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<title>Chapter Sixteen, Bram Stoker's Dracula</title>
<author>
<persName>Sari Dale</persName>
</author>
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<publicationStmt>
<ab><date when="2019-04-04"/></ab>
<ab><orgName>ENGL305/DIHU301</orgName></ab>
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<sourceDesc>
<bibl> Stoker, Bram. The Project Gutenberg Ebook of Dracula. 2013.</bibl>
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<text>
<body>
<head>Chapter XVI</head>
<div type="passage">
<head>Continued from <persName ref="#Dr.Seward">Dr. Seward's</persName> Diary,
<date>September 29th</date></head>
<p>It was just a quarter before twelve o’clock when we got into the churchyard over
the low wall. The night was dark with occasional gleams of moonlight between the
rents of the heavy clouds that scudded across the sky. We all kept somehow close
together, with <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> slightly in
front as he led the way. When we had come close to the tomb I looked well at
<persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> for I feared that the proximity to
a place laden with so sorrowful a memory would upset him; but he bore himself
well. I took it that the very mystery of the proceeding was in some way a
counteractant to his grief. The <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Professor</persName>
unlocked the door, and seeing a natural hesitation amongst us for various
reasons, solved the difficulty by entering first himself. The rest of us
followed, and he closed the door. He then lit a dark lantern and pointed to the
coffin. <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> stepped forward hesitatingly;
<persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> said to me:—</p>
<p>“You were with me here yesterday. Was the body of <persName ref="#Lucy">Miss
Lucy</persName> in that coffin?”</p>
<p>“It was.” The <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Professor</persName> turned to the rest
saying:—</p>
<p>“You hear; and yet there is no one who does not believe with me.” He took his
screwdriver and again took off the lid of the coffin. <persName ref="#Arthur"
>Arthur</persName> looked on, very pale but silent; when the lid was removed
he stepped forward. He evidently did not know that there was a leaden coffin,
or, at any rate, had not thought of it. When he saw the rent in the lead, the
<ref target="#violenterotic">blood</ref> rushed to his face for an instant,
but as quickly fell away again, so that he remained of a ghastly whiteness; he
was still silent. <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> forced back
the leaden flange, and we all looked in and recoiled.</p>
<p>The coffin was empty!</p>
<p>For several minutes no one spoke a word. The silence was broken by <persName
ref="Quincey">Quincey Morris</persName>:—</p>
<p>“<persName ref="#VanHelsing">Professor</persName>, I answered for you. Your word
is all I want. I wouldn’t ask such a thing ordinarily—I wouldn’t so dishonour
you as to imply a doubt; but this is a mystery that goes beyond any honour or
dishonour. Is this your doing?”</p>
<p>“I swear to you by all that I hold sacred that I have not removed nor touched
her. What happened was this: Two nights ago my friend Seward and I came
here—with good purpose, believe me. I opened that coffin, which was then sealed
up, and we found it, as now, empty. We then waited, and saw something white come
through the trees. The next day we came here in day-time, and she lay there. Did
she not, friend John?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“That night we were just in time. One more so small child was missing, and we
find it, thank God, unharmed amongst the graves. Yesterday I came here before
sundown, for at sundown the Un-Dead can move. I waited here all the night till
the sun rose, but I saw nothing. It was most probable that it was because I had
laid over the clamps of those doors garlic, which the Un-Dead cannot bear, and
other things which they shun. Last night there was no exodus, so to-night before
the sundown I took away my garlic and other things. And so it is we find this
coffin empty. But bear with me. So far there is much that is strange. Wait you
with me outside, unseen and unheard, and things much stranger are yet to be.
So”—here he shut the dark slide of his lantern—“now to the outside.” He opened
the door, and we filed out, he coming last and locking the door behind him.</p>
<p>Oh! but it seemed fresh and <ref target="#erotic">pure</ref> in the night air
after the terror of that vault. How <ref target="#erotic">sweet</ref> it was to
see the clouds race by, and the passing gleams of the moonlight between the
scudding clouds crossing and passing—like the gladness and sorrow of a man’s
life; how <ref target="#erotic">sweet</ref> it was to breathe the fresh air,
that had no taint of death and decay; how humanising to see the <ref
target="#erotic">red</ref> lighting of the sky beyond the hill, and to hear
far away the muffled roar that marks the life of a great city. Each in his own
way was solemn and overcome. <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> was
silent, and was, I could see, striving to grasp the purpose and the inner
meaning of the mystery. I was myself tolerably patient, and half inclined again
to throw aside doubt and to accept <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van
Helsing's</persName> conclusions. <persName ref="Quincey"> Quincey Morris
</persName>was phlegmatic in the way of a man who accepts all things, and
accepts them in the spirit of cool bravery, with hazard of all he has to stake.
Not being able to smoke, he cut himself a good-sized plug of tobacco and began
to chew. As to Van Helsing, he was employed in a definite way. First he took
from his bag a mass of what looked like thin, wafer-like biscuit, which was
carefully rolled up in a white napkin; next he took out a double-handful of some
whitish stuff, like dough or putty. He crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it
into the mass between his hands. This he then took, and rolling it into thin
strips, began to lay them into the crevices between the door and its setting in
the tomb. I was somewhat puzzled at this, and being close, asked him what it was
that he was doing. <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> and <persName
ref="Quincey">Quincey</persName> drew near also, as they too were curious.
He answered:—</p>
<p>“I am closing the tomb, so that the Un-Dead may not enter.”</p>
<p>“And is that stuff you have put there going to do it?” asked <persName
ref="Quincey">Quincey</persName>. “Great Scott! Is this a game?”</p>
<p>“It is.”</p>
<p>“What is that which you are using?” This time the question was by <persName
ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>. <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van
Helsing</persName> reverently lifted his hat as he answered:—</p>
<p>“The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have an Indulgence.” It was an answer
that appalled the most sceptical of us, and we felt individually that in the
presence of such earnest purpose as the <persName ref="#VanHelsing"
>Professor's</persName>, a purpose which could thus use the to him most
sacred of things, it was impossible to distrust. In respectful silence we took
the places assigned to us close round the tomb, but hidden from the sight of any
one approaching. I pitied the others, especially <persName ref="#Arthur"
>Arthur</persName>. I had myself been apprenticed by my former visits to
this watching horror; and yet I, who had up to an hour ago repudiated the
proofs, felt my heart sink within me. Never did tombs look so ghastly white;
never did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embodiment of funereal gloom;
never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously; never did bough creak so
mysteriously; and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful
presage through the night.</p>
<p>There was a long spell of silence, a big, aching void, and then from the
<persName ref="#VanHelsing">Professor</persName> a keen “S-s-s-s!” He
pointed; and far down the avenue of yews we saw a white figure advance—a dim
white figure, which held something dark at its <ref target="#erotic"
>breast</ref>. The figure stopped, and at the moment a ray of moonlight fell
upon the masses of driving clouds and showed in startling prominence a
dark-haired woman, dressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not see the
face, for it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child. There was
a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in sleep, or a dog as it
lies before the fire and dreams. We were starting forward, but the <persName
ref="#VanHelsing">Professor's</persName> warning hand, seen by us as he
stood behind a yew-tree, kept us back; and then as we looked the white figure
moved forwards again. It was now near enough for us to see clearly, and the
moonlight still held. My own heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the <ref
target="#erotic">gasp</ref> of <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>, as
we recognised the features of <persName ref="#Lucy">Lucy Westerna</persName>.
<persName ref="#Lucy">Lucy Westerna</persName>, but yet how changed. The
<ref target="#erotic">sweetness</ref> was turned to adamantine, heartless
cruelty, and the purity to <ref target="#erotic">voluptuous</ref>
<ref target="#erotic">wantonness</ref>. <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van
Helsing</persName> stepped out, and, obedient to his gesture, we all
advanced too; the four of us ranged in a line before the door of the tomb.
<persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> raised his lantern and
drew the slide; by the concentrated light that fell on <persName ref="#Lucy"
>Lucy's</persName> face we could see that the <ref target="#erotic"
>lips</ref> were <ref target="#violent">crimson</ref> with fresh <ref
target="#violenterotic">blood</ref>, and that the stream had trickled over
her chin and stained the <ref target="#erotic">purity</ref> of her lawn
death-robe.</p>
<p>We <ref target="#violenterotic">shuddered</ref> with horror. I could see by the
tremulous light that even <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing's</persName>’s
iron nerve had failed. <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> was next to me,
and if I had not seized his arm and held him up, he would have fallen.</p>
<p>When <persName ref="#Lucy">Lucy</persName>—I call the thing that was before us
<persName ref="#Lucy">Lucy</persName> because it bore her shape—saw us she
drew back with an angry <ref target="#violent">snarl</ref>, such as a cat gives
when taken unawares; then her eyes ranged over us. <persName ref="#Lucy"
>Lucy's</persName> eyes in form and colour; but <persName ref="#Lucy"
>Lucy's</persName> eyes unclean and full of hell-fire, instead of the pure,
gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the remnant of my <ref target="#erotic"
>love</ref> passed into hate and loathing; had she then to be <ref
target="#violent">killed</ref>, I could have done it with savage <ref
target="#erotic">delight</ref>. As she looked, her eyes blazed with unholy
light, and the face became wreathed with a <ref target="#erotic"
>voluptuous</ref> smile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it! With a
careless motion, she <ref target="#violent">flung to the ground</ref>, callous
as a devil, the child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her <ref
target="#erotic">breast</ref>, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone.
The child gave a sharp cry, and lay there <ref target="#violenterotic"
>moaning</ref>. There was a cold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a <ref
target="#erotic">groan</ref> from <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>;
when she advanced to him with outstretched arms and a <ref target="#erotic"
>wanton</ref> smile he fell back and hid his face in his hands.</p>
<p>She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, <ref target="#erotic"
>voluptuous</ref> grace, said:—</p>
<p>“Come to me, <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>. Leave these others and
come to me. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my
husband, come!”</p>
<p>There was something <ref target="#violenterotic">diabolically sweet</ref> in her
tones—something of the tingling of glass when struck—which rang through the
brains even of us who heard the words addressed to another. As for <persName
ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>, he seemed under a spell; moving his hands
from his face, he opened wide his arms. She was leaping for them, when <persName
ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> sprang forward and held between
them his little golden crucifix. She <ref target="#violent">recoiled</ref> from
it, and, with a suddenly <ref target="#violent">distorted</ref> face, full of
rage, dashed past him as if to enter the tomb.</p>
<p>When within a foot or two of the door, however, she stopped, as if arrested by
some <ref target="#erotic">irresistible</ref> force. Then she turned, and her
face was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp, which had now no
quiver from <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing's</persName> iron nerves.
Never did I see such baffled malice on a face; and never, I trust, shall such
ever be seen again by mortal eyes. The <ref target="#erotic">beautiful</ref>
colour became livid, the eyes seemed to <ref target="#violent">throw out sparks
of hell-fire</ref>, the brows were wrinkled as though the folds of the flesh
were the coils of Medusa’s snakes, and the <ref target="#erotic">lovely</ref>,
<ref target="#violenterotic">blood</ref>-stained <ref target="#erotic"
>mouth</ref>grew to an open square, as in the passion masks of the Greeks
and Japanese. If ever a face meant death—if looks could <ref target="#violent"
>kill</ref>—we saw it at that moment.</p>
<p>And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, she remained between the
lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her means of entry. <persName
ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> broke the silence by asking
<persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>:—</p>
<p>“Answer me, oh my friend! Am I to proceed in my work?”</p>
<p><persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> threw himself on his knees, and hid his
face in his hands, as he answered:—</p>
<p>“Do as you will, friend; do as you will. There can be no horror like this ever
any more;” and he groaned in spirit. <persName ref="Quincey">Quincey </persName>
and I simultaneously moved towards him, and took his arms. We could hear the
click of the closing lantern as Van Helsing held it down; coming close to the
tomb, he began to remove from the chinks some of the sacred emblem which he had
placed there. We all looked on in horrified amazement as we saw, when he stood
back, the woman, with a corporeal body as real at that moment as our own, pass
in through the interstice where scarce a <ref target="#violent"
>knife-blade</ref> could have gone. We all felt a glad sense of relief when
we saw the <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Professor</persName> calmly restoring the
strings of putty to the edges of the door.</p>
<p>When this was done, he lifted the child and said:</p>
<p>“Come now, my friends; we can do no more till to-morrow. There is a funeral at
noon, so here we shall all come before long after that. The friends of the dead
will all be gone by two, and when the sexton lock the gate we shall remain. Then
there is more to do; but not like this of to-night. As for this little one, he
is not much harm, and by to-morrow night he shall be well. We shall leave him
where the police will find him, as on the other night; and then to home.” Coming
close to <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>, he said:—</p>
<p>“My friend <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>, you have had a sore trial;
but after, when you look back, you will see how it was necessary. You are now in
the bitter waters, my child. By this time to-morrow you will, please God, have
passed them, and have drunk of the <ref target="#erotic">sweet</ref> waters; so
do not mourn overmuch. Till then I shall not ask you to forgive me.”</p>
<p><persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> and <persName ref="Quincey"
>Quincey</persName> came home with me, and we tried to cheer each other on
the way. We had left the child in safety, and were tired; so we all slept with
more or less reality of sleep.</p>
</div>
<div type="passage">
<head><date>September 29th</date>, <time>night</time></head>
<p>—A little before <time>twelve o’clock</time> we three—<persName ref="#Arthur"
>Arthur</persName>, <persName ref="Quincey">Quincey Morris</persName>, and
myself—called for the <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Professor</persName>. It was
odd to notice that by common consent we had all put on black clothes. Of course,
<persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> wore black, for he was in deep
mourning, but the rest of us wore it by instinct. We got to the churchyard by
half-past one, and strolled about, keeping out of official observation, so that
when the gravediggers had completed their task and the sexton under the belief
that every one had gone, had locked the gate, we had the place all to ourselves.
<persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName>, instead of his little
black bag, had with him a long leather one, something like a cricketing bag; it
was manifestly of fair weight.</p>
<p>When we were alone and had heard the last of the footsteps die out up the road,
we silently, and as if by ordered intention, followed the <persName
ref="#VanHelsing">Professor</persName> to the tomb. He unlocked the door,
and we entered, closing it behind us. Then he took from his bag the lantern,
which he lit, and also two wax candles, which, when lighted, he stuck, by
melting their own ends, on other coffins, so that they might give light
sufficient to work by. When he again lifted the lid off <persName ref="#Lucy"
>Lucy's</persName> coffin we all looked—<persName ref="#Arthur"
>Arthur</persName>
<ref target="#erotic">trembling</ref> like an aspen—and saw that the body lay
there in all its <ref target="#violenterotic">death-beauty</ref> But there was
no <ref target="#erotic">love</ref> in my own heart, nothing but loathing for
the foul Thing which had taken <persName ref="#Lucy">Lucy's</persName> shape
without her soul. I could see even <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>’s
face grow hard as he looked. Presently he said to Van Helsing:—</p>
<p>“Is this really <persName ref="#Lucy">Lucy's</persName> body, or only a demon in
her shape?”</p>
<p>“It is her body, and yet not it. But wait a while, and you all see her as she
was, and is.”</p>
<p>She seemed like a nightmare of <persName ref="#Lucy">Lucy</persName> as she lay
there; the <ref target="#violenterotic">pointed teeth</ref>, the <ref
target="#violenterotic">bloodstained</ref>, <ref target="#erotic"
>voluptuous</ref> mouth—which it made one <ref target="#erotic"
>shudder</ref> to see—the whole <ref target="#erotic">carnal</ref> and
unspiritual appearance, seeming like a devilish mockery of <persName ref="#Lucy"
>Lucy's</persName>
<ref target="#erotic">sweet purity</ref>. <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van
Helsing</persName>, with his usual methodicalness, began taking the various
contents from his bag and placing them ready for use. First he took out a
soldering iron and some plumbing solder, and then a small oil-lamp, which gave
out, when lit in a corner of the tomb, gas which burned at fierce heat with a
blue flame; then his operating knives, which he placed to hand; and last a round
<ref target="#violent">wooden stake</ref>, some two and a half or three
inches thick and about three feet long. One end of it was hardened by charring
in the fire, and was sharpened to a fine point. With this stake came a heavy<ref
target="#violent"> hammer</ref>, such as in households is used in the
coal-cellar for breaking the lumps. To me, a doctor’s preparations for work of
any kind are stimulating and bracing, but the effect of these things on both
<persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> and <persName ref="Quincey"
>Quincey</persName> was to cause them a sort of consternation. They both,
however, kept their courage, and remained silent and quiet.</p>
<p>When all was ready, <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> said:—</p>
<p>“Before we do anything, let me tell you this; it is out of the lore and
experience of the ancients and of all those who have studied the powers of the
Un-Dead. When they become such, there comes with the change the curse of
immortality; they cannot <ref target="#violent">die</ref>, but must go on age
after age adding new victims and multiplying the evils of the world; for all
that die from the preying of the Un-Dead becomes themselves Un-Dead, and <ref
target="#violenterotic">prey</ref> on their kind. And so the circle goes on
ever widening, like as the ripples from a stone thrown in the water. Friend
<persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>, if you had met that <ref
target="#erotic">kiss</ref> which you know of before poor <persName
ref="#Lucy">Lucy</persName>
<ref target="#violent">die</ref>; or again, last night when you open your arms
to her, you would in time, when you had died, have become nosferatu, as they
call it in Eastern Europe, and would all time make more of those Un-Deads that
so have fill us with horror. The career of this so unhappy dear lady is but just
begun. Those children whose <ref target="#violenterotic">blood</ref> she <ref
target="#violenterotic">suck</ref> are not as yet so much the worse; but if
she live on, Un-Dead, more and more they lose their <ref target="#violenterotic"
>blood</ref> and by her power over them they come to her; and so she draw
their blood with that so <ref target="#violenterotic">wicked mouth</ref>. But if
she die in truth, then all cease; the tiny <ref target="#violent">wounds</ref>
of the <ref target="#erotic">throats</ref> disappear, and they go back to their
plays unknowing ever of what has been. But of the most blessed of all, when this
now Un-Dead be made to rest as true dead, then the soul of the poor lady whom we
<ref target="#erotic">love</ref> shall again be free. Instead of working
wickedness by night and growing more debased in the assimilating of it by day,
she shall take her place with the other Angels. So that, my friend, it will be a
blessed hand for her that shall strike the blow that sets her free. To this I am
willing; but is there none amongst us who has a better right? Will it be no joy
to think of hereafter in the silence of the night when sleep is not: ‘It was my
hand that sent her to the stars; it was the hand of him that loved her best; the
hand that of all she would herself have chosen, had it been to her to choose?’
Tell me if there be such a one amongst us?”</p>
<p>We all looked at <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>. He saw, too, what we
all did, the infinite kindness which suggested that his should be the hand which
would restore <persName ref="#Lucy">Lucy</persName> to us as a holy, and not an
unholy, memory; he stepped forward and said bravely, though his hand <ref
target="erotic">trembled</ref>, and his face was as pale as snow:—</p>
<p>“My true friend, from the bottom of my broken heart I thank you. Tell me what I
am to do, and I shall not falter!” <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van
Helsing</persName> laid a hand on his shoulder, and said:—</p>
<p>“Brave lad! A moment’s courage, and it is done. <ref target="#violent">This stake
must be driven through her</ref>. It will be a fearful ordeal—be not
deceived in that—but it will be only a short time, and you will then rejoice
more than your <ref target="#violent">pain</ref> was great; from this grim tomb
you will emerge as though you tread on air. But you must not falter when once
you have begun. Only think that we, your true friends, are round you, and that
we pray for you all the time.”</p>
<p>“Go on,” said <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> hoarsely. “Tell me what I
am to do.”</p>
<p>“Take this <ref target="#violent">stake</ref> in your left hand, ready to place
the point over the heart, and the <ref target="#violent">hammer</ref> in your
right. Then when we begin our prayer for the dead—I shall read him, I have here
the book, and the others shall follow—strike in God’s name, that so all may be
well with the dead that we <ref target="#erotic">love</ref> and that the Un-Dead
pass away.”</p>
<p><persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> took the <ref target="#violent">stake
and the hammer</ref>, and when once his mind was set on action his hands
never <ref target="#erotic">trembled nor even quivered</ref>. <persName
ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> opened his missal and began to
read, and <persName ref="Quincey">Quincey</persName> and I followed as well as
we could. <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> placed the point over the
heart, and as I looked I could see its dint in the white flesh. <ref
target="#violent">Then he struck with all his might</ref>.</p>
<p>The Thing in the coffin <ref target="#violenterotic">writhed</ref>; and a
hideous, blood-curdling screech came from the opened <ref target="#erotic">red
lips</ref>. The body <ref target="#violenterotic">shook and quivered and
twisted in wild contortions; the sharp white teeth champed together till the
lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson foam</ref>. But
<persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> never faltered. He looked like a
figure of Thor as his untrembling arm rose and fell, <ref target="#violent"
>driving deeper and deeper the mercy-bearing stake</ref>, whilst the <ref
target="#violenterotic">blood</ref> from the pierced heart welled and
spurted up around it. His face was set, and high duty seemed to shine through
it; the sight of it gave us courage so that our voices seemed to ring through
the little vault.</p>
<p>And then the <ref target="#violenterotic">writhing and quivering</ref>of the body
became less, and the teeth seemed to champ, and the face to <ref
target="#erotic">quiver</ref>. Finally it lay still. The terrible task was
over.</p>
<p>The <ref target="#violent">hammer</ref> fell from <persName ref="#Arthur"
>Arthur</persName>’s hand. He reeled and would have fallen had we not caught
him. The great drops of <ref target="#erotic">sweat</ref> sprang from his
forehead, and his breath came in broken <ref target="#erotic">gasps</ref>. It
had indeed been an awful strain on him; and had he not been forced to his task
by more than human considerations he could never have gone through with it. For
a few minutes we were so taken up with him that we did not look towards the
coffin. When we did, however, a murmur of startled surprise ran from one to the
other of us. We gazed so eagerly that <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>
rose, for he had been seated on the ground, and came and looked too; and then a
glad, strange light broke over his face and dispelled altogether the gloom of
horror that lay upon it.</p>
<p>There, in the coffin lay no longer the foul Thing that we had so dreaded and
grown to hate that the work of her destruction was yielded as a privilege to the
one best entitled to it, but <persName ref="#Lucy">Lucy</persName> as we had
seen her in her life, with her face of unequalled <ref target="#erotic"
>sweetness and purity</ref>. True that there were there, as we had seen them
in life, the traces of care and pain and waste; but these were all dear to us,
for they marked her truth to what we knew. One and all we felt that the holy
calm that lay like sunshine over the wasted face and form was only an earthly
token and symbol of the calm that was to reign for ever.</p>
<p><persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> came and laid his hand on
<persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>’s shoulder, and said to him:—</p>
<p>“And now, <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> my friend, dear lad, am I not
forgiven?”</p>
<p>The reaction of the terrible strain came as he took the old man’s hand in his,
and raising it to his <ref target="#erotic">lips</ref>, pressed it, and
said:—</p>
<p>“Forgiven! God bless you that you have given my dear one her soul again, and me
peace.” He put his hands on the <persName ref="#VanHelsing"
>Professor's</persName> shoulder, and laying his head on his breast, cried
for a while silently, whilst we stood unmoving. When he raised his head
<persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName> said to him:—</p>
<p>“And now, my child, you may <ref target="#erotic">kiss</ref> her. <ref
target="#violenterotic">Kiss her dead lips</ref> if you will, as she would
have you to, if for her to choose. For she is not a grinning devil now—not any
more a foul Thing for all eternity. No longer she is the devil’s Un-Dead. She is
God’s true dead, whose soul is with Him!”</p>
<p><persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName> bent and <ref target="#erotic"
>kissed</ref> her, and then we sent him and <persName ref="Quincey"
>Quincey</persName> out of the tomb; the <persName ref="#VanHelsing"
>Professor</persName> and I sawed the top off the <ref target="#violent"
>stake</ref>, leaving the point of it in the body. Then we <ref
target="#violent">cut off the head</ref> and filled the <ref
target="#erotic">mouth</ref> with garlic. We soldered up the leaden coffin,
screwed on the coffin-lid, and gathering up our belongings, came away. When the
<persName ref="#VanHelsing">Professor</persName> locked the door he gave the
key to <persName ref="#Arthur">Arthur</persName>.</p>
<p>Outside the air was <ref target="#erotic">sweet</ref>, the sun shone, and the
birds sang, and it seemed as if all nature were tuned to a different pitch.
There was gladness and mirth and peace everywhere, for we were at rest ourselves
on one account, and we were glad, though it was with a tempered joy.</p>
<p>Before we moved away <persName ref="#VanHelsing">Van Helsing</persName>
said:—</p>
<p>“Now, my friends, one step of our work is done, one the most harrowing to
ourselves. But there remains a greater task: to find out the author of all this
our sorrow and to stamp him out. I have clues which we can follow; but it is a
long task, and a difficult, and there is danger in it, and <ref
target="#violent">pain</ref>. Shall you not all help me? We have learned to
believe, all of us—is it not so? And since so, do we not see our duty? Yes! And
do we not promise to go on to the bitter end?”</p>
<p>Each in turn, we took his hand, and the promise was made. Then said the <persName
ref="#VanHelsing">Professor</persName> as we moved off:—</p>
<p>“Two nights hence you shall meet with me and dine together at seven of the clock
with friend John. I shall entreat two others, two that you know not as yet; and
I shall be ready to all our work show and our plans unfold. Friend John, you
come with me home, for I have much to consult about, and you can help me.
To-night I leave for Amsterdam, but shall return to-morrow night. And then
begins our great quest. But first I shall have much to say, so that you may know
what is to do and to dread. Then our promise shall be made to each other anew;
for there is a terrible task before us, and once our feet are on the ploughshare
we must not draw back.”</p>
</div>
</body>
<back>
<div type="rationale">
<head>The Violent Erotic</head>
<ab xml:id="erotic"><emph>Erotic</emph> - What constitutes erotic language was
decided through word frequency studies in Victorian pornographic texts. This
language set is largely characterized by adjectives such as wanton and
voluptuous.</ab>
<ab xml:id="violent"><emph>Violent</emph> - Violent language is characterized by
weapons and descriptions of weaponry. I have also included verbs describing
violence and words related to wounds and wounding.</ab>
<ab xml:id="violenterotic"><emph>The Violent Erotic</emph> - Violent erotic language
describes overlap between the erotic and violent language sets. There are a
number of words and phrases that belong to both, implying a shared vocabulary
between sex acts and violence.</ab>
</div>
<div>
<listPerson>
<person xml:id="Arthur">
<persName>Arthur Holmwood</persName>
<occupation type="role">Arthur Holmwood is the wealthy son of Lord
Goldaming. When his father dies, he inherits his title. He is betrothed
to Lucy Westerna earlier on in the novel before Count Dracula transforms
her into a vampire.</occupation>
</person>
<person xml:id="Lucy">
<persName>Lucy Westenra</persName>
<occupation type="role">Lucy Westenra is the best friend of Mina Murray. She
comes from a wealthy family and is decribed throughout the novel as
physically attractive. She has a history of sleepwalking, which makes
her susceptible to Dracula's enchantment. She becomes mysteriously ill
several times before dying and returning to life as a
vampire.</occupation>
<age>19</age>
</person>
<person xml:id="Dr.Seward">
<persName>Dr. John Seward</persName>
<occupation type="role">Best friends with Arthur Holmwood and Quincey
Morris, Dr. Seward is a psychiatrist at a mental institute. His
observations of R. M. Renfield allow the reader insight into the
characteristics of a vampire. Much of the novel is written from his
perspective.</occupation>
</person>
<person xml:id="VanHelsing">
<persName>Abraham Van Helsing</persName>
<occupation type="role">Van Helsing is invited Dr. Seward to help diagnose
the condition of Lucy Westerna, whose state is quickly deteriorating.
Van Helsing is well-versed in a number of subjects including vampirism.
He is the one who first understands that Lucy is the victim of a
vampire. After she dies, he instructs Arthur, Dr. Seward, and Quincey on
how to kill Lucy's undead corpse.</occupation>
</person>
<person xml:id="Quincey">
<persName>Quincey Morris</persName>
<occupation>Quincey Morris is a wealthy American from Texas. He, along with
Arthur, Dr. Seward, and Van Helsing, is part of the Crew of Light, which
sets out to destroy Dracula</occupation>
</person>
</listPerson>
</div>
</back>
</text>
</TEI>
