STORYOFTHEDOOR
Mr.
Uttersonthelawyerwas
un
amanofaruggedcountenanceche
thatwasneverlightedbyun
asmile;cold,scantyandembarrassedindiscourse;
backwardinsentiment;
lean,
lungo
long,dusty,drearyandyetsomehowlovable.Atfriendlymeetings,
e
andwhenthewinewastohistaste,qualcosa
somethingeminentlyhumanbeaconedfromhiseye;qualcosa
somethingindeedwhichneverfounditsstrada
wayintohistalk,butche
whichspokenotonlyinthesesilentsymbolsofla
theafter-dinnerface,butmoreoftene
andloudlyintheactsofhisvita
life.Hewasausterewithhimself;
beveva
drankginwhenhewassolo
alone,tomortifyatasteforvintages;e
andthoughheenjoyedthetheatre,aveva
hadnotcrossedthedoorsofonefortwentyyears.Ma
Buthehadanapprovedtoleranceforothers;a volte
sometimeswondering,almostwithenvy,atthehighpressureofspiritsinvolvedintheirmisdeeds;e
andinanyextremityinclinedtoaiutare
helpratherthantoreprove.“IinclinetoCain’sheresy,”heusedto
diceva
sayquaintly:“Iletmy
fratello
brothergotothedevilinhisownway.”In
questo
thischaracter,itwasfrequentlyhisfortunetobethelastreputableacquaintancee
andthelastgoodinfluenceinthelivesofdowngoingmen.E
Andtosuchasthese,solongastheyvenivano
cameabouthischambers,henevermarkedun
ashadeofchangeinhisdemeanour.Nodoubt
il
thefeatwaseasytoMr.Utterson;forhewasundemonstrativeat
la
thebest,andevenhisfriendshipseemedtobefoundedinuna
asimilarcatholicityofgood-nature.Itis
il
themarkofamodestuomo
mantoaccepthisfriendlycircleready-madefromil
thehandsofopportunity;andthatwas
il
thelawyer’sway.Hisfriendswerethoseofhisown
sangue
bloodorthosewhomhehadknowni
thelongest;hisaffections,likeivy,werethegrowthof
tempo
time,theyimpliednoaptnessintheobject.Hence,nodoubt
il
thebondthatunitedhimtoMr.RichardEnfield,hisdistantkinsman,il
thewell-knownmanabouttown.Itwas
una
anuttocrackformolti
many,whatthesetwocouldvedere
seeineachother,orwhatsubjecttheycouldtrovare
findincommon.ItwasreportedbythosewhoencounteredthemintheirSundaywalks,thatthey
detto
saidnothing,lookedsingularlydulle
andwouldhailwithobviousrelieftheappearanceofun
afriend.Forallthat,the
due
twomenputthegreateststorebytheseexcursions,countedthemthechiefjewelofogni
eachweek,andnotonlysetasideoccasionsofpleasure,ma
butevenresistedthecallsofaffari
business,thattheymightenjoythemuninterrupted.Itchancedononeoftheserambles
che
thattheirwayledthemgiù
downaby-streetinabusyquarterofLondon.The
strada
streetwassmallandwhatischiama
calledquiet,butitdroveun
athrivingtradeontheweekdays.Theinhabitantswere
tutti
alldoingwell,itseemede
andallemulouslyhopingtofare
dobetterstill,andlayingoutthesurplusoftheirgrainsincoquetry;so
che
thattheshopfrontsstoodlungo
alongthatthoroughfarewithanairofinvitation,come
likerowsofsmilingsaleswomen.EvenonSunday,
quando
whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmse
andlaycomparativelyemptyofpassage,thestrada
streetshoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,come
likeafireinaforest;e
andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,e
andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyofnote,instantlycatturato
caughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger.Due
Twodoorsfromonecorner,onla
thelefthandgoingeastla
thelinewasbrokenbyla
theentryofacourt;e
andjustatthatpointun
acertainsinisterblockofbuildingthrustforwarditsgableonil
thestreet.Itwastwostoreys
alto
high;showednowindow,nothingbut
una
adooronthelowerstoreye
andablindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;e
andboreineveryfeature,i
themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence.La
Thedoor,whichwasequippeddi
withneitherbellnorknocker,wasblisterede
anddistained.Trampsslouchedinto
i
therecessandstruckmatchesoni
thepanels;childrenkeptshopupon
i
thesteps;theschoolboyhad
provato
triedhisknifeonthemouldings;e
andforcloseonageneration,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorso
ortorepairtheirravages.Mr.
Enfield
e
andthelawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street;ma
butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformerlifteduphiscanee
andpointed.“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”
he
chiesto
asked;andwhenhiscompanion
aveva
hadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”addedhe,“withuna
averyoddstory.”“Indeed?”
detto
saidMr.Utterson,withaslightcambiamento
changeofvoice,“andwhatwasthat?”“Well,itwasthisway,”returnedMr.Enfield:
“Iwascoming
casa
homefromsomeplaceatthefine
endoftheworld,abouttre
threeo’clockofablackwintermattina
morning,andmywaylaythroughaparte
partoftownwheretherewasliterallynulla
nothingtobeseenbutlamps.Strada
Streetafterstreetandallla
thefolksasleep—streetafterstreet,alllightedupasifforaprocessione
andallasemptyasachurch—tillatlastIgotintothatstateofmindwhenauomo
manlistensandlistensandbeginstolongforla
thesightofapoliceman.Allatonce,I
visto
sawtwofigures:onea
piccolo
littlemanwhowasstumpinglungo
alongeastwardatagoodpasseggiata
walk,andtheotheraragazza
girlofmaybeeightordieci
tenwhowasrunningashardasshewasablegiù
downacrossstreet.Well,
signore
sir,thetworanintooneanothernaturallyabbastanza
enoughatthecorner;andthencame
la
thehorriblepartofthecosa
thing;forthemantrampledcalmlyover
il
thechild’sbodyandleftherscreamingonil
theground.Itsoundsnothingto
sentire
hear,butitwashellishtovedere
see.Itwasn’tlikea
uomo
man;itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut.
I
dato
gaveafewhalloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmygentleman,e
andbroughthimbacktodove
wheretherewasalreadyquiteun
agroupaboutthescreamingbambino
child.Hewasperfectlycool
e
andmadenoresistance,butdato
gavemeonelook,souglyche
thatitbroughtoutthesweatonmecome
likerunning.Thepeoplewhohadturned
uscite
outwerethegirl’sownfamiglia
family;andprettysoon,the
dottore
doctor,forwhomshehadbeensentputinhisappearance.Well,the
bambino
childwasnotmuchtheworse,più
morefrightened,accordingtothesawbones;e
andthereyoumighthavesupposedsarebbe
wouldbeanendtola
it.Buttherewasonecuriouscircumstance.
Ihadtakenaloathingtomygentlemanat
prima
firstsight.Sohadthechild’s
famiglia
family,whichwasonlynatural.Ma
Butthedoctor’scasewaswhatstruckmi
me.Hewastheusualcut
e
anddryapothecary,ofnoparticularagee
andcolour,withastrongEdinburghaccente
andaboutasemotionalasabagpipe.Well,
signore
sir,hewasliketherestofus;ogni
everytimehelookedatmyprisoner,Ivedevo
sawthatsawbonesturnsicke
andwhitewiththedesiretokillhim.Iknewwhatwasinhis
mente
mind,justasheknewwhatwasinmia
mine;andkillingbeingoutof
il
thequestion,wedidthenextmeglio
best.Wetoldthemanwecould
e
andwouldmakesuchascandaloutofthisasshouldfatto
makehisnamestinkfromoneendofLondontoil
theother.Ifhehadanyfriends
o
oranycredit,weundertookthatheshouldperdere
losethem.Andallthe
tempo
time,aswewerepitchingitinrosso
redhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasmeglio
bestwecouldfortheywereaswildasharpies.Inever
visto
sawacircleofsuchhatefulfaces;e
andtherewasthemaninthemiddle,withuna
akindofblacksneeringcoolness—frightenedtoo,Icouldseethat—butcarryingitoff,signore
sir,reallylikeSatan.‘Ifyouchooseto
fare
makecapitaloutofthisaccident,’disse
saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless.Nessun
Nogentlemanbutwishestoavoiduna
ascene,’sayshe.‘Nameyourfigure.’Well,wescrewedhim
fino a
uptoahundredpoundsforla
thechild’sfamily;hewould
avrebbe
haveclearlylikedtostickout;ma
buttherewassomethingaboutthelotofusche
thatmeantmischief,andatlasthestruck.Thenext
cosa
thingwastogetthesoldi
money;andwheredoyou
pensate
thinkhecarriedusbuttoche
thatplacewiththedoor?—whippedfuori
outakey,wentin,e
andpresentlycamebackwiththequestione
matteroftenpoundsingolde
andachequeforthebalanceonCoutts’s,drawnpayabletobearere
andsignedwithanameche
thatIcan’tmention,thoughit’soneofthepointsofmystoria
story,butitwasanome
nameatleastverywellknowne
andoftenprinted.Thefigurewasstiff;
ma
butthesignaturewasgoodformoredi
thanthatifitwassolo
onlygenuine.Itookthelibertyofpointing
esce
outtomygentlemanthatla
thewholebusinesslookedapocryphal,e
andthatamandoesnot,inreale
reallife,walkintoacellarporta
dooratfourinthemattino
morningandcomeoutwithanotherman’schequeforcloseuponahundredpounds.Ma
Buthewasquiteeasye
andsneering.‘Setyourmindatrest,’
dice
sayshe,‘Iwillstaywithyoutillil
thebanksopenandcashil
thechequemyself.’Sowetutti
allsetoff,thedoctor,e
andthechild’sfather,andouramico
friendandmyself,andpassedil
therestofthenightinmychambers;e
andnextday,whenweabbiamo
hadbreakfasted,wentinacorpo
bodytothebank.Igavein
le
thechequemyself,andsaidIhadeveryragioni
reasontobelieveitwasun
aforgery.Notabitofit.
Thechequewasgenuine.”
“Tut-tut!”
detto
saidMr.Utterson.“Iseeyou
senti
feelasIdo,”saidMr.Enfield.“Yes,it’s
una
abadstory.Formy
uomo
manwasafellowthatnessuno
nobodycouldhavetodowith,un
areallydamnableman;andthepersonthatdrewthechequeistheverypinkoftheproprieties,celebratedtoo,
e
and(whatmakesitworse)uno
oneofyourfellowswhofa
dowhattheycallgood.Blackmail,Isuppose;
un
anhonestmanpayingthroughthenoseforsomeofthecapersofhisyouth.BlackMailHouseiswhatI
chiamo
calltheplacewiththeporta
door,inconsequence.Thougheventhat,you
sapete
know,isfarfromexplainingall,”headded,e
andwiththewordsfellintouna
aveinofmusing.From
questo
thishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonchiedendo
askingrathersuddenly:“Andyoudon’t
sai
knowifthedrawerofthechequelivesthere?”“Alikely
posto
place,isn’tit?”returnedMr.Enfield.
“ButIhappentohavenoticedhisaddress;
helivesinsomesquare
o
orother.”“Andyounever
chiesto
askedaboutthe—placewiththedoor?”detto
saidMr.Utterson.“No,sir;
I
avevo
hadadelicacy,”wasthereply.“Ifeelverystronglyaboutputtingquestions;
itpartakestoomuchofthestyleofthe
giorno
dayofjudgment.Youstart
una
aquestion,andit’slikestartinguna
astone.Yousitquietlyonthe
cima
topofahill;andaway
la
thestonegoes,startingothers;e
andpresentlysomeblandoldbirdLa
(thelastyouwouldhavethoughtof)isknockedonla
theheadinhisownbackgardene
andthefamilyhavetocambiare
changetheirname.Nosir,I
faccio
makeitaruleofmia
mine:themoreitlookslikeQueerStreet,thelessIask.”
“Averygoodrule,too,”
disse
saidthelawyer.“ButI
ho
havestudiedtheplaceformyself,”continuedMr.Enfield.“Itseemsscarcely
una
ahouse.Thereisnoother
porta
door,andnobodygoesino
oroutofthatonebut,volta
onceinagreatwhile,il
thegentlemanofmyadventure.Ci
Therearethreewindowslookingonthecourtontheprimo
firstfloor;nonebelow;
thewindowsare
sempre
alwaysshutbutthey’reclean.E
Andthenthereisachimneyche
whichisgenerallysmoking;so
qualcuno
somebodymustlivethere.Andyetit’snotso
sicuro
sure;forthebuildingsaresopackedtogetheraboutthecourt,
che
thatit’shardtosaydove
whereoneendsandanotherbegins.”La
Thepairwalkedonagainforun
awhileinsilence;andthen“Enfield,”
disse
saidMr.Utterson,“that’sagoodruleofyours.”“Yes,Ithinkitis,”returnedEnfield.
“Butfor
tutto
allthat,”continuedthelawyer,“there’sun
onepointIwanttochiedere
ask.Iwanttoaskthe
nome
nameofthatmanwhowalkedoverthechild.”“Well,”
disse
saidMr.Enfield,“Ican’tvedo
seewhatharmitwouldfare
do.Itwasamanofthe
nome
nameofHyde.”“Hm,”saidMr.Utterson.
“What
tipo
sortofamanishetosee?”“Heisnot
facile
easytodescribe.Thereis
qualcosa
somethingwrongwithhisappearance;qualcosa
somethingdispleasing,somethingdown-rightdetestable.Inever
visto
sawamanIsodisliked,andyetIscarceso
knowwhy.Hemustbedeformedsomewhere;
he
dà
givesastrongfeelingofdeformity,althoughIcouldn’tspecifyil
thepoint.He’sanextraordinarylooking
uomo
man,andyetIreallycannameniente
nothingoutoftheway.No,
signore
sir;Icanmakenohandofit;
Ican’tdescribehim.
E
Andit’snotwantofmemory;forIdeclareIcanseehim
questo
thismoment.”Mr.
Uttersonagain
camminava
walkedsomewayinsilencee
andobviouslyunderaweightofconsideration.“Youare
sicuro
sureheusedakey?”heinquiredatlast.
“My
caro
dearsir...”beganEnfield,surprisedoutofhimself.
“Yes,Iknow,”
disse
saidUtterson;“Iknowit
deve
mustseemstrange.Thefact
è
is,ifIdonotchiedo
askyouthenameofil
theotherparty,itisperché
becauseIknowitalready.You
vedi
see,Richard,yourtalehasgonecasa
home.Ifyouhavebeeninexactinany
punto
pointyouhadbettercorrectit.”“Ithinkyou
potuto
mighthavewarnedme,”returnedtheotherwithun
atouchofsullenness.“ButIhavebeenpedanticallyexact,asyou
chiami
callit.Thefellowhad
una
akey;andwhat’smore,hehasit
ancora
still.Isawhimuseitnot
una
aweekago.”Mr.
Uttersonsigheddeeply
ma
butsaidneveraword;e
andtheyoungmanpresentlyresumed.“Hereisanotherlessonto
dire
saynothing,”saidhe.“Iamashamedofmylongtongue.
Letus
facciamo
makeabargainnevertorefertothisagain.”“With
tutto
allmyheart,”saidthelawyer.SEARCHFORMR.HYDE
ThateveningMr.Uttersoncamehometohisbachelorhouseinsombrespirits
e
andsatdowntodinnersenza
withoutrelish.ItwashiscustomofaSunday,
quando
whenthismealwasover,tosedersi
sitclosebythefire,avolumeofqualche
somedrydivinityonhisletto
readingdesk,untiltheclockoftheneighbouringchurchrangoutthehouroftwelve,quando
whenhewouldgosoberlye
andgratefullytobed.On
questa
thisnighthowever,assoonasil
theclothwastakenaway,hepreso
tookupacandleandandato
wentintohisbusinessroom.Therehe
aprì
openedhissafe,tookfromthepiù
mostprivatepartofitun
adocumentendorsedontheenvelopeasDr.Jekyll’sWille
andsatdownwithacloudedbrowtostudyitscontents.Thewillwasholograph,forMr.Uttersonthoughhetookchargeofit
ora
nowthatitwasmade,hadrefusedtolendtheleastassistanceinthefatto
makingofit;itprovidednot
solo
onlythat,incaseofthedeceaseofHenryJekyll,M.D.,D.C.L.,L.L.D.,F.R.S.,etc.,tutti
allhispossessionsweretopassintothehandsofhis“friende
andbenefactorEdwardHyde,”butche
thatincaseofDr.Jekyll’s“disappearanceo
orunexplainedabsenceforanyperiodexceedingtre
threecalendarmonths,”thesaidEdwardHydeshouldstepintothesaidHenryJekyll’sshoessenza
withoutfurtherdelayandfreefromqualsiasi
anyburthenorobligationbeyondthepaymentofun
afewsmallsumstothemembersofthedoctor’shousehold.Questo
Thisdocumenthadlongbeenthelawyer’seyesore.Itoffendedhimbothasalawyer
e
andasaloverofthesanee
andcustomarysidesoflife,towhomthefancifulwastheimmodest.E
AndhithertoitwashisignoranceofMr.Hydeche
thathadswelledhisindignation;ora
now,byasuddenturn,itwashisknowledge.Itwas
già
alreadybadenoughwhenthenome
namewasbutanameofcui
whichhecouldlearnnopiù
more.Itwasworsewhenitbegantobeclotheduponwithdetestableattributes;
e
andoutoftheshifting,insubstantialmistsche
thathadsolongbaffledhiseye,thereleapedupil
thesudden,definitepresentmentofun
afiend.“Ithoughtitwasmadness,”he
disse
said,ashereplacedtheobnoxiouspaperinthecassaforte
safe,“andnowIbegintofearitisdisgrace.”Withthatheblewouthiscandle,puton
un
agreatcoat,andsetforthinthedirectionofCavendishSquare,thatcitadelofmedicine,dove
wherehisfriend,thegreatDr.Lanyon,aveva
hadhishouseandreceivedhiscrowdingpatients.“If
qualcuno
anyoneknows,itwillbeLanyon,”heaveva
hadthought.Thesolemnbutlerknew
e
andwelcomedhim;