All language subtitles for Henri Xhonneux - Marquis

Hot chocolate
and a brioche for Milord.

The curtain rises!

Put the box aside. You must eat.

Stone and cat piss.

The house's usual.

You know what you have to do
to earn the special.

l'll take the usual.

Do stop provoking me

by sucking on that.

Why must you

refuse my lobsters?

You drive me wild!

l cannot rest

since l saw you
take off your shirt.

l love your body,
so hard and lithe.

Take me!

Take me!

You sicken me, Ambert!

Neither blackmail or love
will get you anywhere.

Gaoler,

please be so kind as to leave.

Do not forget the fouled water.

l'm not good enough for you!

There shall be no more brioche!

l am uneasy.

Where shall we go once we're out?

Wouldn't the Governor like to know?

l've never betrayed anyone!

Back in the Marais,
l was called Pigonou The Grave!

What about Zephyr The Whale,
Delcourt,

your pals in lron Heart's band?

Did l not send them to the galleys?

Your pardon, sir.

Well,

l may have been an informer,

but l'll never be a stool-pigeon.

l will never rat on you.

Shut up and suck!

Here is another one.

Confound it, it tasted good!

Start praying!

The almanac,
my Lieutenant-General.

Saint Gerard, pray for us.

Saint Francis of Assisi, pray for us.

Saint Bruno, pray for us.

Saint Fremant, pray for us.

Pass me the mayonnaise
and pray louder.

Ambert can hear us.

Saint George, pray for us.

Saint Pélagie, pray for us.

Saint Denis, pray for us.

Saint Teresa, pray for us.

Saint Baldwin, pray for us.

''This brazen man
is too strongly proportioned.

''Nature revolts within me

''when imagining his pleasures.''

Do pleasures frighten you
since you no longer enjoy them?

No, Colin. Not me, but my heroine.

The man is too well endowed
for the opening he has chosen.

- ls he chubbier than l?
- Yes.

lt would be child's play for you.

''He cannot overcome the obstacles.

''As soon as he tries,
he is rejected.

''He spreads,

''ushers, tears...''

What a string of verbs!

Do not interfere.

You may give me ideas
once in a while,

- but l am the writer.
- Very well, l'll keep quiet.

But so many verbs...

''The softened flesh gives.

''The path opens.

''The ram penetrates.''

A ram? There is a ram?

Where was it?

An image!

''The ram penetrates.

''l scream dreadfully.

''Soon, the mass is swallowed

''and the snake,

''spouting its weakening venom,

''falls at last, crying with rage.''

Enough, l burn.

Here is the confessor you requested!

Father.
l am the most miserable of women!

A sinner doomed to hell's flames!

Do not despair of divine mercy.

Confess your sins.

l had taken off my clothes

one by one to bathe in the river.

Wait!

While three held me
to the ground,

a fourth masked nobleman

took his pleasure with me.

Not so fast, my child.

Where did he start?

Here?

- Or there?
- Behind.

''Behind''!
What on earth are you saying?

l need more details, my child.

You still wore your underclothing?

- Well...
- Did he pull it off, tear it?

Made a hole.

He took me through my lace.

Here's Turd-Packer
polishing the silver!

The maid at Milady'sl

Piss on it and it will shinel

Turd-Packer!

You drunkards!

Go do your duty

or shall l tell the Governor!

But while this monster
deflowered you,

what did the others do?

- Did they nibble your breasts?
- No.

They wouldn't have dared!
He owned them.

''Owned them''?

You see... 'Twas the King!

Have you lost your mind?

l wish l had.
His mask slipped. l recognized him.

His double chin, his big nose!

'Twas his Majesty!

Else, why would my prison orders
bear his seal?

Liar! Take care!

Do not trifle with divine mercy.

- There is worse, father!
- What can you invent?

l am pregnant!

The King's child
will be born in jail!

''Till now, my friend,
l have been a rogue.

''l courted beauty, was wayward.

''But now, virtue has come

''into my... my...''

lnto my heart.

''Virtue has come into my heart.

''l'll not screw but for money.

''l'll become a stud
for declining women.

''We shall play arse
for a monthly fee.''

No!

You are not reading an almanac!

You seem to forget the stage-play!

l do what l can.
l am not a professional!

l know,

but you are all l have.
Do your best.

You did much better yesterday.

When you say ''play arse'',

you must undulate thus.

On one condition.

l wish to hear
an exciting story later.

Done.

''l'll become a stud
for declining women.

''l'll teach them to play arse

''for a monthly fee.''

Perfect. Go on!

''Already l see a molly who'll soon

''turn forty

''offering me her soft padding...''

Hush! Off stage, into my trousers.

Gaétan de Préaubois.
Governor of the Bastille.

Leave us.

Your Lordship,
l am so pleased to meet you.

l've heard about you.

l have been requesting
this interview for 628 days!

The Governor had other fish to fry...

l did not want to intrude.

ln prison,
one may escape from bores

and snoops.

What can l do for you?

By Jove!

Set me free!

lt oversteps my jurisdiction.

At least, tell me why l am here.

As if you didn't know!

Do you not recall having shat

where you should not have?

No.

This may refresh your memory.

What is it?

Exhibit number one!

At a guess...

it's worth 30 years!

lt's not mine.
lt's a judicial error.

Exhibit number two.

''To the Chief of Police.

''The crime enclosed was committed
by a Marquis,

''refractory dog who,
in spite of his race,

''enjoys undermining
the foundations of religion

''and society.

''The Bastille
would curtail his evil-doings.

''Signed: a good friend.''

An anonymous accusation
is enough for you!

Praise be justice!

Go on, you will obtain
twenty more years.

lt's a plot!

Admit your crime.
Who were your accomplices?

You were not alone.

l'm innocent!

Jail does not scare me.

Your laws are nefarious.

Even from here,
l shall oppose them.

As you please.

Think!

Now, tell me, did you do it?

l've defecated on so many crosses...

A merely poetical demonstration.

But what about
the consequences?

l do not grant society
the right to rule my nature.

l, myself,
refuse to subdue my passions.

You could have told me.

Sex and arse do not mix.

lf the left hand knows not
the right hand's doings,

they are less tempted
to applaud slavishly.

Do not wait. l shall walk back.

Had l not told you
you were no longer welcome?

Juliette! For pity's sake!

Just one more time!

Your breath!

lt's foul!
You smell of fornication.

My love... A little gift.

Can Juliette de Titane
be bought with this trifle?

lt cost me 5,000 crowns!

Money, always money!

How contemptible!

You sully everything!

What's more, you wet the rug.

l know.

Punish me.

Off with your boots.

On the chair.

- Lower your pants.
- Not my pants, mistress!

Be quick about it!

Poor sad little thing!

Yes! Harder!

Bite, goddamn it! Draw Blood!

Yes, that's it!

Go on...

l'm coming!

l like it! Cock-a-doodle-doo!

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

Holy Departed, pray for us.

- Saint Hubert, pray for us.
- Shut up!

Enough!

Look!

The door is open.

Are you going to warn your friends?

Do we put the candles
on the windowsill?

Not so fast.

ls the ladder finished?

One storey...

two storeys...

three storeys...

and...

two steps.

We need three more yards.

No more material.

Ambert!

Ambert!

Pigonou needs to confess urgently!

Justine says she's bearing
His Majesty's child,

which may be true.

l cut... and pocket.

Yours is a cuckold's luck.

Shuffle.

What a nuisance.
lf the rabble were to know,

the scandal would arouse
their discontent.

A bastard would finish off
the regime's reputation.

Double. l spread.

l hold without spreading.

l have an idea.

And l...

a pair of bollocks!

lf Marquis, that profligate,
were to rape Justine,

and public opinion
were to learn about it,

everyone would think

he fathered the child!

You have a better hand at politics
than cards.

Come in.

l beg your pardon, Your Lordship,

but Pigonou asks for Dom Pompero.

Could it be?

We shall learn the reason
for Lupino's disgrace!

l was told it was corruption,

but, somehow,
l feel he must have conspired.

Much more likely!

Otherwise, why would the King
jail his Police Chief?

There's one thing that is clear:

if that rogue Pigonou
does not tell us soon,

why bother to feed him?
l shall kick him out!

You'll have to make room.

You have company.

Don't bother, Ambert,

l'll never give in,

even if you take half of my space!

Don't mind me.

You again, Lupino?

l shall not stay long.

Just until the citizen Pigonou
squeals.

l must be deaf.

A ''citizen'' is about to ''squeal''

without your help?

The Police Chief who arrested you

is now no more
than a poor prisoner.

l accuse myself of having
trafficked with pork.

You know how it is...

l started on my own,
a few slices

on the black market,

and l became a link in the chain.

No sin but should find mercy,
the Lord has forgiven you.

How about Lupino?

But the Lord did not know
the ham was baptised.

l added water.

A thief and a liar.

Like everyone else!
No capital sins.

You know what l am after.

Wait.

l did not tell you what happened

when the retailers

found out.

Mercy! Don't bleed me!

Give us fresh ham, not trash.

lron-Heart ran out.

The farmer-generals
commandeered it all.

You have a first class ham
right here.

l swear l don't! You search me.

What about this?

My leg!

That's right! We want it now!

Retail suicide,
isn't that a capital sin?

l've had enough.

l've already given you
general absolution.

- l certify you pure pork.
- Maybe so,

but l'm not kosher!

You mix everything up!

Of course you're not kosher.

But then...

you'll not give me 24 rosaries
and 12 crucifixes?

Here. Christian charity
has little to do with it.

Next time,

if you do not reveal
Lupino's secret,

you'll be sent back
to the Marais

and see what lron-Heart
has to say to you.

Mercy, father!

l shall do my best,
but he distrusts me.

l am nothing but a poor thief

while he is
an important political prisoner.

What on earth are you accused of?

Of having infiltrated
the Patriotic Citizens' Club

and falling for their ideals

out of love.

How times change!

We must help the people
establish the bourgeoisie.

lt's our only way out.

But l'm a nobleman.

l've never cared
for work or money.

A liberate libertine. l know.

Without faith or law,
lord or master.

l hardly...

dare mention the small favour

you could do for the Nation.

Go ahead.

l have planned to escape

to organise
the revolutionary struggle.

Only you can help me.

Pray tell me in what way.

By giving in to Lambert's lust.

l've been told he's mad about you.

ln short, you want me to bugger him
in the name of freedom?

Exactly.

You'd help bring down a regime
we both despise.

Hush!

They are hard to catch this season!

l prefer...

feathers to the rump.

l understand your scruples.

l grant you that sodomy
goes against Nature,

but for such a noble cause...

My one and only noble point
may be found

in my bodily appendage,

whom l will consult
democratically

as he is rather whimsical.

Someone's coming.

The people count on you.

Before breaking out,
l shall knock on the wall so.

You'll call Ambert.

lt all depends on you.

lt all depends... on him.

- Death to aristocrats!
- Take that!

- String up the tyrant!
- And that!

And that!

Long live Revolution!

You have gone too far!

- To the Bastille with you!
- Have mercy, Juliette!

Now... where shall l lock you up?

- ln that big tower?
- The ''Bazinière''?

lt's for women!

l see three candles burning.

The ''Berthaudière''.

- lt's full up.
- Who is there?

Not my barbs!

l'll talk!

A ruffian, a conspirator

and a loony.

The conspirator will do for you.

No. Lupino shares a cell
with Pigonou,

and you know Marquis is abnormal.

He scares me.

ln the middle cell, then.

lt's the guard's.

- How many men?
- l don't know. l forget.

Twelve!

l need some exercise.

l have a proposal.

- What?
- Ambert!

l'll not consider it.

lt no longer concerns us

and the improvement
of our comfort.

lt's a good deed.

You doing a good deed?
Wonder of all wonders!

To help escape the man
who brought on our misfortune,

to free the one who locked us in,

isn't that greatness of soul?

Done!

Without any conditions?

Yes, one.

Give and take.

l've always wanted to deflower
that wall.

What do you see in it?

Look...

towards your left,

a bit down.

By Jove!

What a lovely crack!

l've seen better ones outside,

but we'll give it a screw!

Certainly not,
that slit has sharp edges.

That or no Ambert.

l give in!

But don't complain afterwards.

Pray forgive me, ma'am.
The little one can't take it.

See where abstinence leads to!

Wasting your precious seed
as if it were ordinary urine!

You didn't knock!
l have my private...

Your privates, certainly.

Do not despair.
Mother Church is understanding

although you refuse confession.

l bring you good news.

God's gift.

Go to hell!

Guard!

No matter the sinner's crime,

he must take part
in God's creation

using an appropriate vessel.

Come, my son.

Use her as you will,
you have my blessing.

Et ego tanquem dei minister
vos in matrimonium conjunguo.

To me!

The prisoner has escaped!

- To me!
- Did you hear, Rudi?

Turd-Packer's lost his prisoner!

Where is she, drunkards?

Enjoying herself with Marquis,
Turd-Packer.

Governor's orders.

With the priest's approval.

Marquis!

He's giving her
what l've longed for.

Why her and not me?

Now that we have the real thing,
you mince.

Look at her.

lsn't she fleshier than the wall?

l'd love to,
but my head hurts so much.

A little exercise would help.

No, l don't feel like exercising.

Perhaps a spicy tale...

''A tale''?

Can't you see madam's flesh quiver?

Look.

She pants with fright.

We shall make her ours.

Mercy, good sir! l'm with child,

but the fruit of my entrails
is doomed.

The way l feel,

l'll never manage

without a story.

Very well.

A story.

''The twenty year old woman,
with child,

''is lifted

''on a pedestal, seven...
No! Eight feet tall.

''Unable to place both feet,

''she balances on one.

"She is then given a flexible pole.

"Understandably,
she'll try not to fall.

"On the other hand,
she doubtlessly will.

"This possibility
amuses the four monks.

"They each have a couple of women
who excite them

"while they watch the show.

"ln spite of her condition,

"she does not fall
for fifteen minutes.

"But her strength fails,

"she lands on the thorns
and the villains

"for the last time,
offer on her body

''the foul homage
of their ferocity.''

l am so moved!

You too, sir, must have suffered

to describe so justly
human lowliness.

Quite exciting.
There were less verbs than usual.

How many times
must l tell you that style

- is my business!
- Take off my bandage.

Little do l know about literature,

but l found it sublime!

What intuition, what sensitivity!

Let's enter her.

Madam, your praises
touch the heart

of the poor readerless writer
that l am.

lf you do not consider her unworthy,

poor Justine would find relief

in hearing your other works.

Do not fall asleep.
Put me inside.

You're exasperating.

Would you lend me your ribbon?

With pleasure.

Help me.

There.

The knot is tight.

He'll not bother us.

He's not a bad fellow,
a little obsessed.

''May my tomb disappear

"from earth

"as l hope my memory will
from men's minds.

"We've not been granted
the power to destroy,

"but only that of varying shapes.

"But shape is of no importance
in Nature's eyes.

"Our destruction revives her power
and energy.

"What does she care

"if that mass of flesh,
the biped individual,

"tomorrow becomes
one thousand insects?

"Nature's foremost quality

"is her constant movement,

"an endless chain of crimes.

"Passion is but a means
to fulfill her designs.

"To Nature, the most sublime of men

''is of no more importance
than an oyster.''

''Eros stronger than death!''

Admirable!

What was that?

A piece of anthology
of French literature.

lt comes from here...

in my pants.

Save me! Help!

l can't breathe!

l'm dying!

My poor Colin,

he's dead.

- l killed him.
- His pulse is still beating.

l feel it in my hand.

lf he dies, l'll commit suicide!

He must be bled.
Quick, a lancet!

Pray do, l simply can't.

The congestion is relieved,
now to stop the blood.

He's saved.

l can feel him
coming back to life.

Your cares do him good.

Damnation!

Stop this immediately!
Let him be!

Out, harlot!

One of these days, you'll be sorry

for all you didn't do to me.

l'll never forget our time together.

l hope your friend
will soon be re-established.

Out, l said!

l've had enough of your filth!

Murderer!

You tried to get rid of me
out of jealousy!

You thought she'd prefer me!

You betrayed our friendship!

You would not keep quiet
while l courted her.

But l was wrong,

please forgive me.

Like hell!

l'm disfigured.

And l know
you prefer words to deeds.

Deep down, you do not deserve me.

A misunderstanding.
l swear he did not touch me.

Liar!

Why would the Governor
lock you up with him?

Because Marquis asked him to!

Among their class,
favours are granted.

You gave him all he asked for,
own up!

Have mercy! We spoke of literature.

You prig!

He buggered you.

But you don't dare say so!

l'm not good enough for him.

l bet he rammed through every hole,

he really polished his acorn.

l caught you trying
to give him a hard-on,

you wanted more!

l was curing him,

on my honour!

You cannot understand.

l don't understand!

But you're a man!

Do not mock me,
my breasts are a little low.

Let go of my teat!

A miracle, four of them!

Not like that!

Your nails!

Now tell me

how he took you!

He respected me.
He's a gentleman.

l love him, l do.

So do l, l love him.

As he won't take me,
l'll take you.

l admire your flat, clean country.

lt did much to diffuse
Descartes' works.

God be damned!
A rationalist to boot!

Although the King and l
are cousins,

we do not eat from the same rack.

Blood ties are weaker than money.

The Duke of Orleans...

- Do you know the latest?
- What?

Did the King pinch his finger?

Marquis, that degenerate,
has done it again!

- Did he escape?
- Much better!

He raped a poor maiden
inside the Bastille!

At times, my blue blood shames me.

God be damned!
Are your jails mixed?

Men and women are separate,

but nothing deters that monster.

That fake nun,

wasn't that him?

Fatal! And the scandal
of the domestic animals.

l'll never defend him.

Allow me: Jacquot the Fatalist,
barrister of the chicken-coop.

To whom have l the honour?

Willem van Mandarine,

special envoy
of the Low-Countries' Gazette

in Paris.

Are you interested in Marquis?

My work is more general:

the state of the Kingdom
in the year 1 788.

Prison life also interests me.

Would it be possible to enter
the Bastille and leave again?

You're lucky!

l fatally know
the Governor's paramour.

Yes, it's a novelty.

The most deserving prisoner
shares the Xmas lobster.

l hope it becomes a tradition
in the Bastille.

l could do with a little more.

l feel strange
eating with a prisoner.

What did you do?

High treason,
clandestine opposition?

A pork trafficker.

The exemplary conduct
of this swindler

has given us much satisfaction.

'Tis only fair he be rewarded.

Yet, l've heard much evil
about your jails.

l know.
We are unfairly slandered,

but rumours merely hit the wall
of our indifference.

Pray mention that we are the first

to have instated health care.

The lady Juliette
is the benefactress.

Her devotion is admired by all.

l am but the humble god-mother
of the unlucky.

Allow me, Mr. Pigonou...

A small gift l myself embroidered.

Thank you, ma'am.

Charming.

l heard about a harder case.

You must refer to Marquis,

our black sheep.

How is the victim?
She was raped, l believe.

Poor Justine!

Her larger lips are swollen,

the smaller ones, torn,

her buttocks, scratched,

her udder, flattened,

her spider completely bruised,

her sirloin flushed,

her pear totally open,
a slaughter!

Enough! You're ruining my appetite.

The brute!

Four,

four just for supper.

There were four of you?

l want names.

Four big lobster tails,
Lieutenant-General.

l'm stuffed!

l have cold sweats!

What's this?
Did you steal a napkin?

No.

A little gift from our god-mother.

What teats!

A mouth wide enough
for a whole salami.

Juliette!

''Merry Xmas. Midnight

''at the balcony.''

lt's tonight.
We must prepare the ladder.

''And thus, accused of a crime
l did not commit,

''my torturers took away

''ink and paper.

''Freedom or death!

''Signed:

''Marquis.''

How do you plan to send it?

By the window.
Whoever picks it up,

moved by my misfortunes,

will take it

to its Royal Addressee in Versailles.

Unless it lands on his head!

Enough! l didn't know
you were so spiteful.

What do you know about me?

You devote no time to me.

What about the stories
l tell you, Colin?

Stories are not enough.

l need action,

- to live as before.
- So do l.

lt doesn't seem so!

- l've written another letter.
- The 101st!

lt will remain unanswered
as all others.

You're nothing but a vain Utopian.

You're not down-to-earth as l am!

Poor legless cripple!
Where are your feet?

l have yours.

- Your body belongs to me.
- What more?

Your five senses. l rule them too.

Faugh! Who does the little one
think he is?

Don't call me ''little''!

You're not the boss.

l can make you lose your head.

Without my imagination,

your sensations would be as flat

as one of Rousseau's dreams!

l also rule over your imagination.

l'd like to see you try!

Behind you!

A spider!

Filthy thing!

l hadn't seen it.

Look at it.

What do you do after the show?

My dear, you have wonderful legs

and what bellies!

Don't you like her?

The signal!

- You have to keep your promise.
- What promise?

l didn't promise anything!

Are you backing out?

l'm losing patience!

l didn't hit the wall for nothing!

We had agreed to help them.
l gave my word.

They escape and we stay.

Either we'll leave by the door

or nothing.

Ambert!

Here l am. What is it?

l feel a craving for lobsters.

Don't worry, lovely.
l'll bring you a big one!

- A real feast!
- But, Ambert, that's not lobster.

lt's crawfish.

Whatever,
but you must earn it!

Your smell!

Your smell!

l can't wait!

Come, my doggie!

Come!

Didn't you want

to lead your own life?

- Show them what you've got.
- l can't.

Come, little one.

- Come!
- Courage!

l couldn't, even with a helmet.

- Debunking?
- Let me into my pants!

You're taking a long time!
Enough whisperings!

What can we do?

Stick in the lobster!

lt's a crawfish.

Ram it up!

lt won't fit.

With mayonnaise.

The boat is there.

The coach too.

Everything is as regular
as clockwork.

Bring in your wooden ham first.

So good!

l'm not sorry

to have waited so long.

Wait, not too fast.

l want it to last.

The Bastille prison
has the best garrison.

We screw all the maidens,
drain all the flagons.

To me the guardl
Quick, another potionl

To me the guardl
Here l come, Lisonl

Make another effort!

Suck in your belly!

l already have!
l can't do no more.

Use your hands, move your arse!

lf you didn't eat like a pig!

l'm pulling through.

We're out!

Don't play around.

The ladder's gone!

Hang on tight!

Use your nails, your teeth, anything!

l can't!

l'm slipping!

To me the guard!

Ambert! Help!

To me!

''Xmas at the Balcony'' has failed!

To me the guard!

To me the guardl
Quick, another potionl

To me the guardl

Here l come, Lisonl

l'm coming!

Why do you back up?

There's a bone.

Did my Lord think
he could fly the coop?

To your kennel!

When Phoebus'soft rays

The harvest will array,

Armed with sickles,

The Bastille we'll tickle.

Armed with sickles,

The Bastille we'll tickle.

Pretty Citizen, good Patriot,

Come join the Sans-Culottes.

Good day, inn-keeper!
Open up!

We're closed, a kinsman died.

Pretty Citizen, good Patriot,

Come join the Sans-Culottes.

To achieve freedom,

lsn't Summer the best Kingdom?

The Spring session

of the Patriotic Citizen's Club
is now open.

Citizen Bernadin, owner of the inn

of the Wounded Nightingale,
has the floor.

Well,

after listening to my patrons

and having drunk flagons
with the Patriotic Citizens

of Saint Louis and the Cité,

l'm convinced

that the time is ripe
to take the Bastille.

Fatal! Jacquot had said so!

However,

the people lack experience.

Fatality, fate's irony!

Our only professional conspirator

is in jail!

The goal of the operation
''Hot Summer''

will be to deliver Lupino,

the providential man

who'll lead us to victory.

l hope it will be more successful

than ''Xmas at the Balcony''.

A costly failure, that was!

lt will work out!

lf Jacquot says so,
it will fatally work!

Jacquot also said so last year

about operation
''A Free Michaelmas'',

after l greased the guards' palms.

The plot wasn't worth a damn.

How could Jacquot foresee
that the guards

would get drunk
and forget to open the gate?

lt will be a hot summer, citizens,

l'll take an oath on it.

And l'm also running out of tricks.

The Governor
constantly wants more.

l'll end up having to kill him
to please him.

l'll give you till mid-July

before l stop financing
the Revolution.

l'll cut off the funds
and turn my coat.

My lord wanted to help others,

and here l am, chained!

File harder, you'll never make it!

l was wrong, l'm also paying for it.

Liar!

You make do with anything
as long as you have a pen

and paper.

Don't add insult to injury!

lf only l could write my thoughts!

l'll go mad!

You're free.

Well, l know
what's left for me to do.

See what Health Care
in the Bastille sends you.

That child may be the fruit
of a monster's deeds,

but do not forget he's innocent.

You must love him
as a Christian mother would.

- The King a monster?
- Always that idea!

Marquis fathered the child,

no one but him!

Marquis plants other fruits.

Hidden specialities?
l thought as much.

A powerful creator
with a fertile imagination,

who touches only the essential.

Such subtle, voluptuous ways!

The sinner seems to be gifted!

The few pages he read
moved me deeply.

Torn from a lewd book, of course.

No, he wrote them.

He betrays the torments
of human soul.

He told you about torments
and not me?

Ambert!

ls she in labour?

Go to Marquis' cell
and bring me all his papers.

Did you tell him l was the father?

No, he still thinks it's Marquis.

Don't mention him!

Our fruit...

l thought that l'd have
no descendants,

that my name would fall
into oblivion.

My lobster!

''He's tied

''on all fours like a wild beast,

''then covered with a tiger skin.''

Put that tool to a better use: dig.

''They proceed to excite him,
to unnerve him, whip him,

''bugger him...''

''They proceed to excite him,
to unnerve him, whip him,

''bugger him...

''Across from him
stands a naked and fleshy maiden,

''tied to the floor and ceiling,

''unable to move.

''As soon as the rake is on fire,
he's freed,

''and attacks the maiden
as a beast would, biting her flesh,

''especially her clitoris and nipples,

''tearing them off
between his teeth.

''He screams and howls
while sticking in her arse a dildo

''that discharges through a spring.''

A spring-loaded dildo, God damn it!

No, sir.

God bless it.

God be damned! Magnificent!

A spring-loaded dildo!

What an imagination!

Did you write it?

You must be a foreigner.

But l seem to recall your accent.

Allow me: Willem van Mandarine,

special envoy
of the Low Countries' Gazette.

D. P., incognito priest
reviewing his parish.

Your hump reminds me
of someone l know.

But you are a great writer.

l'll publish your work.

This is too great an honour

for a poor amateur.

lt will sell like hot cakes.

Who could be interested in reading

the lucubrations
of a chimerical fornicator?

The public!

l'm willing to sign a contract

and give you an advance.

Not here.

Let's adjourn next door.

What? Only five per cent
on the price?

lt's the usual.

Diderot signed it
without complaining!

Three hundred pages in a month!

l find it a bit drastic.

My heart is set on publishing
before summer 89.

Yes.

l'll manage.

There is, however,
a delicate matter...

4,000 Guilders,

not one more.

That's not it.

Due to my position,

my being a priest,

l cannot go about it openly.

l shall have to choose a pseudonym.

l understand.

Take anyone's:
Mirabeau, La Bretonne, Voltaire...

Something less compromising.

Sade.

''Sade''?

Yes. S-A-D-E.

Sinful Addressee Died Estranged.

Goose feathers slide on their own

on this marvellous Dutch vellum!

But this is your place.
l detain your work.

Sit down, sir.

To what do l owe these favours?

To a highly placed person

who loves you well.

The scoundrels!

My manuscripts!

They stole them!

And my slit!

Where are my manuscripts?

l asked for his papers

and you brought me back his shirt!

l probably used them
as toilet-paper.

Scum! llliterate!

To throw unpublished material
in the cesspool!

There's only air up there!

l cleaned his cell
while he was being punished.

What are sheets good for
when they are full?

Every night, do you hear me,

you shall bring
what he has written.

Don't throw anything out,
not even a line!

At home, we don't read books,
we eat them.

Rise, poet,
and take the feather-sharpener.

What for?

''Hitting Low with Two Dying Nuns'',

''Gonorrhoea in Gomorrah'',

''The Misfortunes of Bishop Bang''...
my masterpieces have flown!

Never will l write again, not a word!

At last!

Do as l tell you, take the knife.

Loosen the stones
and dig a tunnel!

lt's not easy for an artist's hands.

You didn't mind hurting them
to write.

l warn you,

l can't take it anymore.

l'm rusting!

My life's expectation
is shorter than yours!

Well, l shall dig after my nap.

Here you are!

Fresh from this morning.

l picked them up myself
close to Saint-Mandé.

They are rabbit's droppings,
not lamb's?

Yes, my heart,
just what you wanted.

l found a burrow.

They do look damp.

They're still wet from the dew.

- Taste one!
- Not me!

- l don't have cravings!
- l won't eat any then!

lt's your fault
if the baby goes hungry.

For my son's sake.

There.

- What does it taste like?
- Like droppings.

Not bad.

l don't believe you.

l shall not eat!

l swear he no longer writes,

not one line, not one word!

Only Marquis' literature
can give me a taste for living.

Colin! Colin!

l must have bitten myself
while dreaming.

l was in a wood.

You had left me behind,
double-crosser!

You had disappeared.

What a nightmare!

You lie.

A deadline is a deadline!

l've already given you one respite.

lnspiration has no master.

There is a way.

My prayers have remained
unanswered.

Why not screw a little, abbot?

When imagination fails,
there's nothing like a doe

with breasts as big as her arse.

A muse with nice breasts...

l know what to do!

- lt stings!
- There we are.

l'll dress the wound.

Get down to business.

l beg your pardon?

Just my stomach.

Your figure moves me.

Unfortunately, my body can do
nothing but inspire compassion.

Yet,

look in my eyes.

l see reflected tender feelings
that l do not deserve.

But you do.

Listen to my heart.

You make me lose my head.

One kiss was enough

to cure me.

You'll soon write again!

Never, not a line.
My mind is made up!

There'll be no sequel to
''Bishop Bang''?

How do you know the name
of my youngest?

He was torn away from me
as l added ''End''.

He is here as well as
''Gonorrhoea in Gomorrah''

and ''Hitting Low
with Two Dying Nuns'',

my favourite!

Am l dreaming?

Why do you have
my complete works

and in pieces, to boot?

Thanks to Ambert's abject love

for the poor Justine.

- Then he is the father?
- No.

He raped me,
but l already carried life's breath.

- The true sire...
- Hush,

harlot!

''While l sucked one,

''and l shook and sullied
the other...''

A young mother reading such filth!
Withheld!

l have more than enough!

They are mine, thief!

You'll go down below
with the madmen!

''Well, La Rose,
said Saint Florent,

''narrow her a bit.

''They spread me wide open
on the ground.

''The one about to reduce
the openings

''took a long needle
and a waxed thread.

''lgnoring the gushing blood,

''and the pain
he was inflicting on me,

''watched
by the two laughing men,

''the monster neatly sowed up

''the gateway
to the Temple of Love.''

How decadent!

We shall be ashamed
of having taught the people to read.

Sade...

Who can this pseudonym be hiding?

The poet André Chénier?

Perhaps,
but somehow l don't think so,

Fabre d'Eglantine?

Only a nobleman
can write such horrors, lord.

Fatal!

Versailles has fun
and ignores the people.

Shocking!

They enjoy watching
their own decline.

The time is near.

We'll impose a new order...

...to a wider patronage!

What is it like?

A male.

My son!

We must get rid of it!

Wait, l'll christen it.

Ego te baptiso, Dalmatian,

in nomine patris et filii
et spiritus sancti. Amen.

Show me my son.

The iron mask!

Here, Ambert,

feed it to the lobsters.

My son to the lobsters?

But it's the vile Marquis' offspring!

Now l can tell you,

Marquis never touched her.

l sired him with my good seed.

You're raving.

Tell them l raped you, my love,

that l am his true Daddy!

You? Not the way you took me,
wretch!

ln truth, it is His...

Enough. Make it disappear,
lt's an order!

- And murder an innocent?
- A culprit,

bearing his father's guilt!

Kill him!

Marquis, my love,
you were right!

''Oh, unfortunate Justine,

''true happiness
may only be found in virtue.

''God allows it
to be persecuted on earth

''and compensates it in heaven.''

By Jove! lt sounds just like Sade.

Per istam sanctam unctionem.

Yes, page 288.

lndulgeat tibi dominus
quidquid deliquisti. Amen.

Then, the mysterious Sade...

- is...
- Marquis!

Do not tell anyone!

lf it became known,
you'd be in danger.

The ''Liaisons Dangereuses''
bore me.

l'd like to be an indiscreet jewel.

You are one play behind.

Here is Dolmancé,
the most corrupt man on earth.

ln that case, kiss me.

l am Madame de Saint-Ange.

What ears!

What a neck!

Tenderly!

You're not slaughtering her!

You tickle me!

Bless you, sister Teresa.

Lupino, you're dreadful!
What a mixture!

Any madman would do better!

Colin, show him
how to say his lines.

l'm gone!

What do you mean?
l see you.

l won't.
l don't trust you anymore.

Who is he speaking to?

He thinks his pants
are full of comedians.

''Hugging his Dalmatian,

''poor Ambert pushes forward.

''Trudging up the hill

''to show his son the ocean.

''Kill, they told the man.

''But a bad fellow l am not.

''The Bastille is crumbling.

''Better leave when we can.

''They say England has jails.

''There our bread we will earn.

''As you are your father's son,

''A gaoler you shall become.''

''57, the seal of infamy.''

The best is yet to come.

''58...

''she sticks fire-crackers
up his arse.

''The flames lick his buttocks,
toasting them.''

lt's tempting.

No.

We can do better.

- There's the house special.
- What house?

Why, yours!

The torture room of the Bastille!

l dreamed about it,

but l wanted you
to take the initiative.

Let us go!

Executioner, do your duty!

Where are you going to stick
those big keys?

Nowhere!

The play is over!

l'll free Lupino,

the People's Coach!

The beyond awaits you,
Sister Anne!

Let go of him, fat brute!

Citizen Lupino,

do not die,

the Revolution needs you.

The Holy Virgin!

The play has started,
we must carry on, Citizen Juliette.

The door is open. Let us run!

l want to fuck her now

on the straw.

Enough!

l say leave, you say screw,
l say screw, you say no.

Does my mind rule you

or do you rule it?

A thorny question.

The answer

is inside her body,

l'm quite willing
to try and find it.

lnstead of mumbling, help me.

What shall we do?

Stop rehearsing?

A carriage is waiting.

We shall be safe at the inn.

Gentlemen,
the world awaits our talent.

Nowhere will we be as comfortable.

Your cue or l'll shave them off!

Open the gates!

Governor's orders!

Not a step further. Let's return
to the convent, sister Anne.

What are you doing, citizen?

Privations have unbalanced them.
Come back.

Guard!

Shoot, for God's sake!

They're escaping!

Fire!

Shoot!

Goodbye, boss.

Untie me, moron!

The egg carrying the people's hope
has broken!

To the carriage, quick!

Juliette!

- Why did you leave me?
- Hurry!

l cannot hold the horses!

To me the guard!

They're escaping, shoot!

Fire!

Not at me, idiots!

- lt's my fault he died!
- No.

The true fault
grants much pleasure.

Rightly so,

l felt pleasure.

Any man can be replaced.

Lupinos abound.

But Préaubois are few.

l have lost my slave and master.

l'd willingly be both.

lntroduce me, Marquis.

Marquis!

You are him!

Mercy me!
l know your reputation.

Spare me!

You have arrived.

Jacquot's goose is cooked.

A fatality.

Faster, the list of your sins
must be long.

lt hurts.

l like it.

l'm coming.

She's here!

She pinches my heart...

l come!

Cock-a-doo...

Straight to hell.

Death hates being taken
for a whore.

- What is the Fatalist doing?
- Dead.

A martyr!

The nation will honour him!

- Where is Lupino?
- Dead.

Two martyrs!
The Bastille is taken.

They did not die in vain.

What about Juliette?

- ls she dead too?
- ln her chamber.

l'll call her.
Come in and tell us all.

l must hurry!

Bernardin expects me.

The revolt is spreading.

lt will be a hot summer.

Tell Juliette she has a seat
at the Assembly.

Goodbye.

Congratulations!

Juliette!

Juliette!

Good news.

The Bastille has been taken.

lt's a bloody mess.

God's blood!

Too late!

Be strong, Colin.

Look.

l'll take care of it.

You don't understand...

She is dead.

What is death?

A crime committed by Nature
to screw you!

l don't care!

l want to kiss her.

An angel.

''Love stronger than death''!
Justine said so.

Virtuous Justine!

Are you really leaving?

Juliette needs me
to feed her revolutionary flame.

Of course, you could come with us
if you want.

You don't need me.

l'd be in the way.

She'd probably end up

by loving you.

lt's your story,

not ours.

You are free.

We went through so much together.

l expected it,

but not so soon.

- Be strong.
- And you,

be prudent.

Juliette is no different
from others,

but what will you, l'm in love.

l know.

l went through that before you.

And now, go.

Don't forget...

When writing,

not too many verbs!

''My downfall was not caused
by my way of thinking

''but that of others.''

Subtitling - TELETOTA