Scene VIII
Laura and Carmilla are walking through the woods together and stop at a bench when Carmilla gets tired as she usually does.
Carmilla: Let’s sit here for a while. It’d such a beautiful day. You will sit by me, won’t you? (Laura joins her and sits very close) Ah, the zephyr is light and breezy like my homeland, and the air smells sweet and dewy. This must be a lovely place to live! The thick forest, and twisting little streams. The gallanting wildlife that runs past us. It’s all so wonderful. I wonder if I even want to go home anymore, with you here and all.
Laura: It’s your home, too. You will always be welcome here. I would never turn anyone so dear as you away!
Carmilla: Oh, sometimes I wish I were as gentle as you, but I don’t think I ever can be. Laura, you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met and certainly the kindest. I’ve traveled so far over so many years and so few can compare to you.
Laura: (blushes) Carm, thank you. Thank you so much. (hugs her)
Carmilla: I see a funeral procession coming by.
Laura: (raises her head from Carmilla’s shoulder) Say, I know that man. He had only a single child, a beautiful young girl. The way he hangs his head. I remember hearing the news, but it’s so hard to believe. Oh, dear...it must be her. It could only be her.
(The procession sings a hymn and Laura stands and joins. Carmilla begins to look pained and presses her hands against her temples)
Carmilla: Oh, stop! (shakes Laura roughly) Quit this nonsense! It’s not your place. You’re not part of the funeral, so it makes no sense to sing the hymns!
Laura: I happen to think it rather sweet! Quite contrary to what you think. Besides, I knew her! (Laura resumes)
Carmilla: (standing up) You’ll make my ears bleed with your obstinance! That jargon, it torments me. Your songs wound me, and I particularly hate funerals. They are meaningless! Trite! I don’t see why the living waste their time on the dead. Waste the remaining minutes on those who won’t even be around to appreciate it. Why, you’ll die someday. Everyone will die, and we’ll be happier when they do! Now, come home!
Laura: My father’s gone with them to the churchyard. I thought you knew that she was being buried today.
Carmilla: Her? What should I care for peasants? I don’t know her. I’ve never gotten to know her. She’s no more than a stranger to me. (her voice sounds slightly pained)
Laura: She’s the girl who claimed to have seen an apparition some weeks ago and has been slowly dying ever since.
Carmilla: If you keep talking of ghosts and ghouls like this, I won’t sleep a wink tonight.
Laura: I hope there isn’t a bout of illness, a plague of sorts, but it seems like there is. The swineherd’s young wife died a week ago, claiming that something had seized her by the throat as she laid in bed. It’s unsettling, even if it’s all some delusion created by the illness. Father says illness can do that.
Carmilla: (pauses) Well, her funeral has ended, I hope, and her hymn has been sung, I reckon, so our ears won’t be plagued with all that discord.
Laura: You say that almost as if you were jealous...
Carmilla: Come sit by me. It just...makes me nervous. That’s all. (holds Laura’s hand and starts to shake and grit her teeth) See what happens? I tell you, I can’t help it. Hold me, hold me still while it passes. (she eventually calms)
Laura: I think we should head home now. (Carmilla nods)
Laura and Carmilla are walking through the woods together and stop at a bench when Carmilla gets tired as she usually does.
Carmilla: Let’s sit here for a while. It’d such a beautiful day. You will sit by me, won’t you? (Laura joins her and sits very close) Ah, the zephyr is light and breezy like my homeland, and the air smells sweet and dewy. This must be a lovely place to live! The thick forest, and twisting little streams. The gallanting wildlife that runs past us. It’s all so wonderful. I wonder if I even want to go home anymore, with you here and all.
Laura: It’s your home, too. You will always be welcome here. I would never turn anyone so dear as you away!
Carmilla: Oh, sometimes I wish I were as gentle as you, but I don’t think I ever can be. Laura, you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met and certainly the kindest. I’ve traveled so far over so many years and so few can compare to you.
Laura: (blushes) Carm, thank you. Thank you so much. (hugs her)
Carmilla: I see a funeral procession coming by.
Laura: (raises her head from Carmilla’s shoulder) Say, I know that man. He had only a single child, a beautiful young girl. The way he hangs his head. I remember hearing the news, but it’s so hard to believe. Oh, dear...it must be her. It could only be her.
(The procession sings a hymn and Laura stands and joins. Carmilla begins to look pained and presses her hands against her temples)
Carmilla: Oh, stop! (shakes Laura roughly) Quit this nonsense! It’s not your place. You’re not part of the funeral, so it makes no sense to sing the hymns!
Laura: I happen to think it rather sweet! Quite contrary to what you think. Besides, I knew her! (Laura resumes)
Carmilla: (standing up) You’ll make my ears bleed with your obstinance! That jargon, it torments me. Your songs wound me, and I particularly hate funerals. They are meaningless! Trite! I don’t see why the living waste their time on the dead. Waste the remaining minutes on those who won’t even be around to appreciate it. Why, you’ll die someday. Everyone will die, and we’ll be happier when they do! Now, come home!
Laura: My father’s gone with them to the churchyard. I thought you knew that she was being buried today.
Carmilla: Her? What should I care for peasants? I don’t know her. I’ve never gotten to know her. She’s no more than a stranger to me. (her voice sounds slightly pained)
Laura: She’s the girl who claimed to have seen an apparition some weeks ago and has been slowly dying ever since.
Carmilla: If you keep talking of ghosts and ghouls like this, I won’t sleep a wink tonight.
Laura: I hope there isn’t a bout of illness, a plague of sorts, but it seems like there is. The swineherd’s young wife died a week ago, claiming that something had seized her by the throat as she laid in bed. It’s unsettling, even if it’s all some delusion created by the illness. Father says illness can do that.
Carmilla: (pauses) Well, her funeral has ended, I hope, and her hymn has been sung, I reckon, so our ears won’t be plagued with all that discord.
Laura: You say that almost as if you were jealous...
Carmilla: Come sit by me. It just...makes me nervous. That’s all. (holds Laura’s hand and starts to shake and grit her teeth) See what happens? I tell you, I can’t help it. Hold me, hold me still while it passes. (she eventually calms)
Laura: I think we should head home now. (Carmilla nods)