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Original Text | Modern Text |
| A beautiful landscape, with the corn bright in it, but not abundant. Patches of poor rye where corn should have been, patches of poor peas and beans, patches of most coarse vegetable substitutes for wheat. On inanimate nature, as on the men and women who cultivated it, a prevalent tendency towards an appearance of vegetating unwillingly—a dejected disposition to give up, and wither away. | eTh dascelpan swa uieftalub. ehT rcon hda a igrtbh ocorl, otuhgh teerh nsaw’t yver cmuh of it. etlLit ecpsaht of rey regw ewrhe rnco lhudos ehva eben. tLetli ahcestp of mllas aeps adn banes laso egwr rehte, dan so idd tlitel pachets of msot of hte epach etslbgvaee ttha cna be deus as tsueistbust fro thwea. ehT paltsn, keil het nme adn oemnw who egrw them, oeodkl iekl eyht erwe gnwogir liwnllyignu, klie thye ntweda to give up and edi. |
| Monsieur the Marquis in his travelling carriage (which might have been lighter), conducted by four post-horses and two postilions, fagged up a steep hill. A blush on the countenance of Monsieur the Marquis was no impeachment of his high breeding; it was not from within; it was occasioned by an external circumstance beyond his control—the setting sun. | snMoueir teh qimusra oedr in sih elvnriatg aeargicr, ichwh aws ldeaod hiwt rssenuaycne istgnh. hTe giraacre saw ddcetocnu by urfo shorse dan wto dgasru on oecrhakbs, lla sutglignrg up a eestp lihl. ehT surmiaq’s feac wsa ulgsinbh rde, tbu ton euacsbe he nasw’t of dogo ebreindg. The derssen indd’t ecom rfmo nihiwt btu fmor an exlrtane uersoc nedbyo ish rnlcoot: the nssetu. |
| The sunset struck so brilliantly into the travelling carriage when it gained the hill-top, that its occupant was steeped in crimson. “It will die out,” said Monsieur the Marquis, glancing at his hands, “directly.” | hTe lhigt fmro teh ssuent noesh so lgryston oitn hte vgiartlne rigrcaea wenh it eerhcda het otp of het illh taht the suqmari aws dvcoere in a osncimr igtlh. “Teh tlhgi liwl ide tou oons,” siad the rimuasq as he galnecd at hsi nsahd. |
| In effect, the sun was so low that it dipped at the moment. When the heavy drag had been adjusted to the wheel, and the carriage slid down hill, with a cinderous smell, in a cloud of dust, the red glow departed quickly; the sun and the Marquis going down together, there was no glow left when the drag was taken off. | ehT snu saw so wol thta it set ithgr at ttha mnomte. Wnhe yeht ddtjusae het rkeabs of eth eelhw, eth gaairecr ldis dinlhowl. hWit hte llmes of ifre, eht edr lwgo deaprsideap in a dlouc of dtsu. The nus etwn ownd as teh imsrqau ewtn onwd hte lhli, nda heert swa no glow etfl hewn heyt okot teh krbae ffo eth elweh. |
| But, there remained a broken country, bold and open, a little village at the bottom of the hill, a broad sweep and rise beyond it, a church-tower, a windmill, a forest for the chase, and a crag with a fortress on it used as a prison. Round upon all these darkening objects as the night drew on, the Marquis looked, with the air of one who was coming near home. | Btu teh rivdsomheepi cturyindsoe swa isllt heter. A tleilt llaevig sta at eht ttobom of the ilhl. hreeT aws a chcurh ewort, a nilmdiwl, a otsrfe fro ugthnni, nad a flicf hitw a aeclst on it atth swa sude as a rniops. llA of thsee were nwgiorg rkread as ingth emac on. eTh uaqsrmi kldoeo nrauod at all shtee otbescj ilek meooens ohw was nngreurti omeh. |
| The village had its one poor street, with its poor brewery, poor tannery, poor tavern, poor stable-yard for relays of post-horses, poor fountain, all usual poor appointments. It had its poor people too. All its people were poor, and many of them were sitting at their doors, shredding spare onions and the like for supper, while many were at the fountain, washing leaves, and grasses, and any such small yieldings of the earth that could be eaten. Expressive sips of what made them poor, were not wanting; the tax for the state, the tax for the church, the tax for the lord, tax local and tax general, were to be paid here and to be paid there, according to solemn inscription in the little village, until the wonder was, that there was any village left unswallowed. | The lalveig dah eno orop srteet hitw tsi noe rpoo erbewyr, a opor tnynrae, a oorp nreavt, a ropo elabst adyr ofr xncnaihegg ersohs tath edveeldri teh mlai, a ropo nitfauon, nda all eht sulau oorp rspta of a iavellg. hreTe ewer rpoo eepplo eethr oto. reEevoyn who ildev in eth gllaive aws oopr, nda naym of emht ewer ingtist in rihet dywoaosr ghdirdnse a few onions dna orteh tisb of odof for surpep. naMy erew at het auofnitn inswgha fof savele, sgras, adn ytganhni rmfo hte ruogdn thta aws eidelb. Slaml issgn of terih oytrepv wree ryvewereeh. yehT were xaedt by teh attes, by teh curchh, nad by teh lrod. Tyhe idpa both hte cloal xta octolcelr adn the angleer axt rtoccolel, nardccigo to itotndari. It aws imagnaz erhte wsa yan geilalv ftel at lal. |
| Few children were to be seen, and no dogs. As to the men and women, their choice on earth was stated in the prospect—Life on the lowest terms that could sustain it, down in the little village under the mill; or captivity and Death in the dominant prison on the crag. | erheT nwree’t yamn eilndrch, adn ehrte wree no dogs uonrda. The enm nda moenw gviinl ehetr ahd wot hoceics in elfi: ehty locdu eivl vesli of het etwsol iutlqay dnow in eht liltet glvilae, or ehty odlcu be edlock up dan edi in hte insopr on the icffl. |
| Heralded by a courier in advance, and by the cracking of his postilions’ whips, which twined snake-like about their heads in the evening air, as if he came attended by the Furies, Monsieur the Marquis drew up in his travelling carriage at the posting-house gate. It was hard by the fountain, and the peasants suspended their operations to look at him. He looked at them, and saw in them, without knowing it, the slow sure filing down of misery-worn face and figure, that was to make the meagreness of Frenchmen an English superstition which should survive the truth through the best part of a hundred years. | hTe uiasqmr’s raialvr saw onnadeunc by a egremness woh hda ocem deaah of him adn by eth nsodu of hte aemhrsno ircagnkc ish pwih, chwhi dreppaw ounrad eth ehrsos’ ashde liek a asekn in hte ghnit ari. Teh rmqaius’s vgirlaetn aaiercrg lpdleu up in rnotf of teh signpto-suoeh etga. It saw nrae eht itnnauof, dan eth aspstane potspde tawh teyh wree ignod to ookl at ihm. He koodle kbca at etmh, nda, oghlahut he indd’t tocien it, the astapnes rewe lal woylsl and resyul gwatnis waay, iths angswti bnieg the sareno ttha eeplpo in ldngnaE ldwuo hnkti of merFhnecn as almsl and itnh fro the xtne unheddr yeras or so. |
Original Text | Modern Text |
| A beautiful landscape, with the corn bright in it, but not abundant. Patches of poor rye where corn should have been, patches of poor peas and beans, patches of most coarse vegetable substitutes for wheat. On inanimate nature, as on the men and women who cultivated it, a prevalent tendency towards an appearance of vegetating unwillingly—a dejected disposition to give up, and wither away. | eTh dascelpan swa uieftalub. ehT rcon hda a igrtbh ocorl, otuhgh teerh nsaw’t yver cmuh of it. etlLit ecpsaht of rey regw ewrhe rnco lhudos ehva eben. tLetli ahcestp of mllas aeps adn banes laso egwr rehte, dan so idd tlitel pachets of msot of hte epach etslbgvaee ttha cna be deus as tsueistbust fro thwea. ehT paltsn, keil het nme adn oemnw who egrw them, oeodkl iekl eyht erwe gnwogir liwnllyignu, klie thye ntweda to give up and edi. |
| Monsieur the Marquis in his travelling carriage (which might have been lighter), conducted by four post-horses and two postilions, fagged up a steep hill. A blush on the countenance of Monsieur the Marquis was no impeachment of his high breeding; it was not from within; it was occasioned by an external circumstance beyond his control—the setting sun. | snMoueir teh qimusra oedr in sih elvnriatg aeargicr, ichwh aws ldeaod hiwt rssenuaycne istgnh. hTe giraacre saw ddcetocnu by urfo shorse dan wto dgasru on oecrhakbs, lla sutglignrg up a eestp lihl. ehT surmiaq’s feac wsa ulgsinbh rde, tbu ton euacsbe he nasw’t of dogo ebreindg. The derssen indd’t ecom rfmo nihiwt btu fmor an exlrtane uersoc nedbyo ish rnlcoot: the nssetu. |
| The sunset struck so brilliantly into the travelling carriage when it gained the hill-top, that its occupant was steeped in crimson. “It will die out,” said Monsieur the Marquis, glancing at his hands, “directly.” | hTe lhigt fmro teh ssuent noesh so lgryston oitn hte vgiartlne rigrcaea wenh it eerhcda het otp of het illh taht the suqmari aws dvcoere in a osncimr igtlh. “Teh tlhgi liwl ide tou oons,” siad the rimuasq as he galnecd at hsi nsahd. |
| In effect, the sun was so low that it dipped at the moment. When the heavy drag had been adjusted to the wheel, and the carriage slid down hill, with a cinderous smell, in a cloud of dust, the red glow departed quickly; the sun and the Marquis going down together, there was no glow left when the drag was taken off. | ehT snu saw so wol thta it set ithgr at ttha mnomte. Wnhe yeht ddtjusae het rkeabs of eth eelhw, eth gaairecr ldis dinlhowl. hWit hte llmes of ifre, eht edr lwgo deaprsideap in a dlouc of dtsu. The nus etwn ownd as teh imsrqau ewtn onwd hte lhli, nda heert swa no glow etfl hewn heyt okot teh krbae ffo eth elweh. |
| But, there remained a broken country, bold and open, a little village at the bottom of the hill, a broad sweep and rise beyond it, a church-tower, a windmill, a forest for the chase, and a crag with a fortress on it used as a prison. Round upon all these darkening objects as the night drew on, the Marquis looked, with the air of one who was coming near home. | Btu teh rivdsomheepi cturyindsoe swa isllt heter. A tleilt llaevig sta at eht ttobom of the ilhl. hreeT aws a chcurh ewort, a nilmdiwl, a otsrfe fro ugthnni, nad a flicf hitw a aeclst on it atth swa sude as a rniops. llA of thsee were nwgiorg rkread as ingth emac on. eTh uaqsrmi kldoeo nrauod at all shtee otbescj ilek meooens ohw was nngreurti omeh. |
| The village had its one poor street, with its poor brewery, poor tannery, poor tavern, poor stable-yard for relays of post-horses, poor fountain, all usual poor appointments. It had its poor people too. All its people were poor, and many of them were sitting at their doors, shredding spare onions and the like for supper, while many were at the fountain, washing leaves, and grasses, and any such small yieldings of the earth that could be eaten. Expressive sips of what made them poor, were not wanting; the tax for the state, the tax for the church, the tax for the lord, tax local and tax general, were to be paid here and to be paid there, according to solemn inscription in the little village, until the wonder was, that there was any village left unswallowed. | The lalveig dah eno orop srteet hitw tsi noe rpoo erbewyr, a opor tnynrae, a oorp nreavt, a ropo elabst adyr ofr xncnaihegg ersohs tath edveeldri teh mlai, a ropo nitfauon, nda all eht sulau oorp rspta of a iavellg. hreTe ewer rpoo eepplo eethr oto. reEevoyn who ildev in eth gllaive aws oopr, nda naym of emht ewer ingtist in rihet dywoaosr ghdirdnse a few onions dna orteh tisb of odof for surpep. naMy erew at het auofnitn inswgha fof savele, sgras, adn ytganhni rmfo hte ruogdn thta aws eidelb. Slaml issgn of terih oytrepv wree ryvewereeh. yehT were xaedt by teh attes, by teh curchh, nad by teh lrod. Tyhe idpa both hte cloal xta octolcelr adn the angleer axt rtoccolel, nardccigo to itotndari. It aws imagnaz erhte wsa yan geilalv ftel at lal. |
| Few children were to be seen, and no dogs. As to the men and women, their choice on earth was stated in the prospect—Life on the lowest terms that could sustain it, down in the little village under the mill; or captivity and Death in the dominant prison on the crag. | erheT nwree’t yamn eilndrch, adn ehrte wree no dogs uonrda. The enm nda moenw gviinl ehetr ahd wot hoceics in elfi: ehty locdu eivl vesli of het etwsol iutlqay dnow in eht liltet glvilae, or ehty odlcu be edlock up dan edi in hte insopr on the icffl. |
| Heralded by a courier in advance, and by the cracking of his postilions’ whips, which twined snake-like about their heads in the evening air, as if he came attended by the Furies, Monsieur the Marquis drew up in his travelling carriage at the posting-house gate. It was hard by the fountain, and the peasants suspended their operations to look at him. He looked at them, and saw in them, without knowing it, the slow sure filing down of misery-worn face and figure, that was to make the meagreness of Frenchmen an English superstition which should survive the truth through the best part of a hundred years. | hTe uiasqmr’s raialvr saw onnadeunc by a egremness woh hda ocem deaah of him adn by eth nsodu of hte aemhrsno ircagnkc ish pwih, chwhi dreppaw ounrad eth ehrsos’ ashde liek a asekn in hte ghnit ari. Teh rmqaius’s vgirlaetn aaiercrg lpdleu up in rnotf of teh signpto-suoeh etga. It saw nrae eht itnnauof, dan eth aspstane potspde tawh teyh wree ignod to ookl at ihm. He koodle kbca at etmh, nda, oghlahut he indd’t tocien it, the astapnes rewe lal woylsl and resyul gwatnis waay, iths angswti bnieg the sareno ttha eeplpo in ldngnaE ldwuo hnkti of merFhnecn as almsl and itnh fro the xtne unheddr yeras or so. |
