The Marquis de Sade
The definitive biography by Neil Schaeffer
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Prison Letters : Archive : October 4, 1779
|The following letter to La Jeunesse, Sade's valet and copyist,
here also nicknamed Martin Quiros, displays Sade's extravagant and giddily
humorous style. -NS
Sade to La Jeunesse.
October 4, 1779
Martin Quiros . . . you are becoming insolent, m'boy. If I were there, I
would give you a good thrashing. I would snatch off your f[ucking] fake poof
of hair, which you annually refurbish with the nether hairs that fall from
the nags you hire on the road from Courthézon to Paris . . . and then,
the next morning, with a dab of powerful glue you'd attach them to your old
scabby head in such a way that it wouldn't be any more noticeable than a
crab-louse on a w[hore]'s "honey-pot." Isn't that a fact, m'boy? Do try .
. . try and keep your trap shut, I beg of you, because I am weary of being
insulted for so long by the rabble. It is true that I act like a bulldog,
and when I see all that pack of curs and bitches yelping around me, I just
lift a leg and I piss on their noses. . . . You recall my song, "Fortunately
I don't give a s[hit]." Well, I sing it here six times a day, and I whistle
Why you old monkey-fucker! Weed-face bedaubed with berry juice. You old prop-pole
from Noah's vineyard, fish bone from the back of Jonah's whale. You filthy
old flint matchstick, old rancid candle at 24 the pound, stinking harness
off my wife's mule. . . . Ah! you old pumpkin, pickled in bug-juice, third
horn on the Devil's brow, face of a codfish with oysters for ears, you old
worn-out shoe off a bawd, you reeking piece of Milli Printemps' bloody linen.
If I get my hands on you, how I would rub your face in it, your filthy ugly
puss of a baked apple as brown as burnt chestnuts. Just to teach you to not
to lie like that. . . .
So you tell me just like that, m'boy Martin, that I do not write according
to your taste. Listen, for a second, to my thoughts on this matter. I write
only for my wife, who very easily reads my writing, however bad it may be.
But those who, without any authority, and without any right, try to stick
their nose into my letters which so little please you, if they are not satisfied
with them, they can go stick them up their ass. Do you now want some special
instruction about that? Very well, m'boy, here you have it: the male and
the female who take that authority and that right upon themselves, far from
being offended at the place where I tell them to shove them, would reply
if they would candidly confess their taste, what the regent said to the woman
who complained to him that Cardinal Dubois sent her where I send them: Madame,
the cardinal is coarse. But he is sometimes a good counsellor. Adieu Quiros.
Regards to Gautruche when you see him. Tell him that I am truly delighted
with his resurrection, and above all I beg you to remember me to Milli
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