a hag!
Mr. Quincey P. Morris!
Look! What is that?
A Texan. Quincey P. Morris.
He's so young and fresh.
- A wild stallion between my legs.
- You're positively indecent!
I just know what men desire.
Watch.
- Quincey, darling.
- Miss Lucy ...
You're as fresh as a spring rain.
Quincey, please let me touch it.
It's so big.
My dear, sweet little girl. I hold
your hand, and you've kissed me.
Jack! Oceans of love ...
Oh, my poor little baby!
Come over here,
my poor little blossom.
My poor, little, brilliant doctor.
- What a naughty bear.
- Arthur Holmwood, Esquire.
My darling.
I'm so sorry about your hat.
This is my snake dress.
Lucy is a pure and virtuous girl,
but she does shock me sometimes.
Jonathan says a defect of the rich
is that they say what they please.
But I admire Lucy and I'm not
surprised men flock around her.
I wish I were as pretty
and as adored as she.
You are the love of my life.
What manner of man is this?
R.N. Renfield, successful solicitor
in the firm of Hawkins & Thompkins.
Member of the Wyndham Club.
He returns from business abroad
in Transylvania -
- and suffers a mental breakdown.
He's obsessed with some bloodlust.
George.
Wait here.
Would you care for an hors d'oeuvre,
doctor, or a canapй?
- No, thank you. How are you?
- Better than my love-sick doctor.
- Does my private life interest you?
- Of course. All life interests me.
- Your diet is disgusting.
- They're perfectly nutritious.
Each life that I ingest
gives back life to me.
- A fly gives you life?
- Certainly.
You'll eat molecules with chopsticks
before I eat the lesser carnivorae.
I shall have to invent a new
classification of lunatic for you.
What about spiders?
Spiders eat the flies.
- Yes, spiders eat them.
- What about sparrows?
- Yes ... did you say sparrows?
- Something larger perhaps?
Oh yes ...
A kitten. I beg you!
A little, sleek, playful kitten.
Something I can teach.
Something I can feed.
Don't refuse me.
Wouldn't you prefer a cat?
Yes! A big cat!
My salvation depends upon it.
- Your salvation?
- Yes, lives for the Master.
Master? What master?
The Master will come.
- He's promised to make me immortal.
- How?
The blood is the life!
Blood is the life!
30th May, Castle Dracula. I think
things that I dare not confess.
The way the Count looked at
Mina's picture fills me with fear.
As if I have a part to play
in a story that is not known to me.
I didn't hear you come in.
Take care. You cut yourself.
It is more dangerous than you think.
A foul bauble of man's ... vanity.
Perhaps you should grow a beard.
The letters I requested ...
have you written them?
Good.
Should you leave these rooms, -
- you will not go to sleep
in any other part of the castle.
It is old and has many bad memories.
- Be warned.
- I'm sure I understand.
Do not put your faith in such ...
trinkets of deceit.
We are in Transylvania,
and Transylvania is not England.
Our ways are not your ways.
And to you ...
there shall be many strange things.
I've seen strange things already.
Wolves chasing me! A blue inferno!
Listen to them.
The children of the night.
- What sweet music they make.
- Music? Those animals?
I did as Dracula instructed.
I wrote three letters.
To the firm, to my family,
and to my beloved Mina.
I said nothing of my fears,
as he will read them, no doubt.
I know now that I am a prisoner.
Jonathan ...
Jonathan, come to me.
Come.
Lay down.
Lay back into my arms.
Lay back, Jonathan.
What is this? Charlatans!
Dearest Mina, all is well here.
The Count has insisted
that I remain here for a month.
I can say no more, except I
love you. Ever faithful, Jonathan.
The letters I have written
have undoubtedly sealed my doom.
The Count's gypsies, loyal to the
death to whomever they serve.
Day and night, they fill boxes with
earth from the castle's cellar.
They are to be delivered
to Carfax Abbey in London.
Why do they fill these boxes
with