STORYOFTHEDOOR
Mr.
Uttersonthe
advogado
lawyerwasamanofaruggedcountenancethatwasneverlightedbyasorriso
smile;cold,scantyandembarrassedindiscourse;
backwardinsentiment;
lean,long,dusty,drearyandyetsomehowlovable.
Atfriendlymeetings,andwhenthe
vinho
winewastohistaste,somethingeminentlyhumanbeaconedfromhisolho
eye;somethingindeedwhichneverfounditswayintohistalk,butwhichspokenotonlyinthesesilentsymbolsoftheafter-dinnerface,butmore
frequentemente
oftenandloudlyintheactsofhislife.Hewasausterewithhimself;
drankginwhenhewasalone,tomortifya
gosto
tasteforvintages;andthoughheenjoyedthetheatre,hadnotcrossedthedoorsofonefortwentyyears.
Buthehadanapprovedtoleranceforothers;
sometimeswondering,almostwithenvy,atthehighpressureofspiritsinvolvedintheirmisdeeds;
andinanyextremityinclinedtohelpratherthantoreprove.
“IinclinetoCain’sheresy,”heusedtosayquaintly:
“Iletmybrothergotothedevilinhisownway.”
Inthischaracter,itwasfrequentlyhisfortunetobethelastreputableacquaintanceandthelastgoodinfluenceinthelivesofdowngoingmen.
Andtosuchasthese,solongastheycameabouthischambers,henever
marcou
markedashadeofchangeinhisdemeanour.No
dúvida
doubtthefeatwaseasytoMr.Utterson;forhewasundemonstrativeatthebest,andevenhisfriendship
parecia
seemedtobefoundedinasimilarcatholicityofgood-nature.Itisthe
marca
markofamodestmantoaceitar
accepthisfriendlycircleready-madefromthehandsofopportunity;andthatwasthelawyer’sway.
Hisfriendswerethoseofhisownbloodorthosewhomhehadknownthelongest;
hisaffections,likeivy,werethegrowthoftime,theyimpliednoaptnessintheobject.
Hence,no
dúvida
doubtthebondthatunitedhimtoMr.RichardEnfield,hisdistantkinsman,thewell-knownmanabouttown.Itwasanuttocrackformany,whatthesetwocouldseeineachother,orwhatsubjecttheycouldfindincommon.
Itwas
relatado
reportedbythosewhoencounteredthemintheirSundaywalks,thattheysaidnothing,lookedsingularlydullandwouldhailwithobviousrelieftheappearanceofafriend.Forallthat,thetwomenputthegreateststorebytheseexcursions,countedthemthe
principal
chiefjewelofeachweek,andnotonlysetasideoccasionsofprazer
pleasure,butevenresistedthecallsofbusiness,thattheymightenjoythemuninterrupted.Itchancedononeoftheseramblesthattheirway
levou
ledthemdownaby-streetinabusyquarterofLondon.Thestreetwassmallandwhatiscalledquiet,butitdroveathrivingtradeontheweekdays.
Theinhabitantswerealldoingwell,it
parecia
seemedandallemulouslyhopingtodobetterstill,andcolocando
layingoutthesurplusoftheirgrainsincoquetry;sothattheshopfrontsstoodalongthatthoroughfarewithanairofinvitation,likerowsofsmilingsaleswomen.
EvenonSunday,whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmsandlaycomparatively
vazio
emptyofpassage,thestreetshoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,likeafireinaforest;andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,and
geral
generalcleanlinessandgaietyofnote,instantlycaughtandpleasedtheolho
eyeofthepassenger.Twodoorsfromonecorner,onthelefthandgoing
leste
eastthelinewasbrokenbytheentryofatribunal
court;andjustatthatpointa
certo
certainsinisterblockofbuildingthrustfrente
forwarditsgableonthestreet.Itwastwostoreyshigh;
showedno
janela
window,nothingbutadooronthelowerstoreyandacega
blindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;andboreineveryfeature,themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence.
Thedoor,whichwasequippedwithneitherbellnorknocker,wasblisteredanddistained.
Trampsslouchedintotherecessandstruckmatchesonthepanels;
childrenkept
compras
shopuponthesteps;theschoolboyhadtriedhis
faca
knifeonthemouldings;andforcloseonageneration,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorsortorepairtheirravages.
Mr.
Enfieldandthe
advogado
lawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street;butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformerlifteduphiscaneandpointed.
“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”
heasked;
andwhenhiscompanionhadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”addedhe,“withaveryoddstory.”
“Indeed?”
saidMr.Utterson,withaslightchangeof
voz
voice,“andwhatwasthat?”“Well,itwasthisway,”returnedMr.Enfield:
“Iwascominghomefromsomeplaceattheendoftheworld,aboutthreeo’clockofablackwintermorning,andmywaylaythroughapartoftownwheretherewasliterallynothingtobeseenbutlamps.
Streetafterstreetandallthefolksasleep—streetafterstreet,alllightedupasifforaprocessionandallasemptyasachurch—tillatlastIgotintothat
estado
stateofmindwhenamanlistensandlistensandcomeça
beginstolongforthesightofapoliceman.Allatonce,Isawtwofigures:
onealittlemanwhowasstumpingalongeastwardatagoodwalk,andtheotheragirlofmaybe
oito
eightortenwhowasrunningashardasshewasabledownatransversal
crossstreet.Well,sir,thetworanintooneanothernaturallyenoughatthecorner;
andthencamethehorriblepartofthething;
forthemantrampledcalmlyoverthechild’sbodyandleftherscreamingonthe
chão
ground.Itsoundsnothingtohear,butitwashellishtosee.
Itwasn’tlikeaman;
itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut.
Igaveafewhalloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmygentleman,andbroughthimbacktowheretherewasalreadyquitea
grupo
groupaboutthescreamingchild.Hewasperfectlycoolandmadenoresistance,butgavemeonelook,so
feio
uglythatitbroughtoutthesweatonmelikerunning.Thepeoplewhohadturnedoutwerethegirl’sownfamily;
andprettysoon,thedoctor,forwhomshehadbeensentputinhisappearance.
Well,thechildwasnotmuchthe
pior
worse,morefrightened,accordingtothesawbones;andthereyoumighthave
suposto
supposedwouldbeanendtoit.Buttherewasonecuriouscircumstance.
Ihadtakenaloathingtomygentlemanatfirstsight.
Sohadthechild’sfamily,whichwasonlynatural.
Butthedoctor’scasewaswhatstruckme.
Hewastheusualcutanddryapothecary,ofnoparticular
idade
ageandcolour,withaforte
strongEdinburghaccentandaboutasemotionalasabagpipe.Well,sir,hewasliketherestofus;
everytimehelookedatmyprisoner,Isawthatsawbonesturnsickandwhitewiththedesiretokillhim.
Iknewwhatwasinhismind,justasheknewwhatwasinmine;
andkillingbeingoutofthequestion,wedidthenextbest.
WetoldthemanwecouldandwouldmakesuchascandaloutofthisasshouldmakehisnamestinkfromoneendofLondontotheother.
Ifhehadanyfriendsoranycredit,weundertookthatheshouldlosethem.
Andallthetime,aswewerepitchingitinredhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasbestwecouldfortheywereaswildasharpies.
Ineversawacircleofsuchhatefulfaces;
andtherewasthemaninthe
meio
middle,withakindofblacksneeringcoolness—frightenedtoo,Icouldseethat—butlevando
carryingitoff,sir,reallylikeSatan.‘Ifyou
optar
choosetomakecapitaloutofthisaccident,’saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless.Nogentlemanbutwishestoavoidascene,’sayshe.
‘Nameyourfigure.’Well,wescrewedhimuptoa
cem
hundredpoundsforthechild’sfamily;hewouldhaveclearlylikedtostickout;
buttherewassomethingaboutthelotofusthatmeantmischief,andatlasthestruck.
Thenextthingwastogetthemoney;
andwheredoyouthinkhe
levou
carriedusbuttothatplacewiththedoor?—whippedoutachave
key,wentin,andpresentlycamebackwiththematteroftenpoundsinouro
goldandachequeforthebalanceonCoutts’s,drawnpayabletobearerandsignedwithanamethatIcan’tmencionar
mention,thoughit’soneofthepointsofmystory,butitwasanameatleastverywellknownandmuitas vezes
oftenprinted.Thefigurewasstiff;
butthesignaturewasgoodformorethanthatifitwasonlygenuine.
Itookthelibertyofpointingouttomygentlemanthatthewholebusinesslookedapocryphal,andthatamandoesnot,inreallife,walkintoacellardooratfourinthemorningandcomeoutwithanotherman’schequeforcloseupona
cem
hundredpounds.Buthewasquiteeasyandsneering.
‘Setyourmindatrest,’sayshe,‘Iwillstaywithyoutillthebanksopenandcashthechequemyself.’Soweallsetoff,thedoctor,andthechild’sfather,andourfriendandmyself,and
passamos
passedtherestofthenightinmychambers;andnextday,whenwehadbreakfasted,wentinabodytothe
banco
bank.Igaveinthechequemyself,andsaidIhadeveryreasontobelieveitwasaforgery.
Notabitofit.
Thechequewasgenuine.”
“Tut-tut!”
saidMr.Utterson.
“IseeyoufeelasIdo,”saidMr.Enfield.
“Yes,it’sabadstory.
Formymanwasafellowthatnobodycouldhavetodowith,areallydamnableman;
andthepersonthatdrewthechequeistheverypinkoftheproprieties,celebratedtoo,and(whatmakesitworse)oneofyourfellowswhodowhattheycallgood.
Blackmail,I
suponho
suppose;anhonestmanpayingthroughthenoseforsomeofthecapersofhisyouth.
BlackMailHouseiswhatIcalltheplacewiththedoor,inconsequence.
Thougheventhat,youknow,isfarfrom
explicar
explainingall,”headded,andwiththewordsfellintoaveinofmusing.FromthishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonasking
bastante
rathersuddenly:“Andyoudon’tknowifthedrawerofthechequelivesthere?”
“Alikelyplace,isn’tit?”
returnedMr.Enfield.
“ButIhappentohave
notei
noticedhisaddress;helivesinsomesquareorother.”
“Andyouneveraskedaboutthe—placewiththedoor?”
saidMr.Utterson.
“No,sir;
Ihadadelicacy,”wasthereply.
“Ifeelverystronglyaboutputtingquestions;
itpartakestoomuchofthestyleofthedayofjudgment.
Youstartaquestion,andit’slikestartingastone.
Yousitquietlyonthetopofahill;
andawaythestonegoes,startingothers;
andpresentlysomeblandoldbird(thelastyouwouldhavethoughtof)is
batido
knockedontheheadinhisownbackgardenandthefamilyhavetochangetheirname.Nosir,Imakeita
regra
ruleofmine:themoreitlookslikeQueerStreet,the
menos
lessIask.”“Averygood
regra
rule,too,”saidthelawyer.“ButIhave
estudei
studiedtheplaceformyself,”continuou
continuedMr.Enfield.“Itseemsscarcelyahouse.
Thereisnootherdoor,andnobodygoesinoroutofthatonebut,onceinagreatwhile,thegentlemanofmyadventure.
Therearethreewindowslookingonthecourtonthefirst
andar
floor;nonebelow;
thewindowsarealwaysshutbutthey’re
limpas
clean.Andthenthereisachimneywhichisgenerallysmoking;
sosomebodymustlivethere.
Andyetit’snotsosure;
forthebuildingsaresopackedtogetheraboutthecourt,thatit’shardtosaywhereoneendsandanotherbegins.”
Thepairwalkedonagainforawhileinsilence;
andthen“Enfield,”saidMr.Utterson,“that’sagood
regra
ruleofyours.”“Yes,Ithinkitis,”returnedEnfield.
“Butforallthat,”
continuou
continuedthelawyer,“there’sonepointIwanttoask.Iwanttoaskthenameofthatmanwhowalkedoverthechild.”
“Well,”saidMr.Enfield,“Ican’tseewhatharmitwoulddo.
ItwasamanofthenameofHyde.”
“Hm,”saidMr.Utterson.
“Whatsortofamanishetosee?”
“Heisnoteasytodescribe.
Thereissomethingwrongwithhisappearance;
somethingdispleasing,somethingdown-rightdetestable.
IneversawamanIsodisliked,andyetIscarceknowwhy.
Hemustbedeformedsomewhere;
hegivesa
forte
strongfeelingofdeformity,althoughIcouldn’tspecifythepoint.He’sanextraordinarylookingman,andyetIreallycannamenothingoutoftheway.
No,sir;
Icanmakenohandofit;
Ican’tdescribehim.
Andit’snotwantof
memória
memory;forIdeclareIcanseehimthismoment.”
Mr.
Uttersonagainwalkedsomewayinsilenceand
obviamente
obviouslyunderaweightofconsideration.“Youaresureheusedakey?”
heinquiredatlast.
“Mydearsir...”
começou
beganEnfield,surprisedoutofhimself.“Yes,Iknow,”saidUtterson;
“Iknowitmust
parecer
seemstrange.Thefactis,ifIdonotaskyouthenameoftheotherparty,itisbecauseIknowitalready.
Yousee,Richard,yourtalehasgonehome.
Ifyouhavebeeninexactinanypointyouhadbettercorrectit.”
“Ithinkyoumighthavewarnedme,”returnedtheotherwithatouchofsullenness.
“ButIhavebeenpedanticallyexact,asyoucallit.
Thefellowhada
chave
key;andwhat’smore,hehasitstill.
Isawhimuseitnotaweekago.”
Mr.
Uttersonsigheddeeplybutsaidneveraword;
andtheyoungmanpresentlyresumed.
“Hereisanotherlessontosaynothing,”saidhe.
“Iamashamedofmylongtongue.
Letusmakeabargainnevertorefertothisagain.”
“Withallmyheart,”saidthe
advogado
lawyer.SEARCHFORMR.HYDE
ThateveningMr.Uttersoncamehometohisbachelorhouseinsombrespiritsandsatdowntodinnerwithoutrelish.
ItwashiscustomofaSunday,whenthismealwasover,tositclosebythefire,avolumeofsomedrydivinityonhisreadingdesk,untilthe
relógio
clockoftheneighbouringchurchrangoutthehouroftwelve,whenhewouldgosoberlyandgratefullytobed.Onthisnight
no entanto
however,assoonastheclothwastakenaway,hetookupacandleandwentintohisbusinessroom.Thereheopenedhissafe,tookfromthemost
privada
privatepartofitadocumentendorsedontheenvelopeasDr.Jekyll’sWillandsatdownwithacloudedbrowtoestudar
studyitscontents.Thewillwasholograph,forMr.Uttersonthoughhetookchargeofitnowthatitwasmade,hadrefusedtolendtheleastassistanceinthemakingofit;
itprovidednotonlythat,incaseofthedeceaseofHenryJekyll,M.D.,D.C.L.,L.L.D.,F.R.S.,etc.,allhispossessionswereto
passem
passintothehandsofhis“friendandbenefactorEdwardHyde,”butthatincaseofDr.Jekyll’s“disappearanceorunexplainedabsenceforanyperiodexceedingthreecalendarmonths,”thesaidEdwardHydeshouldstepintothesaidHenryJekyll’ssapatos
shoeswithoutfurtherdelayandfreefromanyburthenorobligationbeyondthepaymentofafewsmallsumstothemembersofthedoctor’shousehold.Thisdocumenthadlongbeenthelawyer’seyesore.
Itoffendedhimbothasa
advogado
lawyerandasaloverofthesaneandcustomarysidesoflife,towhomthefancifulwastheimmodest.AndhithertoitwashisignoranceofMr.Hydethathadswelledhisindignation;
now,byasuddenturn,itwashisknowledge.
Itwasalreadybadenoughwhenthenamewasbutanameofwhichhecould
aprender
learnnomore.Itwas
pior
worsewhenitbegantobeclotheduponwithdetestableattributes;andoutoftheshifting,insubstantialmiststhathadsolongbaffledhiseye,thereleapedupthesudden,definitepresentmentofafiend.
“Ithoughtitwasmadness,”hesaid,ashereplacedtheobnoxious
papel
paperinthesafe,“andnowIcomeço
begintofearitisdisgrace.”Withthatheblewouthiscandle,putonagreatcoat,andsetforthinthedirectionofCavendishSquare,thatcitadelofmedicine,wherehisfriend,thegreatDr.Lanyon,hadhishouseandreceivedhiscrowdingpatients.
“Ifanyoneknows,itwillbeLanyon,”hehadthought.
Thesolemnbutlerknewandwelcomedhim;