| The brothers 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. |
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| The crowd erupted. Charles was doomed. At every juryman’s vote, there was a roar. Another and another. Roar and roar. 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 |
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| Lucie stood stretching out her arms towards her husband, with nothing in her face but love and consolation. |
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 | If I might touch him! If I might embrace him once! O, good citizens, if you would have so much compassion for us! | |
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| Farewell, dear darling of my soul. My parting blessing on my love. We shall meet again, where the weary are at rest | |
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