Scene VII
It is a week or so later. Laura is braiding Carmilla’s hair.
Laura: Your hair, it’s so thick and long. There are too many different weaves, too many possibilities. I suppose having too many options can be worse than having one. Indecision is an option in itself. (pause) You said you came from the West. I’m interested to know what country you’re from. You have an accent that I’ve never heard before.
Carmilla: Oh, Laura, you know I’m sworn to secrecy on such things. No, not the name of my family, nor the name of our estate, and no--not the country either.
Laura: Sorry, I keep bothering you with it. It’s just curiosity scratching at the back of my throat like an animal in a cage. You’ve been here for a few weeks, so you’ll have to forgive my questioning. Don’t bother answering if you don’t want to.
Carmilla: (Leaning into Laura) “Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours...Seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit.” (Carmilla kisses Laura’s cheek. Laura isn’t sure how to respond) You are mine, and you shall be mine, you and I are one forever. (Carmilla throws herself back in her chair and covers her eyes)
Laura: I wish I knew what you mean. Are we related? Perhaps I remind you of someone whom you love or loved. (Carmilla responds to this subtly. Laura doesn’t notice) I hate it, because I think I don’t know you, but I feel like I do. You are such an obvious mystery to me or an obscure truth. I don’t feel like myself when you look at me the way you do, and when you speak like this. (Carmilla sighs and drops her head upon her hands. Laura leaves the room) Maybe it was a fit of insanity although her mother denies it. Perhaps it is all a disguise and a romance. It could be like an old adventure story, when some lover or another finds their way into the house, obscures themself during a masquerade. No, it’s all too dreamy, even for our mysterious Carmilla.
It is a week or so later. Laura is braiding Carmilla’s hair.
Laura: Your hair, it’s so thick and long. There are too many different weaves, too many possibilities. I suppose having too many options can be worse than having one. Indecision is an option in itself. (pause) You said you came from the West. I’m interested to know what country you’re from. You have an accent that I’ve never heard before.
Carmilla: Oh, Laura, you know I’m sworn to secrecy on such things. No, not the name of my family, nor the name of our estate, and no--not the country either.
Laura: Sorry, I keep bothering you with it. It’s just curiosity scratching at the back of my throat like an animal in a cage. You’ve been here for a few weeks, so you’ll have to forgive my questioning. Don’t bother answering if you don’t want to.
Carmilla: (Leaning into Laura) “Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours...Seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit.” (Carmilla kisses Laura’s cheek. Laura isn’t sure how to respond) You are mine, and you shall be mine, you and I are one forever. (Carmilla throws herself back in her chair and covers her eyes)
Laura: I wish I knew what you mean. Are we related? Perhaps I remind you of someone whom you love or loved. (Carmilla responds to this subtly. Laura doesn’t notice) I hate it, because I think I don’t know you, but I feel like I do. You are such an obvious mystery to me or an obscure truth. I don’t feel like myself when you look at me the way you do, and when you speak like this. (Carmilla sighs and drops her head upon her hands. Laura leaves the room) Maybe it was a fit of insanity although her mother denies it. Perhaps it is all a disguise and a romance. It could be like an old adventure story, when some lover or another finds their way into the house, obscures themself during a masquerade. No, it’s all too dreamy, even for our mysterious Carmilla.