7 Jekyll And Hyde Read By Stephanie Poppins

In Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Robert Louis Stevenson writes about the duality of human nature – the idea that every single human being has good and evil within them. Stevenson describes how there is a good and an evil side to everyone's personality, but what is important is how you behave and the decisions you make.

In this episode, Doctor Lanyon has something shocking to say.

Transcript

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

Your go-to podcast that guarantees you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep.

Today's story is called Dr.

Jekyll and Mr.

Hyde.

First published in 1886,

This story explores the duality of human nature and suggests that within each and every one of us lies both good and evil.

But before we begin,

Let's take a moment to focus on where we are now.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.

Take a deep breath in through your nose.

Then let it out on a long sigh.

Chapter 7.

The Remarkable Incident of Dr.

Lanyon Time ran on.

Thousands of pounds were offered in reward for the death of Sir Danvers was resented as a public inquiry.

But Mr.

Hyde had disappeared out of the ken of the police as though he had never existed.

Much of his past was unearthed indeed and all disreputable.

Tales came out of the man's cruelty,

At once so callous and violent,

Of his vile life,

Of his strange associates,

Of the hatred that seems to have surrounded his career.

But of his present whereabouts,

Not a whisper.

From the time he had left the house in Soho on the morning of the murder,

He was simply blotted out and gradually as time grew on,

Mr.

Utterson began to recover from the hotness of his alarm and to grow more at quiet with himself.

The death of Sir Danvers was,

To his way of thinking,

More than paid for by the disappearance of Mr.

Hyde.

Now that that evil influence had been withdrawn,

A new life began for Dr.

Jekyll.

He came out of his seclusion,

He renewed relations with his friends,

He became once more their familiar guest and entertainer,

And whilst he had always been known for charities,

He was now no less distinguished for religion.

He was busy,

He was much in the open air,

He did good.

His face seemed to open and brighten,

As if with an inward consciousness of service,

And for more than two months,

The Doctor was at peace.

On the 8th of January,

Utterson had dined at the Doctor's with a small party.

Lanyon had been there and the face of the host had looked from one to the other,

As in the old days when the trio were inseparable friends.

On the 12th,

And again on the 14th,

The door was shut against the lawyer.

The Doctor's confined to the house,

Paul said,

And he saw no one.

On the 15th,

He tried again and was again refused,

And having now been used for the two months to see his friend almost daily,

He found this return of solitude to weigh upon his spirits.

The 5th night,

He had in guests to dine with him,

And the 6th he betook himself to Dr.

Lanyon's.

There,

At least,

He was not denied admittance,

But when he came in,

He was shocked at the change which had taken place in the Doctor's appearance.

He had his death warrant written legibly across his face.

The rosy man had grown pale,

His flesh had fallen away,

He was visibly balder and older,

And yet it was not so much those tokens of a swift physical decay that arrested the lawyer's notice,

As a look in the eye and quality of manner that seemed to testify to some deep-seated terror of the mind.

It was unlikely the Doctor should fear death,

And yet that was what Utterson was tempted to suspect.

Yes,

He thought,

He is a Doctor,

He must know his own state and that his days are counted,

And the knowledge is more than he can bear.

And yet when Utterson remarked on his ill looks,

It was with an air of great firmness that Lanyon declared himself a doomed man.

I have had a shock,

Said he,

I shall never recover,

It's a question of weeks.

Well,

Life has been pleasant,

I liked it,

Yes,

Sir,

I used to like it.

I sometimes think if we knew all,

We should be more glad to get away.

Jekyll is ill too,

Observed Utterson,

Have you seen him?

Then Lanyon's face changed and he held up a trembling hand.

I wish to see or hear no more of Dr.

Jekyll,

He said in a loud unsteady voice.

I am quite done with that person and I beg you will spare me any allusion to one whom I regard as dead.

Tut,

Tut,

Said Mr.

Utterson,

And then,

After a considerable pause,

Can't I do anything?

He replied,

We are three very old friends,

Lanyon,

We shall not live to make others.

Nothing can be done,

Returned Lanyon,

Ask himself.

He will not see me,

Said the lawyer.

I am not surprised at that,

Was the reply.

Someday,

Utterson,

After I am dead,

You may perhaps come to learn the right and the wrongs of this,

I cannot tell you now.

In the meantime,

If you can sit and talk with me of other things,

For God's sake stay and do so,

But if you cannot keep clear of this accursed topic,

Then in God's name go,

For I cannot bear it.

As soon as he got home,

Utterson sat down and wrote to Jekyll,

Complaining of his exclusion from the house and asking the course of this unhappy break with Lanyon,

And the next day brought him a long answer,

Often very pathetically worded,

And sometimes darkly mysterious,

In drift.

The quarrel with Lanyon was incurable.

I do not blame our old friend,

Jekyll wrote,

But I share his view we must never meet.

I mean from henceforth to lead a life of extreme seclusion.

You must not be surprised,

Nor must you doubt my friendship,

If my door is often shut even to you.

You must suffer me to go my own dark way.

I have brought on myself a punishment and a danger that I cannot name.

I am the chief of sinners,

I am the chief of sufferers also.

I could not think this earth contained a place for sufferings and terrors so unmanning,

And you can but do one thing,

Utterson,

To lighten this destiny.

That is to respect my silence.

Utterson was amazed.

The dark influence of Hyde had been withdrawn,

The Doctor had returned to his old tasks and amities.

A week ago the prospect had smiled with every promise of a cheerful and honoured age.

And now,

In a moment,

Friendship and peace of mind and the whole tenor of his life were wrecked.

So great and unprepared a change pointed to madness.

But in view of Lanyon's manner and words,

There must lie for it some deeper ground.

A week afterwards Dr Lanyon took to his bed,

And in something less than a fortnight,

He was dead.

The night after the funeral,

At which he'd been sadly affected,

Utterson locked the door of his business room,

And sitting there by the light of a melancholy candle,

Drew out and set before him an envelope,

Addressed by the hand,

And sealed with the seal of his old dead friend.

Private,

For the hands of J.

G.

Utterson alone,

And in case of his pre-deceased to be destroyed unread,

So it was emphatically superscribed,

And the lawyer dreaded to behold the contents.

I've buried one friend today,

He thought,

What if this should cost me another?

Then he condemned the fear as a disloyalty and broke the seal.

Within there was another enclosure,

Likewise sealed,

And marked upon the cover as not to be opened till the death or disappearance of Dr Henry Jekyll.

Utterson could not trust his eyes.

Yes,

It was disappearance.

Here again,

As in the mad will,

Which he had long ago restored to its author,

Here again were the idea of a disappearance,

And the name of Henry Jekyll bracketed.

But in the will,

That idea had sprung from the sinister suggestion of the man Hyde.

It was set there with a purpose all too plain and horrible.

Written by the hand of Lanyon,

What should it mean?

A great curiosity came to the trustee to disregard the prohibition and dive at once to the bottom of these mysteries.

But professional honour and faith to his dead friend were stringent obligations,

And the packet slept in the innermost corner of Utterson's private safe.

It is one thing to mortify curiosity,

Another to conquer it,

And it may be doubted if,

From that day forth,

Utterson desired the society of his surviving friend with the same eagerness.

He thought of him kindly,

But his thoughts were disquieted and fearful.

He went to call indeed,

But he was perhaps relieved to be denied admittance.

Perhaps in his heart he preferred to speak with Poole upon the doorstep,

And surrounded by the air and sounds of the open city,

Rather than to be admitted into that house of voluntary bondage and to sit and speak with its inscrutable recluse.

Poole had indeed no very pleasant news to communicate.

The doctor,

It appeared,

Was now more than ever confined himself to the cabinet over the laboratory,

Where he would sometimes even sleep.

He was out of spirits,

He had grown very silent,

He did not read.

It seemed as if he had something on his mind.

Utterson became so used to the unvarying character of these reports that he fell off little by little in the frequency of his visits.

Reviews

The plot thickens again… thank you for reading!🙏🏼❤️