STORYOFTHEDOOR
Mr.
Uttersonthelawyerwasamanofaruggedcountenancethatwasneverlightedbyasmile;
cold,scantyandembarrassedindiscourse;
backwardinsentiment;
lean,long,dusty,drearyandyet
ما
somehowlovable.Atfriendlymeetings,andwhenthewinewastohistaste,somethingeminentlyhumanbeaconedfromhiseye;
something
الواقع
indeedwhichneverfounditswayintohistalk,butwhichspokenotonlyinthesesilentsymbolsoftheafter-dinnerface,butmoreoftenandloudlyintheactsofhislife.Hewasausterewithhimself;
drankginwhenhewasalone,tomortifyatasteforvintages;
andthoughheenjoyedthetheatre,hadnotcrossedthedoorsofonefortwentyyears.
Buthehadanapprovedtoleranceforothers;
sometimeswondering,almostwithenvy,atthehigh
الضغط
pressureofspiritsinvolvedintheirmisdeeds;andinanyextremityinclinedtohelpratherthantoreprove.
“IinclinetoCain’sheresy,”heusedtosayquaintly:
“Iletmybrothergotothe
الشيطان
devilinhisownway.”Inthischaracter,itwasfrequentlyhisfortunetobethelastreputableacquaintanceandthelastgoodinfluenceinthelivesofdowngoingmen.
Andtosuchasthese,solongastheycameabouthischambers,henevermarkedashadeofchangeinhisdemeanour.
NodoubtthefeatwaseasytoMr.Utterson;
forhewasundemonstrativeatthebest,andevenhisfriendshipseemedtobefoundedina
مماثلة
similarcatholicityofgood-nature.Itisthemarkofamodestmantoaccepthisfriendly
دائرة
circleready-madefromthehandsofالفرصة
opportunity;andthatwasthelawyer’sway.
Hisfriendswerethoseofhisownbloodorthosewhomhehadknownthelongest;
hisaffections,likeivy,werethegrowthoftime,theyimpliednoaptnessinthe
الكائن
object.Hence,nodoubtthebondthatunitedhimtoMr.RichardEnfield,hisdistantkinsman,thewell-knownmanabouttown.
Itwasanuttocrackformany,whatthesetwocouldseeineachother,orwhat
الموضوع
subjecttheycouldfindincommon.ItwasreportedbythosewhoencounteredthemintheirSundaywalks,thattheysaidnothing,lookedsingularlydullandwouldhailwith
الواضح
obviousrelieftheappearanceofafriend.Forallthat,thetwomenputthegreateststorebytheseexcursions,countedthemthechiefjewelofeachweek,andnotonlysetasideoccasionsofpleasure,butevenresistedthecallsofbusiness,thattheymightenjoythemuninterrupted.
Itchancedononeoftheseramblesthattheirwayledthemdownaby-streetinabusyquarterofLondon.
Thestreetwassmallandwhatiscalledquiet,butitdroveathriving
تجارة
tradeontheweekdays.Theinhabitantswerealldoingwell,itseemedandallemulouslyhopingtodobetterstill,andlayingoutthesurplusoftheirgrainsincoquetry;
sothattheshopfrontsstoodalongthatthoroughfarewithanairofinvitation,likerowsofsmilingsaleswomen.
EvenonSunday,whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmsandlaycomparativelyemptyofpassage,thestreetshoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,likeafireinaforest;
andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyofnote,instantlycaughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger.
Twodoorsfromone
زاوية
corner,onthelefthandgoingeastthelinewasbrokenbytheentryofacourt;andjustatthatpointacertainsinister
كتلة
blockofbuildingthrustforwarditsgableonthestreet.Itwastwostoreyshigh;
showednowindow,nothingbutadooronthe
السفلي
lowerstoreyandablindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;andboreineveryfeature,themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence.
Thedoor,whichwasequippedwithneither
جرس
bellnorknocker,wasblisteredanddistained.Trampsslouchedintotherecessandstruckmatchesonthepanels;
childrenkeptshopuponthesteps;
theschoolboyhadtriedhisknifeonthemouldings;
andforcloseonageneration,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorsortorepairtheirravages.
Mr.
Enfieldandthelawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street;
butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformerlifteduphiscaneandpointed.
“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”
heasked;
andwhenhiscompanionhadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”addedhe,“withavery
غريبة
oddstory.”“Indeed?”
saidMr.Utterson,withaslightchangeofvoice,“andwhatwasthat?”
“Well,itwasthisway,”returnedMr.Enfield:
“Iwascominghomefromsomeplaceattheendoftheworld,aboutthreeo’clockofablack
الشتاء
wintermorning,andmywaylaythroughapartoftownwheretherewasliterallynothingtobeseenbutlamps.Streetafterstreetandallthefolksasleep—streetafterstreet,alllightedupasifforaprocessionandallasemptyasachurch—tillatlastIgotintothatstateofmindwhenamanlistensandlistensandbeginstolongforthesightofapoliceman.
Allatonce,Isawtwofigures:
onealittlemanwhowasstumpingalongeastwardatagoodwalk,andtheotheragirlofmaybeeightortenwhowasrunningashardasshewasabledownacrossstreet.
Well,sir,thetworanintooneanothernaturallyenoughatthe
الزاوية
corner;andthencamethehorriblepartofthething;
forthemantrampledcalmlyoverthechild’sbodyandleftherscreamingontheground.
Itsoundsnothingtohear,butitwashellishtosee.
Itwasn’tlikeaman;
itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut.
Igaveafewhalloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmygentleman,andbroughthimbacktowheretherewasalreadyquiteagroupaboutthescreamingchild.
Hewasperfectlycoolandmadenoresistance,butgavemeonelook,souglythatitbroughtoutthe
العرق
sweatonmelikerunning.Thepeoplewhohadturnedoutwerethegirl’sownfamily;
andprettysoon,thedoctor,forwhomshehadbeensentputinhisappearance.
Well,thechildwasnotmuchtheworse,morefrightened,accordingtothesawbones;
andthereyoumighthavesupposedwouldbeanendtoit.
Buttherewasonecuriouscircumstance.
Ihadtakenaloathingtomygentlemanatfirstsight.
Sohadthechild’sfamily,whichwasonlynatural.
Butthedoctor’scasewaswhatstruckme.
Hewasthe
المعتاد
usualcutanddryapothecary,ofnoمعين
particularageandcolour,withastrongEdinburghaccentandaboutasemotionalasabagpipe.Well,sir,hewasliketherestofus;
everytimehelookedatmyprisoner,Isawthatsawbonesturnsickandwhitewiththe
الرغبة
desiretokillhim.Iknewwhatwasinhismind,justasheknewwhatwasinmine;
andkillingbeingoutofthequestion,wedidthenextbest.
WetoldthemanwecouldandwouldmakesuchascandaloutofthisasshouldmakehisnamestinkfromoneendofLondontotheother.
Ifhehadanyfriendsorany
ائتمان
credit,weundertookthatheshouldlosethem.Andallthetime,aswewerepitchingitinredhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasbestwecouldfortheywereaswildasharpies.
Ineversawa
دائرة
circleofsuchhatefulfaces;andtherewasthemaninthemiddle,withakindofblacksneeringcoolness—frightenedtoo,Icouldseethat—butcarryingitoff,sir,reallylikeSatan.
‘Ifyouchoosetomake
رأس مال
capitaloutofthisaccident,’saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless.No
محترم
gentlemanbutwishestoavoidascene,’sayshe.‘Nameyourfigure.’Well,wescrewedhimuptoahundredpoundsforthechild’sfamily;
hewouldhave
الواضح
clearlylikedtostickout;buttherewassomethingaboutthelotofusthatmeantmischief,andatlasthestruck.
Thenextthingwastogetthemoney;
andwheredoyouthinkhecarriedusbuttothatplacewiththedoor?—whippedoutakey,wentin,andpresentlycamebackwiththematteroftenpoundsingoldandachequeforthe
الرصيد
balanceonCoutts’s,drawnpayabletobearerandsignedwithanamethatIcan’tmention,thoughit’soneofthepointsofmystory,butitwasanameatleastverywellknownandoftenprinted.Thefigurewasstiff;
butthesignaturewasgoodformorethanthatifitwasonlygenuine.
Itookthelibertyofpointingouttomygentlemanthatthewholebusinesslookedapocryphal,andthatamandoesnot,inreallife,walkintoacellardooratfourinthemorningandcomeoutwithanotherman’schequeforcloseuponahundredpounds.
Buthewasquiteeasyandsneering.
‘Setyourmindatrest,’sayshe,‘Iwillstaywithyoutillthebanksopenandcashthechequemyself.’Soweallsetoff,thedoctor,andthechild’sfather,andourfriendandmyself,andpassedtherestofthenightinmychambers;
andnextday,whenwehadbreakfasted,wentinabodytothebank.
Igaveinthechequemyself,andsaidIhadeveryreasontobelieveitwasaforgery.
Notabitofit.
Thechequewasgenuine.”
“Tut-tut!”
saidMr.Utterson.
“IseeyoufeelasIdo,”saidMr.Enfield.
“Yes,it’sabadstory.
Formymanwasafellowthatnobodycouldhavetodowith,areallydamnableman;
andthepersonthatdrewthechequeistheverypinkoftheproprieties,celebratedtoo,and(whatmakesitworse)oneofyourfellowswhodowhattheycallgood.
Blackmail,Isuppose;
anhonestmanpayingthroughthenoseforsomeofthecapersofhisyouth.
Black
البريد
MailHouseiswhatIcalltheplacewiththedoor,inconsequence.Thougheventhat,youknow,isfarfromexplainingall,”headded,andwiththewordsfellintoaveinofmusing.
FromthishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonaskingrathersuddenly:
“Andyoudon’tknowifthedrawerofthechequelivesthere?”
“Alikelyplace,isn’tit?”
returnedMr.Enfield.
“ButIhappentohavenoticedhisaddress;
helivesinsome
ساحة
squareorother.”“Andyouneveraskedaboutthe—placewiththedoor?”
saidMr.Utterson.
“No,sir;
Ihadadelicacy,”wasthereply.
“Ifeelverystronglyaboutputtingquestions;
itpartakestoomuchofthe
أسلوب
styleofthedayofjudgment.Youstartaquestion,andit’slikestartinga
حجر
stone.Yousitquietlyonthetopofahill;
andawaythe
الحجر
stonegoes,startingothers;andpresentlysomeblandold
الطيور
bird(thelastyouwouldhavethoughtof)isknockedontheheadinhisownbackgardenandthefamilyhavetochangetheirname.Nosir,Imakeitaruleofmine:
themoreitlookslikeQueerStreet,thelessIask.”
“Averygoodrule,too,”saidthelawyer.
“ButIhavestudiedtheplaceformyself,”continuedMr.Enfield.
“Itseemsscarcelyahouse.
Thereisnootherdoor,andnobodygoesinoroutofthatonebut,onceinagreatwhile,thegentlemanofmyadventure.
Therearethreewindowslookingonthecourtonthefirstfloor;
none
أسفل
below;thewindowsarealwaysshutbutthey’reclean.
Andthenthereisachimneywhichisgenerallysmoking;
sosomebodymustlivethere.
Andyetit’snotsosure;
forthebuildingsaresopackedtogetheraboutthecourt,thatit’shardtosaywhereoneendsandanotherbegins.”
Thepairwalkedonagainforawhilein
صمت
silence;andthen“Enfield,”saidMr.Utterson,“that’sagoodruleofyours.”
“Yes,Ithinkitis,”returnedEnfield.
“Butforallthat,”continuedthelawyer,“there’sonepointIwanttoask.
Iwanttoaskthenameofthatmanwhowalkedoverthechild.”
“Well,”saidMr.Enfield,“Ican’tseewhat
ضرر
harmitwoulddo.ItwasamanofthenameofHyde.”
“Hm,”saidMr.Utterson.
“Whatsortofamanishetosee?”
“Heisnoteasytodescribe.
Thereissomethingwrongwithhisappearance;
somethingdispleasing,somethingdown-rightdetestable.
IneversawamanIsodisliked,andyetIscarceknowwhy.
Hemustbedeformedsomewhere;
hegivesastrongfeelingofdeformity,
الرغم
althoughIcouldn’tspecifythepoint.He’sanextraordinarylookingman,andyetIreallycannamenothingoutoftheway.
No,sir;
Icanmakenohandofit;
Ican’tdescribehim.
Andit’snotwantofmemory;
forIdeclareIcanseehimthismoment.”
Mr.
Uttersonagainwalkedsomewayin
صمت
silenceandobviouslyunderaweightofconsideration.“Youaresureheusedakey?”
heinquiredatlast.
“Mydearsir...”
beganEnfield,
مندهش
surprisedoutofhimself.“Yes,Iknow,”saidUtterson;
“Iknowitmustseemstrange.
Thefactis,ifIdonotaskyouthenameoftheotherparty,itisbecauseIknowitalready.
Yousee,Richard,yourtalehasgonehome.
Ifyouhavebeeninexactinanypointyouhadbettercorrectit.”
“Ithinkyoumighthavewarnedme,”returnedtheotherwithatouchofsullenness.
“ButIhavebeenpedanticallyexact,asyoucallit.
Thefellowhadakey;
andwhat’smore,hehasitstill.
Isawhimuseitnotaweekago.”
Mr.
Uttersonsigheddeeplybutsaidneveraword;
andtheyoungmanpresentlyresumed.
“Hereisanother
درس
lessontosaynothing,”saidhe.“Iamashamedofmylongtongue.
Letusmakeabargainnevertorefertothisagain.”
“Withallmyheart,”saidthelawyer.
SEARCHFORMR.HYDE
ThateveningMr.Uttersoncamehometohisbachelorhouseinsombrespiritsandsatdowntodinnerwithoutrelish.
ItwashiscustomofaSunday,whenthismealwasover,tositclosebythefire,avolumeofsome
الجافة
drydivinityonhisreadingdesk,untiltheclockoftheneighbouringchurchrangoutthehouroftwelve,whenhewouldgosoberlyandgratefullytobed.Onthisnighthowever,assoonastheclothwastakenaway,hetookupacandleandwentintohisbusinessroom.
Thereheopenedhissafe,tookfromthemostprivatepartofitadocumentendorsedontheenvelopeasDr.Jekyll’sWillandsatdownwithacloudedbrowtostudyitscontents.
Thewillwasholograph,forMr.Uttersonthoughhetookchargeofitnowthatitwasmade,hadrefusedto
تقديم
lendtheleastassistanceinthemakingofit;itprovidednotonlythat,incaseofthedeceaseofHenryJekyll,M.D.,D.C.L.,L.L.D.,F.R.S.,etc.,allhispossessionsweretopassintothehandsofhis“friendandbenefactorEdwardHyde,”butthatincaseofDr.Jekyll’s“disappearanceorunexplainedabsenceforany
فترة
periodexceedingthreecalendarmonths,”thesaidEdwardHydeshouldstepintothesaidHenryJekyll’sshoeswithoutfurtherdelayandfreefromanyburthenorobligationbeyondthepaymentofafewsmallsumstothemembersofthedoctor’shousehold.Thisdocumenthadlongbeenthelawyer’seyesore.
Itoffendedhimbothasalawyerandasaloverofthesaneandcustomarysidesoflife,towhomthefancifulwastheimmodest.
AndhithertoitwashisignoranceofMr.Hydethathadswelledhisindignation;
now,byasuddenturn,itwashisknowledge.
Itwasalreadybadenoughwhenthenamewasbutanameofwhichhecouldlearnnomore.
Itwasworsewhenitbegantobeclotheduponwithdetestableattributes;
andoutoftheshifting,insubstantialmiststhathadsolongbaffledhiseye,thereleapedupthe
المفاجئ
sudden,definitepresentmentofafiend.“Ithoughtitwasmadness,”hesaid,ashereplacedtheobnoxiouspaperinthesafe,“andnowIbegintofearitisdisgrace.”
Withthatheblewouthiscandle,putonagreatcoat,andsetforthinthe
اتجاه
directionofCavendishSquare,thatcitadelofmedicine,wherehisfriend,thegreatDr.Lanyon,hadhishouseandreceivedhiscrowdingpatients.“Ifanyoneknows,itwillbeLanyon,”hehadthought.
Thesolemnbutlerknewandwelcomedhim;