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作者: Charles Dickens

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Once, he went aloft, and the rope broke, and they caught him
shrieking; twice, he went aloft, and the rope broke, and they
caught him shrieking; then, the rope was merciful, and held him,
and his head was soon upon a pike, with grass enough in the mouth
for all Saint Antoine to dance at the sight of.
Nor was this the end of the day's bad work, for Saint Antoine so
shouted and danced his angry blood up, that it boiled again, on
hearing when the day closed in that the son-in-law of the
despatched, another of the people's enemies and insulters, was
coming into Paris under a guard five hundred strong, in cavalry
alone. Saint Antoine wrote his crimes on flaring sheets of paper,
seized him--would have torn him out of the breast of an army to
bear Foulon company--set his head and heart on pikes, and carried
the three spoils of the day, in Wolf-procession through the
streets.

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