STORYOFTHEDOOR
Mr.
Uttersonthelawyerwasa
mand
manofaruggedcountenanceder
thatwasneverlightedbyasmile;kold
cold,scantyandembarrassedindiscourse;backwardinsentiment;
lean,
lang
long,dusty,drearyandyetsomehowlovable.Atfriendlymeetings,
og
andwhenthewinewastohistaste,noget
somethingeminentlyhumanbeaconedfromhiseye;noget
somethingindeedwhichneverfounditsvej
wayintohistalk,butwhichspokenotkun
onlyinthesesilentsymbolsoftheafter-dinnerface,men
butmoreoftenandloudlyintheactsofhisliv
life.Hewasausterewithhimself;
drak
drankginwhenhewasalene
alone,tomortifyatasteforvintages;og
andthoughheenjoyedthetheatre,hadnotcrossedthedoorsofen
onefortwentyyears.Buthe
havde
hadanapprovedtoleranceforothers;nogle gange
sometimeswondering,almostwithenvy,atthehøje
highpressureofspiritsinvolvedintheirmisdeeds;og
andinanyextremityinclinedtohjælpe
helpratherthantoreprove.“IinclinetoCain’sheresy,”he
plejede
usedtosayquaintly:“I
lod
letmybrothergotothedevilinhisegen
ownway.”Inthischaracter,itwasfrequentlyhisfortunetobethe
sidste
lastreputableacquaintanceandthesidste
lastgoodinfluenceinthelivesofdowngoingmen.Og
Andtosuchasthese,solænge
longastheycameabouthischambers,healdrig
nevermarkedashadeofforandring
changeinhisdemeanour.Nodoubt
det
thefeatwaseasytoMr.Utterson;forhewasundemonstrativeat
det
thebest,andevenhisfriendshipseemedtobefoundedinen
asimilarcatholicityofgood-nature.Itisthemarkofamodest
mand
mantoaccepthisfriendlycircleready-madefromthehandsofopportunity;og
andthatwasthelawyer’småde
way.Hisfriendswerethoseofhis
eget
ownbloodorthosewhomhehavde
hadknownthelongest;hisaffections,
som
likeivy,werethegrowthoftid
time,theyimpliednoaptnessintheobject.Hence,
ingen
nodoubtthebondthatunitedhimtoMr.RichardEnfield,hisdistantkinsman,den
thewell-knownmanabouttown.Itwas
en
anuttocrackformange
many,whatthesetwocouldse
seeineachother,orwhatsubjecttheykunne
couldfindincommon.ItwasreportedbythosewhoencounteredthemintheirSundaywalks,thatthey
sagde
saidnothing,lookedsingularlydullog
andwouldhailwithobviousrelieftheappearanceofen
afriend.Forallthat,the
to
twomenputthegreateststorebydisse
theseexcursions,countedthemthechiefjewelofhver
eachweek,andnotonlysetasideoccasionsofpleasure,men
butevenresistedthecallsofbusiness,thattheymightenjoythemuninterrupted.Itchancedononeof
disse
theseramblesthattheirwayledthemned
downaby-streetinabusyquarterofLondon.The
gaden
streetwassmallandwhatiscalledrolig
quiet,butitdroveathrivingtradeontheweekdays.Theinhabitantswere
alle
alldoingwell,itseemedog
andallemulouslyhopingtodobedre
betterstill,andlayingoutthesurplusoftheirgrainsincoquetry;so
at
thattheshopfrontsstoodlangs
alongthatthoroughfarewithanairofinvitation,som
likerowsofsmilingsaleswomen.Selv
EvenonSunday,whenitveileditsmere
morefloridcharmsandlaycomparativelyemptyofpassage,thegaden
streetshoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,som
likeafireinaforest;og
andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,og
andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyofnote,instantlyfanget
caughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger.To
Twodoorsfromonecorner,onthelefthånd
handgoingeastthelinewasbrudt
brokenbytheentryofacourt;og
andjustatthatpointen
acertainsinisterblockofbuildingthrustforwarditsgableondet
thestreet.Itwastwostoreys
højt
high;showednowindow,nothingbut
en
adooronthelowerstoreyog
andablindforeheadofdiscolouredwallonden
theupper;andborein
alle
everyfeature,themarksofprolongedog
andsordidnegligence.Thedoor,
der
whichwasequippedwithneitherbellnorknocker,wasblisteredog
anddistained.Trampsslouchedintotherecess
og
andstruckmatchesonthepanels;børn
childrenkeptshopuponthesteps;theschoolboy
havde
hadtriedhisknifeonthemouldings;og
andforcloseonageneration,ingen
noonehadappearedtodrive
driveawaytheserandomvisitorseller
ortorepairtheirravages.Mr.
Enfield
og
andthelawyerwereonden
theothersideoftheby-street;men
butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformerliftedop
uphiscaneandpointed.“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”
he
spurgte
asked;andwhenhiscompanion
havde
hadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”addedhan
he,“withaveryoddstory.”“Indeed?”
sagde
saidMr.Utterson,withaslightændring
changeofvoice,“andwhatwasthat?”“Well,itwas
denne
thisway,”returnedMr.Enfield:“Iwas
kom
cominghomefromsomeplaceattheende
endoftheworld,abouttre
threeo’clockofablackwintermorning,og
andmywaylaythroughadel
partoftownwheretherewasliterallynothingtobese
seenbutlamps.Streetafter
gade
streetandallthefolksasleep—streetefter
afterstreet,alllightedupasifforen
aprocessionandallasemptyasen
achurch—tillatlastIkom
gotintothatstateofsind
mindwhenamanlistensog
andlistensandbeginstolongforden
thesightofapoliceman.Allatonce,I
så
sawtwofigures:onea
lille
littlemanwhowasstumpingalongeastwardatagod
goodwalk,andtheotherapige
girlofmaybeeightorti
tenwhowasrunningashårdt
hardasshewasablened
downacrossstreet.Well,sir,
de
thetworanintooneanothernaturallynok
enoughatthecorner;andthen
kom
camethehorriblepartofthething;forthe
manden
mantrampledcalmlyoverthechild’skrop
bodyandleftherscreamingontheground.It
lyder
soundsnothingtohear,butitwashellishtose
see.Itwasn’tlikea
mand
man;itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut.
I
gav
gaveafewhalloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmygentleman,og
andbroughthimbacktohvor
wheretherewasalreadyquiteagroupom
aboutthescreamingchild.Hewasperfectly
cool
coolandmadenoresistance,men
butgavemeonelook,souglyat
thatitbroughtoutthesweatonmesom
likerunning.Thepeoplewhohadturned
ud
outwerethegirl’sownfamilie
family;andprettysoon,thedoctor,forwhomshehadbeen
sendt
sentputinhisappearance.Nå
Well,thechildwasnotmeget
muchtheworse,morefrightened,accordingtothesawbones;og
andthereyoumighthavesupposedville
wouldbeanendtodet
it.Buttherewasonecuriouscircumstance.
I
havde
hadtakenaloathingtomygentlemanatførste
firstsight.Sohadthechild’s
familie
family,whichwasonlynatural.Men
Butthedoctor’scasewaswhatstruckmig
me.Hewastheusual
skåret
cutanddryapothecary,ofingen
noparticularageandcolour,med
withastrongEdinburghaccentog
andaboutasemotionalasen
abagpipe.Well,sir,hewas
som
liketherestofus;hver
everytimehelookedatmyprisoner,Iså
sawthatsawbonesturnsickog
andwhitewiththedesiretodræbe
killhim.Iknewwhatwasinhis
sind
mind,justasheknewwhatwasinmine;og
andkillingbeingoutofdet
thequestion,wedidthenextbest.We
sagde
toldthemanwecouldog
andwouldmakesuchascandalud
outofthisasshouldlave
makehisnamestinkfromoneende
endofLondontotheanden
other.Ifhehadanyfriends
eller
oranycredit,weundertookat
thatheshouldlosethem.Og
Andallthetime,aswewerepitchingitinrødt
redhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasbestwekunne
couldfortheywereaswildasharpies.I
aldrig
neversawacircleofsuchhatefulfaces;og
andtherewasthemaninthemiddle,med
withakindofblacksneeringcoolness—frightenedogså
too,Icouldseethat—butcarryingitoff,sir
sir,reallylikeSatan.‘Ifyouchooseto
gøre
makecapitaloutofthisaccident,’sagde
saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless.Ingen
Nogentlemanbutwishestoavoiden
ascene,’sayshe.‘Nameyourfigure.’Well,wescrewedhimuptoahundredpoundsforthechild’s
familie
family;hewouldhaveclearlylikedtostick
ud
out;buttherewassomethingaboutthelotofusthatmeantmischief,
og
andatlasthestruck.Det
Thenextthingwastofå
getthemoney;andwheredoyou
tror
thinkhecarriedusbuttothatsted
placewiththedoor?—whippedoutakey,gik
wentin,andpresentlycametilbage
backwiththematterofti
tenpoundsingoldandachequeforthebalanceonCoutts’s,drawnpayabletobearerog
andsignedwithanamethatIcan’tmention,selv
thoughit’soneofthepointsofmyhistorie
story,butitwasanavn
nameatleastverywellknownog
andoftenprinted.Thefigurewasstiff;
men
butthesignaturewasgoodformere
morethanthatifitwasonlygenuine.I
tog
tookthelibertyofpointingud
outtomygentlemanthatdet
thewholebusinesslookedapocryphal,og
andthatamandoesnot,invirkelige
reallife,walkintoacellardør
dooratfourintheom morgenen
morningandcomeoutwithanotherman’schequefortæt
closeuponahundredpounds.Men
Buthewasquiteeasyog
andsneering.‘Setyourmindatrest,’
siger
sayshe,‘Iwillstaywithyoutillthebanksåbner
openandcashthechequemyself.’Sowealle
allsetoff,thedoctor,og
andthechild’sfather,andourven
friendandmyself,andpassedtheresten
restofthenightinmychambers;og
andnextday,whenwehavde
hadbreakfasted,wentinakrop
bodytothebank.Igaveinthechequemyself,
og
andsaidIhadeverygrund
reasontobelieveitwasen
aforgery.Notabitofit.
Thechequewasgenuine.”
“Tut-tut!”
sagde
saidMr.Utterson.“IseeyoufeelasIdo,”
sagde
saidMr.Enfield.“Yes,it’s
en
abadstory.Formy
mand
manwasafellowthatingen
nobodycouldhavetodomed
with,areallydamnableman;og
andthepersonthatdrewthechequeisthemeget
verypinkoftheproprieties,celebratedogså
too,and(whatmakesitworse)en
oneofyourfellowswhogør
dowhattheycallgood.Blackmail,Isuppose;
en
anhonestmanpayingthroughthenosefornogle
someofthecapersofhisyouth.BlackMail
House
HouseiswhatIcalltheplacemed
withthedoor,inconsequence.Thougheven
at
that,youknow,isfarfromexplainingall,”headded,og
andwiththewordsfellintoen
aveinofmusing.From
dette
thishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonspørger
askingrathersuddenly:“Andyoudon’t
ved
knowifthedrawerofden
thechequelivesthere?”“Alikely
sted
place,isn’tit?”returnedMr.Enfield.
“ButI
tilfældigvis
happentohavenoticedhisaddress;helivesinsomesquare
eller
orother.”“Andyounever
spurgt
askedaboutthe—placewiththedoor?”sagde
saidMr.Utterson.“No,sir;
I
havde
hadadelicacy,”wasthereply.“Ifeel
meget
verystronglyaboutputtingquestions;itpartakes
for
toomuchofthestyleofthedayofjudgment.You
starte
startaquestion,andit’ssom
likestartingastone.You
sidder
sitquietlyonthetopofen
ahill;andawaythestone
går
goes,startingothers;andpresentlysomebland
gammel
oldbird(thelastyouville
wouldhavethoughtof)isknockedontheheadinhisegen
ownbackgardenandthefamilyhavetoændre
changetheirname.Nosir,Imakeitaruleof
min
mine:themoreitlookslikeQueer
Street
Street,thelessIask.”“A
meget
verygoodrule,too,”saidthelawyer.“ButI
har
havestudiedtheplaceformyself,”continuedMr.Enfield.“Itseemsscarcely
et
ahouse.Thereisno
anden
otherdoor,andnobodygoesineller
oroutofthatonemen
but,onceinagreatwhile,den
thegentlemanofmyadventure.Der
Therearethreewindowslookingonthecourtontheførste
firstfloor;nonebelow;
thewindowsare
altid
alwaysshutbutthey’reclean.Og
Andthenthereisachimneywhichisgenerallysmoking;so
nogen
somebodymustlivethere.And
alligevel
yetit’snotsosure;forthebuildingsaresopacked
sammen
togetheraboutthecourt,thatit’ssvært
hardtosaywhereoneendsog
andanotherbegins.”Thepair
gik
walkedonagainforastykke tid
whileinsilence;andthen“Enfield,”
sagde
saidMr.Utterson,“that’sagod
goodruleofyours.”“Yes,I
tror
thinkitis,”returnedEnfield.“Butfor
alt
allthat,”continuedthelawyer,“there’set
onepointIwanttospørge
ask.Iwanttoask
den
thenameofthatmanwhogik
walkedoverthechild.”“Well,”
sagde
saidMr.Enfield,“Ican’tse
seewhatharmitwouldgøre
do.Itwasamanofthe
navn
nameofHyde.”“Hm,”saidMr.Utterson.
“What
slags
sortofamanishetosee?”“Heisnot
let
easytodescribe.Thereis
noget
somethingwrongwithhisappearance;noget
somethingdispleasing,somethingdown-rightdetestable.I
aldrig
neversawamanIsodisliked,og
andyetIscarceknowhvorfor
why.Hemustbedeformedsomewhere;
he
giver
givesastrongfeelingofdeformity,althoughIcouldn’tspecifythepoint.He’s
en
anextraordinarylookingman,andalligevel
yetIreallycannamenoget
nothingoutoftheway.Nej
No,sir;Icanmake
ikke
nohandofit;Ican’tdescribe
ham
him.Andit’snotwantofmemory;
forIdeclareI
kan
canseehimthismoment.”Mr.
Utterson
igen
againwalkedsomewayinsilenceog
andobviouslyunderaweightofconsideration.“Youare
sikker
sureheusedakey?”heinquiredatlast.
“My
kære
dearsir...”beganEnfield,surprised
ud
outofhimself.“Yes,Iknow,”
sagde
saidUtterson;“Iknowit
må
mustseemstrange.Thefact
er
is,ifIdonotspørger
askyouthenameoftheanden
otherparty,itisbecauseIkender
knowitalready.Yousee,Richard,yourtalehasgone
hjem
home.Ifyouhavebeeninexactinany
punkt
pointyouhadbettercorrectit.”“I
tror
thinkyoumighthavewarnedme,”returnedden
theotherwithatouchofsullenness.“ButI
har
havebeenpedanticallyexact,asyoukalder
callit.Thefellowhad
en
akey;andwhat’smore,he
har
hasitstill.Isawhim
bruge
useitnotaweekago.”Mr.
Uttersonsigheddeeply
men
butsaidneveraword;og
andtheyoungmanpresentlyresumed.“Hereisanotherlessonto
sige
saynothing,”saidhe.“Iamashamedofmylongtongue.
Lad
Letusmakeabargainaldrig
nevertorefertothisagain.”“Withallmyheart,”
sagde
saidthelawyer.SEARCHFORMR.HYDE
ThateveningMr.Utterson
kom
camehometohisbachelorhus
houseinsombrespiritsandsatned
downtodinnerwithoutrelish.Itwashiscustomof
et
aSunday,whenthismealwasover
over,tositclosebythefire,et
avolumeofsomedrydivinityonhisreadingdesk,indtil
untiltheclockoftheneighbouringchurchrangud
outthehouroftwelve,når
whenhewouldgosoberlyog
andgratefullytobed.On
denne
thisnighthowever,assoonastheclothwastakenvæk
away,hetookupacandleog
andwentintohisbusinessroom.Der
Thereheopenedhissafe,tog
tookfromthemostprivatedel
partofitadocumentendorsedontheenvelopeasDr.Jekyll’sWillog
andsatdownwithacloudedbrowtostudyitscontents.Thewillwasholograph,forMr.Utterson
selv
thoughhetookchargeofitnu
nowthatitwasmade,havde
hadrefusedtolendtheleastassistanceinthelavet
makingofit;itprovidednot
kun
onlythat,incaseofthedeceaseofHenryJekyll,M.D.,D.C.L.,L.L.D.,F.R.S.,etc.,alle
allhispossessionsweretopassintothehandsofhis“friendog
andbenefactorEdwardHyde,”butthatintilfælde
caseofDr.Jekyll’s“disappearanceeller
orunexplainedabsenceforanyperiodexceedingtre
threecalendarmonths,”thesaidEdwardHydeskulle
shouldstepintothesaidHenryJekyll’sshoeswithoutfurtherdelayog
andfreefromanyburtheneller
orobligationbeyondthepaymentofapar
fewsmallsumstothemembersofthedoctor’shousehold.Dette
Thisdocumenthadlongbeenthelawyer’seyesore.Itoffendedhim
både
bothasalawyerandasen
aloverofthesaneog
andcustomarysidesoflife,towhomthefancifulwastheimmodest.Og
AndhithertoitwashisignoranceofMr.Hydeder
thathadswelledhisindignation;nu
now,byasuddenturn,itwashisknowledge.Itwas
allerede
alreadybadenoughwhenthenamewasmen
butanameofwhichhekunne
couldlearnnomore.Itwasworse
da
whenitbegantobeclotheduponmed
withdetestableattributes;andoutof
den
theshifting,insubstantialmiststhathavde
hadsolongbaffledhiseye,thereleapedupden
thesudden,definitepresentmentofen
afiend.“Ithoughtitwasmadness,”he
sagde
said,ashereplacedtheobnoxiouspaperinthesafe,“andnu
nowIbegintofearitisdisgrace.”Med
Withthatheblewouthiscandle,putonen
agreatcoat,andsetforthinthedirectionofCavendishSquare,thatcitadelofmedicine,hvor
wherehisfriend,thegreatDr.Lanyon,havde
hadhishouseandreceivedhiscrowdingpatients.“If
nogen
anyoneknows,itwillbeLanyon,”hehavde
hadthought.Thesolemnbutler
kendte
knewandwelcomedhim;