ACT ONE
Scene One
Heartwood House, White Bay, Whitby. The garden. Midsummer morning ā a beauty, clear, clean and smelling of the sea. The garden is all dappled leafy light and thereās a swing on which LUCY WESTERMAN, out in her underwear, is swinging ā with her armful of frou-frou petticoats, mirror in hand, singing her song and dreaming her young-girl dreams.
LUCY (singing).
Who shall I marry
Tom, Dick or Harry?
She kisses her own lovely reflection in the mirror.
Enter MINA WESTERMAN, her big sister, proper English rose, a peach, eating one.
MINA. Catch her death! Lucy, what can you be thinking of?
LUCY. Come lace me up, sis. Thereās a love.
MINA. Do hurry up, my angel, heāll be here soonā¦
LUCY. Tighter. Tighter, Minaā¦
MINA. Iāll hurt you.
LUCY. No, you wonāt. I want it tighter. I want to feel it nip me in. The day they put me in stays and made me wear my hair up I swore blind if I was to be pinched and skewered then I was to have the thinnest, thinnest waist and the highest, highest hair. I wasnāt going to suffer for nothing and not be noticed. Oh, Mina, arenāt you pretty in your silk? You look good enough to eat.
MINA. Hold still, oh⦠Lucy, heāll be here soon!
LUCY. And me not done dolling myself⦠Maybe Iāll get him to come and catch me.
MINA (distracted). Mmm, pet?
LUCY. I said, meine Wilhel-Mina, maybe Iāll take my time and laze and dawdle and let my curling tongs go quite cold and let him come and gawp at me in my drawers.
MINA. Lucy!
LUCY. Wouldnāt that give him a fright? And a sight to remember. What you going to give him before he goes away?
MINA. Lucy! I donāt know what you mean.
LUCY. Well, he is your fiancĆ©, for goodnessā sake! You are practically married.
MINA. We are not āpractically marriedā. Itās weeks and weeks yet till my birthday. Heāll go away. And then heāll come back. And then weāll be married.
LUCY. And him going off on such a long journey. What are you going to give him to remember you by?
MINA. My likeness. In a locket.
LUCY. And heāll keep you in his pocket. Take you out to look at⦠Nothing else?
MINA. Nothing. Else my mother would turn in her grave! Iām supposed to set you an example. You! What about the example naughty little sisters set sensible big sisters?
LUCY. Itās only tease⦠only talk.
MINA. Well, you watch your mouth, miss!
By now theyāre as buttoned up as each other. MINA begins to fix LUCYās hair. LUCY sighs.
LUCY. Sometimes I canāt help thinkā¦
MINA. What?
LUCY. Nothingā¦(A sigh.) Justā¦
MINA. Just what?
LUCY. Just, I wish something was going to happen to me.
MINA. It will. One day.
LUCY. It would be so lovely to go on a honeymoon. Oh, Mina, youāre so lucky. I wish I was waiting for my wedding dress to come from Paris. I wish I had a Jonathan.
MINA. Hands off, miss! Heās mine.
LUCY. Heās Minaās. Mustnāt forget. Tied and true. And⦠due here any time!
She begins scurrying about, tidying up and dropping things again.
Behold, the bridegroom cometh! Into the life of lovely Wilhelmina Westerman the twenty-four-year-old heiress and sister to the lynx-eyed Lucy ā Enter: Ta-ra! Jonathan Harker, tall, dark, handsome, blue-eyed, articled clerk extraordinaire ā
MINA (laughing). Listen, miss, he got his exams. He passed. Heās a solicitor. And you read too many penny dreadfuls!
LUCY. And you know how I like my penny dreadfuls.
MINA. Howās that?
LUCY. Two-pence-coloured!
The girls run off laughing.
Scene Two
Bedlam. Suddenly itās all grim NURSES with fouled laundry in the asylum.
RENFIELD and DOCTOR ARTHUR SEWARD together. In and out of sight, sometimes, elsewhere from them, DOCTOR GOLDMAN, a lady psychiatrist with notebook, writing. RENFIELD is shaved by a NURSE or ORDERLY. Rocking back and forth, he sometimes catcalls and chants. He is presently gabbling maniacally.
RENFIELD. I once knew a woman who swallowed a fly. Perhaps sheāll die. Perhaps she wonāt die. To die or not to die, that is the question. BED-LAM BED-LAM BED-LAM BEDLAM. Bats in the belfry, bats, set of screw-looses⦠screw Lucyās screw Lucyās screw Lucyās. Itās cold. Getting colder. Time to get yourself into something warm and double-breasted in a whorehouse, my son. I once knew a woman. Who swallowed a⦠spider that wriggled and tickled and tickled inside her⦠Doctor Seward! Sewer. Lord Muck-mind. Mr Pissriver. Shit floats! Doctor Seward, you bastard.
SEWARD. Come, Mr Renfield, calm yourself, man. Swallow this opiate, sir, itāll make you more lucid.
RENFIELD. Lucid. Lucyād. Lucyād. She would. She-swallowed-the-cat-to-catch-the-bird-she-swallowed-the-swallow-to-catch-the-spider-she-swallowed-the-spider-to-catch-thefly-but-I-donāt-know-why⦠(Pause.) Doctor Seward? Doctor Seward, I feel empty.
SEWARD. Youāll feel better, Mr Renfield.
NURSE administers dose. GOLDMAN is in mid-spiel of her deliberations.
GOLDMAN.ā¦One might hypothesise, Silberman says, that the animus in its negative, demonic phase lures women away from all human relationships and especially from all contacts with real menā¦
RENFIELD (melancholic, pitiful). Empty. They took me and they de-loused me. They shaved me and they salted me with lye. (Angry.) They wormed me like a dog and they wired me up to their bad machines.
SEWARD (amused). Really, Mr Renfield? And what sort of⦠bad machines?
RENFIELD. They shoved rubber in my gob to stop it, gave me something bitter and sweet to bite on, and they fastened wires to my temples. My whole head is a temple. Full of precious things for my master to come and worship. Because heās coming in his warship. My-master-that-I-worship-is-coming-in-his-warship. (Pause.) The machine took the current of my memories away. My memories that fed me⦠and fed from me⦠and bled me like leeches and drained my life away. Now Iām empty. I feed on no life and no life feeds from me. Buzz of a fly. Louder and louder and RENFIELDās mad eyes watching it.
GOLDMAN (in mid-spiel again). ā¦correspondingly the malign or āshadowā anima in a man involves him in those neurotic pseudo-intellectual dialogues that inhibit him from getting into direct touch with life so that, starved of spontaneity and outgoing feeling, he cannot live itā¦
She passes SEWARD, muttering and writing. Exits.
SEWARD (muttering).ā¦Lord, I do sympathise with those who deem it difficult to distinguish the physicians from the afflicted in this institution⦠Doctor Goldman! Christ, what a crab apple.
SEWARD begins to watch RENFIELD watching the fly. Suddenly RENFIELD snatches it from the air. Buzz stops. He opens his hand a bit. Buzz again. He picks it up, still fizzing between thumb and forefinger and eats it with a sickening crunch. SEWARD shudders.
RENFIELD (defiant). Itās fat with life, strong life, and gives life to me. Very good, very tasty, very wholesome. I know a doctor who should try some.
SEWARD (amused). Ingested insects?
RENFIELD. Some life.
SEWARD. In Mr Renfieldās case I recommend that his medication be continued, increasing by one milligram per ...