Original subtitles

Hot chocolate and a brioche for Monsieur the Marquis!

The curtain rises!

Put the box aside,

you must eat.

Stone and cat piss.

The house's usual breakfast.

You know perfectly well what must be done

to earn the special.

I'll take the usual.

Cease provoking me

by sucking on that old crust.

Why do you persist

in refusing my lobsters?

You drive me wild!

I haven't slept

since I saw you take off your shirt

at the registry.

I love your body,

so hard and lithe.

Take me, take me!

You sicken me, Ambert.

What you failed to obtain through blackmail,

you will not gain through sentiment.

Gaoler,

please be so kind as to leave my cell.

And do not forget the fouled water!

Ah...

I'm not good enough for you.

Tomorrow, no more brioche!

I am not at ease.

Where shall we go once we're out?

Ha, ha, ha!

Wouldn't the Governor like to know that?

I've never betrayed anyone.

You know that back in the Mara is,

they called me Pigonou the Vault!

What about Zephyr the Whale, Delcourt,

your accomplices from the Iron-Heart's gang?

Is it not thanks to you that I was able to send them to the galleys?

Your pardon, Lieutenant-General.

I may have been your informer outside,

but I shall never be a stool pigeon.

I will never rat on you.

Shut up and suck!

Here is another one.

Damn, that was a good one!

What are you waiting for? Start praying!

One moment,

I am taking the almanac, Lieutenant-General.

Saint Gerard, pray for us,

Saint Francis of Assisi, pray for us,

Saint Bruno, pray for us,

Saint Fremant, pray for us, Saint...

Hand me the mayonnaise and pray louder.

Ambert might hear us.

Saint George, pray for us,

Saint Pelagia, pray for us,

Saint Denis, pray for us,

Saint Theresa, pray for us,

Saint Baldwin, pray for us.

This brazen man

is too well-endowed

and nature revolts within me

at the mere suspicion of his pleasures.

Do pleasures frighten you

since you no longer enjoy them?

You are mistaken, Colin.

It is my heroine speaking.

The one she is dealing with is too well-endowed

for the chosen orifice.

Is he chubbier than I?

Oh, yes.

For you, it would be child's play...

He cannot overcome the obstacles.

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

He spreads, he presses, he tears...

You're using too many verbs in a row.

Don't meddle with the style...

You may give me ideas once in a while,

but I am the writer.

Fine, fine...

I'll keep quiet.

But you're using too many verbs.

The softened flesh yields,

the path opens up.

The ram penetrates...

The ram?

There's a ram now?

Where did it come from?

A metaphor!

The ram penetrates.

I scream in terror.

Soon, the entire mass

is swallowed

and the snake,

spouting its weakening venom,

finally surrenders, weeping in rage.

Oh, stop, you're exciting me!

Here is the confessor you requested!

Father!

I am the most miserable of creatures!

A sinner doomed to the flames of hell.

Do not despair of divine mercy, my child.

Confess your sins.

I had removed my clothes

one by one to bathe in the river...

Wait!

While three held me to the ground,

a fourth gentleman, his face hidden by a mask,

took advantage of me in every possible way...

Not so fast, my child.

Where did he start?

Here?

Or there?

From behind.

From behind?

What strange tale are you telling me?

I need more details, my child.

Did you keep your undergarments on?

Well...

Or did he tear them off? Perhaps even rip them?

He made a hole.

He took me through my lace, Father.

Look, Turd-Packer polishing the brass!

The farm maid!

Piss on it and it will shine better!

Turd-Packer!

You drunkards!

Go take your guard duty

or I'll report you to the Governor!

While this monster deflowered you,

what were the others doing?

Were they nibbling your breasts?

No, they wouldn't have dared!

- They were at his service. - At his service?

You see...

It was the King.

You're mad!

- You're delirious! - No, alas!

His mask slipped and I recognized him.

His double chin, his large nose.

It was His Majesty.

Otherwise, why would he have had me imprisoned by lettre de cachet?

Oh! Pretentious and a liar!

Beware,

one does not trifle with divine mercy.

There is worse, Father!

What are you inventing now?

I am pregnant with his works!

The King's child will be born in jail.

Till now, my friend,

I have been a scoundrel.

I courted beauty, was wayward.

But now, virtue has come...

into my... into my...

Into my heart.

Virtue has come into my heart.

I shall only screw for money.

I'll become a stud for aging women

and I will teach them to play with their bodies for a monthly fee.

No, no, and no!

You recite my play as if reading an almanac!

You seem to forget the stage-play!

I am doing my best...

- I am not a professional! - I know!

But you are the only performer I have at hand.

Do your best.

Redo the end as you did in yesterday's rehearsal.

When you say "to play with their bodies",

you must undulate

like this.

Agreed, provided you invent me

a more exciting story later.

Deal.

I'll become a stud for aging women

and I will teach them to play with their bodies for a monthly fee.

Perfect. Go on!

Already I see a molly

who has only six months left

to complete her forties,

offering me her soft padding...

Hush! Off stage!

Into the pants.

Gaétan de Préaubois,

Governor of the Bastille.

Leave us, Ambert.

Monsieur le Marquis,

I am delighted to meet you,

I have heard much about you.

I have been requesting this interview for 628 days!

The Governor surely had other fish to fry...

I did not want to intrude...

Isn't one of the advantages of prison

to escape from the annoying and the importunate?

What can I do for you?

By Jove!

Set me free!

That's beyond the limits of my authority.

At least, tell me why I am here.

As if you didn't know!

Do you not recall having shat

where you should not have?

No.

This will refresh your memory.

What is it?

Exhibit number one!

At a guess,

it's worth 30 years!

It's not mine.

It's a judicial error.

Exhibit number two.

Monsieur the Chief of Police, the enclosed offense

was committed before my eyes

by a certain Marquis,

a notoriously rebellious dog who, despite his rank,

enjoys undermining the foundations

of religion and society.

The Bastille would curtail his evil-doings.

Signed: a well-meaning friend.

You rely on an anonymous denunciation.

Your justice is admirable!

Go on, you'll earn yourself another 20 years.

This is a conspiracy!

Admit your crime. Reveal the names of your accomplices.

In my opinion, you were not acting alone.

I'm innocent!

Jail does not scare me.

Your laws are villainous

and even within these walls,

I will continue to oppose them.

As you please. Think it over!

Between us...

Did you do it?

If I had to remember all the crucifixes I've defiled...

A purely poetic stance!

One with heavy consequences!

What do you expect?

I do not grant society the right to rule my nature,

since I, myself, refuse to subdue my passions

and desires.

You could have at least told me.

Sex and arse do not mix.

When the right hand does not know what the left hand is doing,

they are not tempted to applaud slavishly

at every opportunity.

No need to wait for me,

I'll walk back.

Had I not told you

you were no longer welcome?

Juliette... Please...

- One last time... - Pah!

Your breath!

You reek of bad breath and spread a stench of fornication.

My love, accept this small gift.

You didn't really think you could buy

Juliette de Titane with this trinket?

It cost me 5,000 crowns.

Money!

Always money!

How contemptible!

You soil everything.

Moreover,

you've wet the rug.

Yes, I know.

Punish me.

Remove your boots.

Stand on the chair.

Lower your breeches.

Oh no, not the breeches, Mistress!

Yes, and be quick about it!

Ah, ah, ah!

Poor sad little thing.

Oh yes!

Yes, harder!

Oh yes!

Oh, oh, yes, yes.

Bite me harder, Goddamn it!

Draw Blood!

Yes, yes, that's it...

Ah, ah, oh, go on!

I'm coming!

Oh, oh, oh, yes, that's it...

Cock-a-doodle-doo...

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

Holy Departed, pray for us,

Saint Hubert, pray for us...

Shut up, that's enough.

Look!

The door is open.

Are you going to warn your friends?

Should we put the candles on the windowsill?

Not so fast.

Is the ladder finished?

One storey,

two storeys,

three storeys

and two steps.

We need five more meters!

No more ammunition, Lieutenant.

Ambert!

Ambert!

Monsieur Pigonou needs to confess urgently!

Justine claims to be pregnant

with His Majesty's child

and I have every reason to believe her.

I cut... And pocket.

Ah, ah, ah!

Yours is a cuckold's luck, Préaubois.

Shuffle the cards.

Oh, dire news!

If the rabble were to learn

of the King's conduct in this affair,

the scandal would arouse their discontent.

A bastard would finish off the regime's reputation.

Double. I spread.

I hold without spreading.

I have an idea.

And I, a pair of bollocks!

Ah, ah, ah!

Just have Justine raped

by that debauched Marquis,

then arrange for the public to find out,

and at the child's birth,

everyone will believe he is the father.

Hmmm, you have a better hand at politics

than cards, Abbé!

Come in.

Pardon me, Governor,

Pigonou asks for Dom Pompero.

Are we nearing our goal?

At last, we shall know the reason for Lupino's disgrace.

I was told it was corruption,

but I think that he is involved in a conspiracy.

Most likely.

The King does not jail the Chief of his police without cause.

But I tell you straight, Pompero:

if that scoundrel Pigonou

does not enlighten us,

what good is it to keep him?

I'll throw him out!

You'll have to make room,

I'm bringing you company.

Don't bother, Ambert,

I will never yield to you,

even if you take half of my space.

Ahem...

Don't mind me.

What do you want, Lupino?

I am merely passing by...

Just until Citizen Pigonou squeals.

I must be deaf.

A “citizen” is about to “squeal”

without your help?

The Chief of Police

who arrested you

is now no more than a poor prisoner

like you.

I accuse myself, Father,

of having been a charcuterie trafficker.

You know how it is...

I started on my own,

with a few slices on the black market...

And then

I became a link in the chain.

You have already confessed this sin

and our Lord, in His mercy,

has forgiven you.

How about Lupino?

The Lord did not know the ham was baptized...

I added water.

A thief, and a liar.

Just like everyone else!

No capital sins.

You know very well we are not here for that.

Wait, I have not told you what happened

when the retailers found out...

Oh, no!

Please, don't bleed me!

Give us fresh ham, not junk.

Iron-Heart ran out of supplies.

The tax farmers have seized the shipment.

You have a first class ham right here.

No, I swear.

You can search me.

What about this?

My leg?

That's right! We want it now!

Isn't retail suicide considered a serious sin?

Cease speaking of yourself.

I've already given you a general absolution.

I certify you as pure pork.

Alright, I am pure pork...

But I'm not kosher!

You mix everything up, you fool!

Of course you're not kosher.

But then, you'll not give me

my twenty-four rosaries and my twelve 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 Mara is

and you'll explain yourself alone to Iron-Heart's gang.

Mercy, Father!

I will do my best, but he distrusts me.

After all, I am nothing but a poor thief,

while he is an important political prisoner.

And...

What on earth are you accused of?

Of having infiltrated...

...the Patriotic Citizens' Club of the Left Bank,

and falling for their subversive ideal

out of love.

How times change!

We must help the proletarians of this Kingdom

establish the bourgeoisie.

It's our only way out.

I am neither proletarian, nor bourgeois,

I have no money

and have never driven a nail.

A libertarian libertine, I know.

Without faith or law, lord or master.

I hardly...

dare to mention the small favor

you could do for the Nation.

Go ahead.

I am planning to escape

to organize the revolution.

Only you can help me.

In what way?

By giving in to the gaoler's lust.

I've been told he's madly in love with you.

In short,

you want me to bugger someone

in the name of freedom?

Exactly.

Thus, you would help bring down this regime

we both despise.

Be quiet.

They have been hard to catch this year.

I prefer

feathers to the rump.

I understand your scruples.

I grant you that sodomy is a crime against nature.

However, for such a noble cause...

My one and only noble point may be found

in my bodily appendage,

whom I must consult democratically

for it is sometimes in a capricious mood.

Someone's coming.

The people count on you.

Before breaking out, I will knock on the wall like so.

You'll call Ambert.

It all depends on you.

It all depends

on him.

Death to aristocrats!

- Take that! - Ouch!

Death to tyrants!

- Take that! - Ooh!

- And that! - Ooh! Ouch!

- Long live the Revolution! - Oh!

You have gone too far!

To the Bastille!

Please, Mistress, not the Bastille.

- Yes! - No!

Let's see...

Where shall I lock you up?

- In that tall tower? - La Baziniére?

No, it's for women.

Then, in the one where three candles shine at the window.

The Tour Berthaudiére? It's full up.

Who is there?

Oh no, no, not the barbs!

No! Ouch! No, no, no!

I'll talk.

A thug, a conspirator, and a degenerate.

I will lock you up with the conspirator.

No. Lupino already shares

a cell with Pigonou,

and I don't want to go with Marquis.

He is not normal, he frightens me.

In the middle cell, then.

It's the guard's.

- How many men? - I don't know.

Ah! Ah! Twelve.

I need some exercise.

I have a proposal.

- What? - Ambert!

No! We had agreed not to speak of it anymore.

Things have changed.

It is no longer about improving our comfort

but to do a good deed.

You, doing a good deed?

Wonder of all wonders!

To help escape the one

who is responsible for our misfortune,

to free the one who imprisoned us.

Isn't that greatness of soul?

I accept.

Without any conditions?

With conditions.

Give and take.

I've always wanted to deflower that wall.

What do you see in it?

Look to the left,

slightly downwards.

By God!

Damn, what a lovely crack.

I've seen better ones outside,

but we'll give it a screw!

Certainly not, that slip has sharp edges.

Either we penetrate it or I refuse to approach Ambert!

I give in.

But don't come crying afterwards.

Excuse us, Madam.

It is for the little one.

He can't take it anymore.

See where abstinence leads to!

You spill your precious seed

against the wall like ordinary urine.

You didn't knock!

I have my private life...

Your privates, certainly.

But do not despair.

Our Mother Church understands you.

Even though you have always refused confession,

I bring you good news.

A gift from God...

Go to hell!

Guards!

Even the most miserable of sinners,

whatever his crime,

must be able to participate in divine creation,

by using an appropriate receptacle.

Come, my son.

Use her as you will,

you have my blessing!

Et ego tanquem

Dei minister, vos in matrimonium conjungo.

To the guard!

The prisoner has escaped.

- To the guard! - Do you hear that, Rudi?

Turd-Packer has lost his prisoner.

Where is she, drunkards?

Being ficken by the Marquis, Turd-Packer.

Special order from the Governor.

With the priest's congratulations.

Marquis!

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

What does she have that I don't?

Now that we have a real one,

you're being picky?

Look at her,

isn't she fleshier than the one on the wall?

I'd love to, but my head hurts too much.

A little exercise would help.

No, I don't feel like exercising.

Maybe with a spicy story.

A story?

While we have Madame at hand, all trembling...

Look, she is afraid

and she is right,

because we will have our way with her.

Oh mercy, sir!

I am three months pregnant

and the fruit of my womb is cursed...

In the state I'm in,

without a very spicy story,

I will never manage!

Alright, let's go for a story then!

The twenty-year-old woman, three months pregnant,

is lifted on a pedestal, seven...

No! Eight feet high.

Unable to place both feet,

she balances on one.

A flexible pole is given to her for support.

It is easy to see on one hand

the interest she has in not falling,

on the other, the impossibility of keeping balance.

That alternative entertains the four monks

gathered around her.

They each have a couple of women who excite them

in various ways while they watch the show.

As pregnant as she is,

the unfortunate remains in position

for almost fifteen minutes.

But she finally loses strength,

she falls onto the thorns and the scoundrels,

drunk with lust,

offer on her body

the foul homage of their ferocity.

I am completely shaken!

You too, sir, must have suffered

to so accurately describe the baseness of the human soul.

Yes, it was exciting,

and there were fewer verbs than usual...

Mind your own business!

How many times must I tell you that style

is my business!

I'm feeling better. Take off my bandage.

Little do I know about literature,

but I found your story sublime.

What intuition, what sensitivity!

I am ready.

Let's enter her.

- Hush! - Ouch!

Madam,

your praises touch the heart

of the poor, reader less writer that I am.

If you do not consider her unworthy,

poor Justine would find relief

in listening to your other works.

Don't let yourself be lulled.

Put me inside her.

You are annoying me.

Would you lend me your ribbon, Madam?

With pleasure, Sir.

Help me.

There,

the knot is tight!

He will not bother us anymore.

He is not a bad fellow, but he has obsessions.

May my tomb disappear

from earth

as I hope my memory will fade from the minds of men.

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.

This movement is an endless chain of crimes.

Passion is but a means to fulfill her designs.

To Nature, the life of the most sublime of men

is of no more importance than that of an oyster.

Eros stronger than death.

- Admirable! - Hush!

What was that?

A remarkable piece of French Literature...

No...

It comes from here...

From my pants.

Help! Save me!

I can't breathe!

I'm dying!

My poor Colin, he's dead.

- I killed him... - No, his pulse is still beating.

I can feel it throb in my hand.

If he dies, I'll kill myself!

Quick, he must be bled...

A lancet...

Do it yourself,

I simply can't!

He is now decongested...

We must stop the hemorrhage.

He is saved...

I can feel him coming back to life.

Continue with your care.

By Jove!

Stop this immediately...

Leave him alone!

Out, wench!

One of these days, you'll be sorry

for all you didn't do to me.

I'll never forget those hours spent with you...

I hope your companion recovers quickly.

Out, I said!

I've had enough of your filth!

Murderer!

You tried to get rid of me out of jealousy.

You were afraid she would prefer me!

You've betrayed our friendship!

I just wanted you to be quiet for a moment while I courted her.

I was wrong, and I apologize.

I don't give a damn!

I am disfigured for life.

Now I know that you talk more than you act...

Deep down,

you do not deserve me.

A misunderstanding.

I swear, he did not touch me...

Liar!

Why would the Governor lock you up with him?

Because Marquis asked him to!

Among their class, favors are granted!

You gave him all he asked for, admit it!

No! Have mercy!

We just talked about literature.

You prig!

He buggered you, didn't he?

But you don't dare say so.

I am not good enough for him...

I bet he rammed through every hole...

He really polished his acorn.

I saw you trying to give him a hard-on,

because you wanted more!

No, I was curing him,

I swear!

You cannot understand.

Ah, I don't understand!

But...

You're a man!

You mock me because my breasts sag a bit.

Let go of my teat!

A miracle... Four of them!

Ouch! Not like that!

Your nails are hurting me.

Ouch, ouch!

Now tell me,

how he took you!

He respected me.

He is a gentleman... Ouch!

I love him, I love him!

So do I.

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

Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

I admire your flat and neat country,

which has done so much for the diffusion

of Descartes' works.

Godverdomme!

You sound like a rationalist, My Lord!

Although the King and I are cousins,

we do not eat at the same rack.

Blood ties are weaker than money...

And it's you, the Duke of Orléans, saying that...

Have you heard the news?

Did the King pinch his finger?

No!

Marquis, the degenerate aristocrat, has done it again!

- Did he escape? - Worse than that.

Within the very walls of the Bastille,

he managed to rape a poor prisoner.

There are days when my blue blood makes me ashamed.

Godverdomme!

It's incredible!

Are your jails mixed?

No, men and women are separate,

but nothing deters that monster.

The fake nun from the Rue du Bac,

wasn't that him as well?

Fatal!

And the scandal of the orgies with domestic animals.

I have always refused to defend him...

Let me introduce myself: Jacquot the Fatalist,

barrister of the chicken-coop.

To whom does Jacquot have the honor?

Willem Van Mandarine, novelist,

special envoy of the Netherlands Gazette,

in Paris.

Are you doing a report on the crimes of Marquis?

My work is more general.

The state of the Kingdom in the year 1788.

Prison life interests me as well.

Do you believe it is possible to enter the Bastille

without a lettre de cachet?

You are in luck!

Jacquot fatally knows a friend of the Governor.

Yes, and it is a novelty.

The most deserving prisoner

is invited to share the Christmas lobster.

I hope it becomes a Bastille tradition.

I would like some more.

It feels strange

to have a prisoner next to me.

What did you do?

High treason or clandestine opposition?

Trafficking in charcuterie.

But the exemplary conduct of this swindler

gives us great satisfaction

and it's only right that he be rewarded.

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

Oh, I know.

We are unfairly slandered,

but rumors merely hit the wall of our indifference.

Please, put in your gazette that we are the first

to have instituted health care.

Of which Madame Juliette de Titane is the benefactress...

Her devotion is admired by all.

I am but the humble godmother of the unlucky.

Allow me, Monsieur Pigonou,

to offer you this small gift

I myself embroidered.

Thank you, Madame. It is charming.

However, I have heard of a more difficult case...

Yes, you are referring to Marquis,

our black sheep...

Indeed!

How is the victim?

He raped her, I believe.

Poor Justine.

Her larger lips are swollen, the smaller ones, torn,

her buttocks, scratched, her udder, flattened,

her spider is bruised in several places,

her sirloin is flushed,

the pear is totally open...

A real slaughter!

Enough! You're ruining my appetite...

What a brute!

Four...

Four, just for lunch...

Four? There were four of you?

Give me their names...

Four big lobster tails,

Lieutenant-General.

I'm stuffed.

I'm sweating.

What's this?

Did you steal a napkin?

No,

a little gift from our godmother...

What breasts!

A mouth wide enough to fit a whole salami.

Juliette!

Merry Christmas on the balcony at midnight.

It's tonight!

We must prepare the ladder.

And thus, accused of a crime I did not commit,

my torturers took away my ink and paper.

Freedom or death!

Signed:

Marquis.

And how do you plan to send it, your wooden letter?

Through the window.

The passerby who picks it up,

moved by my misfortunes,

will take it to its Royal Addressee in Versailles.

Unless it lands on his head!

Enough!

I didn't know you were so resentful!

What do you know about me?

You devote no time to me.

What about the stories I tell you, Colin?

Your stories are no longer enough for me.

I need action.

I want to go out, I want to live like before.

So do I.

It doesn't seem so!

I just wrote another letter...

The hundred and first!

Which will remain unanswered like all the others.

You're just a vain utopian,

you're not down-to-earth as I am!

Poor legless cripple! You don't even have feet!

I have yours.

Your whole body belongs to me!

- And what else? - Your five senses!

I rule them too.

Ah, ah, ah!

Who does he think he is, the little one?

Stop calling me “the little one”!

You're not the boss!

I can make you lose your mind.

Without my imagination,

your sensations would be as bland

as one of Jean-Jacques Rousseau's dreams!

I also rule over your imagination.

I'd like to see you try!

Look behind you...

A spider! Filthy thing.

I hadn't seen it.

Look at it more closely.

What are you doing after the show?

You have beautiful legs...

And what bellies!

See, you're starting to like her...

The signal!

You'll have to keep your promise.

What promise?

I didn't promise anything.

Are you backing out?

I can get angry too!

I didn't hit the wall for nothing!

We had agreed to help them escape

and I intend to keep my word.

The others escape and we stay?

Either we'll leave by the front door

or not at all.

Ambert!

Ambert!

Yes...

What's the matter?

I feel a craving for lobsters...

Don't worry, my sweet, I'll bring you a big one!

A real feast!

Ambert, that's not lobster,

it's crayfish!

Lobster or crayfish, you must earn it!

Your smell...

Your smell!

Don't make me wait!

Come, my doggie.

Come...

Come...

Didn't you want to lead your own life?

Now, take responsibility.

Show what you've got.

I can't.

Come, little one...

Come...

Courage!

I couldn't, even with a helmet!

- Are you chickening out? - Yes...

I want to go back into my pants!

Is it coming?

Enough whisperings!

What do we do?

Stick in the lobster!

It's not lobster, it's crayfish!

I don't care! Shove it in!

It won't fit!

Yes, with some mayonnaise!

The boat is here.

The carriage is waiting for us.

Everything is set like clockwork.

Pass your wooden leg first, I'll help you.

Ah, that's good!

I don't regret

waiting so long.

Wait, not too fast.

I want...

I want it to last.

The Bastille prison has the best garrison.

We screw all the maidens, drain all the flagons.

To the guard! To the guard! To the guard! To the guard!

Quick, another potion!

To the guard! To the guard! To the guard! To the guard!

Here I come, Lison.

Come on, one more effort! You're almost there.

Suck in your belly!

I already have!

Use your hands!

Move your arse!

That's what happens when you eat like a pig!

Oh!

I'm pulling through.

We're out!

No, don't play around...

The ladder is gone!

Hang on tight!

Use your teeth, your nails, anything!

I can't... I'm slipping...

To the guard!

Ambert! Help!

To the guard!

Help... Help me!

Help me!

"Christmas at the balcony” has failed. Let's flee.

To the guard!

To the guard! To the guard! To the guard! To the guard!

Quick, another potion!

To the guard! To the guard! To the guard! To the guard!

Here I come, Lison.

- Ambert! Help! - To the guard!

Help!

I'm coming! I'm coming!

Why are you backing away?

Because we have a problem.

So, you're playing runaway girls?

Fleeing like Latude?

To the 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.

Hello, innkeeper!

Open up, I'm thirsty!

We're closed, a kinsman died!

Pretty Citizen, Good Patriot, come join the Sans-Culottes.

To conquer freedom isn't Summer the best Kingdom?

The spring session

of Patriotic Citizens' Club is now open.

The floor is given to Citizen Bernard in,

owner of the Wounded Nightingale Inn.

Well, after listening to my clientele

and having drunk flagons with the Patriotic Citizens

of the Saint-Louis and Cité islands,

I'm convinced

that everyone is ready to rise up and take the Bastille.

Fatal! Jacquot was right!

However, one thing is certain:

They lack experience and coordination!

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 will lead our troops to victory.

I hope "Hot Summer" will be more successful

than "Christmas at the Balcony".

A costly failure, that was!

It will work, it will work.

If Jacquot says so, it will fatally work.

Jacquot also said so last year

about operation “A Free Michaelmas”,

after I greased the guards' palms.

The plan wasn't worth a damn.

How could Jacquot foresee that the guards

would get drunk and forget to open the gate?

It will be a “Hot Summer', Citizens,

I make this solemn oath to you.

I am also running out of tricks.

The Governor constantly asks for more.

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

Listen,

I'll give you until mid-July.

Past this deadline, I will stop financing the Revolution.

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

My lord wanted to help others,

and here I am, chained!

File harder, you'll never make it!

I was wrong. I'm also paying for it.

Liar!

You make do with anything

as long as you're given a pen and paper...

Don't add insult to injury.

If only I could write my thoughts!

It's driving me mad!

There, you are free...

As for me,

I know what I have to do.

See what the Bastille's heathcare sends you.

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

but do not forget he's innocent.

You must love it with the fervor of a Christian mother!

The King? A monster?

Always that idea...

Remember once and for all that you are pregnant

with the works of the Marquis and him alone.

Marquis' works are of a different kind.

Hidden specialties?

I suspected it.

A powerful creator,

with a fertile imagination, who touches only the essential.

And what a language!

Subtle and voluptuous...

This sinner seems especially gifted!

The few pages he read to me moved me deeply.

Torn from some lewd book, of course.

No, he wrote them.

He confesses all the torments of the human soul...

He confesses to you, and not to me?

Ambert!

Is she in lab our?

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

Did you tell him I was the father?

No, he still thinks it's Marquis.

Never mention him again...

Our offspring...

I thought that I'd have no descendants,

that my name would fall into oblivion.

Bring me a lobster!

He's tied

on all fours

like a wild beast, he is covered in a tiger skin.

You'd should dig a tunnel

with your tool.

They proceed to excite him,

to unnerve him, whip him,

beat him, bugger him.

They proceed to excite him, to unnerve him,

whip him, beat him,

bugger him.

Across from him, Stands a naked and fleshy maiden,

tied by the feet to the floor and by the neck to the ceiling,

in such a way that she cannot move.

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

and attacks the maiden as a wild beast would,

biting her flesh,

especially her clitoris and nipples,

tearing them off between his teeth.

He screams and howls like a beast

while sticking into the girl's arse

a small dildo that discharges through a spring.

A spring-loaded dildo?

I've never heard that before!

No, Sir...

A small dildo that discharges through a spring.

Godverdomme! Magnificent!

A spring-loaded dildo...

What an imagination!

Did you write this?

You must be a foreigner.

But I seem to recall your accent.

Allow me:

Willem Van Mandarine,

special envoy of the Netherlands Gazette,

D-P., incognito priest visiting his parish.

Pleased to meet you.

The hump on your back also reminds me of someone

I met not long ago.

Nevertheless, you are a great writer.

I want to publish your work.

This is too great an honor

for a poor amateur.

No, no! It will sell like hot cakes.

But who...

Who would be interested in reading

the lucubrations of a chimerical fornicator?

The public!

I'm willing to sign a contract

and give you an advance.

Not here.

Let's adjourn next door.

What? Only 5% on the price?

It's a standard contract.

Diderot signed it

and he didn't make a fuss about it!

300 pages within the next month...

It will be difficult...

I want to publish the book before the summer of '89.

Yes. Well, I'll manage.

There is, however, a delicate matter...

4,000 Guilders as an advance.

You won't get a penny more from me.

That's not it...

Due to my position,

me being a priest, I cannot go about it openly.

I will have to use a pseudonym.

I understand.

Take the name of a colleague:

Mirabeau, La Bretonne

or even Voltaire.

No, no, no, no, no...

No... Something less compromising.

Sade.

Sade?

Yes. S-A-D-E,

Sender's Address Discreetly Excluded.

Mmmmm!

The quills glide effortlessly

on this marvelous Dutch vellum.

But this is your place. I am keeping you from working.

Sit down, sir.

To whom do I owe these favors?

To a highly placed person

who wishes you well...

The scoundrels!

My manuscripts!

They stole them!

And my crack!

Ambert! Ambert!

Ambert!

So, where are those manuscripts?

I asked for all his papers

and you only brought me back his shirt!

I probably used them as toilet paper.

Illiterate wretch!

To throw unpublished works in the cesspool!

Your head must be empty

I thought I was doing the right thing...

I cleaned his cell while he was being punished.

What are sheets good for, when they are full of words?

Every night you shall bring me whatever he has written!

The slightest line.

Do not throw anything away again!

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

Rise, poet,

and take the quill knife.

What for?

Hitting Low with Two Dying Nuns,

Gonorrhea in Gomorrah,

The Misfortunes of Bishop Bang,

all my masterpieces are gone!

Never will I write again, not another word!

At last!

Do as I tell you, take the knife.

Loosen the stones and dig a tunnel!

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

You didn't mind hurting them to write.

I warn you, I can't take it anymore.

I'm rusting away!

Don't forget than my life expectancy is shorter than yours.

So be it!

I shall dig after my nap!

Here they are,

fresh from this morning!

I picked them up myself in the meadows of Saint-Mandé.

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

Yes, my dear,

just what you wanted!

Picked up right at the burrow.

They seem quite moist...

The best ones, still wet from the dew...

- Taste one! - Oh no, not me!

I don't have the cravings of a pregnant female.

I won't eat any then!

Too bad if the child dies of hunger!

It will be your fault!

Alright...

For my son's sake!

There!

What does it taste like?

A hint of droppings, but not bad.

I don't believe you.

I'm continuing my hunger strike!

I swear he no longer writes, not a line,

not a word!

Only Marquis' literature

can restore my appetite and zest for life!

Colin...

Colin!

Colin!

I must have bitten myself while dreaming.

I was in a wood...

You were escaping without me?

Double crosser!

No, you had disappeared.

What a nightmare!

I know you are lying.

A deadline is a deadline!

I've already given you one respite, you are pushing!

Inspiration cannot be forced!

Yes! There is a way to force it!

Yet all my prayers have remained unanswered.

You should screw a bit more, abbé...

When imagination fails,

nothing beats a muse

with breasts as large as her arse.

Amuse with nice breasts...

Ah! Ah! Ah!

I know what I have to do...

Ouch! Ouch!

It stings.

There, it's done.

I'll dress the wound.

Now's the time.

Screw her.

What? Did you say something?

No. Stomach gurgles.

Your silhouette moves me.

How could this body inspire anything but pity?

Yet,

if you gazed into my eyes...

I see reflected tender feelings that I do not deserve.

But you do, Justine.

Listen to my heart...

My God, you make me lose my head.

One kiss was enough

to cure me.

You'll soon be able to write again!

Not a line, not a word.

My decision is final!

So there will be no sequel

to The Misfortunes of Bishop Bang?

How on earth

do you know the name of my latest child?

It was taken from me when the word "End" wasn't even dry!

It is here, as well as Gonorrhea in Gomorrah

and Scuffle for Two Dying Nuns,

my favorite!

Am I dreaming?

How did my complete works end up at your place

in pieces?

Thanks to Ambert's abject love

for the unfortunate Justine.

Then he is the father?

No.

When he raped me,

I was already carrying life's breath.

The true father is...

Silence, harlot!

While I sucked one,

and I shook and sullied the other...

A young mother reading such filth!

Withheld!

Ha ha ha ha!

I have more than 300 pages!

Give them back!

Thief!

You, the author, to the dungeon!

With the madmen!

Ha ha ha ha!

Well, La Rose, said Saint Florent,

Stitch this wench.

They fix my four limbs to the ground as far apart as possible.

The executioner who is about to stitch me up

takes a long needle and a waxed thread.

Ignoring the gushing blood,

and the pain he is about to cause me,

watched by the two laughing men,

the monster neatly sews up

the gateway to the Temple of Love.

How decadent!

When the people learn to read,

Jacquot says, we will be ashamed of having taught them!

Sade...

Who could possibly be hiding under this pseudonym?

The poet Andre Chenier'?

Or perhaps... But I doubt it,

Fabre d'Eglantine?

Only a nobleman could write such horrors...

A well-placed nobleman...

Fatal!

Versailles has fun and ignores the people!

Jacquot is scandalized!

They enjoy watching their own downfall.

Jacquot says the time is near...

We will impose a new moral order...

To a wider patronage!

What does it look like?

Like a male.

My son!

We must get rid of it!

Wait, I'll baptize him...

Ego te baptizo, Dalmatien,

in no mine Patris,

et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.

Show me my child...

The Iron Mask!

Here Ambert, feed it to the lobsters.

To the lobsters? My son!

What are you talking about?

It's the vile Marquis' offspring.

No!

Now I can tell you,

Marquis never touched her...

It's my good seed that impregnated her.

You're raving gaoler!

Tell them, my love,

that I was the one who raped you...

That I am his true Daddy!

You? Not the way you took me, wretch.

In truth, it is the son of...

Enough.

Make it disappear, it'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 compensate it in heaven...

By Jove! It sounds just like Sade!

Per istam sanctam Unctionem...

Yes, page 288...

indulge at tibi Dominus quidquid deliquisti. Amen.

Then, the mysterious Sade, is...

Yes, Marquis.

Hush! Speak of this to no one!

It would be useless and dangerous for you

if it were known...

The Liaisons Dangereuses bore me.

I...

I'd like to be an indiscreet jewel.

Ha ha ha!

You are one play behind.

Standing before you is Dolmancé,

the most corrupt and dangerous man.

In that case, kiss me,

I am Madame de Saint-Ange.

What ears, what a neck!

Not like that.

It looks like you want to slit his throat.

You're tickling me.

Bless you, Sister Teresa!

Lupino, you're dreadful.

What a mess!

Even at the Charenton Asylum,

they would only give you small roles.

Colin, show him how to deliver his line.

I am not here.

What do you mean you are not here?

I can see you.

Don't ask me anything anymore!

I no longer trust you.

Who is he talking to?

He thinks his pants are full of comedians.

His child Dalmatien on his chest

Poor Ambert makes an advancement

He's climbing to the top of the crest

To show the sea to his infant

They'd like me to put you to rest.

But I am not that malignant

Let the Bastille come to rest

Better to flee in an instant

There are other jails in England

There, we'll earn our bread and dime

Since you are your father's strand

You'll become a gaoler in time.

57, the seal of infamy.

The best is yet to come.

58...

She sticks

fire-crackers up his arse whose sparks

scorch his buttocks as they fall...

It's tempting...

No!

We can do better.

The house specialty!

What house?

Yours!

What?

The torture chamber of the Bastille?

Oh,

I dreamed about it,

but I wanted you to take the initiative!

Let us go.

Executioner, do your duty...

Oh yes!

Where are you going to stick those big keys?

Nowhere!

The play is over.

I am going to 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!

Hush! The play has started.

We must Carry on, Citizen Juliette.

The door is open.

Let us flee!

No, I want to fuck her,

here, right now, on the straw.

Enough!

I say screw, you Say leave, I say leave, you say screw.

Does my mind rule you

or do you rule it?

A thorny question.

The answer is inside her body,

and I am quite willing to, to try and find it.

Instead of talking to yourself, help me.

What shall we do, sir?

Stop the rehearsal?

A carriage is waiting outside.

We will be safe at the Wounded Nightingale Inn.

Gentlemen,

the world awaits our talent.

Nowhere will we be as comfortable.

Your cue or I'll cut them off.

Open!

Open the gates!

Governor's orders!

I am not going a step further.

Let's return to the convent, Sister Anne.

Citizen Lupino, what are you doing?

Come back, Madam.

Deprivation has driven them mad.

To the guard! Shoot!

Shoot, God damn it!

They're escaping.

Shoot!

Fire!

Fire at will!

Goodbye, boss!

Untie me, moron! Faster!

The chickens have broken the egg carrying the people's hope.

To the carriage, quick!

Juliette, Juliette,

why did you leave me?

Faster!

Jacquot cannot hold the horses.

To the guard!

They're fleeing.

Shoot! Shoot, damn it!

Not at me,

idiots!

He died because of me!

No.

True fault is known by the pleasure it gives.

Precisely,

I did feel pleasure...

Any man can be replaced.

Lupinos abound.

But Préaubois are few.

I have lost my slave and my master.

I'd willingly be both.

Introduce me, Marquis.

Marquis!

It is you!

For God's sake, I know your reputation.

Spare me!

Oh!

You have arrived.

Jacquot's goose is cooked.

A fatality.

Speak faster,

the list of your sins must be long!

It hurts...

Oh oh oh, I like it...

Oh, I am coming...

She's coming.

Ouch!

She pinches my heart!

I am coming!

Cock-a-doodle-doo...

Straight to hell.

Death hates being taken for a whore.

What is Jacquot the Fatalist doing on this table?

Dead.

A martyr!

He will be entitled to a national funeral.

- Where is Lupino? - Dead.

Two martyrs!

The citizens have taken the Bastille

and you cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs.

And Juliette? Is she dead too?

No, in her room.

I'll call her. Come in, tell us everything.

No time!

Bernard in awaits me at Versailles.

The riot has spread to the entire capital.

It will be a hot summer!

Tell Juliette she has a seat at the Assembly.

Farewell!

And once again, congratulations!

Juliette!

Juliette!

Good news...

The Bastille has been taken!

It's chaos everywhere!

Goddamn it.

Too late.

Be strong, Colin.

Look.

I'll take care of it.

Do you not understand?

She is dead.

What is death?

A crime committed by nature to screw you!

I don't care!

I want to kiss her.

Oh, an angel!

“Love stronger than death”,

said Justine.

Virtuous Justine!

Are you really leaving me?

Juliette needs me to help fuel her revolutionary spirit.

You can come with us...

If you want to.

No, you really don't need me...

I'd be in the way...

She'd probably end up

by loving you.

Now, it is your story,

it is no longer ours.

You are free.

It will be hard

after all we went through together.

I knew you would leave one day,

but I didn't expect that day to come so soon.

Be strong.

And you, be careful.

I know that Juliette is no different from others,

but what can you do?

I am in love.

I know that feeling,

I went through that before you.

Now,

go away.

Remember...

Polish your style...

Not too many verbs!

My downfall was not caused by my way of thinking

but that of others.

July 15, 1789.