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Автор: Charles Dickens

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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.
"Much influence around him, has that Doctor?" murmured Madame
Defarge, smiling to The Vengeance. "Save him now, my Doctor, save
him!"
At every juryman's vote, there was a roar. Another and another.
Roar and roar.

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