Posted by Richard Harland Smith on April 13, 2007
MARYA: You think this night will be like all the others, don’t you? Well, you’re wrong. Dracula’s destroyed, his body’s in ashes. The spell is broken. I can live a normal life now. Think normal things. Even play normal music again. Listen. (She sits at the piano and plays.) The Cradle Song. A song my mother once sang to me long, long ago. Rocking me to sleep as she sang in the twilight.
MARYA: Quiet! Quiet… you disturb me. Twilight… long shadows on the hillside.
SANDOR: Evil shadows.
MARYA: No, no… peaceful shadows. The flutter of wings in the tree tops.
SANDOR: The wings of bats.
MARYA: No, no… the wings of birds. From far off, the barking of a dog.
SANDOR: Barking because there are wolves about!
MARYA: Silence. I forbid you.
SANDOR: Forbid? Why are you afraid?
MARYA: I’m not, I’m not… I’ve found release.
SANDOR: That music doesn’t speak of release.
Marya's playing grows more frenzied.
MARYA: No… no… you’re right…
SANDOR: The music tells of the dark. Evil things. Shadowy places.
MARYA: … stop… stop… STOP!
Marya jumps up from the piano.
MARYA: Look at me. What do you see in my eyes?
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