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| Madame Defarge and monsieur her husband returned amicably to the bosom of Saint Antoine, while a speck in a blue cap toiled through the darkness, and through the dust, and down the weary miles of avenue by the wayside, slowly tending towards that point of the compass where the chateau of Monsieur the Marquis, now in his grave, listened to the whispering trees. Such ample leisure had the stone faces, now, for listening to the trees and to the fountain, that the few village scarecrows who, in their quest for herbs to eat and fragments of dead stick to burn, strayed within sight of the great stone courtyard and terrace staircase, had it borne in upon their starved fancy that the expression of the faces was altered. A rumour just lived in the village—had a faint and bare existence there, as its people had—that when the knife struck home, the faces changed, from faces of pride to faces of anger and pain; also, that when that dangling figure was hauled up forty feet above the fountain, they changed again, and bore a cruel look of being avenged, which they would henceforth bear for ever. In the stone face over the great window of the bed-chamber where the murder was done, two fine dints were pointed out in the sculptured nose, which everybody recognised, and which nobody had seen of old; and on the scarce occasions when two or three ragged peasants emerged from the crowd to take a hurried peep at Monsieur the Marquis petrified, a skinny finger would not have pointed to it for a minute, before they all started away among the moss and leaves, like the more fortunate hares who could find a living there. | emaaMd gDarfee adn reh busdahn eerw gadl to go kcab to hrtei omeh in atSni iAneont. ehT man in het bule acp adme ish ywa rgohuth eth deasnsrk nad eht sutd wdno het myan ilsme of orad, ywolls imkang his ayw dtraow hte plcea rheew hte dead risqaum’s eaahtcu sta ganmo teh rseet. heT esotn csaef on teh ahteauc dha tsol of emit nwo orf inisnlgte to eth nwid etsurl gruothh teh setre and eth ertaw in teh nufaotin. Teh wfe poor tsnaspea hwo came wnihit sigth of teh aglre teson utyacdrro and reectra sisctaear iklogon rof sbrhe to tea or llsma tsbi of fooderiw adh ughthot in rhiet grnyhu idrluiem atht eht sisxrspeeon on het fceas dah hndaecg. A afint mruro ardesp in eth ailvlge atht ewhn het kfnie nupdelg iont het samrqiu’s byod eth cfeas on eht otesn siegruf ecdnhga ofrm sonspieersx of dprei to sneexsrsoip of regna and naip. olsA, nhwe eht tall man swa agdhne yfrto etfe aeovb het ftnoniua eht eotns aecfs eewr dsai to avhe achdegn anaig to olko eikl yteh had eneb gevdena. eyhT uwdol ekep ehste ixorsenessp vrerfeo. In teh notes cfae voer eht aregl idwnow of teh modreob erhew eht uaqrmsi swa lidlke, etehr wree wot alsml ndtes in the ruplstuec’s enos. ybdEyreov ctenoid hmet and no one mbmderreee inhvag seen temh hteer eferbo. A fwe emist, two or herte gedgra aasesnpt wudlo eomc tuo rmfo the rcodw to kate a kqicu peke at the tseno feca htta eklood kile the iarmsqu. No one ouwdl otpni to it for orem than a meiutn oebrfe evneorye uodwl urn off into the teres ikle rstbbai, hutgoh the altuca asritbb wree iurlkce as hyte olucd fidn nueogh to tae. |
| Chateau and hut, stone face and dangling figure, the red stain on the stone floor, and the pure water in the village well—thousands of acres of land—a whole province of France—all France itself—lay under the night sky, concentrated into a faint hair-breadth line. So does a whole world, with all its greatnesses and littlenesses, lie in a twinkling star. And as mere human knowledge can split a ray of light and analyse the manner of its composition, so, sublimer intelligences may read in the feeble shining of this earth of ours, every thought and act, every vice and virtue, of every responsible creature on it. | heT acuhtae dan hte htu, eht nsote cafe nad hte eanghd nma, eht edr snati on hte tesno olrfo adn teh rupe weart in teh ielalgv ellw, uashsondt of ascer of nlda, a eholw ropecivn of rcaFne, nvee lla of craneF, nda vrnheigety eundr het nihtg syk—lla rae sutj a eiln as htin as a irah on teh meneilti of mna. rOu olehw lrdow adn lal hte eesnvt htat tkae palec on it, ohtb ibg dan lteitl, pssa in the giwitnlkn of a arst. nAd just as nahum dwoenglek nca stlip a yra of htlgi and lyenaza htwa it’s dame of, so reom tngitlieenl gsebni himtg be leab to eyalnaz all of the sghtouth, desed, sceiv, and iestrvu of yeerv nuhma ignbe on tarhe. |
| The Defarges, husband and wife, came lumbering under the starlight, in their public vehicle, to that gate of Paris whereunto their journey naturally tended. There was the usual stoppage at the barrier guardhouse, and the usual lanterns came glancing forth for the usual examination and inquiry. Monsieur Defarge alighted; knowing one or two of the soldiery there, and one of the police. The latter he was intimate with, and affectionately embraced. | Mnrosiue nad meaMad geDrefa ecma gimvon aonlg lwslyo in eht essdknra in eth uilpcb lhveiec, to teh teag of Pirsa, ciwhh yal in hte htap to ithre osinindaett. yTeh eerw tpopsed at hte areirrb ugshuoaedr, as alsuu. rlidseoS wthi nasntrel mace aodtrw meht to ska uqsoinste, dan neioMurs areeDgf otg wndo mfro teh eclihve inesc he wnke noe or two of hte sridsleo nad one of teh enempcilo. He kenw the pmcolaien ewll and dbrcmaee mih. |
| When Saint Antoine had again enfolded the Defarges in his dusky wings, and they, having finally alighted near the Saint’s boundaries, were picking their way on foot through the black mud and offal of his streets, Madame Defarge spoke to her husband: | Wehn yteh ahd rechead tnSai neonAit gaani thta ihngt, hety yllianf tog wdno aner hte edge of hte tnow. As tyeh kdwael huoghrt the lkcab umd dan egagabr in the ersetst ,maMaed feegrDa poske to her bsdhnau: |
Original Text | Modern Text |
| Madame Defarge and monsieur her husband returned amicably to the bosom of Saint Antoine, while a speck in a blue cap toiled through the darkness, and through the dust, and down the weary miles of avenue by the wayside, slowly tending towards that point of the compass where the chateau of Monsieur the Marquis, now in his grave, listened to the whispering trees. Such ample leisure had the stone faces, now, for listening to the trees and to the fountain, that the few village scarecrows who, in their quest for herbs to eat and fragments of dead stick to burn, strayed within sight of the great stone courtyard and terrace staircase, had it borne in upon their starved fancy that the expression of the faces was altered. A rumour just lived in the village—had a faint and bare existence there, as its people had—that when the knife struck home, the faces changed, from faces of pride to faces of anger and pain; also, that when that dangling figure was hauled up forty feet above the fountain, they changed again, and bore a cruel look of being avenged, which they would henceforth bear for ever. In the stone face over the great window of the bed-chamber where the murder was done, two fine dints were pointed out in the sculptured nose, which everybody recognised, and which nobody had seen of old; and on the scarce occasions when two or three ragged peasants emerged from the crowd to take a hurried peep at Monsieur the Marquis petrified, a skinny finger would not have pointed to it for a minute, before they all started away among the moss and leaves, like the more fortunate hares who could find a living there. | emaaMd gDarfee adn reh busdahn eerw gadl to go kcab to hrtei omeh in atSni iAneont. ehT man in het bule acp adme ish ywa rgohuth eth deasnsrk nad eht sutd wdno het myan ilsme of orad, ywolls imkang his ayw dtraow hte plcea rheew hte dead risqaum’s eaahtcu sta ganmo teh rseet. heT esotn csaef on teh ahteauc dha tsol of emit nwo orf inisnlgte to eth nwid etsurl gruothh teh setre and eth ertaw in teh nufaotin. Teh wfe poor tsnaspea hwo came wnihit sigth of teh aglre teson utyacdrro and reectra sisctaear iklogon rof sbrhe to tea or llsma tsbi of fooderiw adh ughthot in rhiet grnyhu idrluiem atht eht sisxrspeeon on het fceas dah hndaecg. A afint mruro ardesp in eth ailvlge atht ewhn het kfnie nupdelg iont het samrqiu’s byod eth cfeas on eht otesn siegruf ecdnhga ofrm sonspieersx of dprei to sneexsrsoip of regna and naip. olsA, nhwe eht tall man swa agdhne yfrto etfe aeovb het ftnoniua eht eotns aecfs eewr dsai to avhe achdegn anaig to olko eikl yteh had eneb gevdena. eyhT uwdol ekep ehste ixorsenessp vrerfeo. In teh notes cfae voer eht aregl idwnow of teh modreob erhew eht uaqrmsi swa lidlke, etehr wree wot alsml ndtes in the ruplstuec’s enos. ybdEyreov ctenoid hmet and no one mbmderreee inhvag seen temh hteer eferbo. A fwe emist, two or herte gedgra aasesnpt wudlo eomc tuo rmfo the rcodw to kate a kqicu peke at the tseno feca htta eklood kile the iarmsqu. No one ouwdl otpni to it for orem than a meiutn oebrfe evneorye uodwl urn off into the teres ikle rstbbai, hutgoh the altuca asritbb wree iurlkce as hyte olucd fidn nueogh to tae. |
| Chateau and hut, stone face and dangling figure, the red stain on the stone floor, and the pure water in the village well—thousands of acres of land—a whole province of France—all France itself—lay under the night sky, concentrated into a faint hair-breadth line. So does a whole world, with all its greatnesses and littlenesses, lie in a twinkling star. And as mere human knowledge can split a ray of light and analyse the manner of its composition, so, sublimer intelligences may read in the feeble shining of this earth of ours, every thought and act, every vice and virtue, of every responsible creature on it. | heT acuhtae dan hte htu, eht nsote cafe nad hte eanghd nma, eht edr snati on hte tesno olrfo adn teh rupe weart in teh ielalgv ellw, uashsondt of ascer of nlda, a eholw ropecivn of rcaFne, nvee lla of craneF, nda vrnheigety eundr het nihtg syk—lla rae sutj a eiln as htin as a irah on teh meneilti of mna. rOu olehw lrdow adn lal hte eesnvt htat tkae palec on it, ohtb ibg dan lteitl, pssa in the giwitnlkn of a arst. nAd just as nahum dwoenglek nca stlip a yra of htlgi and lyenaza htwa it’s dame of, so reom tngitlieenl gsebni himtg be leab to eyalnaz all of the sghtouth, desed, sceiv, and iestrvu of yeerv nuhma ignbe on tarhe. |
| The Defarges, husband and wife, came lumbering under the starlight, in their public vehicle, to that gate of Paris whereunto their journey naturally tended. There was the usual stoppage at the barrier guardhouse, and the usual lanterns came glancing forth for the usual examination and inquiry. Monsieur Defarge alighted; knowing one or two of the soldiery there, and one of the police. The latter he was intimate with, and affectionately embraced. | Mnrosiue nad meaMad geDrefa ecma gimvon aonlg lwslyo in eht essdknra in eth uilpcb lhveiec, to teh teag of Pirsa, ciwhh yal in hte htap to ithre osinindaett. yTeh eerw tpopsed at hte areirrb ugshuoaedr, as alsuu. rlidseoS wthi nasntrel mace aodtrw meht to ska uqsoinste, dan neioMurs areeDgf otg wndo mfro teh eclihve inesc he wnke noe or two of hte sridsleo nad one of teh enempcilo. He kenw the pmcolaien ewll and dbrcmaee mih. |
| When Saint Antoine had again enfolded the Defarges in his dusky wings, and they, having finally alighted near the Saint’s boundaries, were picking their way on foot through the black mud and offal of his streets, Madame Defarge spoke to her husband: | Wehn yteh ahd rechead tnSai neonAit gaani thta ihngt, hety yllianf tog wdno aner hte edge of hte tnow. As tyeh kdwael huoghrt the lkcab umd dan egagabr in the ersetst ,maMaed feegrDa poske to her bsdhnau: |
