROSEMARY: Who from? How much?
CLIVE: You don’t understand – I’m done for!
ROSEMARY: Done for?
CLIVE: It got me.
ROSEMARY: What got you? (CLIVE goes down) Clive! What was it what got
you?
CLIVE: (Clawing at his neck) Urgh! Urgh!
ROSEMARY: You want me to loosen your collar?
CLIVE: Mm! Mm! Mm!
ROSEMARY: What did it? Oh, what did it?
CLIVE: A…a…
ROSEMARY: Speak to me, Clive! Speak to me!
CLIVE: It was a Vamp….urgh. (Dies)
ROSEMARY: A vamp? What sort of creature is that? Clive, what do you
mean? Speak plainly!
ROSEMARY shakes CLIVE’s lifeless body in desperation. The NARRATOR
comes out of the shadows at the side of the stage. He looks down at
the body, without emotion.
NARRATOR: But Clive spoke no more. He was dead.
ROSEMARY: Excuse me…
NARRATOR: Yes?
ROSEMARY: My husband is not very well.
NARRATOR: I know – he’s dead.
ROSEMARY: You see, he went into the…pardon?
NARRATOR: He’s dead. I’m sorry.
ROSEMARY: Dead?!
NARRATOR: I’m afraid so. (Exit)
ROSEMARY: O my love! My love!
ROSEMARY weeps over his lifeless body. DRACULA enters from the forest
and looks at her
DRACULA: Vat a touching sight.
ROSEMARY: Oh! Who are you?
DRACULA: Who am I? Hmmm. Well isn’t that a tricky one?
No 4: The Prince of Darkness
DRACULA: They call me the Prince of Darkness,
They say my heart is black.
People can be so cruel, don’t you agree?
You’ve not the least idea, my dear,
What they say behind my back,
But none of it is true, believe you me.
They call me the Prince of Darkness,
They tell me I’m a ghoul;
They say such nasty things about my teeth;
But pay no heed to gossip, dear,
It’s clear that you’re no fool:
You can tell that I’m a sweetie underneath.
They call me the Prince of Darkness,
But to you, my dear, a friend,
Someone to lean upon when things are rough;
Someone to seize your throat…your hand(!)
Stay with you to the end;
Someone that you can trust when times are tough.
They call me the Prince of darkness
But it really isn’t true;
My heart is full of warmth and love and light;
Give me you blood… your trust(!) my dear,
And I will see you through;
Won’t you come home and stay with me tonight?
ROSEMARY: You have such kind eyes, sir. Perhaps you could help me? My
husband appears to have been killed while helping a poor, defenceless
creature escape from a trap. I am cold and frightened, and all alone
in the world…and Clive said…Clive said…oh!
DRACULA: There, there. You can tell me.
ROSEMARY: He said there were vamps in the forest. I don’t know what
they are, but I don’t think they can be very nice. One of them seems
to have bitten him – see – there are two little marks on his
neck.
DRACULA: Oh yes. How horrid.
ROSEMARY: Oh sir – can you help me?
DRACULA: But yes. My castle is not far. Come, I will give you food
and shelter for the night.
ROSEMARY O, thank you!
DRACULA: Mon plaisir. This way, my lovely.
DRACULA guides her out of the clearing. He pauses to sing a final
verse of his song before following her.
DRACULA: They call me the Prince of Darkness,
And deary me – it’s true!
All those awful rumours are quite right!
But do not breathe a word, or I shall
Come down there for you:
Either way, I’m dining well tonight!
Exit DRACULA. NARRATOR enters. Sinister music plays.
NARRATOR: Little suspecting the intentions, or even the identity of
her handsome rescuer, Rosemary allowed herself to be taken back to the
sinister castle on the hill.
The woods vanish. We find ourselves in a lofty, stone-vaulted
chamber, much as the NARRATOR describes it. He strolls around the room
pointing out its features as he talks…
Here we find ourselves in Castle Dracula. The floor is cold and
flag-stoned, the walls damp and drear. Cobwebs festoon the rafters;
rats swarm and scurry beneath our feet, and Death stalks the corridors
and grins hideously from every mullioned window. For all that, there
are signs of cheer: a fire burns in the Great Hall. A table is set for
three, and a family meal is in progress…
The music fades. The family meal is being enjoyed by CERISE, the wife
of DRACULA. Also at the table are his two daughters, TRUDI and
VERONICA. TRUDI retains the innocence of youth. VERONICA is a typical
teenager. CERISE is a darkly handsome woman who is in the prime of
life – in her case, probably no more than a couple of centuries old.
She wears a red and black velvet gown which shows off her fine figure
to perfection. TRUDI wears a gym-slip, and VERONICA is arrayed in
Vampire Punk. VERONICA is not enjoying the meal, and is making her
dislike of tonight’s menu very plain. The music ceases altogether as
she begins to speak.
VERONICA: Mummy, I hate my brother’s guts.
CERISE: Well, leave them on the side of your plate, dear.
NARRATOR: This gorgeous creature is Cerise, Dracula’s sultry bride.
And that joke was from the Beano.
VERONICA: I’m not eating any of it. It’s crap.
NARRATOR: The revolting one is their daughter, Veronica.
VERONICA: Everything you serve is crap.
NARRATOR: Veronica has reached a difficult age.
CERISE: I’ve told you before, dear, not to use that sort of
language in front of your sister.
TRUDI: Pooh, that’s nothing – you should hear her at school.
CERISE: I’m only glad that I can’t. Now finish your supper, both
of you.
NARRATOR: (Standing behind her) The younger sister – Trudi. Still
sweet and unsullied by life’s traumas.
CERISE: Come along, Veronica, I want that plate cleared.
VERONICA: I’m not eating any of it. I’m going to become a
vegetarian, if you must know.
CERISE: Stop showing off, dear. No-one is impressed.
TRUDI: I am. A vegetarian vampire – wow!
CERISE: If you don’t want the food, just leave it on one side,
Veronica. There is no need to make a scene at every meal.
VERONICA: There is if all you ever serve is crap.
CERISE: It is not crap, it is small intestine. Either eat it, or go
to your room.
CERISE becomes aware that the NARRATOR is still hovering
What are you gawping at? If you have to poke your nose in you could
at least make yourself useful, and clear the table.
NARRATOR: I’m invisible.
CERISE: You flatter yourself.
NARRATOR: A fly on the wall.
VERONICA: Well, buzz off, then.
CERISE: Here, take this to the kitchen. Go along.
NARRATOR: There’s nothing like this in the script.
Exit NARRATOR, disgruntled, with empty tureen.
TRUDI: Who was that, Mummy?
CERISE: I’m not sure, dear. Your father’s very late.
CERISE rises from the table and looks out of the window, only half an
ear on her daughter’s prattle.
TRUDI: (Following her) Is he a ghost?
CERISE: Who, dear? Your father? Not exactly.
TRUDI: Not daddy, silly!
VERONICA: She means that man, who was here just now.
CERISE: Yes. No. I don’t know, dear. I hope your father brings
someone back. The larder is almost empty.
TRUDI: I’ve seen him before.
CERISE: Have you, dear? Who?
TRUDI: That man. I’ve seen him before.
CERISE: Where? Where have you seen him before?
TRUDI: On the stairs, in the passages….sometimes in my room.
CERISE: In your bedroom? That man?
TRUDI: Sometimes. When I’m getting ready for bed. He stares and
stares.
VERONICA: Who’d stare at you?
TRUDI: He does stare at me, Mummy, he does! Ronni is being horrid!
CERISE: He hasn’t….touched you, has he?
VERONICA: That’s silly – everyone knows ghosts can’t touch.
CERISE: Be quiet, Veronica.
VERONICA: Pardon me for breathing. (Throws down her napkin and rises
from table)
CERISE: He hasn’t touched you, has he, Trudi, dear?
TRUDI: That man? No – he just looks…and talks to the wall.
VERONICA: A ghost loony. Super.
CERISE: If you see him again, you are to tell me or Daddy straight
away, you understand?
VERONICA: Tell me – I’d love to find a man in my room.
TRUDI: Why?
VERONICA: Why? Bless the sweet, innocent child!
CERISE: Isn’t it time you went to night school?
VERONICA: I’m not going.
CERISE: Why?
VERONICA: I’m just not, alright?
CERISE: No, it is not alright. Go along and get ready.
VERONICA: I’ve got chronic stomach ache, if anyone’s interested.
CERISE: I’m afraid you used that excuse last week.
VERONICA: I get it every week. From eating crap. I’m going to lie
down.
VERONICA slams out of the room.
CERISE: Oh dear.
TRUDI: Isn’t Veronica rude, Mummy?
CERISE: Yes, dear. She is.
TRUDI: I’m not rude, though, am I Mummy?
CERISE: Don’t boast, darling. Go and get ready for school.
TRUDI: Why can’t Ronni and I go to proper daytime school, like the
other boys and girls?
CERISE: Because you’re not like the other boys and girls.
TRUDI: Why aren’t we?
CERISE: Well…because you and Veronica and Mummy and Daddy are
undead. It makes a difference.
TRUDI: What sort of difference?
CERISE: Really, darling, I haven’t time for all this right now. Go
along and get yourself ready for school, there’s a good girl.
TRUDI: Alright, Mummy. Aren’t you going to kiss me?
CERISE: Better not dear – be on the safe side. Now, go along and
don’t forget to file your teeth.
TRUDI: Alright, Mummy. (Sighs) There’s so much I don’t
understand. (Exit)
CERISE: How do you even start to tell them?
No 5: How Do You Tell Her?
CERISE: A little hand reaches for yours.
Two wide eyes gaze up in trust.
How do you tell her “Your father’s a vampire,
For you there’ll be no ‘Dust to Dust’”?
How do you tell her her friends are just dinners?
She’ll greet them, and eat them, and still she’ll want more.
How do you tell her that vampires are sinners?
Each time that she drinks, she’ll be breaking the law.
How do you tell her her teeth won’t stop growing?
They’re there for a purpose that’s not very nice.
How can you possibly stop her from knowing
Why the same postman will never come twice?
What do you say when she asks about babies?
Do you tell her the truth – that they make tasty bites?
What do you say – do you fall back on “maybe’s”
When she wants to come with you on graveyard shift nights?
How do you tell her that sunlight’s a killer?
Each time do you fill her with half-truths and lies?
What do you say if she turns to religion?
How to protect her the first time she flies?
How to explain what her daddy does nightly?
Rightly or wrongly, you stay clear of sex;
But sooner or later a young man will date her
And when the time comes, she must know about necks.
Her little hand reaches for yours.
Two wide eyes gaze up in trust.
How do you tell her, “My Love, you’re a vampire;
If only those urges you feel were just lust.”?
MRS GONAD, the wrinkled old retainer shuffles into the room and
lurches over to CERISE. MRS GONAD’s entrances are accompanied by her
own little tune.
GONAD: May I be of assistance, madam?
CERISE: Oh, it’s you, Mrs Gonad. Yes: you may clear the table.
GONAD: I’ll clear the table, then.
MRS GONAD clears the table, but breaks a plate.
GONAD: Ooops. Will the master be home soon, madam?
CERISE: I hope so, Mrs Gonad.
GONAD: I don’t know what I’m going to get for his supper:
there’s no fresh meat, and there’s not a drop of blood in the
cellar; only that cheep, frozen stuff from Sainsbury’s, and he
won’t touch that.
CERISE: I know it’s not easy…
GONAD: Not easy! It’s weeks since he’s had any of that rhesus
positive what he’s so fond of.
CERISE: We can only hope he brings a little something back.
GONAD: Yurs.
CERISE: Come along, Mrs Gonad – let’s see what we can rustle up
between us.
As CERISE and MRS GONAD exit, they pass the NARRATOR coming back into
the room. CERISE gives him a searching look.
NARRATOR: As it happened, Dracula had himself rustled a little
something up, and was at that very moment showing her into his
castle…
The NARRATOR settles down on a chair in a dark corner, from which he
will emerge from time to time to comment on the action. DRACULA
enters, showing ROSEMARY into the room…
ROSEMARY: What a pretty castle!
DRACULA: Thank you.
ROSEMAR: But…brrr! How cold it is!
DRACULA: I find it a trifle stuffy. Are you hungry, my dear?
ROSEMARY: I am a little: but don’t put yourself about.
DRACULA: As it happens, I could do with a bite, myself.
ROSEMAR: What a kind man!
DRACULA: Take this chair by the fire.
ROSEMARY: Thank you.
DRACULA: I’ll ring for Mrs Gonad.
DRACULA pulls on the bell rope. Either a huge bell tolls somewhere
deep in the castle, or the rope comes away in his hands, depending
upon the size of the budget.
ROSEMARY: How lucky I am to have found him!
MRS GONAD’s tune announces her arrival.
GONAD: You rang, sir?
DRACULA: Yes, Mrs Gonad. We have a guest.
GONAD: So I see. Rhesus positive?
DRACULA: I don’t know yet. Fetch her some supper.
GONAD: Supper? Huh! You’ll be lucky.
DRACULA seizes GONAD by the throat
DRACULA: Serve supper, or it’ll be the worse for you!
GONAD: Oh, sir! You’re so rough!
DRACULA: Go and look in the larder again.
No 6: The Larder is Bare
GONAD: The larder is bare, sir;
Ain’t nothing there, sir;
If you don’t believe me, go and take a look.
Ain’t no more meat, sir,
Nothing for sweet, sir,
There’s not a drop of flesh on any hook.
DRACULA: I don’t believe you!
I shall relieve you
Of your life, if you don’t feed me on the spot!
First I shall halve you,
Then I shall carve you,
And I shall eat you, though I’d really rather not.
ROSEMARY: Oh, have a care, sir!
You should be fair, sir!
Such jests as these are not for tender ears!
The lady is frail, sir;
You are a male, sir,
Pray abuse not someone so advanced in years!
(To conclude the song, all reprise their own verses at the same
time.)
DRACULA: One more time.
ROSEMARY: (Sings) Oh, have a care, sir…
DRACULA: (Putting a hand on her arm) Not the song. I’m doing
dialogue now.
ROSEMARY: Sorry.
DRACULA: One more time, Mrs Gonad – go and scour the larder one
more time. Just for me.
GONAD: I’ll go and look again.
MRS GONAD shuffles out
[end of extract]
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