Two Cities

Chapter 64
The chariot of death rumbles through the streets of Paris with a shrill, piercing sound.Six death carts brought Miss Guillotine the fine wine of the day.Since the realization of the imagination, all the imaginations of the gluttonous and insatiable demons have been concentrated in one invention, that is, the guillotine.But in France, in spite of the great variety of soils and climates, there is not a blade of grass, a leaf, a root, a branch, a twig, under which the conditions of maturity are more permanent than those that gave rise to this monstrosity.Even if a human being is smashed and deformed again with a similar hammer, it will still grow crookedly back to its former suffering appearance.As long as the seeds of violence and oppression are still planted, the fruits of violence, oppression and bullying will definitely be born.

Six death row carts rumbled down the avenue.Time, you omnipotent magician, if you restore the death row cart to its original appearance, it will obviously be the imperial chariot of the autocratic emperor, the chariot of the feudal nobles, the dressing table of Jezebel who exercises power, and an absolute thief Nests instead of churches where God dwells and dwellings for millions of hungry peasants!Nay, the great magician who solemnly enacted the Creator's order never reversed his transformations.If God's will has made you so," said the prophet in the Arabian Nights of Wisdom to the enchanted man, "then you might as well remain so!But if this image of you is only the magic of a moment, go back to who you are!No change, no hope, the death row cart rumbling forward.

The sullen wheels of the six wagons whirled and plowed a curving furrow through the crowd in the street.A person's face is like the ridge of a furrow, and when the plowshare is plowed smoothly, the person's face is turned to two sides. The residents on both sides of the street are used to this kind of scene. There is no one in front of most of the windows, and some windows have windows. He didn't even stop his hands, his eyes only looked at the faces on the car.The owners of some windows have guests to watch the fun, and the owners will point to one of the cars with the museum curator or senior commentator proudly, as if to say who was sitting here yesterday, and who was the day before yesterday.

Someone on the death row car noticed all the above and all the things on his last road, but just stared at them motionlessly.Some people show their attachment to life and people.Someone sat with his head bowed, in wordless despair.There are also people who are very concerned with their appearance, and present themselves to everyone as they have seen them on the stage or in pictures.Several were meditating with closed eyes, trying to control their chaotic thoughts.There was only one poor man left who was so frightened that he looked crazy and drowsy, singing songs and wanting to dance.But none of the condemned prisoners begged for mercy with their eyes or gestures.

A guard composed of several cavalry marched side by side with the prison cart.Some people often turn to them and ask them questions.The question seemed to be the same all the time, because after it was asked, people would crowd towards the third prison wagon.The cavalry walking side by side with the third prison cart pointed their saber at a person in the cart from time to time.People's main curiosity is to know where the person is.The man was standing at the back of the prison van, looking down, chatting with a girl.The lady standing next to the prison car held his hand.The man was not interested in the surrounding scene, nor did he care, just talking with the girl.He was often yelled at in the long streets of Saint-Honoré.Even if the yelling could have moved him, it only made him smile faintly and shake the hair covering his face in passing—his hands were bound and it was difficult to touch his face.

Waiting on the steps of a church is the spy and prison sheep.He glanced at the first one, no.He looked at the second one, and there was none.He was already asking himself, "Could it be that he sacrificed me?" But his face immediately calmed down, and he looked at the third car.

"Where's Evermond?" asked someone behind him. "There. The one in the back." "A girl's hand?"

"That's right," the man shouted. "Down with Evremonde! Guillotine all the nobles! Down with Evremonde!"

"Hush, shush!" the spy begged him in a low voice. "Why not, citizen?" "He's going to fight for his life. He'll be fine in five minutes. Let him be quiet."

But the man kept on yelling, "Down with Evremonde!"Evremond's face was turned towards him for a moment, saw the spy, looked at him earnestly, and turned forward again.The clock struck three times, and the furrow plowed through the crowd made a bend to the execution ground and destination.The faces of the people parted to the two sides, and then joined together, rushing forward closely behind the last plow—and everyone followed to the guillotine.Before the guillotine, several women were knitting and sitting on chairs, as if in a public amusement park.Nemesis stood on the chair headed by it.She was trying to watch her friend.

"Therese!" she called in her high-pitched voice. "Who saw her? Therese Defarge!"

"She never missed it," said a knitter woman in the sisterhood. "No, and I won't miss it now," the Fury said angrily.

"Thales!"

"Louder," the woman suggested.Yes, louder, Nemesis.It was very loud, but she still didn't hear it.Make it bigger, Nemesis, and add some expletives or something.But she still didn't show up.Arrange for other women to search everywhere!Where are you reluctant to leave?And the ones who do it may not be willing to go far, even though they've done terrible things.

"My God!" cried the Fury, stamping her feet on her chair, "here comes the prison cart! Evremonde will be finished in a moment, and she's not here! Look, here's her knitting." ! Her empty chair is waiting for her. I'm so pissed off, I'm so disappointed, I'm going to yell!"

At the moment Furies jumped down from her chair and shouted, the prison van was already leaving.The emissaries of the holy guillotine also put on their torture robes and got ready.Crack—a head was lifted up, and while that head was still able to think and speak, the woman knitting didn't even look up, just read, "One."

After everyone in the second prison van left, the third one drove up.Crack—the women who knit without hesitation and without interruption counted, "Two."

The man believed to be Evermond got out of the car, followed by the seamstress.When he got out of the car, he didn't let go of her calm hand, he always held it according to his promise.He cared to turn her back to the machine that made the "cha" and "cha" - the machine was whining, rising and falling.She looked into his eyes, thanking him.

"Without you, dear stranger, I wouldn't be so calm, for I was a poor little woman, and very timid. Nor could I look up at God—who was killed, too—and pray to him Today can give us light and comfort. I always feel that you are a gift from heaven."

"You, too, were sent to me," said Sidney Carton, "keep your eyes on me, my dear boy, and think of nothing else." I won't think about it anymore. If they are fast, I can even think about it after I let go." "They will be very fast. Don't be afraid!" Although the two of them were among the fast-disappearing death row, they spoke like no one else.Their eyes met, their voices corresponded, they held hands, and their hearts reflected each other.The sons and daughters of the mother of mankind were far apart at first, and had many differences, but now they came together on this dark road, and they wanted to go home together and rest in their mother's arms.

"Brave and generous friend, can you answer one last question for me? I am shallow, so this question bothers me--just a little."

"That kind of problem? Tell me." "I have a cousin, my only remaining relative, who is also an orphan. I love her very much. She is five years younger than me and lives in a peasant family in the south. We are poor After breaking up, she doesn't know my fate at all, because I can't write letters. If I can write, how can I tell her! It's better than now!"

"Yes, it will be better." "I kept thinking when I came here, now I look at your kind and strong face, and feel that you have given me great support. I still think, it's like this: If the Republic really does good things for the poor, and the poor no longer starve and suffer less, my cousin can live a long time, maybe to old age."

"What's your problem, my gentle sister?" "Do you think," those innocent eyes bearing grievances were filled with tears, and the trembling lips parted slightly wider, I am in a better Wait for her in the world where I feel you can receive as much loving attention as I do.Do you think I'll feel like I've been waiting a very long time then? "No. There's no time there, and no worries." "You've given me so much comfort! I'm so ignorant. Should I kiss you goodbye now? Is it time?" "Yes."

She kissed his lips, and he kissed hers, and the two solemnly blessed each other.He let go of his hand, and the thin hand did not tremble.On the face that has no complaints or favors, only sweetness and bright tenacity can be seen, nothing else.She was the one before him—she went.The knitting women counted, "22."

"The Lord said, I am the resurrection, and I am the life. Those who believe in Me will definitely be resurrected even if they die. Anyone who lives and believes in Me will always live."

A large group of voices became more and more complicated.A large swath of faces looked up.A large group of footsteps squeezed in from the outside, and the crowd surged like a tide.All disappeared like lightning. twenty three.

People in the town remarked that night that his face was the most unflappable they had ever seen.Many also said he looked so sublime, comparable to a prophet.

Among the unforgettable victims who died by the same ax was a woman who, not long ago at the foot of a rack, asked permission to write the thoughts that agitated her breast.If Carleton can express his feelings, and his feelings come from the mouth of the prophet, then his thoughts must be like this:
"I saw Barça, Clay, Defarge, Furies, jurors, judges, a whole host of new oppressors rising from the old oppressors destroyed by this instrument of punishment, where the instrument of punishment has not yet been destroyed. Destroyed before it ceased to be used. I saw a fair city and a splendid people rise from the abyss. In their struggle for true freedom, in their victories and defeats, and in the long years that followed, I To see the evils of this age and the one before (the latter being the inevitable result of the former) atone for their sins little by little, and fade away."

I see the people for whom I gave my life enjoying peaceful, productive, prosperous, happy lives in England - I can't see England anymore.I saw Lucy with a baby named after me in her arms.I saw that Lucy's father was old and bent, but in other respects he was as strong as before, and he used his medical skills to save the world and save others wholeheartedly, enjoying a peaceful life.I saw their good friend, the good old man, who gave them his property after ten years, and died peacefully to receive the instruction of the Lord.

I saw that I held a sacred place in the hearts of them and their descendants for countless generations.I saw Lucy become an old lady, weeping for me on my death day.I saw her and her husband, dying, lying side by side on the deathbed.I know that they both occupy the supreme place in each other's souls, but my place in both souls is more honorable and higher.

I saw the child named after me in her arms grow into a man, forging ahead in the path I had walked before.I saw him excelling, and with his brilliance my name was resplendent.I see the smudge I put on that name gone forever.I saw him standing in the first ranks of just judges and upright men.I saw him come here with a child still named after me.At that time, it was already a beautiful place, and the distortion and ugliness of today are gone.The kid had a forehead and blond hair that I was used to seeing.I heard him tell my story to the children, his voice was trembling and full of affection.

"What I've done right now is far better than all I've ever done. My future rest will be sweeter than all I've ever known."

(End of this chapter)