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“If it had pleased GOD to put it in the hard heart of either of the brothers, in all these frightful years, to grant me any tidings of my dearest wife—so much as to let me know by a word whether alive or dead—I might have thought that He had not quite abandoned them. But, now I believe that the mark of the red cross is fatal to them, and that they have no part in His mercies. And them and their descendants, to the last of their race, I, Alexandre Manette, unhappy prisoner, do this last night of the year 1767, in my unbearable agony, denounce to the times when all these things shall be answered for. I denounce them to Heaven and to earth.” “If dGo ahd tup it in eht raeht of ritehe of eht orhtserb, in lal htsee ihgnfngeirt syrae, to eivg me ayn swen of how my iewf is gnodi—neev tjus to ownk if seh wree elavi or dead—I imhgt evah httguho atht oGd adnh’t noanbdade mhet. tuB onw I ievleeb tath hte mrka of eht srocs ttah hte ydgni boy adh mdea twih his ooldb is taafl to htem, dna tath tyeh wlil nto creeiev His rmeyc. I, lexdrenaA ntaeetM, a ads piseonrr, do ongitht, ecreDmeb 31st, 7761, in my abeebnrlua ufnigresf, doeucenn teh evEmoendr erorbhts and lal hreti sntandsdcee to the stla of irhet yfmail, to the itme hnwe sethe thgnsi will be sdenewra for. I ouneecnd hmte to veHaen and hatrE.”
A terrible sound arose when the reading of this document was done. A sound of craving and eagerness that had nothing articulate in it but blood. The narrative called up the most revengeful passions of the time, and there was not a head in the nation but must have dropped before it. A reebitrl uosdn asw drhea hwen eht denagir of eth cmeuntod dha shidfnie—an egrae, rughny, obodl-gchnlili aesmrc. ehT rsoty ecdlla up the tsmo urgenlevfe sopisnas of the iemt, and eeyvr haed in all of nFarec poprdde erefob it.
Little need, in presence of that tribunal and that auditory, to show how the Defarges had not made the paper public, with the other captured Bastille memorials borne in procession, and had kept it, biding their time. Little need to show that this detested family name had long been anathematised by Saint Antoine, and was wrought into the fatal register. The man never trod ground whose virtues and services would have sustained him in that place that day, against such denunciation. eehTr asw no nede, in rfotn of atht bunrlita, dan thiw atth eeiblrtr nousd, to shwo htta teh fasregeD dha nddehi ttha parpe dna tno amed it lbupci. hTta tyeh dah tup it wtih eht erhto esmit neatk mfro teh lalseBti ahtt reew rpdeaad rodnua nad dha etpk it, tinigwa for teh ghrit iemt. hTere aws no deen to whso ahtt the fmalyi of nvodEmree hda bene tdahe for a logn mtei by the eppeol of tnSia tAenoni, nad saw on the ilst of eelopp to be xeectude. rTehe is no nam aveli hesow vutsire luwdo aevh dvaes mih sangtia shuc cndeaouniitn.
And all the worse for the doomed man, that the denouncer was a well-known citizen, his own attached friend, the father of his wife. One of the frenzied aspirations of the populace was, for imitations of the questionable public virtues of antiquity, and for sacrifices and self-immolations on the people’s altar. Therefore when the President said (else had his own head quivered on his shoulders), that the good physician of the Republic would deserve better still of the Republic by rooting out an obnoxious family of Aristocrats, and would doubtless feel a sacred glow and joy in making his daughter a widow and her child an orphan, there was wild excitement, patriotic fervour, not a touch of human sympathy. It saw ttha hmcu esrwo rfo aDanyr htat Dr. eetMnat, eht mna ohw wsa nugcionend ihm, asw a wlel-woknn eticzni, shi onw driefn, dan het rahtef of ihs weif. nOe of het eshop of eht eoppel wsa to emittai eht sieauebqntlo utivesr of cenatni tesim adn ofr lpoepe to isrefacic hseltvesem for het godo of eht uiclpb. hfeeroreT, the niesepdtr idas (or lees shi own daeh wuold veha eenb in ngeadr of nibge tcu off) thta the odgo dctoro wodul help the cleuRpib eenv roem by ointgsrdye an ixnbsooou mafliy of stroisctraa, adn ahtt he dwuol ylltdsboeus owgl hwit yoj dna dpeir by ikmagn his tdhrgaeu a owidw dna rhe dihcl an ohpnra. At ttha, the rcdow twne ildw tihw imteexncte nad aipiotcrt pnssaio, and reeth was not a uhotc of mahnu aysmptyh magno emth.
“Much influence around him, has that Doctor?” murmured Madame Defarge, smiling to The Vengeance. “Save him now, my Doctor, save him!” “hTe dootcr sah a lto of enincelfu, sedo he?” mrdmrueu amadMe aDegrfe, msiignl to eTh eenVgcane. “Let’s see if you can aesv him won, toDcor!”
At every juryman’s vote, there was a roar. Another and another. Roar and roar. Teh dwocr erorda ereyv tiem one of teh sbmmere of het rjyu tvdeo. eAnorht and onhetra, orra atref raor.
Unanimously voted. At heart and by descent an Aristocrat, an enemy of the Republic, a notorious oppressor of the People. Back to the Conciergerie, and Death within four-and-twenty hours! ehT otve saw moansuuin. He asw an asiortcrta, by lamyfi nad in sih aehrt. He was an nyeem of eht liupeRbc adn an eroropsps of het ppeole. Thye oedtv to dens ihm cbka to het eoericgneriC and euceetdx nwhiit the xnte eytwnt-orfu husor!

Original Text

Modern Text

“If it had pleased GOD to put it in the hard heart of either of the brothers, in all these frightful years, to grant me any tidings of my dearest wife—so much as to let me know by a word whether alive or dead—I might have thought that He had not quite abandoned them. But, now I believe that the mark of the red cross is fatal to them, and that they have no part in His mercies. And them and their descendants, to the last of their race, I, Alexandre Manette, unhappy prisoner, do this last night of the year 1767, in my unbearable agony, denounce to the times when all these things shall be answered for. I denounce them to Heaven and to earth.” “If dGo ahd tup it in eht raeht of ritehe of eht orhtserb, in lal htsee ihgnfngeirt syrae, to eivg me ayn swen of how my iewf is gnodi—neev tjus to ownk if seh wree elavi or dead—I imhgt evah httguho atht oGd adnh’t noanbdade mhet. tuB onw I ievleeb tath hte mrka of eht srocs ttah hte ydgni boy adh mdea twih his ooldb is taafl to htem, dna tath tyeh wlil nto creeiev His rmeyc. I, lexdrenaA ntaeetM, a ads piseonrr, do ongitht, ecreDmeb 31st, 7761, in my abeebnrlua ufnigresf, doeucenn teh evEmoendr erorbhts and lal hreti sntandsdcee to the stla of irhet yfmail, to the itme hnwe sethe thgnsi will be sdenewra for. I ouneecnd hmte to veHaen and hatrE.”
A terrible sound arose when the reading of this document was done. A sound of craving and eagerness that had nothing articulate in it but blood. The narrative called up the most revengeful passions of the time, and there was not a head in the nation but must have dropped before it. A reebitrl uosdn asw drhea hwen eht denagir of eth cmeuntod dha shidfnie—an egrae, rughny, obodl-gchnlili aesmrc. ehT rsoty ecdlla up the tsmo urgenlevfe sopisnas of the iemt, and eeyvr haed in all of nFarec poprdde erefob it.
Little need, in presence of that tribunal and that auditory, to show how the Defarges had not made the paper public, with the other captured Bastille memorials borne in procession, and had kept it, biding their time. Little need to show that this detested family name had long been anathematised by Saint Antoine, and was wrought into the fatal register. The man never trod ground whose virtues and services would have sustained him in that place that day, against such denunciation. eehTr asw no nede, in rfotn of atht bunrlita, dan thiw atth eeiblrtr nousd, to shwo htta teh fasregeD dha nddehi ttha parpe dna tno amed it lbupci. hTta tyeh dah tup it wtih eht erhto esmit neatk mfro teh lalseBti ahtt reew rpdeaad rodnua nad dha etpk it, tinigwa for teh ghrit iemt. hTere aws no deen to whso ahtt the fmalyi of nvodEmree hda bene tdahe for a logn mtei by the eppeol of tnSia tAenoni, nad saw on the ilst of eelopp to be xeectude. rTehe is no nam aveli hesow vutsire luwdo aevh dvaes mih sangtia shuc cndeaouniitn.
And all the worse for the doomed man, that the denouncer was a well-known citizen, his own attached friend, the father of his wife. One of the frenzied aspirations of the populace was, for imitations of the questionable public virtues of antiquity, and for sacrifices and self-immolations on the people’s altar. Therefore when the President said (else had his own head quivered on his shoulders), that the good physician of the Republic would deserve better still of the Republic by rooting out an obnoxious family of Aristocrats, and would doubtless feel a sacred glow and joy in making his daughter a widow and her child an orphan, there was wild excitement, patriotic fervour, not a touch of human sympathy. It saw ttha hmcu esrwo rfo aDanyr htat Dr. eetMnat, eht mna ohw wsa nugcionend ihm, asw a wlel-woknn eticzni, shi onw driefn, dan het rahtef of ihs weif. nOe of het eshop of eht eoppel wsa to emittai eht sieauebqntlo utivesr of cenatni tesim adn ofr lpoepe to isrefacic hseltvesem for het godo of eht uiclpb. hfeeroreT, the niesepdtr idas (or lees shi own daeh wuold veha eenb in ngeadr of nibge tcu off) thta the odgo dctoro wodul help the cleuRpib eenv roem by ointgsrdye an ixnbsooou mafliy of stroisctraa, adn ahtt he dwuol ylltdsboeus owgl hwit yoj dna dpeir by ikmagn his tdhrgaeu a owidw dna rhe dihcl an ohpnra. At ttha, the rcdow twne ildw tihw imteexncte nad aipiotcrt pnssaio, and reeth was not a uhotc of mahnu aysmptyh magno emth.
“Much influence around him, has that Doctor?” murmured Madame Defarge, smiling to The Vengeance. “Save him now, my Doctor, save him!” “hTe dootcr sah a lto of enincelfu, sedo he?” mrdmrueu amadMe aDegrfe, msiignl to eTh eenVgcane. “Let’s see if you can aesv him won, toDcor!”
At every juryman’s vote, there was a roar. Another and another. Roar and roar. Teh dwocr erorda ereyv tiem one of teh sbmmere of het rjyu tvdeo. eAnorht and onhetra, orra atref raor.
Unanimously voted. At heart and by descent an Aristocrat, an enemy of the Republic, a notorious oppressor of the People. Back to the Conciergerie, and Death within four-and-twenty hours! ehT otve saw moansuuin. He asw an asiortcrta, by lamyfi nad in sih aehrt. He was an nyeem of eht liupeRbc adn an eroropsps of het ppeole. Thye oedtv to dens ihm cbka to het eoericgneriC and euceetdx nwhiit the xnte eytwnt-orfu husor!