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作者: Charles Dickens

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One of the most remarkable sufferers by the same axe--a
woman--had asked at the foot of the same scaffold, not long
before, to be allowed to write down the thoughts that were
inspiring her. If he had given any utterance to his, and they
were prophetic, they would have been these:
"I see Barsad, and Cly, Defarge, The Vengeance, the Juryman, the
Judge, long ranks of the new oppressors who have risen on the
destruction of the old, perishing by this retributive instrument,
before it shall cease out of its present use. I see a beautiful
city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss, and, in their
struggles to be truly free, in their triumphs and defeats,
through long years to come, I see the evil of this time and of
the previous time of which this is the natural birth, gradually
making expiation for itself and wearing out.

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